When I started teaching English at Northwestern Military and Naval Academy near Lake Geneva, Wisconsin, nobody warned me about the ghosts.
Northwestern — a beautiful, old granite building — was a boarding school. A hundred boys lived there, ranging in age from seventh grade through twelfth, although the building could have accommodated maybe twice as many. The school had been in existence for about a century. The hallway leading to the gymnasium was lined with photographs of all the graduating classes
The entrance to the school featured two wrought iron gates and a long driveway that wound through the extensive grounds. Trees, flowers and shrubs added to the park-like atmosphere.
Northwestern was both a military and a naval academy, and some of its graduates had served in World War I and World War II. A couple of those who had been killed in action were buried on the grounds. Considering the age of the building and its history, I suppose I should have expected ghosts — or rather, I should have expected ghost stories.
But I didn’t.
Not until one fall morning when my students came to class so upset that they couldn’t concentrate on their school work.
“Do you believe in ghosts?” one of them asked finally.
“Yeah, Ms. Ralph. Do you believe in ghosts?” several others chimed in.
While I was attending the university to earn my teacher certification, none of the professors had mentioned how you were supposed to handle a question like this.
“Well,” I said, “I think there are probably many things in this world that we don’t understand.”
By now, all of my students were giving me their utmost attention. If only they were this interested in English.
“Have you ever seen a ghost?” one of them asked.
I shook my head. “No. I’ve never seen a ghost.”
“We have,” said one young man.
“Really?” I said. “And when was this?”
“Last night.”
“In our room.”
“We did, too,” said a couple of others.
“What happened?” I asked.
“It was just after lights out. Our curtain started moving.”
Instead of doors, each of the dorm rooms had curtains covering the doorway.
“At first I thought it was the sergeant coming to check on us,” my student said.
Military personnel were on duty around the clock to supervise the boys.
“Then what happened?” I asked.
“S-sss-some,” he stammered.
“Something - continued below ...
