Perth’s Haunted Hospital

GWM hospital Perth

It wasn’t until I worked at the Perth hospital kitchen in the 1970s, that I began hearing stories about the ghosts that haunted their halls at night.

Although I was born in the Great War Memorial Hospital, and years later would attend high school just a block away, no one had ever mentioned the legends surrounding the original owners of the building, or how that family had been cursed.

Curious to find out more, I began to ask around town.  Being a small town where everyone knew someone, who knew something; it didn’t take long before I spoke with someone, who knew someone else, who’d seen something unusual at the old hospital.  I began to write down some of the stories about the building on Drummond Street that I thought, had always been a hospital.  I discovered that it hadn’t started out as a hospital at all.

The story begins with a Judge John Malloch, a prominent citizen of the early days in Perth, who decided in 1858 to build an opulent stone house on Drummond Street.  His home had all of the bells and whistles.  There were 17 rooms, along with two large halls that were each ten feet wide.  There was a solid walnut staircase, a large library, and a fine polished marble mantelpiece.   In those days, it was considered by many, to be one of the finest homes in all of Eastern Ontario.  The Judge named the home Victoria Hall, for the reigning Queen at that time.

GWM Victoria Hall

Description of Judge Malloch’s home, Victoria Hall, ‘The Perth Courier’, May 9, 1984, p.21

Judge Malloch had ordered many luxurious materials and finishes for his home, some from a distance, and he often became impatient because his building supplies didn’t arrive on time.  One of his suppliers had promised delivery on a certain date and the materials did not arrive when needed. This caused a critical delay in construction.  Workers were not able to proceed, and the setback cost the Judge a great deal of money.  When the material finally arrived, the Judge was so annoyed that he refused to pay.

The supplier became extremely agitated, because even though he admitted that he was very late, he stressed to the Judge that he had delivered the supplies as agreed, so he felt that he should be paid. The supplier argued at length with the Judge, but Malloch stood firm and refused to pay. In the heat of the argument the supplier cursed the Judge.  He went on to say that the Judge’s entire family would be cursed for as long as they lived in that house.

GWM 1920s

“The Perth Courier”, Nov. 10, 1982, p. 26

Years later, some would say that it was the curse, and some said that it was merely coincidence, that caused the Malloch family members to suffer ill health.  Some even succumbed to death prematurely.   The old Judge watched as they passed one by one, and he was left all alone in the large stately house.

GWM original building

Home of Judge John Glass Malloch, photo:  Perth Remembered


Fifteen years after the house was built, the old Judge died, and the once elegant Victoria Hall was left vacant.

Judge Malloch 1873 Dec 12 Perth Courier

“The Perth Courier”, Dec. 12, 1873.


The only time the house was occupied was when distant family members would open the home for the summer season, stay briefly, then leave the house empty and dark for the remainder of the year.

It was during this time, when the house was left vacant, that locals passing by at night often noticed figures walking the halls or staring out the windows.  Victoria Hall became known as the Haunted House of Perth.

ghost in window

Some said they saw what looked like a thin, sickly. old woman, standing at the window, staring down at Drummond Street below.  Others claimed that they saw the ghost of the old white-haired judge, walking up and down the long halls, as if he was searching for something or someone.

John Malloch grave Elmwood

Grave of Judge John Malloch, Elmwood Cemetery, Perth, Ontario


The Perth hospital, in the former Victoria Hall, opened in 1923.   On Armistice Day in 1924 the town of Perth dedicated the hospital as a tribute to the men and women who served in World War I, and proclaimed that it would be known as the Great War Memorial Hospital.

GWM dedication 1924

“The Perth Courier”, May 9, 1984, p. 21


By the time I was hired to work part-time in the hospital kitchen in 1976, there had been many additions, although by that time, the number of beds had been reduced.  The provincial Ministry of Health imposed bed closures in the obstetrics ward in 1973 and local mothers had to travel to Smiths Falls to have their babies.

I recall that this was a heated issue at the time, and three years later, when I worked in the kitchen, it was still a topic of great discussion.  The other topic, which I overheard many times discussed by the staff, were the ghosts that walked the halls at night.

Being a fairly level-headed person, I was inclined to take the ghost stories with a grain of salt, and went about my usual tasks.  I’d been hired part-time to work in the evenings, to deliver trays of food to the patients, after school, and on weekend mornings, to help out with the breakfast preparations.

I recall the first day of work, when I went inside the hospital, and asked one of the staff in the lobby if they could tell me how to get to the kitchen.  I got directions, and headed down the elevator to the lower level.  When I arrived one of the other part time girls, Darlene Dowdall, took me on a tour of the kitchen, and introduced me to the staff.  Dorothy Erwin was the kitchen supervisor.  She said she’d be happy to answer any questions, and welcomed me to the kitchen.  A few years later, Dorothy’s daughter Ruth, married my brother Roger, but that’s another story.

Next, Darlene brought me over to meet the cook.  His name was Wayne Clapp, and he had a quick smile, and was joking around with Leonard ‘Lenny’ Parsons, the dishwasher.  Wayne was preparing a beef stew, and he showed me the walk-in refrigerators.  I couldn’t believe the size of those things.  They were huge.

The next person I met in the kitchen was the baker, and her name was Gladys Thomas.  She had a warm personality and very kind eyes. The day I met her she was busy making some vanilla pudding.  She had a double-decker bake-oven, mounted on the wall behind her, and an enormous mixer for puddings and cakes.

Leonard Parsons, who I’d met earlier, came breezing by and asked if I’d like to start work by helping him wash some of the pots and pans.  Darlene said she’d catch up with me later, and I followed Leonard into the dish-washing room.

Mike, the evening dishwasher, poked his head in the door and with a nervous look on his face, told Leonard that ‘Miss Bosch’ was coming.  Leonard explained that Miss Gabriela Bosch was the head of the kitchen, the ‘big’ boss, and she would often drop by for a surprise inspection to make sure that everything was done just so.

He had barely finished his sentence when a very tall, dark-haired lady, wearing a white lab coat, poked her head into the doorway, said hello, and asked how everything was going.  She was taller than average, and seemed very serious, and I wondered if that’s why the two men had seemed so nervous.

One of the other part time girls Heather Bell, came in and asked me if I could help her fill up the pop machine in the cafeteria.  I recognized Heather from school.  There were two Heather Bells, one with dark hair, but this was the blonde one, and she went by Heather ‘N.’ Bell so people would know which was which.  Heather had a quick sense of humour, and she was a lot of fun to work with that evening.  We joked around as we carted in the cases of pop and slotted them into the machine.

I spotted Bill Farrell coming into the cafeteria from the kitchen and he was holding a mop and pushing a bucket on wheels. He was tall and lanky and had a big smile for everyone.  I recognized him from Perth High School, and he came over and introduced himself.  He and Heather began joking around about some of the good time they’d had with the kitchen gang since they’d started working there and I knew for sure that there would be some fun times ahead.

Another girl from school Joy Hurren, worked behind the counter in the cafeteria, and she asked me if I’d like to help her fill some dishes with pudding.  We spent about an hour doing that, and when we finished, we began to shut everything down for the night.

As we turned off the lights in the cafeteria, I heard an odd sound like someone moaning coming from inside the kitchen, but when I pushed the door open there was no one there.  Joy just shook her head and seemed to think nothing of it; so, neither did I.

On my second night I worked with Joy’s younger sister Jennifer Hurren. She and I had been assigned the job of delivering supper to all of the patients.  There were huge metal racks on wheels called carriers and every six inches or so there was a slot that held a tray of food.

The trays were already set with the evening meals.  The dinner plates each had a metal cover to keep the food hot, and some of the trays had pots of tea or glasses of tomato juice or apple juice.  Ethel Scott was working that evening putting the meals together. I recognized her because I went to school with her daughters, Judy, Thelma, and Patsy. Ethel was checking to make sure that the meals on the trays matched what the patient had checked off on their order slip.

Once we’d loaded the trays on the carrier, Jennifer and I rode up in the elevator, and stopped on the first floor.  The big metal carrier was on wheels, so we pushed it along the hallway and stopped by each room.  We made sure to check the slip of paper and match the name with the nameplate on the bed and then we set the tray down.  Some of the patients were sleeping, but most were awake and happy to see us, and we chatted for a couple of minutes and then went onto the next room.  There was one lady at the end of the hall who didn’t get a tray that night.  Her room number wasn’t on the list.  I thought to myself that she must have already eaten her supper earlier in the evening.

As the months passed by, I realized that the staff members in the hospital kitchen were a great bunch to work with.  There were many jokes shared and stories told while we worked, and every so often someone would mention the ghosts that had been seen in the halls over the years.  Well, I’d been up and down those halls many, many, months, and the only folks that I’d seen other than the nurses, were from the Hospital Auxiliary.

The ladies of the Hospital Auxiliary were a dedicated group and sometimes we’d see them in the halls. They’d be upstairs on the floors late at night delivering evening snacks to the patients.  They called it the ‘Tea and Toast Brigade’ and brought around hot buttered toast with jam or jelly, and tea or juice to the patients, to provide a little late-night nourishment.  Along with offering some cheer and a snack these ladies raised a tremendous amount of money for the hospital.  They ran a little gift shop on site, and were also in charge of the Candy Stripers – young girls who volunteered to help out with small jobs around the hospital.

I saw quite a few of the ladies from the Hospital Auxiliary like Miss N. Burke, Mrs. Vi Wilson, Mrs. L. Crothers, Mrs. B Watson, Mrs. K. Frizell, Mrs. S. Folkard, Mrs. E. Rilley, Primrose Paruboczy, Harriet Halliday, and Mary McDougall.  They were tireless workers, and it was very clear that they really cared about the patients and the hospital.

I also saw many of the local doctors while delivering the trays of food each evening.  Many of them looked exhausted as they made their rounds, but they were always friendly and had a few kind words for us as we wheeled our food carrier down the halls.  I remember Dr. Holmes and Dr. David Craig tending to their patients; and also Dr. J.A. Kidd, Dr. R. McLean and Dr. Tweedie.

Dr Tweedie

Doctor James Tweedie, 1930-2014

We walked those halls on each floor of the hospital two or three nights each week, wheeling our meal carrier up and down, unloading the trays, chatting with the patients and the hard-working nurses.  We dropped the trays off, came back later, picked up the empty trays, and brought them down to the kitchen.

I worked evenings in the hospital kitchen for almost two years.  I heard many accounts during my time of staff members seeing apparitions.  I thought that they must be imagining things, because I’d walked those halls at night countless times, I never encountered any ghosts at the GWM Hospital.

After graduating from PDCI, I worked two more months at the hospital kitchen, then headed off to college.  I treasured the friendships formed there, and the building itself was impressive; particularly the original section of Victoria Hall, which at that time was used for administration.  Being a keen student of history, it was interesting to learn about the early days, and also the many expansions and transitions that had taken place over the years.

On my last shift, there was a little gathering in the kitchen, and everyone wished me good luck in college. We loaded the trays in the carrier one last time, and headed into the elevator, and up to the second floor to deliver the evening meals.  As we made our way to the end of the floor and emptied the carrier, a nurse walked by, and I stopped her, and asked a question that had been on my mind since I started working there.

“Sorry to bother you, but I’ve always wondered why the lady in the last room on the right never eats her supper at the same time as the other patients?”

The nurse gave me a puzzled look and said, “That’s just a utility room.  We use it for storage.  There hasn’t been a patient in there for years.”

I felt the blood drain from my face and a shiver ran down my spine, as I looked at her in disbelief, and then looked back down the hall toward the room.  Was it possible that I had imagined the pale, slender lady with the snow-white hair, in the faded blue robe?  Maybe she was from one of the other rooms …but why did she stand in front of the room at the end of the hall each evening?

The girl I was working with said, “Come on!  We’ve got two more floors of meals to deliver tonight.”

The nurse had already started walking back to her station, and my co-worker was pulling the carrier down the hall toward the elevator.   I finished my shift that evening, and hung up my smock in the change room for the last time.

I left out the side door that last night as usual, and headed up the curved pathway.  Once I reached the sidewalk on Drummond Street, I looked back at the building where I’d worked the past two years.  Suddenly it looked different, almost eerie, and I recalled what the nurse had said that night.

Who was that small, frail lady with the snow-white hair that I’d seen so many times?  She never ate supper with the others. We never brought her a dinner tray. Was it my imagination? Was it just a coincidence?

Or, perhaps, this really was the ‘Haunted House of Perth’.

ghost in woods


(This story is an excerpt from “Ghosts and Gastronomy in Perth”, from “Lanark County Chronicle: Double-Back to the Third Line”  ISBN 978-0-987-702623)

LC Chronicle from web

Hallowe’en in Perth – 1960s and 1970s

Jack o lantern 1960s


Oh the tricks and treats in the town of Perth, in the 60s, and 70s!

Come along for a trip down memory lane, as we re-visit the spooky Hallowe’en nights – the candy, the costumes, the dances, and some naughty behavior thrown in for good measure!

The Treats

You might be surprised to find out the kinds of treats we had in the 60s and 70s.  One of the most popular treats – Apples!  Apples were an economical treat, especially for people who grew them in their own back yards, and it was not uncommon to have seven or eight apples in our sacks by the time we returned home from our trick-or-treating.


Rubinos apples

“The Perth Courieer”, Oct. 25, 1962


apples bowl

apples for Hallowe'en



Two of the most popular treats back in the 60s and 70s, were peanuts in the shell, and Hallowe’en ‘kisses’.  Loose peanuts were an affordable treat to purchase, and often, the people who answered the door would grab a handful from a big bowl, and drop them into our sacks.  Same with the Hallowe’en kisses.  They were usually given out loose, by the bunch, and weren’t as expensive as some of the other treats available for sale at local stores.

peanuts in the shell halloween kisses

candy halloween


In 1961 – Decorated sugar cookies, wrapped brownies, cupcakes – anything homemade, were considered crowd-pleasing treats!

cookies wrapped

You might see a plate of cookies like these, wrapped individually, in saran, at a neighbour’s home, ready for trick-or-treaters!

Treats 1961

“The Perth Courier”, Oct. 26, 1961


These were very popular in the 1960s, and it was almost certain that you would get a couple of these candies during a night of Trick-or-Treating – everyone’s favourite – Bazooka Joe bubble gum, with the comic inside, or sour Rockets.

Bazooka joe  rockets

candy halloween 1971

“The Perth Courier”, October 21, 1971


Hallowe’en Decorations

In the 60s and 70s, we had two main Hallowe’en decorations that you might see at someone’s house – the jack-o-lantern, and the outdoor light.

jack o lantern plain lit

The Jack-o-lantern was usually carved the night of Hallowe’en, and consisted of three triangles – two for the eyes, one for the nose, and a mis-shapen mouth, that was usually a bit crooked.  We didn’t have ‘pumpkin carving kits’, or ‘stencils’, or ‘patterns’.  The example above, is likely what you might see on someone’s front step, or porch.

The second most common Hallowe’en ‘decoration’ of the ’60s and ’70s was the Outdoor Light.  This was the single most important indicator of whether we would be trick or treating at a particular home, or not.  If the light was out, that meant that the home-owners had either gone to bed, or had run out of candy, so that was our clue not to bother knocking. If, on the other hand, the outside light was on, then we made a bee-line straight for the house, knowing that someone was willing to drop a candy or two into our sacks.

outdoor light

Today, we see very elaborate decorations, strings of lights, fancy candles, strobe lights, spooky music, and more.  Kids would be surprised that we did not have any of that.

It was very unusual to see anything other than a Jack-o-Lantern, on Hallowe’en.  Many people even thought it was wasteful to buy a pumpkin, carve it up, and throw it out the next day.  Not everyone was affluent enough to do this.  It was more common to see the ‘Outdoor Light’, and be satisfied with that.  How times have changed!

Hallowe’en Dances and Masquerade Balls

Many of the local halls and clubs held special Hallowe’en dances or masquerade parties.  Some of the most popular venues of those times for dances, where people dressed in costumes were, the Maberly Agricultural Hall, the ABC Hall in Bolingbroke, the Legion, the Lions’ Hall, and the Ompah Community Hall.

Hallowe'en dance costumes

You could strut your stuff at the Maberly Agricultural Hall…

Dance Maberley


legion dance

“The Perth Courier”, Oct. 27, 1966

Halloween dance

Or dance the night away in Bolingbroke, at the ABC Hall…

Dance Bolingbroke

halloween dance party


dance ompah

halloween dance 2

Lion's dance



dance halloween

Even the local ladies’ church auxiliary of Calvin United Church, in Bathurst Township, got in on the Hallowe’en fun, deciding to have a Hallowe’en party for the children in the church…

Calvinettes Hallowe'en

“The Perth Courier”, Oct. 18, 1962


There was lots of local Hallowe’en fun in the neighbouring communities.  Innisville School-teacher, Mrs. Mac McLellan knew how to throw a good party for the kids.

Innisville Hallowe'en


The Costumes

The costumes in the 1960s and 70s, at least in our small communities, tended to be the budget variety.  Very few people at that time, in our area, thought that it made much sense to go out and spend a lot of money on a costume that would be worn one night only.

Whether the costumes were for kids, or whether they were for teenagers, or adults for a Hallowe’en dance, the end result usually relied much heavier on imagination than cold hard cash.


1960s costumes

costume ad

“The Perth Courier” Oct. 15, 1964


Remember collecting money for UNICEF?

I don’t remember what year it was, that there was suddenly a big ‘push’ for us to collect money (usually pennies) for UNICEF, in place of gathering candy.  Being a kid at the time, it didn’t seem like much of a trade-off to come home with a handful of pennies rattling around in a UNICEF box, instead of putting as much candy as possible into the pillowcase I carried around, on Hallowe’en night.  I don’t remember anyone explaining where the money was going, or who it was going to.  That didn’t help matters.

Well, the kids in Prestonvale were quite the enthusiastic money-collectors, compared to the rest.  Imagine in a very small community, where people usually gave a few pennies per UNICEF box, and these kids managed to collect over $11.00.  That’s a lot of pennies!  I don’t recall anyone ever dropping more than a penny or two, maybe three, into my UNICEF box, in the 60s.

Prestonvale unicef

unicef box



The Hallowe’en mischief in Perth !!!

For a town located so close to farm communities, it’s hard to explain that each year at Hallowe’en there was a real fascination for throwing eggs.  I don’t know whether the mischief-makers were buying these at Rubino’s, IGA, or maybe Boles’ or East-End Grocers, but I imagine that there were a lot of local businesses who profited from the sharp rise in egg sales every October 31st.

guy throwing egg.png

Run, everybody run!

eggs thrown at house

….and this was the front of many local houses

eggs thrown at cars

…..and the local car-wash was busy the following day…

Halloween mischief # 1

25 to 50 people raced through Perth, throwing stones, bottles, eggs, and garbage…

Halloween mischief # 2

broken bottles

A real mess on Gore Street

….a free-for-all bottle-throwing contest going on from each side of the street

Halloween mischief # 3


...the most expensive piece of vandalism was a late model car, set on fire on Leslie Street…

car on fire


Things continued to escalate into the late 1960s….


tomato windshield

…heaved a nice, juicy tomato

at the windshield of my car….


The egg-throwing in Perth became so rampant throughout the 1960s, that by 1968, companies like Andy’s Window Cleaning, were advertising to come and clean-up your windows, the day after Hallowe’en.

window cleaning


More Shenanigans in the 70s…..

Jim Ewart’s farm became the site for one of the best local Hallowe’en tricks in the 1970s.  I don’t know which of our local lads pulled this one off, but they must have had one scary climb up the silo in the dark.  Someone had a lot of imagination, but maybe too much time on their hands!


“The Perth Courier”, November 12, 1970

…and the Hallowe’en prank, that topped all Hallowe’en pranks…took place in 1975.

I recall at the time, this particular prank was the talk of the town.  In those days, I spent a lot of time in that part of town, so there was much speculation as to which of the lads had pulled this one off.  It wasn’t unusual for the boys to climb the water tower in those days, sometimes full of extra bravery, compliments of a night on the town; but it had to require a little extra skill (and maybe some help?) to hang the stuffed dummy so that it was dangling from the tower.

water tower

“The Perth Courier”, Nov. 6, 1975, p.6


Was Hallowe’en more fun in the 60s and 70s than it is today?  Well, if you ask anyone, they will likely say that they enjoyed the Hallowe’en of their youth, no matter what decade it was.

We had a lot of imagination in those days, to make up for the lack of money for fancy costumes and decorations.  We never knew what kind of pranks would take place, but we sure became good at dodging flying eggs, while walking down Gore Street.

What do I miss the most?  The laughter, the high-spirits, running from house to house, and most of all, I miss the homemade treats!

halloween kids


Have a safe and happy Hallowe’en!

spooky house.png



Letters to Santa from Perth!

Santa reading letters


Letters to Santa

from the Children of Perth, Ontario

as published in:


The Perth Courier


We’ve all written them.  Letters to Santa Claus.  Whether we lived out in the country, on the Third Line, like us, or whether we lived in the town of Perth.  We all sat down with a sheet of paper, and a pencil or pen, and asked for that special toy that we dreamed of finding under the tree, on Christmas Day.

“The Perth Courier” began to publish these letters to Santa, and for many years we could sit back on Thursday morning, when the paper was delivered to our rural mailbox at the end of our lane, and read some of these letters, and discover what the local children were hoping to receive, from jolly old St. Nick.

Here are some of the best letters, and maybe you’ll even see your own!

Christmas 1


Christmas 2


Writing the letter to Santa


Sometimes we needed help from an older brother or sister to make sure that our letters were written as clearly as possible!

Christmas 3


We also had to make sure that we wrote the correct address for the ‘North Pole’ and walked it down the lane, and set it carefully in the mailbox!

Letters to santa at the mailbox


Christmas 4

Christmas 5


Christmas 6


Christmas 7


Christmas 8

Christmas 9

Christmas 10

Christmas 11


1981 Letters to Santa

from “The Perth Courier”


Christmas 12


Christmas 13


1982  – Letters to Santa


Christmas 14


…..and some of the letters were from kids in the country. 

These ones are from Glen Tay:


Christmas 15


This little guy even admits to being a little bit bad!

Christmas 16


Christmas 17


Christmas 18

Christmas 19


Christmas 20

Christmas 21


1983 Letters to Santa


Christmas 22

Christmas 23


….and from the kids at Drummond Central:


Christmas 24

Christmas 25



…and some more letters to Santa from Glen Tay:


Christmas 26

…and little Debbie even included a lovely sketch for Santa:


Christmas 27


1984 letters to Santa


Christmas 28

Christmas 29


Christmas 30


1983 letters to Santa from the Perth Daycare Centre

Many of us recall the column called ‘The Private Eye’, and some of the interesting tidbits of news from around Perth that was published each week.  In December of 1983, some of the wee tots at the Perth Daycare Centre wrote to Santa, and the Private Eye had a few favourites!


Christmas 31


Another letter to Santa found in a battered old shoe box, many years ago, written by a little girl, who only wanted one thing for Christmas…


Dear Santa:  I live on the Third Line, not far from Christie Lake.  We live in a red brick  house, between Glen Tay and DeWitt’s Corners.  I hope you can see it from the sky on Christmas Eve.  It’s right across the road from George and Merle Korry’s farm, and between Perkins’ and Mitchell’s farms.  I have been very good.  I got a sticker this year from my Sunday School teacher, Betty Miller, for good attendance, and I try to be good at home, and sometimes I help my mother in the kitchen, and help Dad outside when he needs me.  I would like a Beautiful Crissy doll please.  She has long red hair and an orange dress.  Please bring a Davey Crocket hat for my brother Roger, new skates for Judy and Jackie, and some books for my brother Tim.  I will leave some carrots for your reindeer.   


Always remember to leave a nice snack for Santa.  It’s a long night, and he works very hard.


cookies and milk for Santa


…….and guess what the little girl found under her tree Christmas morning?

Santa under the tree


…..the doll she asked for in her letter to Santa!

Beautiful Crissy

A reminder to all of us that Christmas Wishes really do come true!



Christmas 32

…and whether you’re young, or not-so-young, whether you write a letter to Santa, or just look up into the clear winter sky, and wish on a star, 

Always believe in the magic of Christmas!

Santa and the reindeer flying