24 Oct 2nd-Oct 8th, 2025 phoenixnewtimes.com PHOENIX NEW TIMES | NEWS | FEATURE | FOOD & DRINK | ARTS & CULTURE | MUSIC | CONCERTS | CANNABIS | was in the building. I feel he was climbing around, being a kid, being in places he shouldn’t be, just endlessly playing, like a never-ending game of hide-and-seek,” Dagerman said, noting that the dead bells and music box – items that would draw a child’s attention – seemed to chime most when the team was attempting to speak to Harry and Josephine. Later, Mednansky and Dagerman peeled off to the dining area. While they were sitting near the larger fermentation tanks, Mednansky says she felt an unexplainable anticipation for something small to run by. She mentioned the feeling to one of the other investigators, who also thought they were seeing a shadow in the back of the dining area. Later, one of the Four Peaks staff members mentioned that there is a strong belief that a ghost cat roams the building. “I’m a big animal person, so I feel like I know when one of my dogs or cats is about to walk into a room, so maybe it was that intu- ition going off,” Mednansky said. ‘Anthony’ By far, the most infamous spirit to call Four Peaks Brewery home is an entity the staff named “Anthony.” The employees say that he seems to respond to that name, which is important because he is very territorial. Staff likes to communicate when they have to intrude by addressing him directly and explaining their intentions. His space is an old storage room off the main brewing and keg rooms. Anthony has been known to get physical with intruders. He likes to rush employees in the darkness, who then claim to feel a cold wind and a very heavy, almost physical presence. Ashley says she experienced this first- hand when she stepped to the threshold of Anthony’s room. “I was using the dowsing rods, near the entrance to Anthony’s room door, and I felt a cold gust of wind at my waist and then two hands on my thighs. I tried to move and couldn’t. Justin had to move me – this had never happened on any investigation we have been on,” she recalls. After a beat, the team regrouped, with Economos leading a conversation with Anthony after respectfully asking for consent to enter his space. Economos attempted to engage with Anthony, asking questions about his life, his death and his timeline. The EVP kept returning to the number 33, and when asked who was president when he passed, the device seemed to piece together the word “Roosevelt.” At one point, when Anthony was asked about his dating life, the EVP elicited a deep, guttural chuckle. Despite his gruff exterior, Anthony seemed to enjoy the banter. “Anthony’s presence is undeniable,” Economos asserts. “You can feel that it’s his space — almost like you’re stepping into his domain. What stood out to me most was that he didn’t just feel heavy or intimidating; there was also a playful side to him. He seemed to enjoy the interaction, almost like he liked telling his story and joking around with us.” With the ice broken between the team and Anthony, other investigators stopped by to respectfully engage. The consensus was that, while terrifying at first, he gives off grumpy old man vibes. He is not necessarily a bad guy, just someone — or something — wanting respect. “If I were here for an eternity, and people were always coming into my space, demanding to interact with me, and asking me the same questions over and over again, I would be grumpy too!” Mednansky admits. The Estes Method In the final hours of the investigation, the team decided to conduct what they referred to as an Estes Method in the upper floor of the brewery. The Estes Method takes the EVP to another level by using a sensory- deprived (blindfolded and headphone-wearing) investigator to channel the voices of the dead. While other investigators ask the spirits questions, the “transmitter” person blocks out all senses except the sounds of the EVP spirit box, which are connected to their headphones. The transmitter person then speaks the words they hear, while the other investi- gators ask questions of the dead. This approach allegedly cuts down on distrac- tions or inadvertent bias. Mednansky volunteers to go first. A motion sensor flickers on the stairs, where, earlier, Dagerman and Justin reported seeing a crouching shadow person on the landing. The others ask questions and small requests, politely suggesting that the spirits ring the bells or give some information about their experiences. The ghosts, if they are such things, seem to be excited and eager to share, and Mednansky has trouble parceling out the different voices and phrases, almost as if they are talking over each other. “Hi,” they say through her. The music boxes ratchet to life, plinking classical music on metal teeth and pins. She asks if they need help moving on, but it seems they like it here; they want to try something, want to play, and they remember when they became what they are now. The phrases come from Mednansky’s voice but are words she is repeating from the Spirit Box. “I like you,” Mednansky says. The ghost texting app reveals a nickname for the Four Peaks employee who is sitting with us, a name that no one at the table, save him, would recognize. Then, he bolts upright. Something has poked the back of his head while he was sitting with his eyes closed. He explains the touch, using two fingers on the back of the skull and pushing lightly, the way a child might if they were playing duck-duck-goose. This seems like a good time to call it a night. We pack up and head down the stairs, no one eager to be the last and have to turn out the lights. Most definitely haunted It’s almost 4:30 a.m., and the team is debriefing in the parking lot as the night sky slides over the Tempe skyline. The team does a last ritual: telling the spirits, sternly, not to follow them home. “You have to be kind, but firm. Do not be rude, but set a boundary,” Justin asserts. The question lingers. Is it haunted? For this group, it’s a resounding yes. But also, no. Haunting isn’t quite the right word. It implies that a space is scary and carries residual pain. The word they use instead is “busy.” The Four Peaks brewpub embodies the best of being alive: good food, good beer and good conversations. According to the ghost hunting team, it’s not hard to imagine that spirits are still drawn to the same things, that energy of aliveness, and as such, the brewery seems to attract them. Some come, kick around and then leave, but others, like Victor and Anthony, seem to stay. “The building isn’t haunted,” Ashley concluded. “The whole grounds are.” At the end of the day, spirits or not, the team reiterates that it’s about people. When it comes to ghosts, we are the tourists – and it’s best to lead with respect when encoun- tering them. “Spirits were people once, so why treat them any differently than the people in front of you? They were once someone’s relative, friend, coworker. It’s safe to assume that doesn’t change. Just because you cannot physically touch them, doesn’t mean they don’t have feelings or give an investigator the right to be aggressive,” Dagerman insists. The sky starts to lighten as the investiga- tors pack up and head to their cars. It’s only then, outside the pitch-black recesses of the brewery and in the coming light, the Get Ghosted slogan is visible on the back of their shirts. It reads: “Future Ghost.” Four Peaks Brewery 1340 E. Eighth St., Tempe Boos and Brews from p 22 The paranormal investigative group Rogue Investigations came to Four Peaks with a tech-forward approach to the ghost hunt. (Zach Oden)
