Welcome to the paranormal deep dive from Real Ghost Stories Online and the Grave Talks.

You ever walk into a place and feel like it remembers you? Even if you've never been there before?

Tucked into the heart of Tulsa, Oklahoma, sits an old dance hall that's heard every footstep, every fiddle string, and every secret whispered

behind velvet curtains.

Kane's ballroom, built in the 1920s, it pulsed with the sounds of Western swing and the

energy of a nation cutting loose during hard times.

But long after the music ends and the crowds are gone, something still lingers.

People talk about cold pockets of air that chill you to the bone,

doors that lock without a key, and music that plays when no one's on the stage.

Staff hear the click of boots on the wooden floor and the faint hum of a steel guitar tuning up after midnight when the venue is

locked tight. Could it be the spirit of Bob Wills himself still watching over his kingdom of swing?

Or is it just the echo of memory, bouncing around the rafters of a building steeped in nearly

a century of emotion and sound.

I'm Tony Bruske. Let's dig in.

Kane's ballroom didn't start as a temple to music. It began as a garage.

In 1924, the structure at 423 North Main Street in Tulsa was built to house cars, not culture.

But the Great Depression reshaped many things, and by 1930, Madison W. Daddy Kane had transformed the space into a dance academy.

With its signature maple dance floor and barrel-vaulted ceiling, Keynes quickly became more than just a venue.

It became a heartbeat for a city.

Tulsa was booming.

Oil money flowed, and people needed somewhere to cut loose

to forget the grind and to fall in love,

...