Ïã¸ÛÁùºÏ²Ê¿ª½±½á¹û

In a region known for its witchy history and ghostly lore, Endicott has managed to escape the spooky spotlight—until now.

This story was originally published on Oct. 15, 2021, and was updated on Oct. 27, 2023, and October 18, 2024.

In a region known for its witchy history and ghostly lore, Ïã¸ÛÁùºÏ²Ê¿ª½±½á¹û has managed to escape the spooky spotlight—until now.

“I always say that Salem, and that includes Beverly, is one of the most haunted locations in the country,” said Sam Baltrusis, bestselling author of “” and a paranormal expert who has been featured on TV shows including the Travel Channel’s A Haunting, Most Terrifying Places, Haunted Towns, and Haunted USA.

While Salem continues to lure throngs of tourists each Halloween, Beverly was once a part of Salem, and Endicott’s campus is even bordered by what’s called Witches Woods—a name earned in the 17th century when accused witches fled from their prosecutors.

“I believe the Salem witch hysteria left a psychic imprint on the land and the residual energy continues to replay over and over,” continued Baltrusis. “Because of Salem’s history, I think many of the walking ghost tours continue to stir the cauldron and give energy to the hauntings.”

But ghost tales at Endicott are nothing new. During past Halloweens, students used to gather outside to hear spine-chilling supernatural stories. Victoria Fraser ’18 has been sharing some of those spooky stories on her blog, , since graduating.

“The haunted lore was known among everyone as soon as I started at Endicott,” said Fraser. “I heard my fair share of experiences over the years—everyone seemed to have at least one story.”

Endicott’s haunted houses

Ask around about haunted happenings at Endicott, and Reynolds Hall is the most common answer.

It’s said that a young spirit haunts the towering yellow manse, now a residence hall. Prior to its acquisition by Endicott, the building was first a private home and later the site of the Kendall Hall School for Girls.

Students have reported the spirit of a young girl watching from the stairwell or have seen her reflected in mirrors. Other students have felt watched by someone unseen, and lights have been known to turn on and off, along with blinds opening and closing on their own, furniture inexplicably moved, and more.

A former Gull even recalled the computer screens lighting up in the middle of the night, what sounded like marbles rolling across the floors, and creepy noises—as if someone was walking to the bathroom, but all the roommates were sound asleep in their beds.

For Janice (Mattson) McKearney ’85, one Saturday night in Reynolds lives on in her memory.

“Most of the people in the dorm left for the weekend, and the few of us there decided to explore,” she recalled. “We wanted to check out the attic.” 

McKearney and her friends found the attic door in the ceiling of the third-floor hallway. “We stacked a chair on a desk and climbed up. As the first person bravely lifted themselves up and was almost in, the doorbell started ringing,” she said. “It was quick and ongoing, unlike any regular visitor would do—persistently and nonstop.”

Everyone ran downstairs to answer the door. “We were joking about making the ghosts mad,” she said. “But once we got to the door, no one was there. The ringing stopped and we moved the desk and chairs back to their respective rooms and never tried to explore the attic again.”

Baltrusis’ favorite campus ghost is the Pink Lady, who purportedly haunts Winthrop Hall.

“The legend is that all of the paintings in the house turned upside down when she died, and a lady wearing a pink dress has been spotted by faculty and students over the years,” he explained.

Years ago, Baltrusis led tours on a ferry that passed Winthrop Hall, which overlooks Salem Harbor.

“I’d always look up at beautiful Winthrop Hall from the water, hoping to see the Pink Lady. No luck. But the people who’ve seen her say she’s very welcoming and is a benevolent spirit.”

In the 1950s, then 7-year-old Priscilla Tupper, the daughter of Eleanor Tupper (one of the four founders of Endicott), supposedly happened upon the spirit one evening. 

Though Eleanor had heard of hauntings within the building, these stories were never shared with young Priscilla. Donning a blue gown, the female spirit rounded the corner of the veranda and approached Priscilla. She wasn’t scared—not at first—because the ghost appeared very real.

However, as the spirit neared, Priscilla noticed that she was unusually quiet and seemed to be floating rather than walking. When she saw that the woman had no legs, Priscilla dashed from the porch.

Pink Lady, Blue Lady, White Lady—depending on who you talk to, the Winthrop Hall spirit goes by many names. She’s been seen descending the stairs in a pink gown at parties, gazing out of a window toward the sea while wearing white, and even strolling the oceanside with her gown trailing behind her.

But even now when you walk into Winthrop Hall, you’ll encounter one stark quirk: The painting in the foyer is upside down.

And if someone tries correcting it, they’ll find that in the morning the items in their room have been rearranged and that the painting has righted itself—upside down, of course.

“Do I think there’s a spirit haunting Winthrop?” wondered Baltrusis. “I do, but I believe there’s more to her story and she’s sticking around until we tell it correctly.”

Curiouser and curiouser

Over in Tower Hall, many alumni have reported hearing strange sounds, including a basketball bouncing on the second floor—when no one else was in the building.

But perhaps the eeriest part of Brindle Hall lore is the trees outside the building, whose branches have been known to spell out the lingering student’s name: Julie.

Just ask Fraser.

“I worked at Endicott one summer between freshman and sophomore year when the campus became a hotel through Misselwood,” she recalled. As part of the job, she’d audit empty dorm rooms and count the beds in each.