Candle Face Chronicles: A Witness Speaks About Candle Face

October 31, 2023

Main Subjects: Candle Face

• Mr. Doe
• The Empty Lot Next Door

I sat down with an 82-year-old man with firsthand knowledge of the tragic fire on Ben Howell Drive in Austin, Texas. For his safety and privacy, he asked to be identified only as Mr. John Doe.

The following pages contain the transcript of our interview. We had only ten minutes to cover events that stretched back decades, so every question had to count. In that short time, Mr. Doe gave me new information about the fire and described his own encounter with the ghost I’ve come to call Candle Face.

Interview date: October 30, 2023

Location: Austin, Texas

Arthur: Mr. Doe, did you live near Ben Howell Drive in the 1960s or 1970s?

John Doe: Yes. My family lived close to Ben Howell Drive. We were there from around the mid-1960s into the mid-1980s. We left after the kids were grown and married.

Arthur: A bad fire hit Ben Howell Drive in the late 1960s. Do you remember it?

John Doe: I do. The father was cleaning a carburetor in the kitchen with gasoline. One of the boys knocked over the gas can while the mother was cooking. Gas spilled, the fumes caught, and the whole place went up fast. Several children were in the house. Most of them got out, but they were badly burned. The father couldn’t find his youngest son, who was about two years old. He thought the boy had run back inside. His wife and his mother went in too, but the fire pushed them back out. The father tried to go in again, but people held him back. When the firefighters first searched the house, they didn’t find the boy. Everybody thought he had wandered off, so people started searching the neighborhood and calling his name. I think his name was Paul, but I can’t say for sure. Later, they found his body in the kitchen.

Arthur: Do you remember anything else from that night?

John Doe: I remember the mother sitting on the curb across the street, crying her eyes out, with neighbors around her. I also remember the father getting arrested that same night. From what I heard, it was for a parole violation that had nothing to do with the fire. I always thought that was cold. His family was hurt, and his little boy had just died.

Arthur: You said the child’s name may have been Paul. Do you know if one of the other children was named Griffin?

John Doe: No, not that I know of. I remember hearing Paul. I don’t remember Griffin.

Arthur: As you know, I moved next door to the empty lot where that house once stood. Growing up, I heard stories about what happened there.

John Doe: What stories?

Arthur: When we moved there in 1976, I was only four. The neighborhood kids told me the little boy had caused the fire by playing with matches near the water heater. They also said the whole family died and got buried in the backyard because they couldn’t afford plots in a cemetery.

John Doe: [Laughs] That sounds like something kids would make up. No, that isn’t what happened. There were no backyard burials, and the whole family didn’t die. Only the little boy died in the fire. I remember reading that part in your book and getting a laugh out of it.

Arthur: In my book, The Empty Lot Next Door, I wrote about dreams I had of a little girl coming up out of a hole in the back of the lot.

John Doe: [Laughs again] I remember the hole. But why would she come out of a hole?

Arthur: I wondered if it might have been an old septic tank that caved in.

John Doe: No. Houses over there didn’t use septic tanks. It was probably just a hole. I wouldn’t get carried away.

Arthur: I used to stand around that hole with the other kids. One of the older boys, Randy, dared somebody to jump in and said the ghost of a little girl would haunt whoever did it. One evening, I jumped in. After that, I started dreaming about a little girl with a burned face. Later, she left handprints on my windows. To me, that proved she was real.

John Doe: But you don’t know she was buried there. Why did you jump in?

Arthur: I was the smallest kid around, and I was tired of being overlooked. I wanted to do something that made me stand out on my own, outside my brother Ricky’s shadow.

John Doe: Well, whatever the reason, maybe you woke something up. I don’t think she was buried there. Maybe it was some kind of portal. But you’re the investigator, not me.

Arthur: If it were some kind of portal, do you think it could be closed?

John Doe: You’re making it sound like a movie.

Arthur: Mr. Doe, do you believe in Candle Face?

John Doe: Yes. It’s better to believe, just in case. It’s akin to an insurance policy. If you believe, you’re safe. If not, you might get a visit.

Arthur: How do you know that? Why do you think she goes after people who don’t believe?

John Doe: I’ve heard stories over the years. People say she goes after skeptics, especially people living on the street or making bad choices, though not always. Some decent people have had run-ins too. I can’t explain all that. I only know what I heard and what I saw myself.

Arthur: You saw her?

John Doe: Yes. Around 1990, I was walking my dog near that creek you wrote about, by Wilson and El Paso streets. I saw a young girl in the water. She had long dark hair and looked like she was bathing or washing off. She looked up at me, and we locked eyes. I kept trying to get a better look. I thought I heard a voice say, “Do you believe?” Maybe it was the wind. Maybe it wasn’t. I said yes, as quietly as I could, just in case. She went back to what she was doing. I never saw her again. Later, I heard other stories about a little girl ghost, though people didn’t call her Candle Face. I believed it was the same one.

Arthur: Do you think Candle Face is still out there?

John Doe: Yes, I do.

Arthur: In July, when we spoke on the phone, you said you had information about Candle Face from before I awakened her. What did you mean?

John Doe: I meant I saw her in 1990, long before you wrote your book. I didn’t know you back then. I didn’t know your story. That’s all I meant.

Arthur: Do you think anyone else from the neighborhood may have seen her or heard stories about her?

John Doe: Probably. I know a few people who might know something. Most are my age. A couple is closer to yours. But I don’t know if they would talk.

Arthur: Why not?

John Doe: Because some of them don’t believe. And even if they say they don’t believe, they’re still scared.

Arthur: If they don’t believe, then maybe they don’t have anything to worry about.

John Doe: That’s not how fear works. You can still be scared even if you don’t believe. Maybe especially then. But I’m not asking around for you. That’s your job.

Arthur: Fair enough. Anything else you want to add?

John Doe: Just be careful. You may find what you’re looking for. And if you do, remember what I told you. Belief may be its own kind of insurance.

Arthur: Thank you for your time, Mr. Doe.

Mr. Doe shared a lot about the fire and what people were already saying. As I continue looking into her past, I keep returning to Shakespeare’s line: “There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy.”

The investigation continues in the three most recent entries below. Each adds to the record on Candle Face (Isabel), the Lost Souls, and the Fugitives. You’ll find every entry to date in The Journal.