I suppose if I were a ghost, I certainly wouldn’t mind spending eternity here, said Leslie Araiza about the Grande Colonial Hotel, located at 910 Prospect St. “There’s nothing that speaks more highly of a hotel than a repeat guest.” The Grande is known for its repeat guests, said the hotel spokeswoman — living, breathing and otherwise. Throughout the hotel’s almost 100-year existence, employees have been compiling not only a log its lively history, but tales of its ghostly hauntings as well. It’s a list that runs the gamut, from run-of-the-mill accounts of doors slamming during the night to the more bone-chilling reports of children and couples from decades past seen roaming the halls. “I don’t think the majority of the stories we have collected over the years could be crafted by even the most creative mind. I also think that if ghosts do indeed exist, then a hotel that has nearly 100 years of history would be a likely location for them to reside,” Araiza said. The Grande Colonial’s history dates back to 1913, when it was known as The Colonial Apartments and Hotel. By the 1920s, it had become such a solid enterprise in La Jolla that it was revitalized and redesigned under the direction of George Bane. The project was completed in 1928 and apartments were relocated to the back of the hotel, while the new Grande Colonial structure was erected front and center. Over the years following its debut, The Grande became the hip hangout for Hollywood’s biggest names, such as Groucho Marx, Charlton Heston and Gregory Peck, to name a few. When World War II broke out, The Grande took on a new war-time role by becoming a welcoming home to many of the high-ranking officers from nearby Camp Callan, Araiza said. “Our Sun Meeting Room was used as a barracks room during that time,” she said. It is there where many ghostly sightings have occurred over the years. One employee of the hotel was recently in the Sun Room and heard heavy footsteps thundering down the stairs in the North Annex, Araiza said. As she raced to the swinging door partition between the Sun Room and guest rooms to catch the culprit, the door swung open but no one came through. The hallway and staircase were empty. The remodeling of the hotel also appears to unsettle the spirits, The Grande Colonial’s “ghost log” conveys. One such incident happened during a recent remodel of the Sun Room. While two employees were talking in the kitchen, they observed a frying pan that was securely stacked on a rack lift up and set down on the counter. Despite frequent reports from staff and guests, Ariaza said The Grande has no problem attracting visitors — even if some other-worldly repeat guests refuse to leave. Tales from The Grande Colonial ‘ghost log’ • In 2005, a guest was staying in room 508 and having difficulty sleeping. She awoke precisely at 3 a.m. and noticed a presence in the room. She described it as a “heavy feeling” — a “curiosity,” as if she were being watched. She saw a soft glow in the room even though the lights were out and shades were drawn. She saw an image of a young woman with brown hair wearing a light lace dress. Since the incident, she had the name “Abigail” in her head. She also thinks she may have heard the name “Trent.” • Guests in the North Annex of the hotel sometimes complain of noises such as loud voices, doors slamming and heavy footsteps in the wee hours of the night coming from guests in the rooms below them. But there are no guests in those rooms — Below is the bakery, which once was two apartments. Two men supposedly lived in one apartment and two women in the other. They often got together and had parties. The Colonial staff investigates every complaint and the outcome is always the same: The bakery is empty and locked tight for the night. • A tall gentleman in a tuxedo, top hat, white scarf and cane was seen roaming the halls of the 1928 building late one evening accompanied by a lady in a cream-colored evening gown. The clerk who saw them was concerned, as he did not recognize them. He rushed after them, but as he rounded the corner he discovered no one was there.