The Dartmouth Mirror 10/30/15

MIRROR 10.30.2015

sexy costumes strike back|2

ttlg: making friends with the d-plan|3

united states of halloween|4-5

a ghoul at our school|6 Shuoqi Chen/THE DARTMOUTH STAFF

2// MIRROR

Sexy Costumes Strike Back

EDITORS’ NOTE

Cat, Nurse, Nun — Take Your Pick!

SOng

B y Mary Liza hartong

Since the very first Halloween, people around the globe have always found ways to sexify everyday costumes — nurse, cat, witch, what have you. With a snip, snip here and a snip, snip there, that playful pumpkin becomes one steamy gourd. Others can’t help but shout, “Give me a load of that seed!” For the people and animals these sensual costumes imitate, however, Halloween can truly be a scary time. Here to talk about it are the costumes themselves. ’Twas the night before Halloween, when all through the dorm Many creatures were stirring for that was the norm.

Sophomore Maddie and Maggie all dressed to the nines, Wore silver and neon — damn, they looked fine.

With four other friends, they decided to dress, Like four different elements — from the periodic table, no less.

Silver and gold, neon and copper; They would look so fine as they party-hopper.

When all of the sudden, Maddie pulled out a mask, She was going to be a zombie who carried a flask.

The group of elements all went different places, And throughout the night, they put on different faces.

Now let us give you some old-lady advice, Don’t wear group costumes, they never end nice.

PB without J and Phil without Gail, Just makes you a loser, when all your friends bail.

So happy Halloween to all and to all a good night, But first read The Mirror, we’ll give you a fright.

From ghosts of Panarchy to ghosts tours — so neat!

You should read ever y word, Bon Appetit!

— Ol Mads and Lil Mags

follow @thedmirror

MIRROR R MIRROR EDITORS MADDIE BROWN MAGGIE SHIELDS EDITOR-IN-CHIEF KATIE McKAY PUBLISHER JUSTIN LEVINE EXECUTIVE EDITORS LUKE McCANN JESSICA AVITABILE

From: Ginger the cat To: All sexy cats Okay, okay I get it. Cats are sexy. Everybody knows that. Take a look at this hot piece of pussycat. Just saying, there’s a reason we eat Friskies. You come over, you’re gonna get a Fancy Feast.

But year after year I get a little tired of you guys running around town with your whiskers and pointy ears. Listen, we’re more than just some hot tails. The Egyptians worshipped us, for meowing out loud! You know what’s sexy about cats? We self-clean, we bring home our own bacon and we star in hit musicals by Andrew Lloyd Webber. So when you think about leaving the house looking like sexy us, go home with your tail between your legs, you dog!

From: Pam the nurse To: All sexy nurses Please fill out these forms, and I’ll be right with you. No sir, swallowing gum won’t kill you. No ma’am you’re not a Cancer, you’re a Libra. I said you have cancer. Oh, so you think you can be a nurse? You think you can draw blood from a squirming child and wrestle Blue Cross Blue Shield on the phone at the same time?

Go right ahead, tootz. Make my day. Here, take these Winnie the Pooh scrubs and these extra-cushioned arch support sneakers.

Let me tell you a little something about nursing, you hooligan.

Strutting around in your candy stripper rags does not make you sexy. Saving lives makes you sexy. Noodle on that, hon. MR. WILKERSON? WILKERSON? You’re next!

From: Sister Meredith To: All sexy nuns Bless you my children. I don’t have candy, no. That’s the devil’s food. Lifesavers? More like Lifeenders. But I do have communion wafers, sweetened with the Lord’s love. And to all you young women showing a lot of ankle and wrist this Hallow’s Eve, I pray for you.

Do you think a vow of chastity is easy? Nunsense! You think I didn’t have the hots for Father McDonaugh 20 years ago? Have you seen the abs on Jesus? The only thing I finger each night is my rosary. My eye of the needle hasn’t had a camel come through in decades. So pull up your stockings and hail a few Marys, and whatever you do stop licking that cross.

From: Carl the Toaster To: Anyone who will listen Hello boys, it’s me, Carl, the toaster. I know you guys like to do the shirtless firefighter to show off your big hose and the sexy mailman to deliver your special package, but I’m still hot stuff.

Um, you know, you can get me at Walmart for real cheap, around

’16: “What happens if you put hand sanitizer on your feet?”

“Something someone said Gov. Prof: funny “Iraq was a representative in democracy...

Collis that one —Drunk one but night.” it only represented person.”

17

ELIZA McDONOUGH / THE DARTMOUTH SENIOR STAFF

Mary Liza and Andrew show off their sexy Halloween costumes. $22.50 with a coupon. I got those two slots for your bread, which is convenient. What else? Oh, I use up approximately 600-12,00 Watts, so I know what’s up! That’s a toaster joke we toasters enjoy.

Anyway, I’d really appreciate it if one of your guys dressed up as me for Halloween. Just turn me on, and in three to five minutes, BING, you’ve just been toaster strudelled. Oh shucks Carl, just stick with the watt puns.

From: Blue Balls the Pirate To: All sexy pirates Are you ready kids?

“Aye aye captain!”

I can’t hear you!

“Aye aye captain!

Ohhhhhhhhhhh Who’s doomed to scurvy and a watery grave?

BLUE BALLS THE PIRATE Starving and thirsty in a desert of waves BLUE BALLS THE PIRATE If fetishizing sea-killers is something you wish BLUE BALLS THE PIRATE Stop chanting my name you monstrous man-fish!

BLUE BALLS THE PIRATE ARRRRRRRGH! BLUE BALLS THE PIRATE BLUE BALLS THE PIRATE BLUE BALLS THE PIRATE Ah hah hahaha (begins sobbing) take me now scurvy!

Adult in Novack: “I think I went through daylight savings two decades ago and just never recovered.”

’18 on FFB: “It’s not even May, why is that thing even up?”

Other ’18: “It’s for Day of the Dead, not Cinco de Mayo…”

’19: “Are you going to the somehighlighter party tonight?” “Something Student: “Ifunny have three beers on my Other ’19: “No. Heorot is a place onebody.” said in Collis that one of hot, sweaty, moist gyration.” night.” —Drunk 17 Check out Overheards and Trending@Dartmouth on

MIRROR //3

Through The Looking Glass:

Trending D @ RTMOUTH

Making Friends with the D-Plan COLUMN

B y PENELOPE WILLIAMS

For ’16s, this is the first time we’re all — more or less — on campus together since the 20122013 school year. My first night back this fall, fresh of f the Dar tmouth Coach and still lugging my duf fels, I had dinner at Molly’s to celebrate a friend’s bir thday. As a closet socially anxious person, this was the perfect way to star t the term. I maybe not-so-secretly have the constant niggling worr y that nobody likes me, and I should just go eat some worms. So having plans for a social gathering the minute I got here was comforting.

After three years, I feel like I have networks — plural — of people to turn to and be with, and that’s a beautiful thing. Surprisingly, though, it’s not together ness that’s fueled my happiness — it’s separation. It’s the D-Plan.

I met a ’16 I’d never seen before at that Molly’s dinner and have since spent time getting to know her one-on-one. She’s interesting and fun, and I’m glad that almost all of the senior class is on campus so that we managed to overlap.

That being said, my friends are all here and so are hers. Our friend groups contain many of the same people — hence our meeting. We aren’t traveling outside of our comfor t zones in the slightest by befriending one another. It’s not a bad thing, but it’s led me to evaluate the terms when that’s not been the case. Because of the crazy, whirlwind, isolating D-Plan,

I’ve had terms where the friendships I spent more than a year cultivating were suddenly longdistance. I’ve had terms where only a few of my closest friends remain on campus, and vir tually all of my larger-circle friends are gone. The star t of those terms felt like free-falls, like freshman fall all over again. Who would I spend time with? Classes would star t, and I’d feel like all I had to do ever y day was work, eat and sleep.

Then, suddenly and usually at random, what I call “term friends” would come out of the woodwork.

That girl I sat next to in class, met that day on the Green or shared a mutual friend with was a stranger one day and my closest confidant the next. Because of those term friends, I tried new things — I rock climbed (poorly, and indoors) and discussed wild drugs (that I never took) and got funky piercings (that my dad didn’t end up killing me for). What distinguished these friends from my usual companions were their personality types — that is, we didn’t always quite match up the way that I would with a close friend. We didn’t always run in the same crowds or at the same places in a way that makes me wonder — if my best friends had been on campus any of those terms, would I have bothered to put the ef for t in with those term friends? If I hadn’t been forced out of my comfor t zone, would I

have ventured willingly?

The D-Plan has gotten a bad rap for many reasons, chief among them that it tears people apar t, putting best friends and significant others across the globe from one another to create a lonely 10 weeks. But I’m contemplating the flip side: that loneliness can not only foster new friendships, but also create an enduring sense of strength and independence.

With each new term without all my friends came a small but noticeable change — instead of feeling anxious about my social life, I felt excited. The Dar tmouth Coach would circle the Green and, over several terms, the pit in my stomach shrank and my thoughts shifted from who wasn’t there to who was. I was inevitably going to meet new people — people different from me in myriad ways, and some of them would become vehicles of exploration. Aside from being just plain fun to hang around with, they allowed me to explore new personality types, new ways of thinking and (excuse my cheesiness) my own sense of self. I could sur vive and even enjoy terms where the people I depended on were of f-campus, leading me to one clichéd and saccharine conclusion — I could depend on myself.

As a school, we talk a lot about finding a home on campus, being grounded and spreading our roots. This is all well and good, and

there is undeniable value in having places, activities and people to rely on and revel in. But as I told the ’16 friend from my Molly’s dinner, I found a home in myself. Okay, ever yone commence throwing up in your mouths a little bit and come back when you don’t want to punch me. And exercise your self-control because I promise, despite sounding like the sequel song to “Kumbaya,” I am not an overly warm-and-fuzzy person.

I am, on the other hand, a big proponent of self-empowerment — in this case especially, since figuring out that I can be happy on my own will stay with me long after college.

One of my best friends, who also happens to have star ted as a term friend, likes to discourage the idea that relationships with friends or significant others create happiness. She’ll get really close to me and whisper-yell, “Make your own happiness!” The clear bonding oppor tunities whisperyelling in close proximity presents notwithstanding, I appreciate the message. Star ting over, striking out on my (or your!) own, can be a gift. I don’t always stay close with my term friends, and I always miss and love my best friends, but the sentiment remains powerful for me. I am my own home base, no matter where I am or who I’m with, and I’m not sure I would have discovered that without the D-Plan.

harvard game Are you on the bus?

Halloweekend The only time when Dartmouth’s flair obsession is partially normal.

Being a hot mess

You think you’re not, but you are.

Everyone is.

The World Series

You finally figure out who in your friend group is secretly from Kansas City.

Stacks Annex B And not because it’s part of the Dartmouth Seven.

Phil Hanlon on yik yak Enough of the ‘stache.

Rain, Rain Go away.

Please? ...PLEASE!

ELIZA McDONOUGH / THE DARTMOUTH SENIOR STAFF

Penelope Williams ’16 discusses how the D-Plan forced her to branch out, make new friends and become more comfortable in her own skin.

4// MIRROR

United States

story

Children amble around, clad in costumes resembling pumpkins, angels and superheroes, lugging enormous pillowcases or orange plastic bins filled to the brim with candy. Elsewhere, older adolescents and adults host costume parties where they play spooky music and ser ve drinks called “The Vampire’s Kiss” and “Witch’s Brew.”

Others watch movies like “Halloweentown” (1998) and “Harr y Potter” while munching on candy corn.

Everywhere, decorated pumpkins — with designs var ying from basic to ornate — are visible on houses’ steps and porches, glowing from within by authentic, or electric, candlelight. Other decorations include cobwebs covering bushes, fake gravestones placed sporadically throughout yards and skulls lining stone walkways.

Such a scene is quite typical for people who grew up in the United States. In fact, the vast majority of us have likely participated in trick-or-treating or attended a Halloween party.

Halloween, however, is uniquely celebrated in the United States, and the same traditions do not necessarily hold true for international students. Without being accustomed to such traditions, one might see our enthusiastic celebrations as bizarre or even outlandish.

Mahnoor Maqsood ’18, who is originally from Pakistan, said that although Halloween didn’t exist where she grew up, she was familiar with the holiday through exposure to Western media. It wasn’t a total “culture shock,” when she first experienced Halloween in college, she said, but it was unusual.

One of the only experiences Maqsood had with the holiday before coming to Dartmouth was during her high school years,

when her swim coach — who was from the U.S. — would host a “Halloween”-themed practice where Maqsood and her teammates had to dress up. Maqsood said this was probably the only time she ever wore a costume for the holiday before coming to the College.

Maqsood said that the rare Halloween celebrations that do occur in Pakistan are ver y subtle.

“Even if people do kind of celebrate it, it’s done on a ver y, ver y private and small scale — it’ll just be that you and your friends dress up and have a party together, something small,” Maqsood said.

Lloyd May ’18, who is originally from Carletonville, South Africa, said the case is similar in her hometown. She said Halloween was never widely celebrated there, besides the trick-or-treating that occurred in some upper-class neighborhoods. She said beyond that, though, there’s “nothing major.”

Ashley Manning ’17, who is originally from Peru, explained that Peruvians perceive Halloween as a very American holiday, and thus it doesn’t really exist.

She explained that as a child her family used to have some kind of celebrations for the holiday, as her father was Irish. In elementar y school, she hosted an annual Halloween party for her friends, but she was the only one who did so.

“Ever ybody always found it really fun, but it was definitely something most of my friends didn’t do…it was a tradition that I always organized the Halloween party, as nobody else really cared about [the holiday],” Manning said.

Manning also noted that she and her friends would primarily dress up in one

B y caroline berens

of three costumes: a witch, a wizard or a cat. She said the case is ver y different in the United States, where people — even children — dress up in a much wider array of costumes. She noted that this greater freedom “makes more sense.”

Maqsood said what ultimately made the holiday such a “foreign concept” to her when she came to the College, even though she had some semblance of its premises, was her unawareness of how devoted people were to dressing up.

Zoe Sands ’18, who is originally from Iceland, explained that although Halloween has not been traditionally celebrated there, it’s becoming increasingly popular to do so.

She attributed this to two main factors.

“Because of the media and globalization, people there have started celebrating Halloween like Americans,” Sands said.

Sands said these celebrations occur there on our equivalent of Ash Wednesday, which is simply called “Ash Day” in Iceland and occurs in Februar y. She explained that on this day, children go trick-or-treating and people dress up in costumes. She said this is especially odd due to the predominant religion in Iceland.

“It’s kind of bizarre…especially because Iceland is a mostly Protestant countr y, and Ash Wednesday is a more of a Catholic thing,” Sands explained.

Thus, Sands said, though any notion of Halloween was previously nonexistent in Iceland, now it’s much more commonplace.

May also said that although Halloween celebrations didn’t exist during her childhood, some local establishments like music venues and clubs now host Halloweenthemed parties.

MIRROR //5

of Halloween In a similar situation, Manning said trickor-treating has become more prevalent in Peru over the past 10 years or so. Although she explained that it didn’t exist there during her own childhood, she saw an increasing number of children participate in Halloween when she was in high school.

She noted, though, that celebrations are still not on the same massive scale as they are in the U.S. American-style Halloween celebrations, however, are not quite unique to the United States alone. Bridget O’Neill ’18, originally from Ontario, Canada, said the holiday is celebrated almost in the exact way as it is here.

“The trick-or-treating, the way teenagers and adults celebrate it, it’s pretty much the same…I don’t feel any difference between home and here,” O’Neill said.

She said the extent of decorating is relatively similar to the case in the U.S. as well.

“There are the families that go all out with the crazy decorations, and then there are the families that are a little more conser vative, but that’s the same both places, too,” O’Neill said.

In regard to this conflation of the ways in which the holiday is similarly celebrated here and in Canada, O’Neill said she is unsure of the origin of the holiday.

Manning said when she experienced her first Halloween in the U.S., one of the most over whelming aspects was the extent to which people decorate their homes.

“People go all out with decorations for Halloween…it’s pretty insane,” Manning said.

Maqsood expressed a similar sentiment about the zeal and intensity with which

Americans tend to celebrate Halloween.

“Even though I knew about the holiday, I didn’t realize the amount that people are invested in it,” Maqsood said.

May said she finds this aspect of Halloween ver y favorable.

“I just really love how into it most people get. It is a really bizarre holiday, but because other people are so into it I get super excited about it as well,” she said.

Manning explained that she doesn’t fully understand why Halloween is celebrated so passionately here, as — unlike most holidays, such as Christmas — it doesn’t seem to her that it has any particular historical significance. This makes the extensive decorations especially confusing to her.

“It’s not really a holiday that has much significance beyond that you get to dress up and do fun things,” Manning explained.

Sands expressed similar sentiment, saying the actual origin of the holiday is a myster y to her.

May also spoke to her slight bewilderment about the concept of trick-or-treating from an outsider’s perspective. She explained that it implies that it’s safe for people to walk around at night, which she said isn’t a luxur y many people have in her hometown.

She also said the notion of children requesting free candy from adults is ver y bizarre.

“It is also a ver y strange cultural event as little children demand sweets from elders and threaten to deface their house, or the like, if they don’t comply,” May said.

She noted, though, that since the activity is presented as a socially acceptable activity dominated by bright-eyed young children, people who grew up with it might be blind

to these odd aspects.

Maqsood spoke to the beneficial aspect of Halloween’s fer vent and even unusual celebrations, however, explaining that it’s ver y easy to participate in the holiday regardless of your background or experiences.

“It’s ver y inclusive. Even if you’ve never celebrated it, you can sort of just pick it up,” Maqsood explained, which she said was great as an international student.

Sands explained that her first time experiencing Halloween as a freshman was surreal.

“It was like a scene out of a movie, because it was just…ever ywhere,” Sands explained.

She said she had previously considered the holiday to be more for the benefit of children, due to trick-or-treating, so she was surprised at the level of celebrations for adults. She noted, however that the holiday’s purpose is simply to have fun.

Maqsood said her first Halloween here in the U.S. was a similarly overpowering experience.

“I’d heard about it for so long, but when you come here it’s so different to really experience it firsthand,” Maqsood said.

She noted, though, that even in college, people just dress up in costume and go out. She said she still has never been trick-or-treating, so in a way, her Halloween involvement wasn’t quite the full-fledged experience.

All students explained that despite their initial skepticism about the holiday’s premises and celebrations, they’ve all thoroughly enjoyed their experiences. Ultimately, they said, the best aspect of Halloween is that’s sole purpose (ostensibly) is to have fun.

“I mean, who doesn’t like dressing up in costume?” Sands said.

Ali Dalton/THE DARTMOUTH STAFF

6// MIRROR

A Ghoul at Our School?

A Look Into the Ghosts that Haunt Dartmouth Story

B y parker richards

Nine School Street is haunted. Many residents of the 19th-centur y mansion — today known as the Panarchy undergraduate society — firmly believe that spiritual presences both malevolent and benign haunt the building behind its massive columns.

The spirit that haunts the building — once the home of Phi Kappa Psi fraternity — is known as Emily. All records indicate that the daughter of John Richards, a local minister and physician, was kept within the white manor for almost the entirety of her life. The town’s physician, Dr. Frost, noted that “there may have been another child [in the family] who died young.”

Indeed, Emily Richards (no relation to me — hopefully) died at age 12 in 1850.

She was kept in what is today Panarchy’s bunk room, a large space that once housed numerous fraternity members before the house became coeducational in the 1970s.

“I’ve had friends who have gone up into the cupola and seen Emily’s reflection in the window staring back at them,” Andrea Nease ’17 said.

Legends within Panarchy state that Emily may have completed suicide, but medical records say she died from “an inflammation of the head.”

Panarchy president Sam Van Wetter ’16 said that Emily might have been locked away due to tendencies or preferences that were not socially acceptable in the mid-19th centur y. Emily’s “mental illness” may have been a cryptic way of saying she was lesbian, Van Wetter speculated.

Today, Panarchy — which has roughly 60 members on campus — considers itself a diverse and welcoming group with open membership, and Van Wetter said he imagines that Emily’s spirit likely approves of the house’s more accepting direction.

“I think it’s become a good place to be queer,” he said. “She was just kind of denied as a person. I think from being so oppressed and suppressed when alive, after death she has just kind of put her spirit into the house more.”

Before becoming Panarchy in the mid1990s, 9 School St. was Phi Sigma Psi, a local fraternity, and before that it was Phi Kappa Psi, a major national fraternity that came to Dartmouth in 1896 and bought the building now known as Panarchy.

Phi Kappa Psi had a wealthy, urbane reputation. The house hosted annual invitationonly banquets featuring elaborate menu cards and invitations, many of which are still available in Rauner Special Collections Library. One gold-embossed pink menu card for the fraternity’s 1904 initiation banquet included lobster salad, “fancy cakes,” brandy jelly and cigars as components of an elaborate, multi-course meal.

The fraternity’s heyday may not have been a happy time for Emily’s ghost, Van Wetter said.

“Phi Sigma Psi was kind of the gay house on campus, but it was kind of repressed, and I imagine it was pretty torturous for her to live through that repression,” he said. “Frat boys probably just don’t connect in the same way to her, so maybe she just isn’t as avail-

able a presence.”

Emily has become an emblem for the house and a protector against other, darker forces at work. While Emily is considered an honorar y Panarchist — as Panarchy’s members are known — and even invited to the house’s termly Great Gatsby-themed party, the more malevolent spirits said to haunt Panarchy’s basement are treated with greater caution.

“I’d say that the Panarchists are friendly with Emily, but whatever’s in the basement, I hope it stays there,” Nease said. “That is something dark.”

Recently, Linda Szyknowicz — Nease’s mother — visited Panarchy and asked to see the building’s basement. Szyknowicz and Nease entered the basement and spent several moments in it before running back out.

“As we were walking up the stairs, halfway up the stairs [my mother] was pushing me and screaming, ‘Go, go, go!’ and when we got up, I think she slammed the basement door, and she’s like, ‘something grabbed me,’” Nease said.

The basement includes a locked room that houses a monument built by Phi Kappa Psi for the members of the house who died in the First World War, Van Wetter said.

“These are ’16s and ’18s and ’19s, but from a centur y ago,” he said.

Additional rumors suggest that alumni practiced satanic rituals in the room and the Free Masons used it for sacrifices, Nease said.

Although no one is buried in the room, it is still haunted, she said. Nease lives on the house’s first floor, near the stairs to its basement.

“A few weeks ago, in the middle of the night, I woke up to the sound of the basement door screeching across the floor,” she said.

“If you’re alone in the house, you feel like something’s there, especially when you’re in the basement. I would never go in the basement alone, ever.”

Most of Panarchy’s members are not skeptical about the presence of ghosts in the house, Van Wetter said.

“There are some people there who are in complete and absolute denial, but I think that’s just for the safety of their minds,” Nease said.

Van Wetter said that there is no doubt at all that the tales of Emily and the First World War tomb room are true.

“It’s not a theor y, it’s a fact and more,” he said.

Panarchy has been undergoing extensive construction for over a year following a failed fire inspection.

“It’s definitely a place of spirits, and I think they’re getting upset that there’s construction going on,” Van Wetter said.

“I think [Emily’s] been a little bit on edge because she’s had pieces of her house getting messed with.”

Spiritual activity has decreased since construction began, Nease said. Additionally, the building’s cupola has been closed off for renovations, meaning a prime location for interactions with Emily has not been

Photo courtesy of Rauner Library

An invitation to a party at Phi Kappa Psi fraternity, which previously occupied the Panarchy House. accessible for several terms.

Panarchy is not a place of good or evil spirits, Nease said. Emily and the First World War-era spirits of the basement create a balance between them, she said. “[Emily’s] kind of like the shining light up in the cupola, and there’s some darkness in the basement, but it’s kept at bay,” she said.

Although Dartmouth’s campus is old, ghost stories are not common. Panarchy, however, is not the only building on campus that with rumors of spirits hanging around after their death. Nine people lost their lives in the building of Theta Chi fraternity, now Alpha Theta fraternity, when a crack in the house’s coal furnace flue-pipe leaked carbon monoxide into the house. Many people have since felt the presence of others in the fraternity, including one who claimed to

have seen seven men wearing old-fashioned woolen suits.

Even in the ver y oldest buildings, tales of the supernatural are few and far between.

Still, in old residence halls — including Massachusetts Row, the Gold Coast and Butterfield Hall — spooky sounds can be believed to be ghosts from time to time.

Ethan Isaacson ’18 claims to have seen a ghost in the Massachusetts Hall basement this month while he was working on a homework assignment late at night.

“I heard a rustling and there was no one there,” he said. “And as we all know, things that cannot be explained by our observations are best explained by irrational conjuring of the supernatural.”

Nease is a former member of The Dartmouth Staff. Van Wetter is a member of The Dartmouth staff.

JOE KIND, A GUY

COLUMN

By Sam Van Wetter

ABYSS SAM and SPIRIT SAM are walking in the graveyard.

COLUMN By Joe Kind

Halloween has rolled around, and once again I am struggling to think of a good costume.

I know what you’re all thinking— “FoCo Joe, if you can conjure up random desserts every other dinner, surely you must have some costume ideas?!!”

I do. But as you read in my previous column, I have no new friends. And my great costume idea for this year is a group costume — dressing up as the five emotions from Pixar’s hit “Inside Out.” I most likely would have been Anger or Fear, depending on the group of people who would have dressed up alongside me. I have other ideas too, but the challenge for me lies in coming up with costumes I can realistically execute. This happens to me every year.

Execution has never been a problem for my parents, however. My mom and dad have dressed up in couples costumes for years, to much praise from both their friends and mine.

2007’s Sarah and Todd Palin costumes might have been their peak, though 2010 was a big year as well. My parents dressed up as Jersey Shore’s own Nicole “Snooki” Polizzi and Mike “The Situation” Sorrentino. My mom spent at least 20 minutes perfecting her Snooki poof alone. She had shopped at two or three different Spirit Halloween stores in town, looking for just the right head of synthetic black hair. She carried a jar of pickles for most of the night, if I recall correctly. My dad, too, borrowed the rubber abs my mom bought me for my Superman costume six years prior. He dyed his hair black and even bought a pair of magnetic diamond earrings to really complete the look.

I have to say, I love a good group costume.

To be clear, though, a good group costume does not equate to a group of friends all wearing the same Ghostbusters onesie. A good group costume occurs when an individual costume is made that much better when seen in the context of the group costume. The group of ’16s who dressed up as the characters from “Zoolander” for Sigma Delt’s semi last weekend is a terrific example. Derek, Hansel, Maury, Mugatu and even Katinka were all present. Like any good costume, it’s all about execution.

For a school with such an affinity for flair, a non-Dartmouth student may think that Halloween would be an obsolete celebration at this campus. Every tails event is themed, for one.

Most semi-formals have some sort of dress-up theme to them. And then, of course, there are regularly-scheduled parties with themes. It is no wonder that Dartmouth students amass such extensive collections of crazy clothes over the course of their four years here.

Alas, Halloween here is different from all other nights.

Many Dartmouth students, if not most,

SAM’S LITTLE LARKS

MIRROR //7

love their flair. But because there are so many themed parties — tails between Greek houses or specific events open to all of campus — not every student is so spirited to dress up every single night. It can be taxing to constantly coordinate clothes.

Halloween is the one night of the year where so many people actually dress up. To go out on Halloween night not in a costume is largely frowned upon. The brothers in my fraternity, for example, knew what they would be wearing for Halloween a week in advance. Given how much flair exists on this campus, it should generally be easy to dress up for Halloween.

Unlike themed parties, any costume passes the test. Therefore pretty much any piece of flair should do, conceptually speaking. This year is no exception.

Unlike previous years, however, Halloween lands on a Saturday. A Saturday Halloween means that the preceding nights will likely feature Halloween parties, as well. The result?

MULTIPLE HALLOWEEN COSTUMES. For those of us lacking creative juices, this presents a problem.

Do I have a solution to this problem?? Kind of. I will leave you dear readers with some ideas for relatively easy Halloween costumes. I’ll get back to you with what I end up wearing.

— Dress up entire in one color. Last year, I wore all blue and went as “the ocean.” It was such a stupid idea, and the costume was so bad. But it was a costume. Wear all purple and go as “midnight” or all yellow and go as “the sun” — lots of room for creativity here.

— Dress up like Kentucky’s own Kim Davis, if you have the right attire. White long-sleeved shirt, light blue T-shirt, glasses, brown hair, white headband — look up the Saturday Night Live spoof during Miley Cryus’ opening monologue, which is hilarious.

— Speaking of Miley, anything she wears is a Halloween costume in itself. She’s been everywhere this year, so there’s lots of material to work with — or maybe not so much material.

— Dress up as Phil Hanlon and Gail Gentes.

They are both so great and so iconic.

— Dress up as your favorite late-night EBAs order — orange, yellow, red and other pizza-like colors plus an EBAs box on your shirt.

— Dress up as Cecil the Lion and the dentist who killed Cecil the Lion.

— Dress up as a Taylor Swift video icon.

— Dress up as a presidential primary candidate.

Hillary Clinton and Donald Trump are the go-to choices, but Bernie Sanders could be good, too.

Worst case scenario, wear an orange t-shirt and go as a pumpkin — the ultimate classic. If possible, tape on some black teeth and go as a jack-o-lantern. It can’t hurt!

ABYSS SAM: Fall is my favorite part of the year. Everything is dying. People drive up from Connecticut to celebrate death, taking pictures of the chlorophyll breaking down and the suicide plunges of hundreds of little leaves. People put skeletons in their yards, bony fingers shaking at you, warning you, “There’s one of me inside of you! Better be careful or I’ll escape!” Everyone is winterizing, convinced that the death of the grass and trees might be the death of them too, half-hoping it might be, half-hoping they might be a leaf and turn red then brown then fall to the ground to writhe and wither and crack under the eventual snowdrifts, forgotten from the world and compost by the spring.

SPIRIT SAM: Oh. ABYSS: You know, people don’t spend enough time thinking about darkness. They use florescent lamps and fire in their places to try to ward off the shadow void that will take us all. They even put candles in the scooped-out craniums of pumpkins, pretending that even fruit have some sort of inner light they want to spread to the world. But that’s a fallacy.

Everything is dark on the inside and everything will be dark on the outside, too, when the days get short and the nights smother the happiness you thought you would always have. But the fact is that you were made in darkness and you’ll die inw darkness. Darkness is the only truth you can ever know.

SPIRIT: Well…

ABYSS: Oh, I know. You’re going to say we evolved past that. You’re going to say that darkness was a truth only before we rubbed some sticks together and learned what is flame. You’re going to say that we’re all natural bearers of light, that we once were light ourselves, starlight that’s fallen down around us and been absorbed so we do have some shine ourselves. But we don’t. What do you see when you close your eyes?

SPIRIT: I don’t know. Red sometimes, I guess, and little bursts of whatever that’s called, light basically.

ABYSS: You see darkness.

SPIRIT: Well, only because my eyes are closed. But I try to see the light, even when — ABYSS: There is no light.

SPIRIT: What about the sun?

ABYSS: A lie.

SPIRIT: Flashlights?

ABYSS: A construct.

SPIRIT: Well, how about that moon?

They are both enraptured for a moment, staring through trees to that impossibly familiar, great shining orb.

SPIRIT: Even here, walking without any streetlights, we’re not falling over gravestones or tripping over ourselves, are we?

Our eyes adjust, and even in the darkest places, they find the light.

ABYSS: Have you ever been in a mine?

SPIRIT: Yeah, once. I hated it.

ABYSS: I’m going to live in a mine. I’m not going to bring a headlamp.

SPIRIT: That sounds awfully depressing.

ABYSS: Of course it’s depressing. That’s why I want it. We are all abysses. I, for one, actually acknowledge it. I want to live in it.

SPIRIT: What about light you can’t see?

ABYSS: There’s no light we can’t see. There’s only darkness that we haven’t met yet.

SPIRIT: Well, I mean, what about the stars?

Right now, that huge moon kind of shadows some of the stars behind it because it’s so big

and bright and close and they’re further away, as persistent but not as powerful. They’re there. You know they are because you see them on nights when there isn’t a moon.

ABYSS: I don’t see the point.

SPIRIT: Nor do you see the light! Because it’s light that you have to look for, and sometimes not even literal light but, like, metaphysical light. Or spiritual light.

ABYSS: That’s daft.

SPIRIT: It’s not! It’s all we can do to combat, you know, the abyss. And that’s what this season is. We’re not supposed to be threatened by skeletons. We’re supposed to see them as a promise, an eventuality that’s even a little hopeful. They tell us that we go on, at least structurally.

ABYSS: We end. Everything ends. And then there’s only darkness.

SPIRIT: What about haunted houses?

ABYSS: Darkness that you pay for.

SPIRIT: But they end, too, don’t they! The point of haunted houses isn’t to frighten us or tuck us away in the dark. The point of haunted houses is that we eventually walk out of them, the glow of an exit sign and brightly lit parking lots. It’s nothing but a reminder and a brief one at that, a little suggestion of what life would be if everything were horrible.

ABYSS: It is horrible.

SPIRIT: No it’s not! No sensible parent would ever let their kid dress up as a ghoul or goblin if the point were that they would forever be ghouls. The point is that they, like the trees, can die for a little while and then be revived.

ABYSS: They should stay dead.

SPIRIT: What a horrible thing to wish! That would totally deny the power of the cycle!

ABYSS: I think everything should die in the winter.

SPIRIT: Everyone does, a little bit, but not forever! It gets reborn! Do you know about the Changing Woman? (ABYSS gr unts inconclusively) No? The Changing Woman is a Navajo myth, a woman who lives like trees and who cycles like the seasons. She is born in the spring, is youth in the summer, becomes frail in fall and dies in the winter.

ABYSS: Good.

SPIRIT: Yes, good! Because she is reborn in the spring! She comes back! She, like all things, never ends. She just passes her spirit to the next season, the next sunny day, the next light that is strong enough to cut through the abyss — ABYSS abruptly falls into a freshly dug grave.

There is a long pause.

SPIRIT: Are… are you okay?

ABYSS: Never been better.

SPIRIT: Do you need some help?

ABYSS: I’ll be fine.

SPIRIT: I’ll check on you in the morning?

ABYSS: Don’t. I like it here. Happy Halloween.

8// MIRROR

Ghosts Galore A writer goes on a journey to explore the ghostly history of Portsmouth Feature

B y leina mcdermott

It’s just after sunset as I walk down an alleyway in Portsmouth, New Hampshire, tr ying to make out the numbers on the buildings I pass. After double-checking my ticket for the right address, I join a group of people standing outside a building with a sign that reads “Deadwick’s Ethereal Emporium.” Glancing around, I’m getting a ver y touristy vibe from the group. I’m clearly the youngest, except for two pre-teen girls who stand with their mom clutching Starbucks cups between their mittened hands. I take a moment to wonder why I didn’t get Starbucks first. That was the move. With the sun down, it’s getting cold fast, and I’m wondering how much longer we’ll have to wait. I turn to a nice-looking elderly couple on my right.

“Are you here for the ghost tour?”

“We sure are!”

I feel reassured, not that the spooky lantern-filled carriage and stack of cauldrons bubbling dr y ice on the sidewalk weren’t suggestive enough that I was in the right place. Finally, the door behind us bangs open and a woman dressed as witch comes out and greets us. She introduces herself as Roxie Zwicker. I know from the website where I bought my ticket that she is the bestselling author of “Haunted Portsmouth” and will be leading the tour.

As Roxie checks our tickets, she invites us to grab lanterns from the carriage before we begin with the tour (I refrain).

Once she checks us all in, Roxie has us gather around and begins to set the scene for our ghost-filled experience. She tells us that the quaint town of Portsmouth, established in 1623, has quite the criminal history.

As a port, sailors were constantly coming and going, which supported a prominent red-light district along with other kinds of scallywaggish activity. Out of all the cities in New Hampshire, Portsmouth holds the record for the number of unsolved murders, making it a hub of ghostly activity. Roxie says she’s been leading these tours for 14 years, and more often than not, at least one person will tell her he or she felt the presence of a ghost. After pausing dramatically, she leads us to our first stop.

We’re standing in a parking lot off of State Street, Por tsmouth’s main drag.

During the early 1800s, Roxie tells us, a rooming house stood here that was owned by a woman named Mrs. Woodward. Two young women worked for Mrs. Woodward, helping her run the house. One of them, Ms. Colbath, would often stay late into the evening, secretly entertaining the gentlemen boarders. One night, the stor y goes, Mrs. Woodward caught her leaving a man’s room with two bottles of alcohol in her hand.

Her suspicions having been confirmed, Mrs. Woodward fired the young woman on the spot. Ms. Colbath stormed off to her friend’s house in anger to plot her revenge. Later that evening, she returned and set fire to Mrs. Woodward’s barn. But what began

as revenge escalated to catastrophe. One hundred and twenty-eight shops, 64 homes and 30 other barns were burned over three days in what is known as the Great Fire of 1813, the most extreme conflagration in New Hampshire state histor y. The path of the fire, Roxie says, went right down State St. Now, while it was certainly the biggest, this was not the only fire in the town’s histor y. In 1802 and 1806, fires burned down Portsmouth’s Market Street and Bow Street, respectively. All three of these fires happened during the week of Christmas, and all three before Portsmouth finally built a fire department in the 1840s. Roxie points out its location, about a block away, coincidentally right behind where Mrs. Woodward’s barn stood. But what of our arsonist, Ms. Colbath?

Well, no one actually saw her set the fire that night so all the record books deemed it accidental. She moved into a poor-house a few blocks away on Chestnut Street, the next haunted stop on our tour.

We walk off State St. and over into a dimly lit alley lined with old, somewhat dilapidated buildings. Roxie comes to a stop across from a whitish-grey brick building with an old marquee and the words “Music Hall” barely distinguishable across the top.

What we’re looking at is New Hampshire’s oldest theater, Roxie tells us, the Chestnut St. Music Hall. The alms house where Ms. Colbath lived in the early 1800s stood across from it, where we are now standing. Another of the house’s more infamous residents was a woman named Molly Brigit, who lived there in the 1770s. Molly Brigit worked as a fortune teller, but this being the 18th centur y, she was quickly deemed a witch. One day, Molly was walking along the outskirts of town and passed a local farm. Soon after, the farmer found that the cows had stopped milking, the chickens weren’t laying eggs and the pigs weren’t eating — all because of Molly Brigit, the witch. So the farmer sought help from the local minister, who advised him to cut the ears off of his pigs and burn them in the witch’s residence. He told him that if he did so, the curse would break and the witch would die. Heeding this advice, the farmer brought his severed pig-ears to the alms house and burned them in the first fireplace he found. According to the stor y, Molly Brigit ran from room to room, screaming in terror. When the fire died out, she dropped dead.

A hush has fallen over the group at the stor y’s conclusion, and after a brief pause Roxie turns our attention to the old Music Hall. The hall was built in 1870, but eventually fell into disrepair until 100 years later, when it was resurrected as Loews Theater.

What happened during that centur y is unclear, but when the theater reopened, movie-goers began reporting ghost sightings. These specters were described as shadow-people, who some thought were in fact ghosts and others believed occupied the

space between the living and the dead. In any case, soon enough the theater fell into disuse, until being opened again in the late 1990s and restored to its original function as a true theater. The ghosts, however, seem to have never left. In fact, the Music Hall keeps a “ghost courtesy light” on during shows, which warns the house ghost not to bother anyone until the show is over and the light is turned off. Before we head to the next stop, Roxie mentions that in certain places, you might even catch the spirits on film.

“If you’re looking for the best place in Portsmouth to take a bathroom selfie, it is here, at the Music Hall,” Rosie says. Mental note made — I will return for a ghost selfie in near future.

As the group follows Roxie throughout the streets of the quaint seacoast town, each stop provides a spookier stor y. Occasionally, locals who recognize the tour will yell “boo!” as we round a corner or shout things like, “The only things scarier than the ghosts are the locals!” Most of them probably have not taken the tour, which would account for such ridiculous claims.

Because really, the ghosts are ver y scar y.

We visit the haunted mansion (now swanky condos) of Portsmouth’s historic mayor, Frank Jones, where a myster y woman frequently appears in a nightgown on the top floor. Roxie tells us that the mansion is not only haunted, but also connected via underground tunnel to Jones’s other estate across town. So I would venture a guess that said tunnel is also pretty haunted. After that, we crunch through the fallen leaves of a giant maple tree to an old boarding house where the buccaneer (a.k.a. pirate) John Paul Jones often rented a room. Jones, who was friends with Benjamin Franklin and also ser ved for Russia’s Catherine the Great (casual), died mysteriously at 45. Jones’ spirit now haunts the boarding house, which is maintained and curated by the Portsmouth Historical Society. According to Roxie, reports of ghosts in this house are as recent as about a week ago, when a woman on a guided tour felt something walk through her and grew so hysterical that an ambulance was nearly called.

After many more stories involving sibling murder, haunted law offices and librar y books to name a few, we finally travel back to our starting location, Deadwick’s Ethereal Emporium.

I feel a wave of relief when I spot the smoke-emitting cauldrons outside the store and hurr y inside to warm up before my long walk back to the car. After 90 minutes of ghost stories, it’s hard not to feel a little on edge in a shop filled with other-worldly artifacts. On my way out I buy some chocolate pumpkins and candy corn for the road and shove my gloves back on my already-numb hands. I step out of the shop, take a few steps until I round the corner and run all the way back to the car.

Alyssa Schmid/THE DARTMOUTH STAFF