The Sound of Silence: Ghost Hunting in Notre Dame’s Dark Stairwells

Step with me into the shadows of history and architecture as we embark on a haunting journey to unravel the mysteries surrounding the legendary Ghost of Notre Dame. No, not the Notre Dame Cathedral in Paris where the infamous hunchback and monstrous gargoyles, silent witnesses to the supernatural, could be found, but rather the University of Notre Dame in South Bend, Indiana.

The hushed discussions about this prestigious school with high academic standards and rigorous programs were a grown-up conversation often heard after we were sent to bed.

One morning, we were suddenly faced with the statement that Mom and Dad would be taking the three eldest children to Notre Dame for the weekend. The questions swirled in our heads: why us?

What did we do right? Or what if there's something wrong that we did?

The 100-mile drive rolled on and on as the townscapes flew by, and anticipation and nerves wound together as we sat in the car, our hearts racing with a mix of anxiety and excitement, embarking on this new journey.

We discovered that this voyage had nothing to do with us but rather a marriage retreat for our parents. For those of you who don't know, a marriage retreat is an opportunity for couples to take a breather from their day-to-day activities and think about the marriage, share their experiences with others of the same faith, and reflect on their life.

While our parents were in workshops or group discussions during this retreat, we were housed in a dorm room. Perched atop a spiral staircase, the dorm room unfolded—a minimalist space adorned with three single beds and illuminated by a solitary light from overhead and a lone window at the end of the room.

Our responsibility was specific, "watch each other," "be good," and an additional explicit instruction to "stay in our room." Equipped with a diverse assortment of captivating books, we settled in our nook to immerse ourselves in our reading.

With the transition from daylight to dusk, a vast thunderstorm slowly approached, enveloping the surroundings in an impending atmosphere. As our gaze shifted from the pages of our book, we saw shadows and silhouettes stretching across the landscape. Intrigued, we succumbed to our curiosity, and the creaking of the door hinge led us into an expansive corridor lined with closed doors on either side, with a lone window beckoning at the end of the dimly lit hallway. Next to the window was another spiral staircase calling the three of us.

Now, picture yourself in this situation. What would you bring along? Perhaps your cherished and well-worn stuffed friend? A security blanket from years gone by? How about a trusty flashlight?

Not us; the sole object that caught our attention was a colorful, 12-inch round ball, and as we bounced it down the hall, the sound echoed off the walls. We discussed numerous topics among ourselves:

·   What time was it?

·   Why Mom and Dad weren't back yet?

·   Why were there so many rooms and no sound coming from any of them?

Thump, thump, thump, the ball goes as the questions continue: what ghostly legends can be found in these dark walls? What if Mom and Dad were lost? When do we eat? Where does that lone staircase go?

With youth's boundless curiosity and imagination, we set aside our worries and queries. Playfully, we kicked the ball down the hall, tossing it back and forth. Then, one unnamed sister seized the ball and hurled it with the intensity of a dodgeball match. Though the dodge was successful, the ball tumbled relentlessly down, down, down the spiral steps, disappearing into the dark abyss below.

The collective gasps were palpable. 

Oh no! Who's going to go down that dark stairwell? Our collective hearts were pounding at the speed of light. We linked arms as we slowly encouraged our feet to walk to the head of the stairs! Lions and tigers and bears, Oh my!! Strange noises and whispers emanated from the dark as if we awoke the monster below. They/it was alive as the lights started flickering and the hall was as cold as ice! We froze at the top of the stairs. Decision Time. Go! No, you go! Not me. We tried pulling rank, discussed drawing straws, and even threatened to "tell mom!"

Finally, with the collective intelligence and skills of the trio, we focused on the single goal of "retrieval at all costs," the ball was as good as safely back in our room.

One stood guard against imagined foes, one took up the arms of verbal encouragement towards success, and the third walked slowly and gingerly down those spiral stairs, the feeling of the cold, hard floor beneath the feet while walking down the spiral staircase to retrieve the lost ball.

Returning to our room with exhilarating triumph, we were relieved that the mischievous spirits hadn't relinquished their hiding spots. Armed with newfound wisdom, we realized that not even the enduring allure of the ghosts of Notre Dame could overshadow us when we united as a team of superheroes.

I believe that Mom and Dad's fateful retreat offered them the experience they were looking for. They learned the importance of teamwork and family bonds...and so did we.