by Ian Gibbs
In the gardens, altars have been placed where there used to be a playground for the students at the academy, now long since removed. Children’s laughter has been heard in that area, so perhaps some of the students, even though they are long gone, return to play there with their school friends. Even today, custodians who work in the building after all of the officer workers have gone home have reported hearing the sound of large choirs of female voices, which seem to come from the empty chapel.
It would seem that although this building no longer serves its original purpose, it still holds true to those who built it and lived there.
HOME ON FORT STREET
WHENEVER SOMEONE ASKS me to help with a spiritual predicament in their home, I never know what to expect. I always wonder if perhaps this will be it: this will be the time I don’t experience anything and am unable to help. I worry that perhaps I’ve reached my full potential and maybe I wasn’t very good at this type of thing in the first place. Most troubling can be the aspect of the unknown. I’m really not that brave, to be honest, and so the thought of running into something genuinely scary or evil is a bit daunting. However, whenever I go into these situations, I go with an open mind and an honest heart, and a desire to truly help someone live with something they may not understand.
In 2014, a friend of mine, Tani, moved into a new apartment. She had left her relationship, and while she was excited about her new life, she was also in need of a safe place to heal. The apartment she moved into was in the back of an old house on Fort Street. Tani and I had discussed spiritual matters before, so she knew that I have some ability or sensitivity to things that aren’t seen. She had been experiencing some things that had left her a bit shaken—not scared necessarily, but certainly wanting to know more. She asked me if I would come by and check the place out. I walked over to her house on a warm summer evening, and as I approached the home I prepared myself to keep my spiritual ears open.
Tani had told me she had heard noises, things had moved, toilets had flushed, and lights had turned on and off. In addition, the spirit had showed some cognitive awareness because she had heard it call her name a few times. All of these signs are typical markers of a basic haunting.
I walked into the small, well-kept apartment, and immediately felt some kind of presence. I moved farther into the apartment and sat down in the living room. Tani poured tea and we began chatting. I had been wearing a cap that day, which is unusual for me, but seeing no reason to change before I went to Tani’s, I kept it on. As we discussed the apartment, I suddenly got a very strong sense that I should take off my cap. I looked at Tani and said, “That’s got to go.” As I removed my cap, Tani looked at me with some surprise and said she didn’t mind. I smiled and replied, “You don’t, but he does.”
The picture that had formed in my mind was of a man dressed in uniform. I wasn’t sure from what era, but it was clear that he was a soldier and felt things should be done a certain way. One of those ways was that you did not wear a hat inside the house. In my head, I could see him standing in the kitchen with his arms behind his back and his hands clasped. I explained this to Tani, and she said, “So, you mean at ease?” It hadn’t occurred to me, but it made perfect sense and was exactly what I meant. The soldier was standing at ease.
Some of the things that had been happening in her home she couldn’t explain. She had heard her toilet flush in the middle of the night. I went and checked it out. It was a new toilet that was very difficult to flush by mistake. It was also on the other side of the apartment; there was no way the sound could have come from a toilet flushing in one of the other three apartments in the house. One time, Tani said, while in the bath—a very deep, old-fashioned bath, which happened to be original to the home—she was about to fall asleep and slide down in the tub. Someone cleared their throat with an “Uh HUM” noise right beside her ear, which woke her up just before she slipped under the water.
Tani felt that whoever was there was benevolent and she did not feel threatened by it, but she was curious. One time she was woken in the middle of the night by a man’s voice calling her name; it was soft, but distinct and persistent. At times she would be in bed reading when she would see movement out of the corner of her eye, but when she looked, there would be nothing there. One evening she turned off the light to go to sleep and distinctly heard the tap of a fork or spoon on a champagne flute right beside her ear. Other strange occurrences include an incident one evening when Tani was relaxing, reading a book on her couch. She had lit three candles in tall glass jars. The flames were shielded from the air; in fact, all of the windows were closed, and radiators heat the home. That didn’t seem to stop one of the flames, and only one, from going crazy in the glass container while the other two remained still. Tani noticed it, put down her book, and said, “Stop that.” The flame immediately stilled. After waiting for a few moments she said, “Okay, go ahead.” The single flame began dancing yet again. On other occasions, her legs would go icy cold while the rest of her remained the same temperature. Tani had also heard her door close softly when no one else was in the room.
The impression I got from the soldier was that he approved of her. He liked her and trusted her and was glad she was in the house. I didn’t want to upset Tani, but I also felt that perhaps he was protecting her from something else that might be in the house. I did mention that to her at the time, but with the very strong provision that I could be wrong and I didn’t know for sure.
Once we felt that he had left us, we quickly got on the computer and typed in “military uniforms World War I and World War II.” We got examples of both and soon realized that what I had seen would have been a uniform from the First World War. Tani wanted to know why he would still be in her house, why he had not moved on. I got the strong impression that he had died unexpectedly in the home. No one had anticipated his death, including him, but he liked being there. He felt comfortable, and he saw no reason to leave.
After a time, Tani became curious and wanted to know this soldier’s name. For three nights, before she went to sleep, she would say out loud, “What’s your name?” On the third night, she had just settled down and turned off the light, when she learned his name. Tani said when she closed her eyes that she saw nothing but green at first, and then words appeared on the green before fading away. She saw the words my name is appear individually, and then letters began to appear on the green, C, H, R, I. At this point, she said out loud, “Christopher?” With that, the next letter didn’t appear but a single word did: “Yes.”
I asked Tani to do some research on the house and to speak with the landlady to see if there was any link to what I had felt or sensed with some historical facts. I saw her again the following Monday and she was very excited. After talking to the landlady, she learned that the house had been a convalescent home for soldiers during the First and Second World Wars. The soldiers would have stayed there before ultimately being sent home. This fact was confirmed by an old newspaper article that Tani found while searching online for more information about the house. The landlady was very interested to hear what Tani had experienced as she too had experienced a presence in the house. Unlike Tani, the landlady spoke of a disapproving woman who was a frequent visitor and was most likely one of the original owners. This disapproving entity came to check on and, presumably, disapprove of the landlady quite often. While Tani had never sensed this disapproving woman, it now made sense to her why the soldier had communicated that he was there to help protect her.
At first everything was great for Tani in her apartment. But eventually things began to change. She came to me a few weeks after our initial meeting at her apartment. She mentioned that something odd had happened at her home and asked if I would be able to explain it. She said she’d been at home cleaning the living room and bedroom when she smelled something strange. She went into the kitchen and found that all of the burners on the stove had been turned to maximum, except the one that held a copper kettle. It was off. This stove was an older model,
and everything about it was manual. I immediately thought that this might be some kind of warning, but of what? I asked Tani if she was doing anything different. She looked uncomfortable, but said no. I asked her if she thought it might be a warning of some kind. She didn’t seem to think so. I was stumped. That was really the only thing that I had felt when she had told me about the burners. I thought it was a warning as the ghost had left the kettle alone. My interpretation was that turning on the burners wasn’t about harming Tani— it was simply designed to get her attention. I suggested she perhaps ask the soldier if there was something upsetting him.
A few weeks later she told me that she had met a new guy and he was actually staying with her on a pretty frequent basis. I looked at her and asked he if stayed for the first time before or after the stove burners turned on? She looked sheepish and replied that the incident occurred the morning after her new friend had stayed over for the first time. I think we figured out what the warning was about. The new man in her life eventually moved in and Tani received one more message from the ghost. This time the only burner that was turned to maximum was the burner holding the copper kettle. All of the other burners were off. Thankfully the kettle still had water in it so it hadn’t boiled dry, but it was close. This seemed to be the ghost sending another message. Was he jealous? Did he not approve of her new guy? Did he not approve of having “gentleman callers” stay over? Perhaps it was the disapproving woman’s spirit who felt so strongly about the matter that she was able to push past Christopher and make her point. Either way, while Christopher still made his presence known to Tani from time to time, and she still found his company soothing, he never did anything when her new friend, now husband, was around.
Tani has since moved out of the apartment, but not for the reason you might think. She lived there quite peacefully, even with the presence of spirits. But after she met her new love, they bought a house together. While I know that she didn’t mind having the spirit in her apartment, she hopes her new home will only house the living. Time will tell . . .
THE YOUNG BUILDING—CAMOSUN COLLEGE
THE YOUNG BUILDING, which is part of the Lansdowne Campus of Camosun College, has, like many other buildings in Victoria, had a varied life. It opened in 1914 as the Victoria Normal School (an old-fashioned term for a teachers’ college), the first of its kind in town. In the 1940s, it was turned into a military hospital, complete with an operating theatre and a morgue. After the war was over, it reverted back to being a school and included a new institution called Victoria College, which shared the building. In 1971, it became the first building of the newly created Camosun College.
There have long been multiple stories about the Young Building that involve strange goings-on. Students, instructors, and even security staff and custodians—the standard and most reliable sources of ghost stories for large public buildings—have reported these happenings.
When I first moved to Victoria, I took a few evening classes in the Young Building. I hadn’t heard anything about the building, but I know what I felt. My classes were on the third floor and while I didn’t enjoy climbing those stairs at six pm, I dreaded going down them even more at nine pm. Going up the stairs felt like moving through a mist or fog, but it felt even more threatening a few hours later when I had to leave. I actually forgot about those sensations over the years, but when I returned to the Young Building recently as part of my research for this book, I experienced the same feelings again all these years later. I expected that the bottom floor would be the most active, and indeed there is activity there, but for the most part, the third floor holds the most active energy and the most troublesome or helpful (depending on their moods, I suppose) spirits.
Our first story comes from security guard Christine Crawley. Christine worked at the Young Building for fifteen years. She is not a woman prone to flights of fancy; her matter-of-fact demeanour backs that up. While Christine was happy to share her experiences, she was certainly quick to point out that while strange things happen, most can be explained. Some, however, cannot. There was more than one time when Christine felt uncomfortable at the college, and there are certain areas where she didn’t linger, places where she would do her required check-ins and exit quickly. One time while guarding the building, she heard voices and thumping in the elevator. Thinking quickly, she called the elevator down to where she was and stepped back, expecting to deal with at least a couple of people who had no business being in the building. As the elevator came closer, the voices and thumping grew louder. Christine prepared herself. Right up until the moment the elevator doors opened, the noises continued to get louder. The second the doors parted, the elevator fell silent—it was empty. Christine could not explain that.
One experience in particular forced Christine to be a little more open minded about paranormal activities. It happened when she was training a new security guard. The young woman was very interested in seeing the roof and the clock tower on the Young Building. Christine wasn’t thrilled about going up there as she knew it was under construction and the handrails had been taken down, but the young guard was so excited about seeing it that Christine agreed to take her up, giving her many warnings and reminders to be extra careful and cautious as they ascended the ladder to the tower.
Christine went first and climbed onto the roof. As she took her first step, she felt her foot slip and she began to fall forward, right off the roof. Just as she was about to tumble off, she felt a hand grab her jacket and pull her back from falling head first down the roof. As she stood panting, she turned to thank the young guard, assuming it was her who had steadied her. When she looked back, she realized that the other woman was still on the ladder and hadn’t actually made it out of the roof hatch yet. Severely spooked, Christine told the young woman they were going right back down, but as she descended the ladder, Christine turned back and said to the air over the roof, “Thanks, Casper,” before she closed the hatch behind her. At the best of times, Christine had an uncomfortable relationship with the unseen residents of the Young Building, but she had to admit that at least once, they definitely did more good than harm.
Lisa, an instructor who has been at the college for over fifteen years, told me one of the most unique stories I’ve ever heard. It was early in the morning and she was just coming into her office. Nothing seemed amiss or creepy. It was a regular winter morning, so it was still dark outside at that hour. As she walked down the hall, she saw her friend, who also worked in the building, in the reflection of the glass doors at the end of the hall. He was creeping comically up behind her, with his arms up and lifting his legs melodramatically, like a vampire in a silent movie. Lisa laughed and stopped. She put her hands on her hips and said, “I can totally see you!” As she stood there waiting for him to catch up, she didn’t turn around. She kept watching his reflection. He was just about to reach her, when, as Lisa described, “It was like he was a water-colour painting and someone had just poured a glass of water on him. He just melted right in front of me.” Of course, when this happened, she spun around to see, but no one was there. She spun back around to look at the reflection, but nothing was there either. Nothing like that has ever happened again, but it troubled her. How did whatever was in the hall with her mimic her friend? Was it being funny to make her laugh, or was it a deliberate attempt to fool her into lowering her guard?
Ed Sum was a student at the college in 2008. Ed had always been interested in ghosts and the paranormal. Soon after starting at Camosun, he began hearing stories about the Young Building. While Ed believes in ghosts, he focuses on proof of their existence, not feelings or hunches. He wants to see and hear things, and even more importantly, he wants to record the experience. He was working as a reporter for the Camosun newspaper at the time and got permission to investigate the tales he’d heard about the building with a paranormal group he was part of. Some said that the third floor was very unsettled, particularly the bathrooms, but other parts of the building were unsettled too. In the old auditorium, th
e piano could be heard playing on its own. The changing room on the bottom floor was originally used as a morgue, and several people had mentioned feeling uncomfortable down there.
When Ed brought in the paranormal investigators, they experienced a number of interesting occurrences. One of the most irrefutable pieces of evidence they gathered was a recording. Investigative groups use voice recorders in an attempt to catch electronic voice phenomena, or EVPs. These occur because spirit voices seem to be able to be caught on voice recorders rather than by human ears. One of the investigators asked the room, “What time is it?” When they played the tape back later to review for possible evidence, the answer was there. But it wasn’t a voice that belonged to any of the investigators. “Eleven,” it said. The time was exactly eleven pm.
This EVP was definitely not a one-off. When the Camosun College radio station was on air, they often had difficulty recording announcements and commercials. The recordings would be repeatedly polluted with voices, whispering, and chatter. These background voices were definitely audible, but no one could tell what they said. The same problem happened when people attempted to do voice-overs for student video projects; repeated takes had to be made as mysterious voices kept showing up on the recordings.
It wasn’t just voices that made themselves known. The photography students talked about one of the darkrooms and the way it was set up, with stations where each student could do their work. There was always one station where the focusing magnifier would go missing. The poor student would then go in search of it. When the student finally gave up the search and returned to their station, the missing piece of equipment would always be there, waiting for them.