Owners Paul and Myra Rees stand among aisles of booths at the 22nd Street Antique Mall, where an orb has shown up in a photograph in the past. Spooky sorts of things "happen all the time around here," Myra says.

Photos by Greg Bryan / arizona daily star

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Furniture that seemingly moves on its own. A child only another child can see, patting a rocking horse. Typewriters that suddenly start clacking. Music boxes that suddenly start playing. A woman in a long dress, floating above the floor.

Such are the tales of the owners and employees of the 22nd Street Antique Mall, whose mysterious goings-on have garnered a chapter in the book, "Scare-Izona," a travel guide to the state's "spookiest spots."

"They said we were moderate," says Myra Rees, owner of the mall, along with her husband, Paul Rees.

Both heard the windup music box playing, only to discover no one there. Both have experienced feelings of dread in certain areas. Neither can explain it.

"I don't know what's happening," says Myra, 62, who has a master's degree in clothing and textiles from the University of Arizona.

"I still don't believe it," says Paul, 78, a retired trial lawyer and former Pima County deputy attorney.

In other words, these folks aren't flakes. Nor do they seem to be rounding up tales in hopes of goosing Halloween sales.

"These sort of things happen all the time around here," says Myra, a sensible sort who works out of a former mop closet-turned-office at the store.

Built as a furniture store in 1961 by the late Jack Mitchell, the property at 5302 E. 22nd St. was bought from Mitchell's estate by the couple in the early 1980s.

They rented it out for several years, sold it in 1999, then repossessed it from bankruptcy in 2005.

More than 100 dealers sell from 120 booths and showcases set up throughout the 31,000-square-foot store.

Almost immediately after taking back the store, Paul and Myra started hearing tales from employees and customers, who are encouraged to write down their experiences in a journal kept at the cash register.

Sample: "While upstairs looking at the furniture, my 9-year-old daughter saw a rocking chair move but no one was near it."

Many of the occurrences noted by employees seem to happen around opening or closing time.

Assistant manager Kathy Sevits, who has worked at the store for eight years, has heard typewriters clacking in an empty upstairs, as well as footsteps.

But perhaps her scariest moment came when she drove up to the store, the first one there that morning:

"When I pulled up, the outside lights were on, then they went off. I thought maybe a bulb went out but the whole row was out. I was still in my car when I saw a man inside wearing a hat stoop down. I waited for others to get here before I would go inside. When I did, the light switch was turned off."

Fred Garcia, an employee and dealer at the mall, was arranging his display case when he noticed a woman wearing a long dress and black hat. "She was not walking, she was floating. Towards me. I did not look at her face. It scared me. When I looked back, she was gone."

Garcia's wife, Pat Garcia, says she was in the booth a few months ago. "I felt something hard hit my back. I looked down. It was a brand new penny. Nobody was there. I see pennies on the floor all the time."

Employees also noticed fuzz and "hair" on the floor next to a toy rocking horse.

"A little boy said he saw a little girl patting the back of the horse," says Myra. "An employee asked the little boy to ask the little girl not to pat the horse anymore. It never happened again."

In October of 2006, the Star published several ghostly accounts by readers, including one sent in by Myra Rees. Above her entry was one sent in by Katie Mullaly, then in the process of writing "Scare-Izona."

She contacted Myra and went to the store in late February of 2007, adding that no money changed hands for the store's inclusion in the book. Also with Mullaly was co-author J. Patrick Ohlde and Mullaly's husband, Mikal Mullaly.

All did separate walkthroughs. Their reportings included sensations of heaviness and also a feeling that they were not alone, particularly upstairs in the area known as Booth 52, where Katie Mullaly wrote that she felt that "my head might, at any second, spin off my neck like some deranged children's toy."

Three photos were taken aimed down an aisle, with one showing a lighted orb. "A lot of people say that's from dust, but I'm of the belief that every picture would show it," says Katie Mullaly.

Whatever ghostliness is out there, both she and Myra think its cause is not the mall but the merchandise inside.

Says Myra: "I think people don't want to give up their possessions."