Oberlin's Most Haunted Locales

If you've ever been lucky enough to experience an Oberlin Halloween,  then you know that it is not to be missed. From pumpkin carving to costume contests and department events, Oberlin makes the most of the Halloween spirit. So, in the spirit of the season, I donned my hat, lit my lantern, and set out to find the most haunted locations on Oberlin's campus...

The Noah Basement

With its crumbling, once-elegant facade and cozy wood paneled lounges, Noah Hall is the aging antiquarian of Oberlin’s residence halls. Given this, you might expect the Noah Basement to be full of dusty shelves and decrepit armchairs.

Think again.

Descending the dark, narrow staircase into the Noah Basement, you enter a world of concrete chambers and harsh electric lights. The rumble of washing machines echoes through the corridors, and behind wire grates strange machines lurk, watching passersby with blinking, inhuman eyes. At the end of one passage, a bulkhead door awaits, daring all who come to open it, and unleash the horrors inside.

Or, to discover where the Noah janitors keep their supplies, as the case may be. Even so, as I ease the old metal door closed with a groan, I can’t help but wonder…

Am I alone down here?

Tappan Square

Oberlin was going to lose power.

This was the word around campus on the eve of Halloween my first year—whether by some quirk of electrical grid maintenance or a byproduct of the ongoing environmental renovation project, the entire town of Oberlin was scheduled to temporarily lose power, starting at midnight.

Now, it just so happened that on this particular Halloween evening, I had been invited to play in a Dungeons and Dragons one shot. The session was set to conclude around 11:30, leaving everyone with just enough time to make it back to their dorm rooms before the stroke of midnight. However, as you might have guessed if you’ve ever played in a D&D one shot before, the session ran long.

And so it was that I found myself walking through Tappan Square when, all at once, complete and utter darkness fell. I made the rest of the trek back to Burton with my phone flashlight clutched in one hand, watched all the while by the shadowy ranks of trees around me...

The Tunnels

In a place as old as Oberlin, you are bound to encounter some eccentric architecture. From the meandering corridors of Wilder’s upper floors to the dead-end staircase in Peters and secret lounge hidden behind Craig Lecture Hall, Oberlin’s campus can be a mystifying and mysterious place—just ask anyone who’s ever tried to find a room in Peters by room number alone.

But there are some secrets at Oberlin so apocryphal that even I wasn’t sure they were real, until recently. 

You see, I had heard about the tunnels under German House since my first year—people claiming they were haunted, or flooded, or not real to begin with—but, being busy and generally unadventurous, it had never occurred to me to see for myself if the rumors were true. When I began writing this post, however, I realized that it would not be complete without a visit to Oberlin’s worst-kept secret passage. 

So I asked around, and got a tip from a trusted friend on where to begin my search. Sure enough, tucked away out of sight, I found a heavy iron trapdoor leading down into the floor. 

As for what lies beneath, that remains a secret—for now… the floor. 

The Arb

The Arboretum is a transient place. In just a few steps, you can pass from the wide expanse of a grassy lawn to the quiet order of a pondside boardwalk to the shade of a woodland wilderness. I have spent many an hour there, walking among the trees with friends or watching geese on the pond—once, I even witnessed the unearthly twilight of a solar eclipse descend over the Arb.

The Arboretum is a quiet place. I most often visit seeking fresh air and relaxation, but I would be a fool to deny that it can be eerie, too. When the sun begins to set and the shadows of the trees grow long on the ground, you begin to wonder if it really was just falling leaves you saw moving out of the corner of your eye, or something else.

The Arboretum is a wild place, and at night, it truly belongs to the wilderness. Folk such as you and I will only ever be visitors…

Conclusion

In my six and a half semesters exploring Oberlin, I have come to appreciate it as a place replete with beauty, both architectural and natural. But Oberlin can be a place of mystery, too. So if you ever find yourself here on Halloween, remember to bring your lantern, and above all, remember this:

Beware the white squirrel...