Serving Whitman County since 1877
Serving Whitman County since 1877
ST. JOHN — Rock Lake, nestled in the rolling Palouse hills of Eastern Washington, has long been cursed—a reputation steeped in eerie legends and tragic history. The small town of Rock Lake once existed along its shorelines, but its waters seem to hold something darker beneath the surface.
In 1905, Willis Anson Evans saw an opportunity in the area when he heard the railroad was coming through. He purchased land along the outflow of Rock Lake and built a small resort called Cliff House. Cliff House became a popular spot for railroad workers and tourists with a store, dance hall and a cozy hotel.
Rooms were rented for 75 cents per night, and Mrs. Evans offered hearty meals for just 35 cents. The hotel’s guests could enjoy a scenic boat tour on a steamboat that Evans himself built, cruising the lake’s mysterious waters.
But despite Evans’ efforts, the town never thrived. After a devastating flood in 1910, Rock Lake’s town was abandoned, leaving behind the ruins of Cliff House, torn down sometime between 1920 and 1922.
Today, only traces remain—a rock precipice overlooking the lake, once the proud foundation of Cliff House, and remnants of a once-vital railroad trestle.
Though Rock Lake’s resort era is long gone, the lake’s dark allure has only grown over time.
The Spokane Tribe, who lived in the area long before settlers arrived, believed something enormous lived in the lake’s depths.
Many local landowners have echoed this tale, with anglers and boaters recounting strange encounters.
Some have reported seeing massive objects on their fish finders, while others claim something large bumped their boats, once nearly tossing a fisherman into the lake.
Adding to the mystery, legends persist about a train carrying Ford-Model Ts that plunged into the lake from the trestle, sinking to the depths where the cold water preserves them to this day.
During World War II, another tale emerged—this time of military staff cars meeting a similar watery fate.
While some dismiss these stories as pure fiction, the lake’s unpredictable depths, reaching more than 300 feet in places, seem capable of holding any number of secrets.
Tragedy also strikes with grim regularity.
A chilling curse is said to hover over the lake, placed by a Native American chief who foretold that one white man would die in the lake each year—a prophecy that has eerily held true.
Many more deaths mark rock Lake’s dark history.
In 1956, four soldiers home on leave were lost in a sudden storm; their bodies never recovered despite military efforts.
Even a hog-wire screen stretched across the lake’s outlet failed to catch them.
Another tale speaks of two priest brothers who met a similar fate—one body tangled in boat ropes, while the other slipped into the water, never to be found.
Strange sounds often echo across the lake at night: distant laughter, faint piano music, and whispers of a long-lost world.
Some even claim to hear Native American drums and war cries, or the phantom wail of a steam whistle from a train that never arrives.
With its forbidding basalt cliffs and cold, deep waters that never seem to warm, Rock Lake continues to be a place of mystery and danger. Though it offers the beauty of solitude and the allure of adventure, few can forget the stories that haunt its shores—the lake that has swallowed lives, legends and secrets for centuries.
Olivia Harnack is a Journalist at the Whitman County Gazette. Olivia is enrolled at University of Idaho and is majoring in digital film studies. She serves in the United States Army National Guard and is proud to serve Whitman County.
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