Off of Lake Superior’s frigid
waters, the cold winds of fall blow into
Marquette Harbor. The universal
feeling of good times and cool weather fill the heart of anyone who has
experienced the wonders of a Midwest
autumn. The color of the trees change
like a flowing wave across the mountains of the Western Upper Peninsula.
However, with this change comes the
eerie feeling of an ever-approaching
winter, bringing with it darker nights
and whistling winds howling at glass
window panes deep into the night.
For some, the fun of Halloween
follows behind the spirit of autumn’s
bright orange leaves and crystal waters. Ending with a cozy bed and the
taste of cheap candies still on their
lips, many sleep soundly. For some, the
ghouls and goblins of Halloween night
aren’t stored in a cardboard box in the
basement. The spirits of the dead
eternally wander the planet. Evil spirits
distort the good in the world and suck
the happiness out of the nooks they
inhabit. Finding their place in the
forgotten, phantoms roam the formerly
bustling cities, stone buildings and the
dark depths of Lake Superior’s icy grip.
The perfectly manicured town of
Marquette holds beneath its warm
glow, like any city of its age, a storied
past only extended by its industrial nature and its sheltered port since
the mid-1800s. A welcoming sight
for many sailors that had braved the
wicked waves in route to pick up ore,
the city has offered refuge for many
ships and crewman throughout its history. For some, it was a destination
never reached. Lake Superior’s cold
rains and fast winds have pulled many
ships down into her frozen abyss, leaving the souls of her victims forever
searching through the dark.
Marquette was built around the
industrial veins that flowed through it,
having been one of the few cities cut
into the rocky shore. Buildings made of
brick and stone were built to support
the growing demands of the ore trade.
The needs of yesteryear solidified the
foundation of what we see today, but
have left the whispers of the forgotten.
Their stories still float through the halls
they used to inhabit.
The city’s unique position in the
history of the Great Lakes region has
left its mark, and with it comes the
memories of a city surpassed by efficiency. Ships that come to port no
longer stay for days at a time and what
is left of the bustling lower harbor rusts
into the horizon. Pleasure craft and
sailboats avoid the ruins of the once
great wooden docks in the shallow
waters. Historic buildings are now filled
to the brim with modern business and
gift shops alike.
Having been built upon tenfold, the
necessity of a rugged northern town no
longer exists as Marquette has evolved
into a modern city, but its history
still shines through. In the mists, the
basements and in the crisp autumn
air some could swear the past lives on.
Those who never left carry on eternally
to the people who know what to look
for, and find those who don’t…
Marquette Harbor Light
Standing proud on its point overlooking Lake Superior, the bright red building is as unmistakable as
its light blazing into the darkness. Marquette Lower Harbor is a beacon of hope for those who have
weaved through Lake Superior’s icy grip. Although it may show the end of a long journey for some,
the lighthouse itself is the start for others. On one of the various tours available throughout the day,
tourists will be told of the little girl who haunts the building. Many find the story entertaining of a
happy ghost and laugh as they walk the west staircase only to find at the bottom an oily, tiny bare
footprint soaked into the wooden floor boards. The sight, however convincing, leaves
even the most skeptical with a chill running up their spine and fearful wonder in
their heart.
The Landmark Inn
This world is not short of haunted hotels and the City of Marquette is no exception. The
haunting at the Landmark Inn is known by almost any local as it is sewn into the fabric of
Marquette folklore. Travel Marquette’s website said the Landmark Inn is one of the most
haunted places in town and the ghost of a woman whose lover never came back to port
still haunts the Lilac Room. Waiting for his return, she haunts the sixth floor, leaving all
who encounter her ghostly figure with a memory they will not soon forget. With its location
downtown, its popularity is unwavering. A distinguishable feature visible from the top of
Sugarloaf Mountain, the Landmark Inn is part of the ghost stories that are solidified into
the history of this town.
The Former Holy Family Orphanage
Built in the early 1900s, the old brick building stands tall at the corner of Fisher and
Altamont Street. Now fully renovated into an apartment building, the new windows and
updated landscape sit as a wallpaper over its ominous looks. A website that looks at
reclaiming buried history, substreet.org, said the orphanage was staffed by Catholic nuns
and took in younger children. There are many claims across sources that say the nuns
running the facility took a much harsher approach to teaching the children lessons than
would have been necessary. If scary old nuns isn’t enough to freak you out, then the floor
plan surely will. Built like a maze, the building reportedly has little natural light and strange
rooms that only add to its mysterious allure.
Northern Michigan University
For the most part, all of us here at NMU have called a dorm room
home, been to a play at the Forest Roberts Theatre or walked past Lee
Hall’s empty windows. Some buildings are newer than others but it seems
like the older they are, the more their legends live on. Lee Hall, having no
legitimate scary story behind it other than its abandonment, is known to be
haunted if you were to ask one of the many residents of the attached Spooner Hall.
Halverson Hall was known to have a haunting on the third floor, but its demolition leaves you
wondering what happened to the ghost that occupied it. But the most convincing are the stories
from the Forest Roberts Theatre. According to legend and tales, an old janitor still haunts the
theater—sending elevators up and down with nobody in them.
