Some places have a way of sticking with you long after you've left.

For me, the Aztec Hotel in Monrovia, California, is one of those places.

I've visited plenty of interesting locations over the years, filming videos, exploring historic buildings, and discovering stories along America's back roads. But there's something about the Aztec Hotel that I've never quite been able to explain.

And it isn't just the ghost stories.

It's what I experienced personally.

A Strange Landmark Along Route 66

Built in 1925, the Aztec Hotel is one of the most unusual buildings along historic Route 66.

Designed by architect Robert Stacy-Judd, its elaborate Mayan Revival architecture is unlike almost anything else you'll encounter along the Mother Road. Its geometric decorations, detailed ornamentation, and distinctive interior have fascinated visitors for generations.

The building was added to the National Register of Historic Places in 1978.

It also has a connection to Hollywood. The hotel's former Brass Elephant bar served as a filming location for the 2003 movie Bad Santa, starring Billy Bob Thornton.

But beyond its architecture and Hollywood connections, the Aztec has developed another reputation.

It's considered by some paranormal enthusiasts to be one of Southern California's most haunted historic hotels.

And having walked through it myself, I can understand why.

My First Visit — And the Return After Dark

I originally visited the shuttered hotel to explore the property and film a vlog.

That footage survived, and the video remains available on YouTube.

But the experience I remember most came when I returned for a late-night tour, around midnight. As best I recall, we left after the earlier visit and returned that same evening.

The atmosphere inside was noticeably different.

I remember experiencing definite changes in temperature as we moved through the hotel.

Now, old buildings can have drafts, uneven ventilation, and temperature differences for perfectly ordinary reasons. I understand that.

But those temperature changes weren't the strangest part of the night.

That happened when we approached the guest rooms.

The Mystery of Room 120

During the tour, the owners and staff told me that two of the hotel's rooms were associated with stories of people who had died there.

They didn't identify the rooms.

Instead, they asked me to guess.

What happened next is something I can still remember vividly.

I felt drawn toward two particular doors. I can't explain why those rooms caught my attention over the others, but something about them seemed different.

When I placed my hand against the doors, I could have sworn I felt a strange vibration and a noticeable shift in the air.

It was an unusual sensation, and not something I expected.

I selected the rooms.

According to the staff, I had picked both correctly.

Their reaction surprised me almost as much as the experience itself.

Only after I made my selections did they explain the stories associated with those rooms.

The Story Behind Room 120

Years later, looking into the hotel's history revealed an interesting connection.

A May 2011 article in Monrovia Patch documented two versions of a legend involving a fatal head injury in Room 120.

According to local historian Steve Baker, one version involved a newlywed bride who supposedly fell from a bed, struck her head on a radiator, and died.

Another version involved a woman known as Razzle Dazzle, who was allegedly pushed during an argument and suffered a fatal head injury.

These are historical ghost stories, not independently verified accounts of deaths.

But here's what caught my attention.

When I recalled my experience, I remembered being told about someone who had fallen or been pushed, struck their head against furniture, and died.

And I remembered Room 120.

The connection between my recollection and the published legend certainly got my attention.

The second room is less clear in my memory. Room 129 is another location associated with reported unexplained activity, and I remember the two rooms being relatively close to one another. It's possible that 129 was the second room I selected, but I can't say that with certainty.

I also recall being told a story involving a possible suicide. Similar legends appear in accounts of the hotel's paranormal history, although I haven't established whether that story was connected to the second room.

The Missing Security Footage

There was another story shared with me during my visit.

The owners and staff described security camera footage from the hotel's bar area that they believed showed unexplained figures resembling bartenders and musicians.

According to them, that footage had somehow disappeared.

They personally confirmed the loss of the recording when discussing the incident with me.

I never independently verified what those cameras captured, so I can only relate what I was told.

Still, the story became especially memorable because of what happened to my own footage afterward.

The Midnight Footage That Vanished

I recorded video during my nighttime visit.

Afterward, I attempted to transfer that footage from an SD card to another location.

The copy operation appeared to complete.

But when I went to locate the files, something was wrong.

The footage was missing from the destination.

Even stranger, when I checked the SD card, the original files were missing there, too.

Both the source and destination copies had vanished.

As someone with an extensive background in information technology, I'm well aware that storage devices, file systems, and transfer operations can fail. There are technical explanations that have to be considered.

I'm not claiming a ghost deleted my footage.

I can't prove that.

But I can tell you what I experienced: a transfer that appeared to finish, followed by the disappearance of the recordings from both locations.

And unfortunately, that means the part of the visit I would most like to show people is the one part I no longer have.

Some Questions Stay With You

Was everything I experienced at the Aztec Hotel the result of ordinary circumstances?

Possibly.

Could the temperature changes and sensations at those doors have had natural explanations?

Absolutely.

And could the missing footage have been caused by an unusual technical problem?

Of course.

But there are still things about that night I can't fully explain.

I remember the strange sensations at the doors. I remember the staff's reaction when I selected the rooms. And I remember discovering that the video I'd recorded was gone.

None of those experiences proves that the Aztec Hotel is haunted.

But they've certainly given me reasons to remember it.

The Aztec Hotel has stood along the old Route 66 corridor for more than a century. Its walls have witnessed generations of travelers, changing fortunes, and countless stories.

Some of those stories are documented history.

Others are legends.

And a few, like my own experience, remain personal mysteries.

I've never claimed to know exactly what happened that night. I only know what I experienced.

And sometimes, that's enough to leave you wondering.