These tales are taken from personal ac- counts, witness testimony, and convincing retellings. Any likeness is coincidental. For entertainment purposes only. Reader discre- tion is advised.
Showers running with nobody in the stall, Shadows that dart around corners, and childlike laughter in the late hours of the night; these are but a few examples of the rumors of Osceola-Keokuk Hall. The history of the Haskell campus is peppered with true tragedy. Unrest can be felt at times. OK Hall has its share of stories and rumors. Some say OK Hall is built on top of the original cemetery on campus. Others tell a tale a friendly staff member who, though deceased, continues to serve the campus. Secretly, some whisper of a door that leads to the dorm of a devilish entity.
Before OK Hall was built, the land was home to a cemetery that held the bodies of deceased Indigenous children. These children were taken from their homes and forced to assimilate into American culture. Their hair was cut and their language was banned. Many fell ill and died on this land in Lawrence, Kansas. The rumor is around the 1950’s the land where the original cemetery was located was selected to be the site of the building now known as OK Hall. The company commissioned to exhume the bodies and relocate them were corrupt. They cut corners. Old ones say that only the headstones were moved to their current location, but the remains of the deceased were left in the earth. The ground was flattened and founda- tion was laid over the bodies of the first generations of Haskell. Nobody asked questions and only whispers of the incompetent job remain.
In the 1980’s a male resident adviser was staying upstairs in the current OK Hall building. The student employee had his five year old son with him. In the middle of the day the boy would ride his three-wheeled plastic vehicle through the halls of the building. The narrow hallways made a miniature Tal- ladega for the tot. One day the resident advisor was is in his room with the door propped open. The man could hear his young son wheeling through the halls as usual. As he worked, he noticed his go abnormally fast passed the door. He heard his son’s squealing laughter as he accelerated. The man stared out the door as he watched his son push himself backward toward the end of the hallway. The boy bore a wide grin. It was then that the man witnessed his son speed past the door with a force no child could generate on its own. H stood up and walked outside the door. He looked down the hallway at his son who was now giggling hard and push- ing himself back to his starting point. “Are you alright?” The man asked his son. “I’m just playing with the old jani- tor man” replied the boy as he gestured to the end of the hall where he had been starting. “Oh! The old man is gone now! He probably had to go back to work” exclaimed the boy in disappoint- ment. A beloved member of the Haskell custodial team had died two weeks prior to this occurrence. The deceased is described as being an elderly man with a ring of white hair around his head. It is said he was fond of wearing a one- piece mechanic jumpsuit.
In the mid 90’s something dark and diabolical is rumored to have taken place in an unnamed room. In the witching hour of the night a large male student ran into the staff office downstairs. The student was wearing only his boxing shorts. He was sweating, panting, and visibly upset. The resident adviser asked what was going on. The student said he was sleeping in his bed when he saw something in the corner of his room. It was on the ceiling near the door. It was watching and taunting him. The thing hung darker than the night and appeared to be smiling at the young man. The student began to shout and yell for it to leave to which the shadow creature only grinned wider. The student began to hurl objects in its direction; shoes, books, clothes, and anything else within arm’s reach. The boy mustered up the strength and courage to run at the door and leave in haste. He ran without looking back to office where he was catching his breath. The resident adviser called for back-up. Together, the student and two staff members went back to the room. The decision was made to move the boy into a vacant room that night. They accompanied him to investigate the room and to help the student gather his belongings. Upon entering the dorm, the door did not fully open because of miscellaneous objects strewn across the linoleum floor. The room showed signs of panic. It reeked of sweat and fear. On the inside of the wood door, a grinning face dorm hell looked at the bunch. It was as if the door was made that way. The face was ingrained in the natural designs of the wood. The student gathered his belongings and moved into an- other room. The anonymous room was closed off. Sage was burned. Cleaning rituals were done. The door was taken off its hinges and thrown away.
On the day the new door came, a custo- dial member went to install it. Coincidentally, one of the staff members that had worked the night of the dark en- counter was present. The custodial staff came to the office soon after finishing the door mount. His eyes were wide and his complexion pale. “You have got to see this” he said in a whisper. The two men went to dorm room. They entered. The room was clean. It smelled fresh. The resident adviser asked what the problem was. The custodial staff member closed the door. On the inside of the door, the new door, was a face. The face was grinning at the men. The resident adviser recognized it. The dorm room was kept empty for years.
As the story goes, on a desperate occasion a decade later the room was opened. Amidst protests to keep it closed, the occupancy for the campus had been reached and there was no other choice. A student was put into the forbidden room. The student resident adviser had now become a salaried
staff member. He personally oversaw this occupancy. The student put in the room was an artist. He was an Indig- enous youth with true talent and a flare for gothic fashion. Though his look was dark, his demeanor was respectful and polite. After a few weeks the old resident adviser asked the student how the room was working out. The student arched his eyebrows suspiciously and grimaced. “Why do you want to know” he sneered. The student became more reclusive. His demeanor had changed. His artwork was gaining attention. They say he graduated Haskell and went on to become a very successful comic book artist. The room has not had an incident or occurrence since. Maybe he took whatever was in that room with him.
Fear not friends. These are simply tales and rumors. Sleep well.
If you or someone you know has had a paranormal, supernatural, or preternatural experience at Haskell Indian Nations Uni- versity and would like to share your story please contact Joe Singh at joseph.singh@ haskell.edu
