Every time I recall this story, I can’t sleep for at least two days after. Imagine our mother, Kenyon College, washed in warm light. The trees lining middle path are shaggy green. The student body has gone to summer in upstate New York or somewhere on the coast of Massachusetts or got an internship like a reasonable person. It’s the summer of 1995. Gambier is sleepy, but one building is full of activity.
Caples has been checked and locked down for the night, but lights and showers have been unexpectedly coming on throughout the day despite the vacancy of the building. At 5 a.m. safety officer Dan Turner recieved a call from switchboard operator, Jolynn Bryant. Three phone calls from Caples had come in rapid succession from rooms 511, 611, and 711. Each time she heard a woman scream and hang up. The sound was not mechanical but decidedly human. Safety officers arrived on the scene and another call came in from room 811. This time the voice on the other line did not scream. Instead, it breathed heavily, wimpered, and choked out the phrase “How was your weekend?”
It’s the Monday Catchup.
“I saw a baby llama taken from its mother and then returned.”
The Kenyon Thrill 