HAUNTED LAWRENCE

Corbin Hall, perched majestically on the northeastern most spur of
Mount Oread, was originally opened in 1923 to meet the needs of
the University of Kansas’s growing female undergraduate population, and
today, the building still holds fast to its original mission, exclusively serving
women. For the almost one hundred years that it has been in service, the hall
has served as a temporary home for thousands of young students, but if the
stories are to be believed, a few of its former residents have declined to leave.
The hall’s origins date back to the dawning of the twentieth century.
During this time, the housing situation at the university was dismal, especially
for female students. After petitions in 1908 for an all-female dormitory fell
on the deaf ears of the university’s regents, a group of faculty, students and
alumni gathered to raise funds privately for such a building. The unofficial
leader of this movement was Dr. Alberta Corbin, a Yale-educated German
professor at the university.
The project to raise money stalled in the early 1910s, after the group
had only managed to amass $6,000 (a mere fraction of the money needed).
Refusing to back down, Corbin and the Kansas Council of Women
petitioned the state government in 1920 to appropriate money for the
building of all-female dorms at the various state universities. Soon, a bill
was passed that provided the University of Kansas with $150,000, which
the university used to build the first dorm on campus. This female-only
hall was named after Dr. Corbin (who, seemingly out of modesty, objected
to this decision).
HAUNTED LAWRENCE
Corbin Hall in the early twentieth century. Courtesy of the Kenneth Spencer Research Library.
In 1923, the hall welcomed its first cohort of young female residents.
Thanks to detailed notes recorded by Corbin’s early housemothers, we
know a great deal about early life at the hall. For instance, we know that
many women were forced to drop out in the early 1920s due to diseases like
the flu and tuberculosis. When the illnesses that plagued the students got
bad enough, the fourth floor of Corbin was transformed into a quarantined
sanatorium. This occurrence seemed to have spawned a rumor that many
young women died in this area, although historical records do not support
this story.
By the middle of the twentieth century, Corbin was overcrowded, and to
rectify this, a new building (originally called North College Hall but later
officially dubbed North Corbin) was erected in 1951. A few years later,
Gertrude Sellards Pearson (GSP) Hall opened right next door. In the 1990s,
the entire Corbin complex was modernized, making it more comfortable
for students. Today, the dormitory continues to only house women, largely
because the demand for all-female housing is still high.
During the last few decades, a popular story has been spread throughout
the hall that Corbin was the site of a brutal murder. According to the
tale, there were once two roommates—often given the names Abby and
Sara—who lived in the hall during some unspecified (usually pre-1965)
year. During the Christmas break, Abby and Sara were the only two left
50
HAUNTED LAWRENCE
in Corbin. Abby decided to go down into the basement to do her laundry.
Little did she know that a crazed janitor was lurking in the shadows. When
her back was turned, he lunged toward her and stabbed her a dozen times.
As a final act of depravity, he slit her throat and, believing her dead,
disappeared into the night.
Abby, however, did not die instantly. Somehow, she managed to cling to
life, and she dragged herself up the stairs to her room in a desperate attempt
to get help.
Meanwhile, Sara started to hear a strange gurgling and gasping sound
coming from the hall. Quite startled by these ominous sounds, she closed
her door. Soon, she began to hear scratching and banging at the door, as
if someone was trying to get in. Terrified, she shoved a desk in front of the
door and hid in the closet.
In the morning, Sara opened her door to find Abby’s corpse lying in a
pool of blood. It was only then that Sara realized that the gurgling she had
heard had been Abby’s futile effort at calling for help and that the scratching
and banging had been her feeble attempt to get Sara to come to her aid.
As a consequence of this murder, it is said that Abby’s spirit often
materializes in the building. Witnesses have claimed to see her ghost dragging
her bleeding and broken body up the stairs. In the dead of night, others have
heard scratching and banging at their doors, which they say is the miserable
specter of Abby, desperately trying to get someone—anyone—to help her.
For fans of urban legends, this story might sound somewhat familiar, as
it is a variation of a popular tale known to folklorists as “The Roommate’s
Death,” which has been told and retold on campuses across the United
States. Did this urban legend originate at the University of Kansas? Most
likely not. In 1969, Linda Dégh wrote an in-depth article titled “The
Roommate’s Death and Other Related Dormitory Stories in Formation,”
which examined several dozen recollections of the legend in chronological
order. According to Dégh, the earliest recorded version of the legend dates
to 1956 and was documented at the University of Indiana. This version is
similar to the version recounted here, with the exception that the victim is
found not with her throat slit but rather with a hatchet embedded in the
back of her skull. Dégh suggests that the first recorded instance of the tale
being explicitly set at the University of Kansas was in 1962. This version still
featured an axe or hatchet as the murder weapon, and it was only around
1965 that the legend started to feature the victim dying from exsanguination.
51
HAUNTED LAWRENCE
Because of Dégh’s work, most scholars reject that the story reflects any
sort of historical fact.* Instead, they argue that it functions as a cautionary
tale of some sort. Daniel Barnes suggested that the story is initiatory,
warning students that if they ignore or violate rules, “disaster ensues.”
Beverly Crane suggests that the myth stresses the idea that “if women
‘choose to venture into the realm of equality with men, they must become
less dependent, more self-sufficient, more confident in their own abilities
and, above all, more willing to assume responsibility for themselves and
others.’” Finally, Michael Carroll analyzes the story in regards to Freudian
psychology, arguing that it is “intended ‘to express in a disguised manner
[young women’s] fears and anxieties about the damage and pain they
associate with their first experience of heterosexual vaginal intercourse.’”
However, the Corbin-centric version of this myth is set apart from other
retellings by one key factor: its paranormal ending. Indeed, in almost all
other versions of the myth, the supernatural elements are completely
absent: there is no ghost that drags itself up the stairs, and there is no
spirit that claws at doors in the dead of night. Instead, other versions
of “The Roommate’s Death” play out more like slasher films, with the
focus being placed almost exclusively on the story’s disturbing—albeit not
paranormal—nature.
In the latter part of the twentieth century, the tale of Abby’s death seems
to have gone somewhat out of vogue. In its stead, a new rumor emerged
that an unidentified girl who once lived on the fourth floor killed herself in
her dorm room. After this grisly event—so the story goes—no one wanted
to live in her old room for fear of it being haunted, and so it was abandoned
and turned into a custodial closet. Historical records do not corroborate this
story, but there is a custodial closet on the fourth floor of Corbin that was
once possibly a dorm room.
In 2007, Jayplay reporter Jared Duncan, while exploring the fourth-floor
room for an exposé on the Corbin hauntings, claimed to have found a
whiteboard with the following message written on it: “Stop using my room.
This is where I took my life. Let me be.” Was this a genuine message from
beyond the grave or a joke played on a gullible reporter? Whether or not
the message was real, in the heat of the moment one can only assume that
Duncan was not laughing.
* According to the February 25, 1972 University Daily Kansas article “KU Folklore Includes a
Whale, Ghosts,” in the early 1960s, there was indeed a Lawrence janitor who was arrested
and convicted of murdering a young girl. However, the janitor did not work at Corbin, and
the victim did not live at the hall. Regardless, it is likely that this incident influenced the way
the urban legend was told.
52
HAUNTED LAWRENCE
Corbin Hall today. Author’s collection.
Several other bizarre happenings have been reported on the floor. While
playing with a Ouija board, Meg Werner and Marti Belot, former occupants
of the hall, claimed to have witnessed a mirror shatter and a strange ball of
light manifest before their very eyes. In an interview with the University Daily
Kansan, Werner said, “It was in [Belot’s] room [when the incident happened],
and all of the [sic] sudden, her mirror just shattered.…There was a white
orb in front of it.” Both Werner and Belot claim that the ball of light was the
spirit of the girl who committed suicide.
Werner’s sister, Annie, also had a rather otherworldly encounter several
years prior. Annie was spending time with one of her friends in her fourth
floor room when her door slammed shut. Upon investigation, there was no
one in the room or the hallway who could have caused the door to have acted
the way it did. That night, the door mysteriously slammed shut four times.
Each time, there was no one in the area that could have exerted enough
force on the door to cause it to close with such force.
Whether the legend of Abby or the unnamed girl who committed suicide
are real or not, one thing is for sure: they make for great stories. And
consequently, it is likely these legends will continue to be passed down from
one cohort of Corbin women to another.
53
HAUNTED LAWRENCE
Corbin Hall is located at 420 West Eleventh Street, on the northeastern
most corner of the main KU campus. Because it is a residence hall, one
must have the proper credentials to get inside the building, and as such,
attempting to enter the building without permission is highly discouraged.