Chris Linden, co-editor-in-chief
Carol Colby, features editor
3:16 a.m., and all is quiet. Most of the 45 women who sleep in the dormers rest peacefully in their beds, drowning among layers of bright pinks, greens and yellows. The room is pitch black, save for the pale light shimmering through the small window at the end of the room. The occasional snort or wheeze is the only interruption breaking the dead silence. Sophomores Amy Ackerman and Brynn Traughber are fast asleep, exhausted after a long day of school. Although lately they have slept uneasily, tonight is a rare respite. Their twin beds are pushed together in the corner of the old dormer, far away from the light.
The silence is broken as the mattress begins violently shaking, as if someone is ripping it from the frame. Both girls snap awake and turn around to look at each other, reassuring themselves this isn?t a dream. It can?t be.
This wasn?t the first time they had experienced something unusual. Several nights since September, always at the same time?3:16 a.m.?the girls would awake to find the bed violently shaking, without explanation. And the cold?the air was so frigid it chilled the bones. ?We could wake up and see our breaths,? Ackerman said. ?They always have the air conditioner running, but we could definitely tell the difference. When it happened, it was freezing. You could touch your face and your hand would feel like it was frozen.? One time, Ackerman was awakened from a deep sleep and saw what appeared to be an orb of light, like a single flame, hanging above her head. Their sisters claim to have experienced similar phenomena in the same location, and an apparition that hovers over the women?s beds while they sleep. Though skeptical before her encounter, and still silenced by other roommates who fear the stories may be true, Ackerman says she is a skeptic no longer. ?I didn?t believe in this stuff at all,? she said. ?I thought it was all made up, and just completely false. But Brynn and I couldn?t sleep at night; we knew what we saw.?
Traughber says she has seen ghostly apparitions before, but she is still uneasy about her experience in the old dormer. ?I?ve never seen anything like people there, but I still know it?s there,? she said. ?I have no idea why this person is bothering me. I still sleep with a blanket over my head.?
Many a story has been told of ghosts haunting Greek houses, residence halls and academic buildings, and while not every location on campus can boast a ghost story, many can. Whether you?re a believer or a skeptic, it?s difficult to avoid letting curiosity get the better of you. Does a spirit still run the elevated track of the Old Gym? Do spirits still linger in Greenwood Cemetery? There?s only one way to find out?an old-fashioned ghost hunt. But it may not be so easy, for reality remains in the eye of the beholder.
Tools of the trade
Whether frightening or just plain fun, ghost stories have the power of drawing people together through a shared history. As stories of heartbreak and mystery pass from generation to generation, those who believe and those who simply enjoy a good tale continue to pass on the legends. For theatre professor Denise Myers, the legend of ?rail girl,? a mischievous ghost that haunts Albert Taylor Theatre, brings her students together and excites their overactive imaginations. Since joining the department in 1991, Myers has witnessed strange occurrences that she and others blame on the ghost. Whenever lighting cues fail or lost items are returned, somebody blames the ?rail girl.? Before each show, the stage manager leaves bowls of candy to appease the spirit and avoid any complications during the show. ?I think half of the legend is in fun,? Myers said. ?I don?t really believe in superstitions, but I follow the customs anyway.?
But just the same as there are skeptics, there are believers. Adam White and C.J. Williams, co-founders of New Age Paranormal Research in Decatur, strive to understand paranormal activities and why they occur. Both men say they have personally experienced paranormal activities, but remain cautious when investigating potential hauntings around Central Illinois. ?When we investigate a business or home, we aren?t looking for a haunting; we?re looking to debunk it,? White said. ?If we?re unable to do that, we assume we have a real haunting on our hands.?
White and Williams use several simple tools to investigate paranormal activity, including video cameras, electro-magnetic field readers and laser pointers.
Whenever they investigate a site, they never know what they might find. ?We look for anything that?s out of the ordinary,? Williams said. ?Sometimes you?ll catch something that looks like mist or fog on the camera. Other times we?ll hear something, like feet coming down a stairwell, when no one else is on the premises.?
We knew the legends about the ghosts of the Old Gym, Aston Hall and Greenwood Cemetery, but we had to find out for ourselves whether these stories were fact or fiction. Armed with tape recorders, cameras and a child-like excitement, we searched for any unexplainable mysteries.
Lights out: The legend of the Old Gym
For decades, students have recounted strange tales of paranormal activity in the Old Gym. Legend holds that the gym sits on the site of a small lake, fed by natural spring, that was an original part of the park where the university was built. When construction began on the gym, workers drained the lake into Fairview Park, but because it was fed by a natural spring, the lake and its drainage creek were both forced underground. Water holds energy and symbolizes life, so it?s possible that spirits are drawn to the gym because of this underground source, White said.
According to the story, students working late nights in the gym have heard someone running on the track?a near impossibility because today, it is littered with hundreds of dusty props for the Department of Theatre and Dance. The legend also holds that students and faculty have heard basketballs bouncing, a woman crying and the faint sound of crowds cheering.
Armed with the simple tools of an amateur ghost hunter, we set out in search of the gym?s spectral presences. Most of the stories purport that paranormal activity most often takes place at night. Because there is less human activity and fewer mistakable shadows, night provides a better environment for witnessing paranormal events, White said. We enter the building around 10:30 p.m. on a Saturday night?by no means the witching hour, but late enough that human activity is sufficiently calm. Only three hunters enter the building: me, Carol, and my buddy Dave, an aficionado at finding his way into prohibitive locations.
We spend the first 20 minutes or so exploring the building. White told us that before hunting, it?s best to study the building to find any potential sources of disturbance, like creaky spots on the floor, natural drafts and shadows from trees or other items. The building is old and settled. Although still used as a props shop and storage space for theatre set pieces, a thick layer of dust covers everything. As we slowly tread across the elevated track, winding our way around piles of mirrors, signs and furniture, it appears our footsteps are the first on this spot in a long time. When we turn around, we can see the spots where our tennis shoes disturbed the dust and where our hands swiped it off the protective railing.
With each step we take, the floorboards groan. Fluorescent lamps hang from the wooden-beamed ceiling, haphazardly fitted, some still protected by rusty wire baskets. The glass skylight has long ago been painted over, and long, winding cracks slowly eat the panes away. The gym floor has largely been painted over by theatre projects, which clutter every available space. The dim hum of fluorescent lights is the only sound we hear, save for the groans of each footstep. We hear scattered voices, a motorcycle, a train.
At some point, we find the breaker switch and turn off the lights on the court. Darkness, except for the faint light which streams through the windows in the adjacent office and the glow-in-the-dark tape affixed to the scenery. Then we wait for something to happen. In the silence, we hear the customary sounds of a building settling in. Pipes creak, boards settle, and the fluorescent light outside hums persistently.
Dave has settled into a sofa across the room and is taking everything in. Carol and I sit on some dark scenery, recording every sight, sound, smell and touch like a hawk. Any time now, something could happen.
We later hear the faint echoes of an excited conversation. It sounds like a man and a woman, talking eagerly and laughing constantly. It?s so faint that we can?t be sure where it?s coming from. One of the legends of this space holds that a theatre professor was working in her office when she heard the mournful wails of a young woman. Concerned, she followed the sound downstairs to the basketball court. Though she could not see anyone, she still heard the pained sobbing. She stumbled through the darkness to the light switch, and when she turned it on, there was nobody in the room.
The suspense wears off. We work up the nerve to ask the spirits some questions, hoping that we could hear something on the tape recorder. Provoking spirits, White said, is a good way to experience paranormal activities.
I stand up and grip the recorder in my hand, my palms sweating.
?Is there anybody here who would like to talk to us??
Silence.
?Why are you still here??
More silence.
Then Dave pitches in: ?If you?re there, show us a sign.?
A pipe somewhere in the building settles. We aren?t satisfied.
?Show us another sign,? Dave chides. No response.
?Now you?re just pushing it,? I mutter.
Minutes later, the temperature in the room drops radically. Dave and I had worn coats around the building all night, and felt fairly warm. Now we can feel chills through our spines. ?Do you feel like it?s getting colder in here?? he asks.
?Yeah, it is getting colder,? I reply. ?And now I?m getting the chills.?
It seems this is all a matter of perception, though. Carol feels no change in temperature, and from the sound of her voice, she?s getting frustrated. ?I don?t feel anything at all,? she says. ?This sucks.?
Whispers in the graveyard: Exploring Greenwood Cemetery
I stepped out of my car one bright, sunny Saturday afternoon, pressing my feet against the winding, narrow road. I looked around as a cool breeze blew through the air, rustling the dead leaves still hanging off the huge, twisted oak trees that loomed from all angles. The atmosphere was calm and peaceful, almost relaxing enough to make me forget where I was. Surrounded by haphazard plots of tombstones in Greenwood Cemetery, I was following legends of ghost stories and sightings that span the two centuries since Decatur?s founding. Greenwood?s new owner closes the cemetery at sunset, probably to discourage the drunken antics of teenagers and the poorly laid plans of amateur ghost hunters like myself.
Though Greenwood has undergone local efforts to clean and update the gravestones, the cemetery is undeniably old. Stones with death dates as early as 1811 pitched forward, almost touching the ground. Some inscriptions had nearly worn away from decades of harsh weather. They were legible only when I ran my fingers across them to make out the letters, being careful not to disturb the crumbling stone and moss.
I found many of the spots that are, according to local legend, the most haunted in the cemetery, perhaps even in the city. I brought my car to a halt in front of the Barrackman staircase, five worn stone steps leading up a small, grassy hill. In the grass above the last step are the Barrackman?s four grave markers, barely visible in the tangled weeds and dead leaves. Troy Taylor, a local ghost hunter who has written dozens of books on ghost stories in Illinois, records eyewitness accounts of a transparent woman who sits on the steps, weeping silently. ?She always inexplicably vanishes as the sun dips below the horizon,? Taylor writes in ?Haunted Decatur.? ?She has never been seen in the daylight hours and never after dark?only at sunset.? It?s easy to imagine the woman in her flowing dress, visiting the same forlorn area every evening.
Our next stop was the Civil War memorial site, located on an incredibly steep hill on the south side of the cemetery. I ignored what little dignity I had and crab-walked up, berating myself for ever using gravestones as footholds. The location was beautiful; with a breathtaking view and the statue of an angel with a gentle smile on her face, arms spread wide over the soldiers? graves, many of which read, ?Unknown soldier.? The memorial is home to another famous Greenwood tale. According to ?Haunted Decatur: Revisited,? a train of imprisoned Confederate soldiers in 1863 were on the Illinois Central Railroad, which traveled through Decatur to Camp Douglas, a prison facility near Chicago. The majority of the Confederates contracted yellow fever in their cramped train cars and died during their journey. Their bodies were removed from the train, stacked in piles at the base of the hill and buried in a mass grave. But gravediggers couldn?t differentiate between the dead and those who were horribly ill, but still living. The legend speculates that some of these soldiers may have been buried alive. When a mudslide exposed several of the bodies years later, the remains that were uncovered were moved to the memorial at the top of the hill, a site originally intended for Union soldiers. Ghost hunters like Taylor believe the disturbance of the bodies created negative energy, making it susceptible for ghost sightings.
Though I found no documented records of the Confederate soldiers? mass burial, the story is frequently cited as a factual event by ghost hunters, cemetery workers and the Herald & Review.
After shuffling back down the steep hill and into the car, I drove through the winding roads, searching for ?devil?s chairs.? Greenwood boasts several chairs, steeped in demonic lore. A common tale states that the person who sits in the chair makes a deal with the devil to have three years of good luck before dying. Another story says the person who sits in the chair will die within the year, and almost everyone seems to have heard of some poor soul who made that mistake. However, it is a greater possibility that these chairs were put in place so that mourners could sit by the graves of their loved ones. The chairs I saw were designed to look like they had been carved from tree trunks, blending in among the stately old oak trees standing over the old stones. Though far from frightening, I still didn?t dare sit down?just in case.
The ghost hunting experience concluded without any sightings or fearful, uncomfortable feelings. In daylight, Greenwood is fascinating not for its ghosts, but for its long history and famous residents. Whether or not ghosts truly exist, the legends of haunted Decatur will live on. As long as students explore haunted spaces and experience inexplicable phenomena, they will share their stories of the curious and the macabre with anyone who shares an interest in the paranormal. Though such experiences challenge our perception of reality, they remain powerful in our imaginations.
http://www.thedeconline.com/article.php?id=302
