Special Feature of the Day: Each year for Halloween at my husband's school, Lenoir-Rhyne University, there is "campus ghost tour" during which the guides share local folklore, campus legends, and creepy stories. Thanks to the generosity of the good people at Lenoir-Rhyne, I now have all of those spooky tales to share with you. I have taken pictures around the campus to illustrate the stories, so that I may lead you through the tour virtually.
Without further ado, I would like to invite you to join me for a virtual "campus ghost tour" of Lenoir-Rhyne.
Ghost Tour Introduction: Most of the buildings on the Lenoir-Rhyne campus have acquired a ghost, gremlin, spirit, or legend that has lingered from year to year. Some of the legends have been exaggerated or miscommunicated through the years. The ghosts and spirits that you’ll learn about now are as official, as documented, as close to recollection as possible. Most of the ghosts that you'll read about have been witnessed either by security officers, students, alumni, or others who visit the university. The older spirits, say from 1979 or before, have been included in the oral history of Lenoir-Rhyne College, Traces, which is available by special permission from the archives in the university library. Throughout the years, several articles in the college paper have accounted for the ghosts in our buildings, and the local newspapers have even run stories about them.
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Today's Spooky Text of the Day: Today's wonderfully eerie story is "The Singular Death of Morton" by Algernon Blackwood (1869-1951).
Then, suddenly, as they had turned to go, after much vain shouting and knocking at the door, a face appeared for an instant at a window, the shutter of which was half open. His friend saw it first, and called aloud. The face nodded in reply, and presently a young girl came round the corner of the house, apparently by a back door, and stood staring at them both from a little distance.
And from that very instant, so far as he could remember, these queer feelings had entered his heart-fear, distrust, misgiving. The thought of it now, as he lay in bed in the darkness, made his hair rise. There was something about that girl that struck cold into the soul. Yet she was a mere slip of a thing, very pretty, seductive even, with a certain serpent-like fascination about her eyes and movements; and although she only replied to their questions as to refreshment with a smile, uttering no single word, she managed to convey the impression that she was a managing little person who might make herself very disagreeable if she chose. In spite of her undeniable charm there was about her an atmosphere of something sinister. He himself did most of the questioning, but it was his older friend who had the benefit of her smile. Her eyes hardly ever left his face, and once she had slipped quite close to him and touched his arm.
The strange part of it now seemed to him that he could not remember in the least how she was dressed, or what was the colouring of her eyes and hair. It was almost as though he had felt, rather than seen, her presence.
Read the complete story here.