Spend enough time in downtown Appleton and you're bound to hear a rumor or two about what's underneath your feet.
Some say they've heard there are tunnels underneath College Avenue. Some claim the former Viking Theater building has multiple basements (is it three? four? nine?). You might even hear about some kind of secret passageway from basement to basement or bar to bar.
It turns out that as this game of telephone has gone on from year to year and generation to generation, the realities have become warped and exaggerated. What results is a mishmash of history, misunderstanding and make-believe.
Still, there are kernels of truth to be uncovered.
First, a little background
Before we get to where we're going, it's essential to understand some of Appleton's geographical history.
A long time ago, the land that is the downtown looked a lot different — and not just because of all the buildings, blacktop and cement.
If you come across an old map of the city, particularly those hand-sketched models from the late 1800s, you'll see the Fox River once had tributaries that left gaping ravines throughout the landscape. As Appleton Historical Society board member Laura Leimer put it, Appleton was once known as "The City of Ravines."
There were more than 20 of these huge green gorges on the north side of the river and another 10 or so to the south. The most prominent was the Mill Creek ravine, which connected the two low areas that are now Arbutus and Jones parks. Another was the Newberry Creek ravine, which is responsible for the Banta Bowl. Peabody Park, too, is what remains of another.
So what happened to them? Believe it or not, they were filled in — sometimes with garbage.
The city didn't begin regular trash pickup until 1947, though officials discussed implementing some kind of system for at least 25 years prior. So for years, people used the ravines as a dumping ground for all things unwanted. In fact, at times city officials encouraged residents to dump rubbish into specific areas so roads could be built and extended without steep slopes.
For decades, these ravines — which were often gathering places, sort of naturally formed parks before actual city parks were a thing — were used as dumping grounds. Some residents found this disgusting. Others probably found it convenient.
Eventually, most of the ravines were filled in by a mix of trash or dirt so that the downtown could be mostly flat. Flat was desirable, especially for commerce in the first half of the 1900s.
There's still a lot of evidence of the Mill Creek ravine if you know what you're looking for. It's why College Avenue dips at the Division Street intersection and both Jones and Arbutus parks mostly hold their shape.
There's evidence around from their days as dumps, too. When the post office was built in the early 1970s, special ventilation fans were installed in a crawl space underneath the building because of methane gas. When the hotel that's now the Red Lion Hotel Paper Valley and the Fox Cities Performing Arts Center went up, builders had to take into account the fact the ground underneath contained layers of years-old trash.
The ravines are mostly gone, but their influence can be seen all over over downtown.
The Bahcall building basement(s)
Let me guess: You've heard the Bahcall building — which for decades was the Viking Theater and currently is the home of Katsu Ya of Japan — has multiple basements.
Built in 1942, the structure was once one of the largest on the avenue. And when the Viking Theater began its 50-year run that year, it was one of its most exciting.
The theater closed in 1992 and was most notably followed by a run of nightclubs, including Route 66, Wet and Luna Lounge. Hiro Nakashima bought the building in 2015 and, after a lot of renovation work, opened the new location of Katsu Ya in 2016.
So, how many levels down does it go? Sorry to be a buzzkill, but the answer is just two.
Shane Nyman explores the Bahcall building basement which was originally the Viking Theater. It's now home to Katsu Ya. Dan Powers, USA TODAY NETWORK-Wisconsin
The building still has some very unusual traits, mostly because of where it was built. The entire structure is more than 60 feet tall, but more than half is underground. Each of its two basements are 16 feet high. (The first level below ground does have an area, under what was once the theater, that's sloped and not as tall. This part is likely what some have referred to as another basement.)
The reason the building reaches about 35 feet deep into the ground is because it was built at the bottom of the Mill Creek ravine. It needed such a large basement and a sub-basement so that the Viking Theater and Atlantic and Pacific supermarket, its two original businesses, would be at street level. Back in the days before the ravine was completely filled, a bridge was built traversing it at the intersection of College and Division.
We've also been told that in the 1980s there was a full-size basketball court in one of the basements. There's no evidence of that today, but the building did at one time contain the Nautilus Health & Fitness Center. A 1982 newspaper ad referenced a swimming pool, whirlpool, sauna and aerobic equipment, so a basketball court wouldn't be too outlandish.
Though there's nowhere to play ball, the basements are still a sight. Each level has its own huge, wide-open room with rows of columns. Beyond its size and the maze of rooms and hallways, it mostly looks, smells and feels like a 76-year-old basement. It's damp and dark and most would find it a little spooky.
"I don't go down there very much," said Lisa Nakashima, who works at Katsu Ya and is the daughter of Hiro Nakashima. "It's kind of scary."
The only evidence of tunnels is a square opening in a wall facing College Avenue. I poked my head in to find a watery, sludgy mess below and, with only the light from an iPhone, it looked like there were some small areas that could be explored further. It would take somebody OK with army crawling in very tight, dirty and possibly flooded spaces. I also can't guarantee Pennywise the clown wasn't lurking just beyond the reach of my light.
The Zuelke building basement
Another basement rumor that's been emanating from the lips and keyboards of those with interest in the Fox Cities is about the historic Zuelke Building. This one's not a matter of depth — it's a matter of extravagance. Some have heard the basement of the Zuelke building is an old ballroom. It's a notion that resurfaced recently as talks of redevelopment of the 103 W. College Ave. property have ramped up.
It's no wonder the towering 12-floor structure is the subject of legend. Built in 1931 with seven stories of steel, stone, marble and brass, it was erected on the same spot where two previous buildings had stood — both of which burned down. (The first was destroyed in 1875, the second in 1928.)
Five stories were added on in 1951 and for decades it was among the most prominent structures in the downtown.
John Ross of J. Ross & Associates now manages the nearly 90-year-old building and put to rest any talk of the basement being any sort of secret ballroom.
The basement is "kind of a mishmash of stuff," he said, though some areas do have marble floors and "fairly elaborate ceilings." Still, he said it wouldn't be appropriate to label it a ballroom.
It sounds like it was once used as a gathering or meeting space but now is used simply for storage. For those of you who'd been picturing some grandiose Overlook Hotel-style ballroom, no such luck.
Tunnels under downtown
If you've long imagined some kind of "Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles"-style tunnel system underneath College Avenue, you're going to be disappointed.
It's possible there was once some sort of tunnel or tunnels in the downtown — the filled-in ravines would make it a little more feasible. But Paula Vandehey, Appleton’s public works director, said beyond the expected sewage and storm drainage systems, there are no tunnels under the downtown.
The rumors that have circulated for years are likely the result of a few different things melding together or getting exaggerated over the years.
Some of the talk related to tunnel exploring likely comes from folks climbing into the storm drainage systems around the city. While there aren't any of the larger (and walkable) nearly-6-foot diameter pipes downtown, there are others further out, including on Atlantic and Pacific streets.
"College Avenue may be a major thoroughfare or a major roadway above ground, but below ground it's not like a stormwater highway," said Pete Neuberger, a city project engineer. "We don't have big pipes there."
People have been known to crawl into these tunnels in other parts of the city. Some have put their explorations on YouTube.
But it's worth pointing out that walking or crawling into sewage or drainage pipes — especially if they're in relation to especially old buildings — just isn't a bright idea. Neuberger said they can contain low levels of oxygen, especially in areas where air isn't circulating, or troublesome odorless gases like methane. Storm drainage pipes also can get backed up when the river level is especially high, creating potentially dangerous conditions for curious explorers.
Other buildings may have short tunnels or crawlspaces, but there's no lengthy walkway connecting a string of properties. If there once were any tunnels from one side of College to the other — something the city has seen no evidence of over the years — they'd likely have been destroyed during the major avenue re-do in the early 2000s, Vandehey said. (That likely puts to bed any ideas about that opening in the Katsu Ya basement.)
Perhaps you've heard ...
♦ The nearly century-old Wichmann building on College Avenue, now owned by Riverview Gardens, has been the subject of a few rumors — mostly regarding an underground tunnel in its basement.
Pilar Martinez, the director of community engagement for Riverview Gardens, said the rumored tunnel does exist, although it really is just more of a hallway. It connects the basement of the building to a smaller building across the alley behind it.
Perhaps a more interesting note, though, is something else in the basement. There's a crematory down there. That's because the Wichmann name on the furniture business that opened with the building in 1922 is of the same family that's attached to the modern day Wichmann-Fargo Funeral Homes & Crematories. The family's been in both businesses a long time. The first Wichmann Funeral Home was founded in 1898.
♦ The College Avenue building that contains both Jimmy John's and the Durty Leprechaun is another with a basement and a sub-basement. Like the Katsu Ya building, it was built in the ravine, and is located right at the previously mentioned dip in College Avenue.
♦ In the area that is now D2 Sports Pub's outdoor patio, next to the Jimmy John's/Durty Leprechaun building, once stood a restaurant called (among other things) Spudnut Coffee Shop. Next to it was a deep slope from the ravine. Some remember it as a pit.
"The Spudnut would take their coffee grounds and grease and stuff like that and toss it out the back," Leimer remembered. The building was demolished in 1989.
♦ Some older basements on College Avenue have remnants from bygone eras, including chutes for coal and old storefronts that are now underground. The street and alley levels appear to have changed over the years. Coventry Glassworks & Gallery and Appleton Beer Factory, for instance, both have old window or door openings in basements that are now sealed off.
The image of the hand-drawn map from 1867 is courtesy of Garret Behm and the Appleton Historical Society.