Bennington's Spookiest Stories
A misty figure floating beyond the end of the world. The eerie sounds of pianos streaming from Jennings practice rooms with no one at the keys. The spine-chilling feeling of eyes watching you from the woods.
What comes to mind when you think of the seasonal thinning of the veil? Alumni share their original non-fiction account of hauntings at Bennington and the spooky side of autumn. Read if you dare.
A Night in Jennings
by Larry '00
One time I went to play the piano on the second floor of Jennings at 1:00 am. When I went in, the door to the dumb waiter shaft door on the wall on the left was open. I thought that was weird, as I’d tried to open that door myself before, and it was always locked. I decided to not practice the piano that night!
The next day, I checked it and it was closed and locked, so I asked Fran the security guard about it and he said nobody had a key to that door. Sometimes I think security would play pranks on the students, so maybe that’s what it was…or was it?
A "Sort Of" True Ghost Story
by Carol '63
In the spirit of Halloween, I would like to share this recent happening in our generator business:
An elderly lady in Louisa, VA, was certain that her house was haunted and was afraid to go home! Lights had allegedly been cutting off and back on sporadically when no power outage or activity from her generator was present. However, her son was less convinced. He suspected that a more earthly process might be in play, so he called our tech Gary to check the generator. On Gary's arrival, all was fine with the lights, and the generator checked out, as well. However, while he was still there—YIKES!—the strange phenomena manifested. Undaunted, our fearless technician set to work, and before long he had traced the problem...to a faulty breaker. Case closed. An exorcist would not be required.
This is the first time that Generator Service Company has been called to troubleshoot a haunted house.
A Winter Night in Dewey
by Katie '15
As a house chair, I returned to campu
s a little earlier than everyone each term to get the house ready. My co-chair Brittany and I were in the Dewey common room late one night before the start of the spring term, making door signs for our housemates. It was late and dark and cold. We were alone in the house.
Deep in glue and glitter, we heard a noise from upstairs. Live in these houses long enough and you know the sound of a drawer closing, a foot falling. What we heard was a drawer opening slowly, then slamming shut. Brittany and I made eye contact, but carried on. Surely it’s nothing; we’re the only ones here!
A few moments later, we realized we were not alone. Distinct footsteps ran across the upstairs hall above us, fast.
Brittany and I dropped our craft supplies and bolted across the street to Swan.
The Dewey ghost made themselves known to me a few more times, but this was the scariest.
Dueling Pianos
by Ren '01
Every winter, the Bennington College campus in Vermont empties out for Field Work Term, when students do internships. I was one of around twenty-five students who stayed, and I paid a small fee to rent a studio in the Jennings music building so I could keep up with my piano practice in between terms. I don't remember what year Jennings was built, but the room I rented had an ancient-looking skeleton key, which I thought was cool.
Being one of very few people on campus that winter, I was often alone practicing piano in Jennings at night. To say it was creepy is an understatement. The heat would come on with a sudden bang, and there were mysterious creaks throughout the building.
One night, I was practicing scales on the piano. To my knowledge, I was alone in the building. Suddenly, I realized that someone else was playing the very same scale from another room. I froze in terror. The other player also stopped.
I began to play again, and again the same scale started up in another room. I slammed the lid of the piano shut and ran down the stairs and out of that building so fast, I barely remembered to lock the door behind me. I tore down the path through the woods back to Fels House, and I swear I passed a dog with glowing eyes on my way.
I generally don't believe in ghosts and spirits, but that experience spooked me and made me wonder. If someone else was in the building unbeknownst to me, did they have perfect pitch? Somehow they were echoing back the same scale I was playing. Was it something more sinister? Or had the dark, lonely Vermont winter gotten into my head? I used to get terribly depressed up north during the winter. Was this some manifestation of my depression?
I guess I will never know...unless any Bennington folks want to fess up to a prank!
