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When the Ghost Screams(46)

By:Leslie Rule


If you are easily frightened and you plan to drive over the Ravenel Bridge, maybe it is best to keep your eyes on the road.





“Help Me!”


No one knows the nooks and crannies of the Dundas District Public School better than the custodians. Built in 1929, the Hamilton, Ontario, school is spick-and-span—thanks to the hard-working staff and a ghost or two.

In the 1950s, five caretakers made a pact. Whoever was the first to die would return to haunt the others. Russell, the custodian who suggested the pact, was a perfectionist in charge of the third floor. He kept it spotless.

He eventually died and has apparently kept his word.

An employee who started work long after Russell’s demise was assigned the third floor. One night, he got his bucket of soapy water ready and then decided to go to supper. He returned to find that the floor had been washed. “Russell did it!” his fellow employees insisted.

The same employee also saw the apparition of a tall man with a big smile. He appeared on the third floor, accompanied by the sound of jingling keys. It was most likely the ghost of Russell.

But what about the others?

Who are the five spirits seen on the back stairs? And who paces endlessly during the night? Most disturbing, who is the old woman?

Two custodians were preparing to leave one evening when they were chilled to the bone at the sound of an old woman’s voice calling from the top of a staircase. “Help me,” the voice cried.

It is one thing to have the spirit of a helpful cleaner in your midst; it is another when it is a mysterious old woman calling pitifully.

Perhaps she was a victim of the 1934 train wreck. The dead victims, locals say, were brought to the school, which was turned into a makeshift morgue.

The Christmas Day excursion train was filled with folks celebrating the joy of the season. Three hundred and ninety-seven passengers were returning to Toronto when the train was signaled to go onto a side rail so that another train could pass in Dundas.

The Maple Leaf, a Chicago to Montreal train, roared full speed into town. Its signal was green, an indication that the tracks were clear. Unfortunately, something went wrong with the switch, and the Maple Leaf torpedoed into the back of the excursion train. It telescoped into the last two wooden cars filled with people, killing most of them instantly.

At the horrendous sound of the crash, Dundas residents came running to help. They went into action, pulling the injured from the train, and ferrying them to the hospital. But work was slow because of the darkness.

The Christmas presents strewn about the track were a grim reminder of what the day was supposed to be. Rescuers tried not to think of the children who would never get to play with the toys that littered the ground.

The next day, newspaper headlines screamed that fifteen were dead. Thirteen were passengers and two were porters, all from the excursion train. Everyone aboard the Maple Leaf survived.

The accident was near the Dundas school, and its basement was quickly utilized as a morgue.

If time stands still for the dead, do those who wander the school think it is still Christmas Day 1934?





Spirits from the Sky


It was a black night in December 1972 when a jumbo jet took off from the John F. Kennedy International Airport in New York with 176 people on board. They thought they were destined for Miami, Florida, but instead they were destined for doom.

One hundred and one human beings would make a date with the Grim Reaper before midnight.

Captain Bob Loft and second officer Don Repo were family men and experienced pilots who did not take the safety of their passengers lightly.

The massive Lockheed L-1011 had served Eastern Air Lines for four months. Pilots and passengers marveled at the spacious luxury plane, with a tail that rose six stories high and a length that nearly spanned a football field.

The jet, however, had a few bugs that had yet to be explained to the pilots.

As Flight 401 approached Miami, the crew was blindsided by an unfortunate string of events. It began with a faulty warning light and culminated with mismatched readings of the altitude on the pilots’ dual indicators. As the jet cruised on automatic pilot set to two thousand feet, one of the crew attempted to change a stuck light bulb. As he fiddled with it, the sensitive instrument panel was apparently jarred, and the autopilot became disengaged.

Despite the fact that the plane began to descend, the information was not accurately conveyed. As the jet dipped toward the earth, the utter darkness below offered no clue. The marshy Florida Everglades, swarming with gators and snakes, was cloaked in the shadow of night.

When Don Repo left the cockpit to check a potential problem with the landing gear, Captain Loft’s indicator falsely assured him that the plane was high in the sky. He could not see the ground rushing toward them.