Haunted Oxford
DM Staff

Conner Hall

If you happen to find yourself scheduled with a class in the bottom floor of Conner Hall, beware. Descend the dark stone steps with the cautionary rubber grips that you will undoubtedly miss and fall down at least once in your semester, and you reach the dungeon. These black brick hallways feel like the Chamber of Secrets. Speaking of the Chamber of Secrets, you’re more likely to find the entrance to that than the girls’ bathroom. Maybe it’s like a Room of Requirement deal, except for the opposite because it definitely wasn’t there when I needed it most. On a brighter note, the red, inset benches are perfect for impromptu napping before class, if you’re okay with sleeping on blood-colored hardwood and dreaming of your eventual doom. I know I am. The labyrinth seems to ooze the overwhelming feeling you get when you look at your schedule every morning. Probably also tears of accountancy students crying because math is hard. Also, those stone passageways echo the footsteps of anyone who dares step within them like whispers from beyond the grave that just so happened to be screaming, not whispering,  – so good luck with that nap.
-Clara Turnage, @ClaraBoldyGoes

Faulkner’s Alley

Faulkner’s Alley, located between Old Venice and City Grocery, got its name because the passageway was a favored cut-through to the Square by the eponymous literary great. Some say, however, the spirit of William Faulkner himself still lurks in the alley to this day.
Of all the alleys in Oxford, this might be the most visited and least gloomy, but many agree a presence can be felt there. When I asked a few Oxonians what some of the most haunted places in town were, many mentioned the alleyway and told me “There’s probably ghosts in there.” Could it possibly be that Faulkner’s Alley is not only still his spirit’s favorite cut-through, but also a favorite short cut of all the rogue spirits in Oxford? I had to go investigate.
The arched passage of exposed white brick is, in actuality, pretty charming. Pleasant mosaic designs are set into the wall, and the passage stays lit at night. During the day, I entered the shadowy alley with only the light which leaked in from each end.
As I worked my way to the other opening of the tunnel, I realized that I was suddenly very cold. A breeze brushed a lock of my hair aside. I knew that I felt a spirit, possibly the spirit of Faulkner himself. Whoever the spirit was, er, is, I felt that it was probably wishing it could get into that darned grilled cheese bar.

-Zoe McDonald, @Zoe_katherine

Barnard Observatory
By day, Barnard Observatory, home of the Center for Study of Southern Culture, is one of the most picturesque buildings on campus. The red-brick building overlooking the Grove was built by the third chancellor of the university, Frederick A. Barnard, in 1859, making it one of the oldest buildings on campus as well. Originally, Chancellor Barnard intended the observatory to house the world’s largest telescope, but the outbreak of the Civil War prevented the telescope from ever being delivered. Barnard and his wife lived in a furnished portion of the observatory in 1860, and during the Civil War while the University was closed, the building was used as a hospital for both Union and Confederate soldiers. Throughout the years, the building has been used as everything from a classroom to a sorority house to the Physics Department, and when night falls, one can’t help but wonder how much of that history remains within old Barnard’s walls. Take a walk through the observatory in the dark, listen to the creaking floorboards moan under even the lightest step, watch shadows shift out of the corner of your eye and try to ignore the chill that slithers down the back of your neck.
-McKenna Wierman, @wierman_m

Farley Hall
Today, Farley Hall is the home of the University’s department of journalism, but the ground on which it stands harbors a grim history. Before 1929, when Farley was constructed, the site was once the cradle of a structure known as “Dead House,” a former Confederate morgue. Legend says that of the some 700 Union and Confederate bodies transferred from “Dead House” to the cemetery, some restless souls of fallen soldiers still haunt the grounds. Stories of shadowy figures and strange noises circulate around the journalism school, so look carefully next time you walk past Farley— that figure you see might be something other than a student…
-McKenna Wierman, @wierman_m

Faulkner’s grave
What could be more scary than the final resting place of our beloved William Cuthbert Faulkner? Located in St. Peter’s Cemetery, the grave site is usually littered with half empty whiskey bottles reflecting an eerie local custom and giving the impression that Faulkner himself is still alive and toasting to his own memory.  I have no doubt Faulkner’s spirit lingers to have the final drops of Jack Daniels left by students for his enjoyment. Resting beside William is his mostly forgotten wife, Estelle Oldham Faulkner, whose grave is often trampled by students in pursuit of feeding Faulkner a shot. Estelle’s spirit may or may not still walk all over Oxford, estranged by her husband’s extraneous affairs.  If you visit the cemetery just at dawn (which, why would you do that?), fog may be settled over the top of the cemetery, casting a spine-chilling aura across the field.
-Taylor Bennett, @TBennettNews

Bishop Hall Bathroom

The Bishop bathroom is the most haunted place on campus, if you ask me. Not all the Bishop bathrooms, just the one on the second floor. It is small, it is visually unappealing and it is haunted.
So there I was: in the Student Media Center minding my own business when nature began to call. It was dark outside, which makes everything scarier. It was silent. That is, until I opened the door, which creaked for an abnormally long time, and loudly, behind me as I headed into a stall. The Bishop bathroom is like a small cave. It feels dark and damp even though fluorescent lights illuminate the room.
I sat in silence and began to read the stall wall. That is when I saw it; a message that confirmed what I already felt upon entering the bathroom. “This bathroom is haunted.” There it was plain and clear right in front of me.
As if on queue, water began to trickle out of the faucet that was previously turned off and without warning, the toilet flushed. There are few things scarier than a surprise toilet flush, especially when it tears through an eerie silence. Needless to say I booked it out of there, never so thankful for those hand sanitizer dispensers so I didn’t have to linger and wash my hands under the haunted faucet.
In all actuality, if this had happened in broad daylight or if I had been with a friend, it would have been a comical Moaning Myrtle situation, but things change when one is left alone in the dark. To this day, if I find myself in Bishop having to run to the oval office, I will almost always go to the first floor’s less scary bathroom or hold it.
-Caroline Callaway, @Carocallaway

Lyceum
It was just a normal day in the middle of October. It was surprisingly quiet on campus. I realized that I’ve never walked through the Lyceum, so I decided to take a stroll through the most famous building at Ole Miss.
I felt like I was walking through a museum. It looks like a building that should be encased in a glass box that no one should touch. It was dimly lit inside, and I couldn’t find a single soul.
There was no one inside. It felt haunted. I could hear the whispers of Civil War generals’ ghosts fighting on the battle grounds and the 18th century lanterns flickering. I felt like they were coming to get me.
The history of the Civil War permeated my veins. Thoughts of old generals buried beneath the grounds crossed my mind and hidden weapons being stored between the walls that hold together the building gave me shivers.
How could there be no one inside this very popular building? I had to leave. The feeling became too strong.
-Dylan Rubino, @drubino11