The Navarre Building

The Navarre Building opened in 1880, during Denver's transformation from a rough mining camp to a prosperous city. Built in the Italianate style with ornate brickwork and elegant details, it initially operated as a respectable school for young women. But the building's proximity to the Brown Palace Hotel and Denver's red-light district would soon lead it down a very different path.

By the 1890s, the Navarre had transformed from a girls' school into something far more profitable and scandalous. The building became a high-class brothel, gambling hall, and saloon, catering to Denver's wealthy elite who wanted to indulge their vices in relative privacy.

What made the Navarre unique was its clientele and its connection to the Brown Palace Hotel. While Denver had many brothels and gambling halls, the Navarre positioned itself as a establishment for gentlemen of means. The women who worked there were considered among the most beautiful and cultured in the West. The gambling rooms featured high-stakes poker and faro. The restaurant served fine food and imported liquor.

But the Navarre's most infamous feature was the underground tunnel that connected it directly to the Brown Palace Hotel. This tunnel allowed wealthy businessmen, politicians, and visiting dignitaries staying at the respectable Brown Palace to discreetly visit the Navarre without being seen on the street. A man could leave his hotel room, descend to the basement, walk through the tunnel, and emerge in the Navarre ready to gamble, drink, and enjoy female companionship - all without his reputation being compromised by being spotted entering a known house of ill repute.

The Navarre's heyday lasted from the 1890s through the 1910s, an era when Denver was booming with silver and gold money. The city's newly rich mine owners, railroad barons, and cattle kings had money to burn and appetites for entertainment that respectable society couldn't satisfy.

The Navarre obliged. The gambling rooms on the upper floors ran around the clock, with fortunes changing hands over poker, faro, and roulette. Stories circulated of men winning - or losing - entire mining operations on a single hand of cards. The bar served the finest whiskey money could buy. And the women of the Navarre, dressed in expensive gowns and jewels purchased by their patrons, were considered the most sophisticated working girls in the West.

But beneath the glamour was a darker reality. The women who worked at the Navarre were essentially trapped in debt bondage, owing money to the house for their room, board, and clothing that they could never fully repay. Some had been trafficked from the East or from Europe with promises of legitimate work, only to find themselves forced into prostitution with no way out.

The gambling, too, had its dark side. While some men won fortunes, many more lost everything. Stories spread of ruined businessmen, of families destroyed by gambling addiction, of men who walked into the Navarre wealthy and walked out with nothing but debt. And some, unable to face what they'd lost, never walked out at all.

The Navarre's history is marked by violence and tragedy. Several women who worked there died under suspicious circumstances - some from drug overdoses, others from "accidents" that may have been murders or suicides. At least one woman fell - or was pushed - from an upper-story window.

But the most persistent legend concerns a gambler who shot himself in one of the Navarre's rooms after losing everything he owned in a poker game. Different versions of the story give different details - some say he was a cattle baron who lost his ranch, others that he was a mine owner who gambled away his claim. What remains consistent is that he lost it all in a single night, and rather than face ruin and shame, he put a pistol to his head and pulled the trigger.

The Navarre's owners, not wanting the scandal of a suicide on the premises, allegedly had the body removed through the tunnel and dumped in an alley blocks away, making it look like a random street crime. But the man's spirit, some say, remained in the building, forever reliving his final night of gambling and his final desperate act.

The Navarre's operation as a brothel and gambling hall came to an end in the 1920s and 1930s as reform movements swept Denver and law enforcement cracked down on vice. The building went through various incarnations - a restaurant, a museum, office space - but never quite escaped its reputation.

The secret tunnel to the Brown Palace remained, though officially sealed. Various businesses operated in the Navarre over the decades, but many struggled to stay open, plagued by strange occurrences that frightened employees and customers. Some business owners reported an oppressive atmosphere in certain rooms, as if the building itself retained the psychic residue of decades of vice, violence, and tragedy.

Today, the Navarre has been restored and houses restaurants and event spaces. The building's notorious past has been largely sanitized for tourism, with the brothel history presented as colorful local lore. But those who work in the building late at night know that the Navarre's past isn't quite past - it's still very much present, in the form of spirits who never left.

The Navarre Building is considered one of the most haunted locations in Denver, with paranormal activity reported consistently over many decades by multiple business owners, employees, and visitors. The phenomena seem connected to the building's past as a brothel and gambling hall, with distinct spirits that appear to be former workers and patrons still going about their eternal business.

The most frequently reported spirit is that of a well-dressed man in late 19th-century clothing - typically described as wearing a dark suit, vest, and hat. He's most often seen in the upper floors where the gambling rooms once operated, and his appearances are marked by several distinctive characteristics:

• He appears in mirrors and reflective surfaces, but when witnesses turn around, no one is there
• His face is described as anguished or desperate, with an expression of profound despair
• He's often seen making frantic gestures, as if pleading or arguing
• Shortly before or after his appearances, witnesses report hearing the sound of a gunshot
• Objects in the rooms where he appears are sometimes found moved or disturbed

Many believe this is the spirit of the gambler who shot himself after losing everything. He seems to be perpetually reliving his final night, perhaps still trying to win back what he lost, or perhaps trying to undo his final desperate act. Some witnesses report feeling overwhelmed with despair and hopelessness when encountering this spirit, as if his emotions are so powerful they affect the living.

One restaurant manager reported seeing the man appear in a mirror during closing one night. The figure was gesturing frantically and appeared to be shouting, though no sound could be heard. When the manager turned around, the room was empty. Moments later, a sound like a gunshot echoed through the building - despite no gun being present and all doors being locked.

Multiple female spirits haunt the Navarre, believed to be the ghosts of women who worked as prostitutes in the building during its brothel days. These spirits manifest in various ways:

• The sound of women's laughter, conversation, and singing in empty rooms
• The overwhelming scent of period perfume or lavender with no source
• The appearance of women in elaborate Victorian-era dresses and jewelry
• The sound of footsteps in high-heeled shoes on upper floors
• Doors to former bedrooms opening and closing on their own
• The sensation of being watched, particularly by male visitors

Employees report that these spirits seem most active late at night, particularly on Friday and Saturday nights - historically the busiest times for the brothel's business. The women's spirits are generally described as benign or even playful, though their presence can be unsettling.

One particularly poignant manifestation involves a young woman in a blue dress who appears in what was once a bedroom on the second floor. She's described as beautiful but sad, often seen standing at the window looking out toward the street, as if waiting for someone who never comes. Some paranormal researchers believe she may be the spirit of a woman who died in the building, possibly the one who fell or was pushed from a window.

Several female employees have reported feeling a presence in the restrooms - a sensation of another woman standing nearby, sometimes accompanied by the sound of crying. Some witnesses interpret this as the spirit of a woman who died in the building, perhaps from a botched abortion or from violence at the hands of a patron.

The basement area where the tunnel to the Brown Palace once began is a hotspot for paranormal activity. Although the tunnel has been officially sealed, this area remains one of the most active locations in the building:

• The sound of footsteps in the tunnel, as if people are still using it
• Shadow figures moving through the basement
• The sensation of being followed or watched
• Sudden temperature drops
• Unexplained voices and whispers
• The feeling of hands touching or pushing people in the dark

Employees avoid going into the basement alone, particularly at night. Multiple people have reported feeling an overwhelming sense of dread in the tunnel area, as if the space retains the psychic imprint of all the secret, shameful transactions that took place there.

One maintenance worker reported hearing distinct footsteps approaching from the sealed tunnel entrance, followed by the sound of a door that no longer exists being opened and closed. Security cameras in the basement have captured unexplained shadows and orbs, and on one occasion, what appeared to be a fully formed apparition of a man in old-fashioned clothing walking through the space before vanishing.

The upper floors, where the high-stakes gambling once took place, are haunted by the residual energy of decades of intense emotions - greed, desperation, elation, and despair. Staff and visitors report:

• The sound of poker chips clinking and cards being shuffled
• Voices raised in anger or celebration
• The smell of cigar smoke, despite smoking being prohibited
• Playing cards appearing in locked rooms
• Coins and chips from the 1890s-1910s found in impossible locations
• Furniture arranged as if a poker game is about to begin

These phenomena are considered "residual hauntings" - psychic recordings of events that played out so many times with such intense emotion that they've been permanently imprinted on the building. But some manifestations suggest intelligent hauntings as well, with spirits actively moving objects or interacting with the living.

Several visitors and employees have reported seeing a poker game in progress when entering certain rooms - seeing men seated around a table with cards and chips - only to have the entire scene vanish when they blink or look away. It's as if the building occasionally allows witnesses to see through time to when the gambling halls were in full operation.

Beyond apparitions and sounds, the Navarre experiences significant poltergeist-type activity:

• Glasses and bottles flying off shelves in the bar area
• Chairs and tables found rearranged overnight in locked rooms
• Doors locking and unlocking on their own
• Lights turning on and off without explanation
• Pictures and decorations falling from walls
• Electronics malfunctioning, particularly in the former gambling areas

Some researchers believe this activity represents the building's most violent spirits - perhaps men who died in fights over gambling debts, or women who were murdered. The poltergeist activity seems to intensify during renovations or when changes are made to the building, as if the spirits resent alterations to their domain.

During one renovation project, workers reported tools disappearing and reappearing in different locations, boards being thrown across rooms, and an overwhelming feeling of hostility that caused several contractors to quit the job. The activity only subsided after the building's owner brought in a local spiritual advisor to perform a blessing ceremony.