Ghosts were first reported before Music Hall was built, after the ground was first excavated for an Exposition Hall elevator.
An 1876 newspaper reported... “It does not appear that the ghosts troubled anybody until after a large number of the yellow bones for which they hold a certain spectral affection, had been dug up in making way for the erection of an elevator in Exposition Hall. ... From that hour shadowy people wandered restlessly through the creaking halls by night, hiding in dark corners, stealing behind pillars, and creating queer crepitating noises under the dim roof. The night watchman in charge of the building was greatly annoyed by these mysterious sounds. Whithersoever he went within the edifice by night, the sound of stealthy footsteps followed him; when he stopped they ceased, when he moved again they also followed,—timid feet, invisible, intangible, tireless; and the loose plank that uttered a hollow groan under the watchman’s foot, never failed to respond with a gentler moan to the ghostly tread behind. There were strange knockings, too, at all hours of the night—knockings seemingly for admission. But when the door was unbarred and opened, none stood without in the night shadow, nor did the snow in the winter midnights show the print of feet. Sometimes sounds of mocking laughter broke the silence; sometimes strange whispers, faint and thin as whispers falling on the drowsy ears of dying men in the sick rooms; sometimes loud echoes, as of heavy bodies falling in the darkness from the roof to the hollow flooring above the ancient place of graves. Yet no one who ran, lantern in hand, to the place of these inexplicable sounds ever discovered their origin. Dogs brought into the building whined to be let out, and followed their masters with ever sign of abject terror—eye balls wildly protruding, and ears laid back.”
The 1876 article described another alleged incident... “One morning, a certain exhibitor beheld a lady standing before his booth—a lady so strange of aspect that he involuntarily regarded her with peculiar curiosity. She seemed tall and fair and young, clad in a pale dress of fashion long-forgotten, and wearing her hair flowing loose, uncovered by hat or bonnet. He approached the white figure, prompted by a desire to catch a glimpse of the features bent over the case, but ready to mask this purpose by politely placing his knowledge of the wares at the stranger’s service. But as he stepped forward, the figure became diaphanous, faint, serial, finally invisible, and a chill as of December winds passed over him.”
On President’s Day 2003, a box office worker who was alone at Music Hall described several unusual events. He was isolated in the box office, and could not see into the lobby but heard strange noises all day. He heard music stands in the lobby falling over, but found the stands still upright when he checked. A button to alert him that a customer was at his window rang several times, but no one was there. (It had snowed the night before but there were no footprints in the snow outside the window.) A while later, he heard what sounded like the crystal chandelier in the lobby crashing to the floor and shattering. When he investigated the chandelier was still hanging from the ceiling and all seemed well. He heard the sound of the glass doors in the lobby, which lead to the staircases, opening and closing all day long, but he was the only person in the building. Finally, when he could not put it off any longer, he walked down to the restroom near the Critic’s Club. As he neared, he heard “what sounded like, a party going on inside the Critic’s Club. Glasses tinkling, muffled voices, laughter and what sounded like a string quartet, except the Critic’s Club was locked and the lights were out. I rattled the door and the sound stopped.”
Another box office worker also reported hearing his call button, but seeing no one there. Afterward, he felt a tug on his clothing and turned around to see an apparition of a boy in nineteenth century clothing. A nightwatchman described hearing footsteps following him on a nearby hardwood floor, but he was walking on carpet and not making any sound.Roger Krebs, a member of the maintenance crew, states he heard a piano playing on several occasions only to find the hall empty, seen closed doors suddenly open, and witnessed a floor buffer mysteriously turning itself on-and-off in the ballroom. Kitty Love, who worked at Music Hall for 21-years acknowledged, “I hear them when I’m on duty alone at night. Footsteps, doors slamming, and music playing, and I know I was the only one in the building.” Other alleged sightings include ghosts in vintage clothing in the ballroom late at night, an extra, unknown “cast member” appearing during an operatic production, unusual looking figures appearing among the audience, the untraceable sound of a music box playing near an elevator, and a small boy asking about a man in the audience of Springer Auditorium when only himself and his father were present.
