Main concert hall in McKinney, where the Rutgers Glee Club sings their melodic tunes.
Home of the Brave, Land of the Glee
By Jessica Teal
Twas’ a dark and stormy night....no, it was actually a calm late August night when the RR Team went to visit historic McKinney Hall, built in 1915. It’s the yellow house on the corner of Easton Avenue and Hamilton Street where the Glee Club practices and it has a central choir room on the first floor. Ray and I were told by a source that the building was struck by lightning a few years back and that evidence of the burned beams could be seen in the attic.
We walked around the first floor and noted some antiquities on the walls- the Glee Club has been around forever apparently, and the RR Team had a lot of fun gazing at the pictures of turn-of-the-century boys in lapels and bowlers up on the walls. On the second floor, we found the entrance to the attic. I was the first one on the narrow stairs that led up. It was a dark and cramped attic room but once I climbed up, I could stand and my head was near the burned roof beams that were exposed in one dark corner. There were some scattered old clothes and junk in the attic. I stood in the small attic room quietly, just getting used to the darkness when suddenly I felt something like a hand push firmly on my lower back. I turned, thinking that Ray had climbed up behind me. He was not there. He was actually in another room below where I was and completely out of sight. Now I knew that I did not back into a wall, I wasn't moving, just standing there when something, like a hand, pushed me firmly in the lower back, not hard enough to move me, but definitely more than a nudge. I got very scared and climbed back down the stairs as carefully as possible while shaking. I sent Ray up there for a look as I was 100% certain that I was not alone in the attic and I thought maybe some hobo or somebody was up there. Ray found no one and pointed out that with the room and stairway being so narrow, we would have heard somebody if they were in fact up there. There were no windows that could have been opened either. Just a few small sealed “servant” type attic windows. Now, I am very sure that something firmly pushed me in that attic room. Ray felt that the place was "weird". He noted an old typewriter in the attic and the mustiness of the old clothes lying strewn about.
My back, neck and the back of my head ached badly later that night but I nervously gave credit to my physical activities during the day for that (I moved a heavy table). However, this was a great anxiety-provoking experience. I am certain as to what it felt like and we cannot figure out who or what it was.
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