Updates
- Liz
- Aug 4
- 2 min read
On July 17, 1981, 114 accidental deaths and 200 injuries occurred at the Hyatt Regency Hotel in Kansas City, Missouri. This story is inspired by that event.
“They looked the same as they always do: happy, tipsy.” Billie said.
“Did you try talking to them?” Mary Anne asked.
“No,” Billie sighed. They’d had this conversation before. “I think it’s better to just play along at this point.”
“Alright. Well, thanks for the update, and thanks again for taking my turn this year. Things have been so hectic here lately — I don’t know how I would’ve managed a trip to KC.”
“No problem, sis. I better let you go so I can update James. Tell the kids Aunt Billie loves them.”
“Will do. Love you.”
“Love you too.”
Two years after their parents died, Billie and Mary Anne started taking turns attending the hotel’s annual haunting. No one was expecting it that first year. Post-collapse, the hotel was completely torn down and rebuilt. Some of the more superstitious families saged the place. Some of the more religious families had their faith leaders pray over it. All the dead had been laid to rest. Still, on the anniversary of the tragedy, the ballroom filled with spectral dancers and big band jazz; and it kept happening every year.
All three siblings witnessed the first haunting — having been invited to a gala honoring their parents and the other victims of the collapse — and none of them had any luck making conversation with the ghosts of their mother and father. James said it was like losing them all over again. He started farming in Missouri’s Bootheel less than a year later, moving as far away from Kansas City as possible without leaving Missouri entirely.
“Howdy, bro bro. How’s farm life?”
“Howdy, howdy. Oh, I think about cotton and corn more than any human ought to, but it’s looking like a good harvest this year. I added soybeans and rice to the mix too.”
“Well, look at you, Mr. Green Thumb.”
“It’s not just me,” James laughed. “I’ve got staff, you know.”
“I know, I know. I’m just proud of you.”
“Thanks, sis.”
“Want an update about mom and dad?”
James sighed. “Is there any update to give?”
“Not really. But I thought you might like to know they still look just as happy and tipsy as ever.”
“Mary Anne is convinced they’ll acknowledge us one of these days.”
“I know, I wish she would let go of that.”
“That’s Mary Anne.”
“Yeah, that’s our Mary Anne.”
“Well, Billie, I appreciate the updates, but if you ever decide it’s all too much for you, you’re always welcome to come stay with me. I think you’d like living down here.”
“Thank you, James. Love you.”
“Love you too. I’ll see you at Thanksgiving?”
“Sure thing. See you then.”
“Alright, bye now.”
“Bye bye.”
Billie tossed her phone in her purse, turned off her car’s engine, and grabbed the flowers from her backseat. Every July, even in the years when Mary Anne attended the haunting, Billie drove to her parents' graves the morning after their death day to sit in front of their headstones, sip coffee, and leave fresh flowers.
“Hi mom and dad. Want an update?”
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