Nestled in a valley between the rolling hills of Palo Pinto County, about an hour west of Fort Worth, the Crazy Water Hotel rises seven stories over downtown Mineral Wells, Texas—a Spanish Colonial Revival monument to one of the strangest chapters in American health tourism. The building at 401 North Oak Avenue dates to 1927, but the story beneath it reaches back to 1881, when a settler named James Alvis Lynch drilled a well on his property and discovered the water tasted foul. His wife drank it anyway. Her arthritis improved. Word spread. By 1888 a third well had been dug on nearby land, and from it a woman suffering from apparent dementia reportedly drank daily until her condition seemed to lift. Local schoolchildren began calling it the Crazy Well. The name stuck, the woman vanished unnamed into history, and Mineral Wells was born. By the early 1900s the town was a full-blown health resort, with bathhouses, spas, and pavilions serving over a hundred thousand visitors a year. The original Crazy Hotel was built atop the old well site in 1912, completed by 1914. On March 15, 1925, a fire that started in an adjacent drugstore leveled the entire block. Dallas insurance magnate Carr Collins and his brother Hal purchased the ruins and commissioned architects Lang and Witchell to rebuild. The new seven-story Crazy Water Hotel opened March 11, 1927, with over two hundred rooms, a semi-Moorish pavilion advertised as having the largest mineral water counter in the world, a rooftop ballroom, basement bathhouses, and bowling lanes. Filmmaker D.W. Griffith stayed in 1929. Judy Garland visited on a USO tour in 1942. Rumors persisted that Bonnie and Clyde passed through. By the late 1940s, advances in medicine had rendered mineral water cures obsolete, and Mineral Wells' tourism collapsed. The Crazy Water survived where most others didn't, converting to a retirement and assisted-living center. It served in that capacity for decades before closing in 2010. The building sat empty until local developers rallied eighty-eight Texas investors to fund a restoration. The Crazy Water Hotel reopened in October 2021 as a boutique hotel, its first guests the crew of Paramount's 1883. It is listed on the National Register of Historic Places. The paranormal claims center on the kitchen and basement areas, anchored by named witnesses and specific incidents. In the early 1990s, reconstruction of the first-floor kitchen seemed to stir something. Employee Amy Harris reported that in 1994, while preparing breakfast, a little girl in an old-fashioned pink dress with white stockings appeared at her side, hands perched on the table, watching her work. The figure was visible for seconds before vanishing. At Christmas 1999, Harris felt something pass directly through her while entering the kitchen. Another employee, Isabel Hernandez, described a little girl's spirit that followed her through the kitchen and once called her by a family nickname known to no one outside her relatives. She also reported being touched while working the serving line. An employee named Walter heard the child sobbing in the basement and encountered a cold spot at the source of the sound. Linda Ruiz reported seeing in April 2000 a man in a long trench coat in the kitchen, dressed as if from the 1930s or 1940s, who appeared briefly and vanished. Maintenance worker Richard Curtis spotted the little girl near the basement elevators—in the oldest section of the building, where charred brick walls from the 1925 fire still survive. A visitor to the former rooftop ballroom described seeing the figure of a woman in a long red 1930s-style dress near a window. The figure disappeared instantly and no one else was on the floor. The accounts share a common texture: figures in period clothing, visible for only seconds, vanishing without interaction or menace. No one has identified the little girl, the man in the trench coat, or the woman in red. The hotel's century of history encompasses tens of thousands of guests, many of whom arrived sick and desperate, and its later use as a retirement facility adds another layer of human passage. The basement, which predates the current structure and retains fire-scarred walls from the original hotel, is the area most consistently associated with unexplained sounds and cold spots. Today the Crazy Water Hotel operates as a restored boutique property with retail shops and a coffee bar serving the same mineral water that started everything. The pavilion floor has been restored to its original terrazzo. The rooftop still offers views of the Palo Pinto hills. Whether the little girl in the pink dress is still watching from the kitchen doorway is a question the hotel does not discourage guests from exploring for themselves.