The Death and Afterlife of a Porn Star

By Connie Hall-Scott

In the early morning hours of December 2007 I was awakened by a ringing telephone.

“I need you to get some of your ghostbusting friends down to Atlanta,” an animated voice roared. “Frank’s here. He’s at my condo.”

It was Steve Foster – an eccentric doctor I had befriended four years earlier. At the time of his call I worked for his nonprofit organization and as his administrative assistant. The late night phone calls weren’t unusual. His interest in anything to do with the paranormal was. Steve claimed not to believe in things that go bump in the night.

“Okay,” I yawned, waiting for the punchline.

“I’m serious,” he asserted. “If you don’t believe me ask David, he’s here too.”

Over the next half hour I spoke with Steve and his pal David Holcomb about Frank Savoie, a former Canadian who allegedly took his life at Steve’s condo almost a year earlier. After ascertaining that Steve was, in fact, serious, I got in touch with the Foundation for Paranormal Research (FPR) of Atlanta. Four of the group’s finest “ghostbusters” agreed to come out. What we witnessed on the night of the investigation surpasses earthly explanation.

I met Frank once, just days before his death. A resident of Los Angeles, California, Frank came to my hometown of Dalton, Georgia in late January of 2006 to spend time with Steve at Steve’s Dalton residence. I knew that he participated in the adult film industry – along with his wife, Vicky – and that the two sometimes stayed at Steve’s condominium. I also knew that Frank and Vicky were having marital problems.

He was polite but distracted. A tall man with dark hair pulled back in a short ponytail, Frank could not be still. His body was in constant motion and his eyes didn’t rest on any one object very long. When he shook my hand I knew instantly that there was something amiss. The energy around the guy was heavy and dark.

Steve wanted to help Frank through a rough patch. Vicky had left him and she wanted a divorce. Frank was obsessed with getting her back. According to several people who spent time with him during the days he was in Dalton, Frank was deeply depressed and potentially suicidal.

He was also in legal trouble. Turns out he had beat Vicky for three straight days before being arrested on January 3, 2006. He worried about a looming court date that could easily result in more jail time.

Steve likes to spend weekends at a resort he owns outside Dahlonega, Georgia. So when Friday rolled around he was ready to head for the hills and he invited Frank to accompany him. Frank bowed out, asking if he could instead visit the Hampton Way Condominium. His wish was granted.

After the weekend Steve drove from Dahlonega to Atlanta, hoping to catch up with Frank. Upon arrival he didn’t see Frank’s vehicle. Steve went inside to find a mess. Rock music blared from somewhere upstairs. Annoyed that Frank would not only leave a mess, but leave loud music playing, Steve mounted the stairs to silence the racket. He hoped his neighbors hadn’t been disturbed. At the top, Steve gasped aloud. Frank was there after all, but he was dead.

Frank’s naked body was slumped over the toilet inside the hall bathroom. His tongue lay in a pool of blood on the ceramic tile floor – He’d bitten it off. Police ruled the death a suicide. It appeared that, on January 31, Frank had injected a heroin-cocaine speedball into his bloodstream. Frank was cremated on February 2; his ashes scattered at a location significant to Frank and Vicky by Vicky and Steve.

Over the year that followed people visiting the condo reported strange goings-on. Loud disembodied footsteps were heard overhead by people downstairs. Pipes began to routinely burst at various sites around the dwelling for no apparent reason. Some reported the sensation of being watched.

Steve confessed to pausing outside the front door on one particular occasion, uncertain as to whether or not to go in. He said it was “silly” but he had a feeling he shouldn’t. No one was inside – in fact, most of the time no one ever is. When he inserted the key in the lock Steve heard loud noises on the other side of the door. He didn’t suspect there were intruders inside. Though he wasn’t ready to admit it yet, he believed it was Frank’s angry spirit. Steve didn’t stay at the condo that night.

On the eve of the morning Steve called me requesting “ghostbuster” intervention, David Holcomb kept bringing up Frank. He told Steve several times that he wanted to drive down to Dalton that night instead of waiting until morning. Steve dismissed his friend’s ramblings until David began yelling.

“Look at this!” David shouted.

A human-sized, man-shaped shadow began to form on the wall at the staircase. As the shadow developed, it took on more and more of Frank’s characteristics. Down to the ponytail.

“This is not possible,” Steve intoned as he diligently set about to reason away the anomaly.

For an estimated 15 minutes, the shadow remained. Then, shockingly, it slowly “turned around and walked away into the wall.”

Initially, Vicky was going to join the 2007 investigation. But she backed out earlier in the day, saying her fiancée didn’t approve. I spoke with her by telephone.

“Do you believe it’s possible that Frank has somehow returned to the condo?” I asked her.

“Yeah, definitely,” Vicky answered. “If anyone would come back it would be him.”

“Tell me about him,” I said.

“He was a tough person – tough as nails,” she shared. “He had a tough life, a hard life. He was afraid of nothing. He was an angry person… He had a good side – we were married 17 years, together 18. He was extremely intelligent, complicated. He had a lot of problems he never dealt with.”

Vicky told me she’d had a psychic visit her house in Los Angeles to bless it. She stated that if Frank was still hanging around the earthly realm that she’d like to have him “go to the light or whatever.”

“I still love this person a lot,” she said. “My ultimate goal – my only interest in all this – is for him to be at peace and at rest. Frank had a lot of anger and a lot of love. He was like a stray dog. He was really, really good and really, really mean.”

FPR were given little detail prior to their arrival. They only knew that a suicide had occurred and that the owner claimed possible paranormal activity.

“I wanted to throw up when I saw this place,” FPR’s Ken Sumner said. “I don’t care what anyone says happened. Someone was killed here.”

Ken claimed to have had a vision the previous night. I was skeptical. Then he handed me a drawing. Ken – who had never before visited the condo – had accurately sketched the downstairs layout, down to furniture placement.

Ken, who says he’s psychic, told us Frank was furious that Vicky was getting married and wanted to pull her back and physically beat her to say “You’re mine.”

“He wants to confront her,” Ken said. “He says what is going on here is not our business. Anger keeps him here. He knows he screwed up and he knows he can’t kill her. He’s angry at that.”

At one point during the investigation Ken and FPR’s Beverly Greenfield called everyone upstairs to a bedroom Frank sometimes slept in. Ken said he and Beverly had made contact with Frank through a combination television-VHS player. The two had been watching the VHS tape that was playing at the time Steve found Frank dead. It hadn’t been a stereo producing the loud music, but a VHS tape on which Frank had recorded a segment of the video game “Grand Theft Auto.” Apparently, he liked the game music and used the VHS to listen to it.

Contact was made after the recording stopped and static filled the screen. Ken asked Frank to use the television to answer “yes” and “no” questions. Amazingly, a solid, thin line would appear on the screen two times for “yes” and one time for “no,” as Ken instructed. The lines never appeared when questions weren’t being asked. I cannot tell you how this occurred but I can tell you that it did.

When Steve asked certain questions – like was Frank alone the night he died – the lines flashed rapidly and were thicker, as if the answers were being emphasized.

Based on responses gained during the television-VHS communication, “Frank” did not wish to move on. The very moment after Steve said “goodbye” to Frank, the VHS tape ejected itself and shot across the room.

The next day I watched the VHS tape from beginning to end, paying close attention to the static following Frank’s recording of “Grand Theft Auto.” At no time did any line – thin, thick, or otherwise – flash across the screen. There was only static.

Several of us left the investigation wondering if foul play had occurred and if there was more to Frank’s alleged suicide than first met the eye. Years rolled by and I thought of Frank from time to time – particularly on those rare occasions I crashed at the condo. Occasionally my kids and I stayed there over weekends when we wanted to do things in Atlanta. The heaviness remained but nothing supernatural ever occurred while we were there.

One night, in the fall of 2014, I woke suddenly and instinctively knew to look at the tall mirror beside my bed. My heart nearly stopped as I saw a man with dark hair watching me from behind what appeared to be bars. I could see his eyes blinking beneath long lashes. I watched for a minute before he gently faded to nothingness. Though freaked out, I didn’t feel particularly threatened.

It wasn’t until a few days later that I made a possible connection to Frank. After the investigation with FPR, I took Frank’s VHS home with me. It stood sandwiched between books on a shelf attached to the mirror in my bedroom. The same mirror I saw the dark-haired, blinking man in. Had Frank appeared to me as he had to Steve and David years before? Is there an attachment to the VHS tape that had provided background music for Frank’s death? These are questions that haunt me.

I love the girls of Archer Paranormal Investigations, or API. Comprised of two brilliant attorneys (Jennifer Spear and Lesia Schnur) and a psychic flight attendant (Lisa Shackelford), they are methodical and thorough in their pursuit of shining light on the mysteries of the night. I have been a guest on their popular paranormal radio show and they’ve been guests at my ghost tour. While speaking on the phone with Jennifer in January of 2015 we brainstormed possible haunted locations we could all visit together. I blurted out that I knew of a place in their neck of the woods. While I shared details of Frank’s death and FPR’s investigation, Jennifer searched the net.

“You do realize, don’t you, that this upcoming weekend marks the 9-year anniversary of Frank’s death?” Jennifer asked me. I had not.

On January 30, 2015 – the eve of said anniversary – I returned to Steve’s condo with Jennifer, Lisa, and Lesia. I brought the VHS tape and we slid it into the same television set Frank had popped it into nearly a decade earlier. Once again, and in the same way, intelligent communication occurred. Additionally, a male voice readily and clearly spoke to us by way of Jennifer’s Spirit Box SB17 and pink speaker. Much evidence was collected. Though “Frank” still doesn’t want to move on, the girls and I would like to see that happen in the near future.

We’ll likely never learn what happened the night Frank died, but it seems that Frank still has a lot to say about it.

Connie Hall-Scott is the author of “Haunted Dalton, Georgia” (History Press, 2013) and the operator of Dalton Ghost Tours.