Library Legends at Memorial University Campus
By Dale Jarvis
University students love an urban legend, and those at Memorial’s St. John’s Campus are no exception. Over the years, dozens of legends have been told and retold in late-night residence storytelling sessions, a tradition I suspect will not end anytime soon.
Apart from stories of suicides in the tunnels, and the tales of murdered corpses dumped in various ponds, no part of the university has gathered more urban legends than the large, sloped-roof Queen Elizabeth II Library at the heart of the campus.
No, the library is not built backwards, contrary to what some alumni might tell you. It was specifically designed that way by architect Charles Cullum.
“The building is tiered to get the most from the northern light,” explains the library’s 2014 annual report.
And no, the library is not slowly sinking under the tremendous weight of its books. If someone points you towards bookshelves kept empty to avert imminent disaster, don’t panic. That particular legend is told about libraries everywhere from Hamilton to San Diego, and none of those have sunk under the earth. Not yet, anyway.
On a more supernatural note, the QEII Library is also supposedly haunted by a bathroom ghost, often reported as haunting the ladies washroom on the 4th floor. Stories vary, but include accounts of washroom users hearing someone enter while they are in a stall, but then finding themselves alone when they exit out to the sinks. Others have experienced eerie or intense feelings in various library bathrooms, and there are rumours that visitors will sometimes catch the reflection of a woman standing behind them in a mirror, only to find no one there when they spin around.
In 2004, a folklore student told a researcher that the phantom is that of a woman whose office was once located on the fourth floor of the library, adding, “she retired and she died, but apparently they did renovations to the library and they moved, her office out of there altogether and put the ladies washroom there. And legend has it that she haunts that washroom.”
Friends trying to study on the fifth floor were once frustrated by someone in the next room making a racket, and called security to make a report. When they responded, there was, of course, no one in the next room.
A ghostly woman has also been seen wandering the stacks, tables, and quiet areas of the upper floors, described as a pale female figure in a long dress. This mysterious figure has been seen by students, faculty, and staff alike. Over time, she has acquired the nickname of “Mrs. Williams,” and is rumoured to be a university staff member who passed away just before the new library opened.
“They say that her ghost wanders the stacks at night,” an eyewitness writes.
A cleaner working the 11pm to 7am shift heard the elevator doors open on the fourth floor. A moment later, a woman appeared right next to the cleaner, looking lost. When the cleaner asked the woman what she was doing, she spoke, saying she was trying to find her way out.
“I almost hit you with my mop!” the cleaner said, and moved to stick it in their bucket. When they looked back a second later, the cleaner found themselves completely alone.
Not to be outdone by the library, the MUN Folklore and Language Archive in the Education Building may have acquired a ghost of their own. In 2020, a graduate assistant on her first day of work was sent down to the basement vault to sort through files.
Alone in the vault, she got busy sorting through papers. Then, the hair on the back of her neck stood up. She felt an impending sense of doom. The quiet hum of the room was suddenly alive with the sound of loud, clacking shoes pacing the floor, getting faster with each step. The assistant dropped her pencil and peeked down each aisle of the vault, finding them empty. She jammed the files back into their box and made her escape.
She has not been back to the vault since.
