Tampa Theatre

A lavishly decorated atmospheric theatre opened in 1926, designed to make audiences feel they were watching films under a Mediterranean night sky. The 1,400-pipe Mighty Wurlitzer organ still accompanies silent films.

Tampa Theatre opened in 1926 as a lavish movie palace, designed by architect John Eberson to resemble a Mediterranean courtyard under a starlit sky. The ornate ceiling still twinkles with fiber-optic stars, but the theater's most dedicated employee has been watching over audiences for decades—even after death.

Foster "Fink" Finley worked as the head projectionist for 35 years, from 1930 to 1965. A short, quiet man with glasses, Fink loved his job so much that he routinely arrived by 8 a.m. even though films didn't start until noon. He would climb the steep stairs to the booth drinking coffee and smoking a cigarette, then shave in the adjoining bathroom and dress in his trademark three-piece suit.

When Fink developed cancer, he continued working at his beloved theater until one day he collapsed in the projection booth. His co-projectionist, Bill Hunt, found him and took him home, where he died several weeks later.

The booth has never been the same. Shortly after Fink's funeral, workers noticed the booth door opening and closing on its own—as if someone were entering. Four projectionists over the past five decades have reported the same phenomenon, along with the sensation of being watched during critical moments when changing reels. Some have felt a tap on the shoulder, as if Fink is asking, "Do you need help?"

Beyond the booth, seat 308 attracts particular attention. Multiple witnesses have seen a man in a fedora sitting there when the theater is closed—a ghostly patron from the venue's earliest days. A Woman in White has been spotted sweeping through the upper hallway.

Tampa Theatre embraces its haunted reputation, offering ghost tours and paranormal investigations. A 2020 documentary, "Ghosts Behind the Screen," explores the theater's spectral inhabitants, and staff readily share their own eerie encounters.