Coolopolis has been tearing up the floorboards to expose stories of mystically-inclined adventures from that era.
One reader has stepped up to the plate to deliver this crazy story from about 1968.
Please help us fill in the missing pieces on this bizarre place in the east end.
Bev and I were coming up Bishop from St Catherine heading to the Cafe Prag when we crossed diagonally in the middle of the block in front of it. We had to overshoot a bit because of a group of people standing around a convertible parked on the East side just in front of the Prag.
There were two guys and four girls just sort of hanging there. We passed them and continued onto the sidewalk. Bev kept looking back and commented on how gorgeous one of the guys was. I had seen that they were all good looking, well-dressed people, as we passed right by them but my eyesight was very bad and details got blurry past arm’s length.
We continued on and sat on some steps just past The Annex. We were discussing what to do next with our limited funds when two of the girls from the group came up to us.
They were a little older than us and looked really hip and pretty. They spoke English with some kind of Eastern European accent. There were a lot of people like that at the Prag because owner, Kurt was of those origins and he made the Prag a sort of gathering spot for them.
Of the two girls who came to talk to us, both were late teens to at most early twenties, one was taller than the other, maybe 5’7” or 5'8" and slim. The other was maybe 5’5” and was also pretty and slim. I don’t know accents but I thought maybe Czech or Hungarian, something like that, but not strong and guttural, light and cute.
The taller one did almost all the talking and was very funny and persuasive to overcome our hesitancy. They invited us to a party, Come, smoke a little, drink a little, have some fun!
The guys were not very tall , maybe 5’8' or 5’9”, slim builds and lots of hair, maybe light brown to sandy color. They spoke French but said little.
We hemmed and hawed but after a bit of cajoling we said okay. I guess because they were beautiful people and because there were more girls than guys and the guys weren’t big mean muscle bound guys, we felt secure enough to go.
It was early evening when we all got into the car. They put the top up because we were too many people in the car and we headed East but seemed to make useless turns and wander a bit until the sun set and it started to get dark. We then turned down a laneway.
It had a wall at least five feet high, topped by schoolyard high Frost fencing all along one side and houses on the other side.
We pulled up to a door that opened directly onto the lane and all got out. We entered a kitchen where there was music playing and a couple of girls were sort of dancing. One other guy was there, the only really dark-haired person other than myself.
He soon disappeared into another room further into the house where there seemed to be something going on. After a bit, they all said, come, come into the other room.
Well, the other room was actually a very large double parlor that stretched all the way back to the laneway wall, 25-30 feet, with a window and a doorway at the far end. There was no furniture.
People were sitting everywhere on the floor with just a path where we could enter. They led us to the centre of the room and told us to sit and relax. There was a white sheet on the floor where they told us to sit. We sat but I was ill at ease.
The more I looked around the more I wanted to leave and I told Bev I was leaving. Other than the original two guys and the dark haired guy, it was all girls.
No one was smoking, drinking, dancing. They were all very subdued and the atmosphere was very strange and quiet. No candles, no music other than what was coming from the kitchen.
Then the lights went out into total darkness. Where I had seen doors and windows were now totally blacked out, totally invisible. Then a rustling all around us and the chant began. The name they called chilled my blood.
There was absolutely no light. No candle. No forewarning to us, and the name that I thought I heard called in the chant was Satanic. No one made any kind of pass at us or acted in any way sexual.
I hear Bev’s shaky voice say “What’s happening?” I say "I don’t know, but I’m leaving! Give me your hand!” I took her hand and put it on my shoulder and told her to hold on, stand up now and follow me.
I knew where the door was and even though they had dropped a blanket in front of it managed to find the door handle and get out! I kicked and knocked a good few people out of our way to leave that room, dragging Beverley with me.
There was no one in the kitchen area and we just ran right back out. There was a park at the corner.
It was in front of us and to the right of us and I wasn’t going into the park in the dead of night. We turned left and kept running, all the while checking for followers. We came out on Rouen street and I think made our way down to Ontario Street. I don’t think we stopped running until then.
Bev and I have discussed that evening a few times through the years and have never understood why we went or what exactly happened.
We had heard about people playing nasty jokes, scaring people with occult shit, but Bev and I both knew that there was there was too much that was creepy and off about the whole thing and nobody was laughing when we left.
On top of that , despite always hanging out there and always looking, we never saw any of those people at the Prag ever again.
Because of the somewhat unique location, the house might actually be findable, but I wouldn’t look for it alone.