I probably have Mesothelioma now. Or consumption.

This past week my employers asked me to move old furniture from the disused 7th floor of the century-old hotel we work for to a 1st floor storage room in the hopes of selling it off. I needed the hours and don't mind mindless physical labor, so I took the job.

Also, anytime I get sanctioned to go up there, I'm happy. It's a wonderful old space. Originally, it was the hotel's Grand Ballroom, a doughnut-shaped room wrapping around the center atrium, the only place in the building (at the time) with hardwood floors instead of marble or carpeting. It's been used for random storage since the 80's when WMNI, a country radio station that broadcast from the 7th floor at that time, moved out. People like to talk about the 7th being haunted, specifically by a former station employee who was murdered in his 6th floor suite. I'll let his coworker Rick Minerd tell you about that, or come to Columbus during the fall and take the Landmark Foundation's Haunted Historic Tavern Tour.

Anyway, being up there I took the opportunity to take some pictures.

I've always assumed this space was the DJ booth, though I've got no proof to that end. There's this lovely mural on the wall, to which someone's added their own sun. I have no idea what that small town in the mural is supposed to be, but given the geography it's not within 100 miles of Columbus.

The view opposite the mural isn't too bad, either, even on a rainy day.

I've been wondering where the Gideon's Bibles had disappeared to.

This short hallway is blocked off, but leaning in I got this picture, that ought to be a window on the right, and if it goes anywhere it circles around the service elevator.

Found a couple of funeral cards in an old doorman's jacket.

A little taste of the old wallpaper, which someone's shot with paint balls.

I don't know what we're keeping on the roof now, but it seems to be an inhuman monster that we don't want to get into the building.

I don't know what we're keeping on the roof now, but it seems to be an inhuman monster that we don't want to get into the building.

My favorite thing, that is the only thing about the 7th floor that comes close to creeping me out is the disparity of the pristine marble, oak, and brass guest elevator as it opens into the decrepit area. Well that and the fact that someone's written "SOS" beside both the elevators.