Charles Creel was a man with a vision. C. C. Coleman was a man with a thirst. Their interests were destined to collide. Perhaps their conflict is why the town is haunted.
The Chicago, Kansas, and Nebraska Railroad was headed west from Kit Carson and Charles Creel planned to be there when it arrived. In August 1888 the railroad pulled in and gave the new town a new name – Arriba.
Creel built a house, laid out a town, and started selling lots.
When C.C. Coleman arrived in 1904, he liked the place, too. But he also wanted to have a drink.
Creel wouldn’t allow a saloon in Arriba.
So, Coleman made his own town right next door. He laid out Frontier City just up the block. The two towns sat uneasily side by side. Their roads go straight from one town through the other, but most roads take on a different name at the border.
The two towns were separated by a half a block called No Mans Land.
Frontier City had a saloon. Many citizens of Arriba patronized it. Charles Creel wasn’t happy. First, he erected a barbed wire fence between the two towns. But some malevolent spirits or at least some seeking spirits cut the wire and took down the fence. Creel had a ditch dug, but still some people from Arriba found their way to the Frontier City saloon.
The two towns were uneasy neighbors until Creel died. In 1918 Arriba voted to absorb Frontier City, saloon and all. But, the ghosts of Frontier City still haunt the area.
Coleman’s saloon in Frontier City is long gone. Now Myrt’s Place sells coffee and food near the old No Man’s Land. A couple of blocks west at 711 Front Street is the fascinating Arriba Museum. It contains memorabilia from the area (including both Arriba and Frontier City).
Arriba had a school, built in about 1925. The district consolidated with Flagler in 1982 and the school closed. Once there were shouts from the children at the playground. Now the only screams at the school come at night.
At the end of October, the old Arriba schoolhouse comes alive. The spirits that possess the building come out. The Mindbender Haunted House fills the old schoolhouse at 915 College Street in the far northwest corner of Arriba. Perhaps the venue is chosen to keep the screams of visitors from scaring the town residents.
But the screams don’t scare the ghosts of Frontier City. On moonless nights you can sometimes hear them keening.
“Ooooh, Ma’s going to kill me. I just tore my pants on the blamed barbed wire.”