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When the tallest
building on Western's campus opened in fall 1970, it was already said
to be inhabited by a visitor from the beyond. He was a worker who fell
from the topmost floor down the elevator shaft during construction, and
whose body remains entombed somewhere amid the foundations of the structure.
When Pearce-Ford is closed for the semester, the elevators will run by
themselves, their doors opening and closing without anyone present–except,
perhaps the ghostly worker for whom their installation came too late.
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Once in place,
however, elevators can still malfunction--with disastrous results, as
one of Pearce-Ford's early residents learned. He was in the habit of going
up or down to other floors to use the shower. Emerging towel-clad from
the bathroom one day, he pushed the button for the elevator, stepped through
the doors–and hurtled twenty stories to his death. Each year, on the anniversary
of the tragedy, ghostly wet footprints appear as his spirit retraces its
final walk.
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