Red Lion Pub

The story

In 1984, former Chicago city planning director and RAF veteran John Cordwell bought a grime-encrusted dive called Dirty Dan’s Western Saloon and turned it into an unapologetically British outpost. Today, his son Colin runs the place less like a neighborhood bar and more like a live-in war museum and private library—floor-to-ceiling books, WWI military helmets behind the bar, dark oak paneling, Tudor beams, and strictly no televisions to disrupt conversation. But the building's real foundation goes back much further: this stretch of Lincoln Avenue sits over 19th-century burial grounds once used for cholera victims and Confederate prisoners.

Because of that soil, regulars and bartenders insist you aren't drinking alone. As many as seven distinct phantoms reportedly haunt the space, none more famous than the 'Lavender Woman' upstairs. She doesn't rattle chains or make dramatic entrances; she simply drops the room’s temperature by ten degrees and fills the second-floor air with a thick, sudden drift of heavy vintage perfume. Other patrons report hearing unseen children giggling in empty corners, or catching glimpses of a mysterious figure dressed in attire that doesn't align with any known era of local history.

When the original, termite-damaged 1882 structure was demolished and completely rebuilt between 2008 and 2014, locals assumed the ghostly phenomena would vanish along with the old floorboards. They didn't. The rebuilt pub preserved the Tudor beams, dark oak, and roaring winter fireplaces, and the eerie cold spots upstairs remained right where they were. You didn't hear it from us, but if you want to test the stories, grab an upstairs table on a quiet weeknight, order a cask ale, and wait to see if floral perfume wafts past your bench.