Globe-Democrat: “Did you ever hear tell of the ghost of Heiser’s hill?”
    The question was asked by a gray-haired guard to whom a Globe-Democrat correspondent was talking about the ghostly inhabitants of the park. He had already told the newspaper man of the peacock lady, the spectral bootman and the ghostly lion-tamer.
    In answer to his question the newspaper man said he had not, and asked to hear the story. “No? Why I thought every one had heard about him. Heiser’s Hill is on the west side of the park near Ninetieth street, and old man Heiser lived there in a shanty long before the park was thought of. They say he was a miser, and had a big hoard of buried gold somewhere near his cabin. However that may be, and I never heard that any one ever found any of it. Old Heiser lived entirely alone, never did a day’s work, yet always seemed to have money enough to buy groceries. One night he took poison, and besides, cut his throat from ear to ear with a razor. Several days after a horrid odor called the attention of some passers-by, and they went to the cabin door which they found unlocked, and after knocking sometime in vain they found the old man’s corpse in the first stages of decomposition with the worms crawling in and out of his nose and mouth.
    In his hand, still held tight with a death grip, was a lock of golden wavy hair, and an old fashioned silk mitten lay on the floor beside him. The mitten was made for a very small hand, and did not seem to have been worn much. No one at the time could explain where these things came from, but I’ll tell you a story about them I’ve heard presently. Be that as it may, they were all the same; and what was still more strange, they were stolen the day they were found. Old Heiser was taken away and buried, but for some reason he can’t rest in his grave. Nearly every night he can be seen up around the place where he used to live, hunting about for something he hasn’t found yet, and don’t seem likely to. Whether it is his buried gold, or the the little mitten and lock of blonde hair, is more than any one can say. I have seen him often myself, but not of late, as I am not assigned to that part of the park. But other men tell me he is still to be seen hunting for something every night.
    “Now and then a green man [newly recruited officer] is put on the Heiser Hill beat; and it is twenty to one he comes in before long looking pale, and reports sick. The old men, like myself, are used to Heiser, and some say he’s good company, but I’d rather be alone for my part. Several years ago, while I was on the Heiser Hill beat, a woman asked me to point out to her the location of the old Heiser shanty. She was about seventy years old, I should say, and well dressed, and seemed to be an out and out lady. She was tall, and, in spite of her age, walked with a great deal of style. When I showed her the spot she sat down on a settee close by, and asked me to tell her all I knew about the old man. After telling her, she was very still for a time, then I could see tears rolling out of her eyes. I asked her if she knew anything about the old man, and she said yes. She had known him many years ago when he was young; that he had accidentally committed manslaughter and fled from his country, which was Germany, to escape the consequences. She had heard of the ghost and come to see the spot. This was all I ever heard of the matter. I suppose she was the woman who once owned the mitten and the lock of hair. However, she did not say so, and she never came back to the park again as I am aware of.”

From— Omaha Daily Bee. (Omaha [Neb.]), 17 July 1887. Chronicling America: Historic American Newspapers. Lib. of Congress.