Over generations, ghost stories have been shared among students and teachers at SMUS. It is said that one cannot walk the Richmond Road campus without a ghost story lingering somewhere in view. As a boarding student, I remember older prefects regaling us with these tales which we repeated to each other long after the houseparents thought we were asleep. After hearing them so often in my youth, these stories are now etched in my memory.
While stories like these are typically passed down to thrill or scare each other, they also carry a unique value for a school like ours: a recognition of the community's heritage. Students and teachers are able to become larger than life, and sometimes, school values are highlighted within these tales. At the very least, ghost stories say, we are an old, established place with deep roots.
Past Headmaster John Schaffter once responded to a newspaper article about the our ghosts, saying: “Every school of character and antiquity, of course, cherishes its legends, and it is perhaps significant that the so-called ghosts referred to were those of the most distinguished men associated with University School: Captain Harvey, one of the founding fathers, and John J. Timmis, who, during his 22 years as Headmaster, carried the school from near extinction to a position of eminence among independent schools.”
With Halloween around the corner and the mist setting in, I thought I would share the school’s ghost stories as I remember them, following a path from the entrance to the Richmond Road campus off McCrae Ave.
Mr. Timmis and the Housekeeper
Reynolds House, the gracious residence on the right as you enter the main school driveway, has traditionally been home to the Head of School. JJ Timmis was Headmaster for 22 years, leaving an indelible impact. If stories are to be believed, his presence lingered even after he passed, disturbing new residents, especially the housekeeper. The famous moment was when she, in a thick Scottish accent, scolded the specter at the top of the stairs, “Mr. Timmis! You are not supposed to be here!” Whether this was apocryphal or not, several newspaper articles reported it. There’s no word on whether he has since moved to the new Timmis House.
The Dead Rugby Player
As autumn evenings settle in Victoria, our school fields often become blanketed in a beautiful, eerie mist. Before the internet, boarders entertained themselves playing “flashlight tag” in this mist. One night, a boy spotted a lone figure on the field. He shined his flashlight on him and yelled, “Tag.” No reaction. “Tag! I got you!” But as he approached, the figure, standing still, seemed to drift further away, head tilted at an unnatural angle. Later, he saw the figure lying on a bench. When he recounted the story to his house prefects, they told him of “the dead rugby player,” who broke his neck in a scrum and now haunts the fields on misty nights. (No rugby players were actually harmed in the making of this legend.)
Captain Harvey’s Ghost
Our most famous ghost, Captain Harvey, was one of University School’s founders. His letter to students is read annually at our Remembrance Day Service, in which he wrote, “my heart is all with the old school, now as always.” Perhaps boarders, telling tales late at night, were inspired by this, or perhaps the tales are true. Captain Harvey was said to wander the dorms of the old Harvey House (where the Science Block now stands), watching over the boys’ safety. Whether he has made his way to the current Harvey House remains unknown.
Ghostly Music
Where the Sun Centre and Schaffter Hall stand now, once stood the Challenor Building, the main classroom building before Crothall and the Science Block were built. For years, the attic was locked. Legend has it that a music teacher died while playing a piano up there. Late at night, it was said, his music could still be heard: from below if you were upstairs, from above if you were downstairs. It’s speculated that the custodial staff played their own music loudly while cleaning at night to cover the sounds of the haunting piano.
School House
School House, our oldest building, is understandably rife with ghost stories. However, if ghosts were real, it is unlikely they would still haunt School House, as its structure is entirely different now. Only the outer bricks and ivy remain from the original building; the entire inner frame is now reinforced concrete. The Bell Tower, once boarded up and filled with decades of graffiti and junk, has been opened with glass and light. Perhaps this removed the mystery—and any ghosts or lingering energy—while also erasing a small piece of history. However, here is a collection of School House ghosts:
- Once, a bell in the bell tower rang incessantly. When a fireman raised his head into the tower, the ringing stopped. When he ducked back down, it resumed. Apparently, an exorcist was called to settle the matter.
- A math teacher once had several doors slam shut on him late at night. He never went above the bottom floor again (this was before the math department was in School House).
- A small portrait of Captain Harvey must, according to legend, hang on a wall at the school to prevent a school-wide curse. Some boys who had snuck into the bell tower were using a Ouija board, jokingly calling on spirits. When one boy asked who would be the next victim, the board spelled out his name; rumor has it he withdrew from the school shortly afterward.
The Junior School and Middle Schools
At the moment, the Middle School is only haunted by digging, compacting and hammering of the new construction project but they know it is worth it when the addition emerges from the earth. Junior School has no ghosts at all and is not scary or haunted in any way! As Director Becky Anderson pointed out: “there is only beautiful ghost related art down here!” She has kindly provided us with some examples.
Of course, this is all in good fun. As John Schaffter went on to write in the newspaper article: “Personally, I would count it an honour if someday I were considered worthy to emulate [Harvey and Timmis] in haunting SMUS’ hallowed halls… I do not propose to be a solitary sprite: I shall be accompanied by three hobgoblins, two leprechauns, a gremlin, and a small, plump red dragon – the latter of course firmly on a leash.”
