Haunted Canada 4

by Joel A. Sutherland

  Dawson City’s new reputation for being an entertainment centre was also created by the work of struggling bartender Alexander Pantages, who became a theatre owner and eventually a movie mogul. Kate and Pantages grew very close and it seemed like her star would never fall nor lose its shine, but their relationship was as turbulent as a Yukon winter storm. Pantages left Kate at the same time the gold rush came to a screeching halt.

  After a few years of mining, it had become apparent that there wasn’t as much gold in the area as everyone had hoped. Dawson City saw its population plummet as quickly as it had risen. The forty thousand people who lived there in 1898 all but disappeared overnight, leaving only eight thousand residents by 1899 and 615 by 1911. Dawson City was no longer a city, and although the Palace Grand Theatre remained, Klondike Kate was left without an audience. She eventually packed up and left town. After another string of unsuccessful attempts to find her footing in show business, she ended her days playing the part of a social outcast and recluse. She died on February 21, 1957.

  But the show must go on. Although she died in America, it’s said that Kate’s spirit returned to the beloved location of her glory days, the Palace Grand Theatre in Dawson City. Her ghost is believed to haunt her old dressing room and people have reported seeing a blazing red swirl in the middle of the stage during the night when no one else is in the theatre. Bronwyn Jones was a stage manager of the Palace Grand from 2002 to 2004, and she believes the intensely short time frame of the Klondike Gold Rush — and the amount of history that happened in such a short span — might be part of the reason for the spiritual energy that’s still felt in the building’s walls.

  Dawson City is now a major tourist attraction, drawing sixty thousand visitors each year. The Palace Grand Theatre still puts on performances, many of which reflect life in the Old West. And then, once everyone has left after the final show of the evening, Klondike Kate takes the stage and performs her fire dance for an audience of none.

  Klondike Kate

  THE SHADOW IN YOUR BEDROOM

  Iqaluit, Nunavut

  With extremely bitter winters and very short summers, the city of Iqaluit, capital of Nunavut, is too cold to grow trees. Amongst the snow, ice and rock you’ll only find hardened, scraggly bushes. Winter temperatures average -30°C to -45°C. The howling Arctic winds chill to the bone and exposed skin can freeze in minutes, but a shadowy man who watches people while they sleep has been even more effective at turning people’s blood to ice.

  There used to be a townhouse complex in Iqaluit called White Row that many former tenants believed to be haunted. The entire complex tragically burned to the ground in 2012 in a blaze that the city’s fire chief deemed to be suspicious.

  Bumps in the night, knocking on the walls and phantom footsteps in the halls were common bedtime sounds in White Row. Most people brushed the odd noises off as the sounds of an old building or rationalized that they must’ve been caused by the winter wind, but others saw what — or rather, who — was the source of the disturbances within White Row.

  There was a man, a shadowy man — a shadowy man who watched people at night. Most often it was young children and teenagers who saw the shadowy man. Imagine: one moment you’re alone, the next moment you see the shadowy man in your doorway, and the moment after that he’s gone. He never made a sound or moved a muscle, and he seemed incapable of passing through doors or entering rooms. It appeared as if his sole purpose was to stare at the living after they’d gone to bed.

  One young girl reported seeing the shadowy man for the first time shortly after her family moved into White Row. He appeared in her doorway while she was alone and freaked her out so much that she ran straight to her sister’s room. One night, as the girl was talking to her cousin, she spotted the shadowy man in her closet out of the corner of her eye, staring out from the darkness within. He appeared in her room every single night until the family moved into a new home.

  Despite her initial fear, the girl said she grew accustomed to the shadowy man and learned to live with the unexplained phenomena. He didn’t give off an evil energy, she said, although his appearances were often preceded by an unusual feeling. The girl even began to believe that the shadowy man was there to protect her.

  Everyone who saw the shadowy man described him as tall and pale, but his most disconcerting characteristic was his neck. A deep purple bruise ringed it, as did the deep outline of a rope. It was believed he used to live in White Row and committed suicide somewhere in the building, trapping his soul within. Whether he was unable to pass through doorways or voluntarily chose not to (and even if he was there to protect the people he watched), his presence certainly didn’t make it easy to fall asleep at night.

  A shadow passing by a bedroom door or the sound of something stirring in the darkness of a closet might simply be products of imagination … but then again, it might be something else, something unexplainable.

  Something real.

  HAUNTED NIGHTMARES

  Selkirk, Manitoba

  Like many infamously haunted locations, St. Andrew’s on the Red attracts a regular procession of ghost hunters. People have seen chilling sights and heard unnatural sounds, but most distressingly, many have suffered from a recurring nightmare that keeps them up all night for weeks following their visit. A nightmare of an unseen presence rattling the cemetery gates so viciously that it threatens to tear them off their hinges.

  Built between 1845 and 1849, St. Andrew’s on the Red in Selkirk (twenty-two kilometres northeast of Winnipeg) is the oldest stone church in Western Canada. Its small cemetery is filled with locals that succumbed to plagues such as influenza, diphtheria, typhoid and tuberculosis, as well as many notable people who played a role in Manitoba’s history. It’s little wonder that it’s also a hot spot for paranormal sightings.

  When the Hudson’s Bay Company and the North West Company amalgamated in the 1820s, many workers either retired or lost their jobs. Some of these people settled with their families in what is now Selkirk along the Red River. Archdeacon William Cockran built a wooden church in 1831, the outline of which can still be found directly behind the present stone church. When you set foot inside this holy place, you’re immediately struck by the history within, as much of the interior has remained unchanged since 1849.

  Old, gnarled trees cast shadows on the cemetery grounds. You’ll find the crumbling tombstones of Archdeacon Cockran; E.H.G.G. Hay, first leader of Manitoba’s Official Opposition Party in 1870; Alexander Christie, Chief Factor of the Hudson’s Bay Company; and Captain William Kennedy, an Arctic explorer who searched for Sir John Franklin’s lost expedition in 1851. Stick around after nightfall and this quiet, peaceful burial place becomes decidedly less so.

  There are spine-tingling reports from late-night churchgoers who have seen a man in black and a woman in white drifting a foot above the cemetery’s ground. Rumour has it that the woman died during the church’s construction and sometimes appears on the balcony during services. Others have seen a ghost car appear out of thin air and pull up to the cemetery’s gate. It sits and idles for a moment — perhaps looking to pick someone up or to drop someone (recently deceased, most likely) off — before disappearing. The strangest regular sighting in the St. Andrew’s on the Red cemetery is a pair of red eyes peering out from behind tombstones and trees, silently watching those who walk the grounds at night.

  St. Andrew’s on the Red

  While enrolled in the Creative Communications program at Red River College, Jenn Twardowski and a classmate filmed the cemetery for a school project. Even under the safety and comfort of daylight they had a disconcerting experience. They were followed by a weird, unexplainable noise similar to a hammer striking a nail in a coffin. Both of the students were simultaneously relieved and creeped out when they learned the other had heard the spooky sound as well.

  Although Jenn set out to capture one of the spirits on film, she should count her blessings that she did not. Those who have seen the man in black, the wom
an in white, the phantom car or the red eyes have all suffered from hideous nightmares. These night terrors are filled with the violent rattling of the church’s gates. Some believe the nightmares are a plea for help from the church’s ghosts. Others see them as a dark omen and a dire warning never to return.

  DEAD-EYED DOLLS

  Ottawa, Ontario

  The Bytown Museum couldn’t have a more picturesque location in our nation’s capital. Housed in the oldest stone building in Ottawa, the museum is on the lower locks of the Rideau Canal at the Ottawa River, nestled in the heart of downtown between Parliament Hill and the Chateau Laurier Hotel.

  But the petite museum’s beauty and charm are in direct contrast with the truly terrifying experiences that visitors and employees have reported. In fact, it’s considered by many paranormal experts to be the most haunted location in the entire country. Something lives in the museum’s displays, skulking through the artifacts and taking possession of the antique dolls that sit in silent rows, watching everyone who wanders up to the second floor unawares.

  The building was constructed in 1827 by the British military as a supply storehouse and treasury during the construction of the Rideau Canal. Death was always hanging over the building in those early years, as nearly one thousand workers died in gruesome construction accidents and from diseases such as malaria. Undeterred by the tragic deaths of so many workers, the military continued work on the canal under the leadership of Lieutenant Colonel John By in order to defend against invasion from the United States. Although Lt. Col. By died in 1836, some believe his ghost still lingers by the still waters of the Rideau Canal.

  Today the Bytown Museum houses a permanent collection of artifacts celebrating Ottawa’s history, and it’s not uncommon for visitors to be overcome by an uneasy feeling while they’re observing the displays. On the second floor is a collection of antique dolls that has caused some of the greatest unease. If it’s very quiet and you’re all alone, close your eyes and strain your ears. You might hear the faint sounds of a child crying. Open your eyes and you might even catch one of the dolls winking at you as if you’re in on some ghastly joke. Those who have heard the crying and seen the blinking eyes believe the spooky porcelain dolls are possessed by the spirits of dead children.

  Other visitors have said they have been pushed, grabbed or tripped from behind when alone, typically in the creepy old money vault and the stairwell. Some museum-goers have heard an angry, bodiless voice shout, “Get out! Get out!” But the majority of the paranormal reports come from the museum staff, and the most hair-raising activity tends to occur after the public has left for the night.

  One employee noticed a man sitting in the library after she had closed up. She asked him to leave, and he obliged without a word, silently walking to the door. A second after he stepped outside, she realized she hadn’t seen the man enter the museum while they were open — an impossibility in such a small, intimate building — so she flung the door open to ask how he had gotten in. Although it had only been a brief moment since the man had left and she could see a far distance in every direction, the man had completely vanished.

  Glen Shackleton, chairman of the board of directors, has no doubt the Bytown Museum is haunted, and he has a couple of chilling stories to back up this claim. One night he and three others were the only four people in the building. They closed a sliding door and it immediately began to vibrate violently as if someone on the other side was hitting it. A review of the security camera footage showed that no one was there, but as soon as the assault on the door ended they heard heavy footsteps walking away. The late-night encounter with an unseen presence was enough to send Glen’s three companions running from the museum.

  Glen believes, as many others do, that the ghost who causes these disturbances is Duncan McNab. Duncan was a supply manager during the construction of the Rideau Canal. But Glen also thinks there might be at least one other prominent ghost within the walls of the museum, someone who had a much larger role in the canal’s construction.

  Another night he was having a casual chat with a museum employee about the ghost of McNab when the woman’s computer inexplicably turned off. A moment later it turned itself back on, but her normal desktop didn’t appear. Instead, the monitor was blank other than the words “Lt. Col. John By” repeated over and over on the screen. It was as if the colonel himself was listening in on the conversation and wanted to make it clear that McNab’s ghost isn’t the only spirit haunting the Bytown Museum. Nor does it seem that either man is ready to leave his life’s work behind.

  THE BLOODY BATTLEFIELD

  Quebec City, Quebec

  Although it only lasted a mere fifteen minutes, the Battle of the Plains of Abraham was one of the bloodiest in Canada’s history. It’s said the lawns grow so lush and green today thanks to the litres of French and British blood that were spilled there on September 13, 1759. It’s estimated that more than 1,300 soldiers were killed or injured during the battle. That’s roughly three people every two seconds. With so much life lost in such a violent way and in such a short period of time, it’s little wonder Battlefields Park, named in commemoration of the historic battle, is widely considered to be the most haunted location in Quebec.

  The Battle of the Plains of Abraham was fought on a plateau just outside the walls of Quebec City on land that was owned by a farmer named Abraham (which explains the battle’s name). Although it was over quickly, it was the culmination of a three-month siege by the British and was a pivotal moment in Canadian history. It’s interesting to ponder how Canada, known as New France at the time, would be different today if the British had lost the battle and hadn’t taken control of Quebec from the French.

  That’s not to say that the British didn’t suffer during the battle. Far from it. The two sides had nearly an identical number of casualties and wounded soldiers, and both leaders, British General James Wolfe and French Lieutenant General Louis-Joseph de Montcalm, died from wounds suffered on the battlefield. Moreover, they both welcomed death as if the Grim Reaper were an old friend.

  Wolfe was struck in the stomach and chest by two shots near the beginning of the battle and fell to the ground. Upon hearing a soldier shout, “They run, see how they run,” Wolfe opened his eyes and asked who was running. When he heard the French lines had broken and they were fleeing, he sighed in relief and said, “Now, God be praised, I will die in peace.” These were his final words. He died immediately after uttering them.

  During the retreat, Montcalm was struck repeatedly in his lower abdomen and thigh. He managed to escape but died from the wounds early the next morning. When he was informed by the surgeons trying to save his life that his wounds were mortal, he calmly replied, “I am glad of it.” The surgeons added that he didn’t have long to live. “So much the better,” Montcalm said gravely. “I am happy that I shall not live to see the surrender of Quebec.” His body was buried in a crater created by an exploded bombshell, a grim location of his own choosing.

  General James Wolfe

  Lieutenant General Louis-Joseph de Montcalm

  Battlefields Park’s concealed location and many hidden nooks and crannies have made it notorious for illicit activities such as duels, muggings and even executions. These dastardly doings have given the park a dark reputation. It’s believed that the most dangerous time to visit is September — not because of an increase in criminal activity, but an increase in paranormal activity.

  On cold nights in September, especially near the thirteenth and the anniversary of the battle that took place in 1759, the spirits of the fallen soldiers rise from the once blood-soaked ground to re-enact the warfare. People have smelled sulfur hanging heavily in the air and have heard cannons firing. Pallid-looking ghosts in eighteenth-century uniforms have been seen wandering the plain and rushing to and from the entrances to the tunnels beneath the park.

  Is it possible that General Wolfe and Lieutenant General Montcalm, two men who weren’t afraid of death, rise from their graves to lead
their spectral armies into battle on the anniversary of their battle? Go for a daytime stroll through Battlefields Park and take a good look at the grass beneath your feet. It is unnaturally green, particularly after September 13. Could it be that it’s not mere fertilizer that makes each blade so vivid and bright?

  GHOST TOWN TUNNELS

  Tranquille, British Columbia

  Fifteen minutes west of downtown Kamloops, British Columbia, in a scenic valley surrounded by water and trees and mountains, is a ghost town known as Tranquille. More than forty buildings have sat idle for years. Long ago they fell into disrepair and their boarded up doors and shattered windows have given the town a creepy, unwelcoming face. Even under the comfort of the midday sun, it’s easy to picture the many ghosts that have been seen here over the years. But if you enter one of the abandoned Tranquille buildings, the ghosts who dwell within might not be behind your back but below your feet.

  The town notorious for hauntings gets its ironic name from the Tranquille River, which flows into Kamloops Lake. In 1907 the Tranquille Sanatorium was built to treat people diagnosed with tuberculosis (or TB). TB was a widespread epidemic in the early 1900s and the sanatorium filled with patients so quickly that an entire town blossomed around it. There were homes, dormitories, a schoolhouse, a cafeteria, a gymnasium, a fire hall, a large laundromat, a cemetery … even farms and their own steam plant, making the town completely self-sustained. This was designed to minimize the town’s need to be in contact with the outside world. Simply put, people came to Tranquille to die.