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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required Home to President Woodrow Wilson Ivy scaled Monmouth’s outer walls Laughter of youth from decades past Resonated in marble-floored halls The theater building was set apart Further down Cedar Avenue Another spirit stalked the stage Where college actors made debuts A gift from the Monmouth Race Park Actors’ dressing rooms were stalls Where a stealthy ghost spied silently As thespians answered cue calls Arriving early one April night Eager to recite the witty lines Of “Blithe Spirit’s” Madam Arcati Rehearsing her séance foremost in my mind In character I asked, “Is anyone there?” Was it a true spirit who answered? A short young man swept down the aisle Stage lights my vision hampered “Hello,” I called as he disappeared Into the workroom below the stage For a moment I stood frozen Losing my place on the script’s page Curious, I followed his path But the work area was empty Where did he go? Whom did I see? Unanswered questions tormented me A bit of fear entered my heart To doors above the seats I raced No one else was in the theater My terror was not misplaced But as I opened the door to leave Professor Harrison entered Stunned, I gasped, and he had to ask “What’s wrong?” (I was usually centered.) “A man came in as I rehearsed,” I panted, “wearing a shiny hat And a jacket of dark blue satin. He vanished, gone, just like that.” My mentor grinned as I composed “Believe me, what I’m saying’s true.” Harrison smiled and said calmly “Huh, I guess you saw him, too.” I wasn’t first, perhaps not last To see the lost jockey searching For the stable that held his steed As the great race was approaching *October 16, 2014 True story. It turned out many students had seen this jockey's ghost. Professor Harrison worked on set construction and I could sometimes hear him talking to the "ghost." Happy Halloween!
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