Robb Murray
MANKATO — Our investigation begins at the ghostly ground zero, the supposedly haunted hallways of a co-ed dorm at Minnesota State University.
It is a cold Monday morning in late October and all the leaves of the trees surrounding McElroy Hall have mysteriously, inexplicably fled from the trees — (OK, maybe there’s nothing at all mysterious about leaves “fleeing” trees in October, but we’re setting a mood here, people, work with us) — leaving only scraggly, bare branches, eerily reminiscent of the bony fingers of a witch who, at any point, could reach into the dorm room window of a young freshman and pluck her from her cozy bed, never to be seen again, only spoken of in hushed voices in dark stairwells.
But we digress.
In the hallway of the surprisingly well-lit third floor, students returning from class or lunch — students who every day walk, legend has it, amid the dreaded ghost of McElroy Hall — merely offer a look of horror when asked if they’ve ever heard of it.
(Well, OK, maybe it was stunned puzzlement.)
“Uh, well, I guess ... no,” says a student we’ll call Casper, who declined to give his real name when asked if he’d ever encountered the ghost of McElroy.
According to legend, one passed along for years, an other-worldly being lives in McElroy, making its presence known in the form of a pesky poltergeist that goes around stealing women’s undergarments — truly a ghastly offense.
But ... Is it real? The ghost was mentioned in a new compilation of ghostly legends and haunted places authored by Hugh Bishop, who puts it this way:
“Mankato State University in southern Minnesota has a respectable list of ghostly reports,” writes Bishop, whom we’ll forgive for using MSU’s former name. “Perhaps the most interesting report is of an apparition that gets his kicks by going on panty raids in the dorms.”
And at the Web site Minnesotaghosts.com, there is this entry: “The Crawford-McElroy Complex is haunted by a 1960s ghost who still likes to go on panty raids. No pranksters have ever been caught faking the weird phenomena.”
So the legend is out there, but where did it come from? Whose ghost is it that, according to published books and Internet sites, is wandering around stealing panties?
Getting nowhere with Casper, we call the woman who, on paper, is in charge of the dorms, Cynthia Janney. As MSU’s director of residential life, we figured she would surely be able to shed light on this mystery.
We figured wrong. Janney knew nothing about the panty raid ghost, so we called up a few, well, how to put this ... experienced employees on campus.
Scott Hagabek works in the Centennial Student Union. And while he may not look it, he, in fact, lived in the McElroy complex during the 1960s.
“In all my years here,” he said. “I’ve never heard of a ghost anywhere on campus.”
Next we tried Malcolm O’Sullivan, a man who has held many positions on campus, including a stint once upon a time in residential life.
“Well,” he says, while letting out what sounds like a belly laugh, “no. I haven’t. Nothing rings a bell.”
He wants to help, though, and begins thinking aloud.
“Who do I know that preceded me here that may know something about this story ... two names come to mind: Gary Willhite, he works as director of housing at Crookston. He was complex director. And Bob Isdahl, who was the director of the physical plant for years. Try them.”
We call Willhite, who is a talks-like-he-knows-you-right-away kind of guy. We tell him O’Sullivan gave us his name.
“Malcolm!” he says. “Well he’s a ghostly guy.”
Willhite was a student here in 1968 and lived in McElroy for two or three years. A couple of years later, he served as the hall director for McElroy. Surely, at some point during his student days he and his fellow students swapped tales of ghostly occurrences, or as hall director, surely he consoled a student too terrified to walk into her room alone.
Right?
“No,” he says. “No stories. How disappointing is that?”
OK, this just doesn’t make sense. How is it that people, respectable people, people with inquisitive minds, have not only never discussed this ghost with anyone, but have never even heard that the tale exists?
It is in at least three books, listed on at least one Web site. Could it be that it’s simply a recycled tale that makes for good copy? Helps sell books? Really, who can resist retelling the story of a ghost that goes on panty raids?
Our last stop is Rich Wheeler. He’s the guy who, right now, is in charge of maintenance in the residence halls. If there’s a ghost in the dorms, Wheeler, the guy with the keys to all the dark, shadowy places where ghosts, goblins and perhaps a few drunken freshman hide, should know something.
“I’ve been around for a long time, 31 years or so,” he says. “Occasionally, there are people who have mentioned something, it’s more like rumor, nothing specific, and I can only say it’s similar to what you’re saying.”
Finally!
Tell us more ...
“Nobody’s ever actually seen anything,” Wheeler says. “And it’s not specific to a wing, but in Mac, in some way a resident had died, but I don’t know exactly what way. People on that floor had experienced some weirdness.
“It’s been years and years and years since I thought about that ... Not until you called, actually.”
And that’s where our investigation ends. The mystery remains just that — a mystery. No one we talked to had ever actually seen or heard a ghost, or felt that eerie, unexplainable presence that has prompted so many paranoid heads to look over their shoulder in made-for-TV movies.
But ... Someone did die there. And perhaps tonight, the spookiest of all nights, the ghost of that young man will come out, haunt a few hallways, and, perhaps, steal away with a few pairs of panties.
