In 1861 and 1862 both Union and Confederate troops could be found camped in or near Bowling Green. Like so many soldiers who served in the Civil War, they were more likely to fall victim to diseases–typhoid, dysentery, measles and malaria, to name a few–than to battle wounds. Wherever the men encamped, it was necessary for their officers to commandeer churches and houses for use as hospitals. But these hospitals were hardly the antiseptic environments we envision today. They were grim charnel-houses, home to primitive medical procedures and unspeakable filth, where young men ended their lives in pain and fever, wishing that their time on earth had been longer. One such hospital, it is said, was the home at 1410 College Street that now serves as the Sigma Alpha Epsilon house.

The fraternity brothers there are said to share the house with the ghost of one of the Civil War's departed soldiers, a tall, slender man in military cap and overcoat who has identified himself (via ouija boad) as "Kevin." They see him in mirrors and walking in translucent silhouette. More often, they hear him treading over floors, opening doors, turning on appliances. As a group of brothers watched nervously one night during finals week, he even activated their telephone answering machine several times, then caused the phone to ring but declined to speak at the other end.

Kevin's favorite number is said to be seven, and his presence has been sensed in the room bearing that number. But one brother has also heard the locked door of room number four "open" to admit the ghostly visitor. Kevin seems forever to be making his rounds, wandering mournfully over the creaky floorboards where he and so many of his brothers lost their battle with death.

Update: On April 7, 2005, fire destroyed the Sigma Alpha Epsilon house. Luckily, no one was hurt, but it remains to be seen if their ghost will follow the brothers to their new home. . . .