Hauntings at The Ladd School : Part Two

It's a remarkable coincidence the 8 buildings remaining, as of this writing, on the Ladd School campus are arguable the most notorious in the institution's history. Among these, the Fogarty building, with its orange exterior panels and circular shape towering stories above the other buildings, attracts the most attention. Built in 1962, Fogarty was the first and only proper hospital at the Ladd School, outfitted with an x-ray room, dental clinic, and morgue. Of particular note, it was the dental clinic's practice of pulling teeth without anesthetic that, in 1977, sparked the movement to close the institution; but it is doubtless the morgue that has most provoked the pursuit of ghost hunters and curiosity seekers alike.

It is no coincidence, then, that rumors surrounding Fogarty abound. After all, pain and death are inextricably linked to its existence; and yet, were it not for a small number of reoccurring phenomena, its reputation could be dismissed as rote superstition.

The Knocking Ghost

Malfunctioning electronics are among the most common reports and rumors of hauntings at the hospital; cell phone, camera, and flashlight batteries suddenly drain; radios malfunction; and cars stall. There are even some who claim to have physical encounters - shoved, or brushed up against by an invisible entity; but it is the knocking ghost that has most captured my imagination.

The word poltergeist is of German derivation; a conjunction of poltern, meaning to make noise, and geist, meaning spirit, or ghost. The term may be translated literally as "noisy ghost." The most common activities associated with the phenomenon include everything from moving or throwing objects, to electronic interference; from loud noises and shrieks, to vile smells.

I recall from my many late night explorations of Fogarty in 2001 the state the building was in; the walls and floors were mostly intact except for the windows, the majority of which were smashed. The ceilings were badly water damaged and had for the most part fallen and turned to mush; so walking through the rooms and corridors invariably raised a cacophony of sloshing and shattering sounds that echoed through the empty spaces. Only when standing still did the silence of abandonment surround, and even then the constant dripping of water arose from the darkness; like the clicking of a doctor's heels as he made his late night rounds alone**, I thought to myself.

It was the smell, however, that remains with me to this day. The atmosphere was flush with it - a thick, musty stench like old, wet books. So deeply entrenched in the atmosphere was this odor that you could smell it outside; an effluvium of dank, moldering decay wafting on the breezes that wandered through the cracks and the holes in boarded doors and windows. It was only upon setting foot on the third floor that the odor was more striking yet; almost instantly the musty air was gone, replaced by the unmistakable smell of a hospital.

On my final entry to Fogarty in 2006, it was evident that the structure was worse for the wear. In many places, the walls inside were torn apart; the ceilings were entirely down; and scarcely a windowpane was intact. It was hard to say what had been more destructive; the elements of nature, or vandals. Not even the morgue remained unscathed; its walls spray-painted with shitty graffiti, the doors were flung open, their shelves tossed asunder. About the only thing that hadn't changed was the elevator. Frozen forever at one of the upper levels, its doors on every other floor remained sealed shut like tombs; their gears rusted in place, immobilized by dead wires, forsaken by its final passengers.

It was the middle of the afternoon when I had finished snapping the last photographs I would ever take within Fogarty's walls. I was on my way to the exit - an open door where the boards had been removed - when I was stopped dead in my tracks.

On the ground floor, there came three, short, distinct knocks wrapped upon the inside of the elevator doors.



**FUN FACT: I wrote that line about the "clicking of a doctor's heels" in 2001 for the website, and it was plagiarized by some hack journalist for a public access TV show in New Jersey.