Shadows of Falconwood

The Hauntings That Never Left

To many Islanders, Falconwood Hospital was more than just a psychiatric institution—it was a place steeped in heavy memories, whispered secrets, and a lingering sense of presence. After the devastating fire of December 15, 1931, and even after the hospital was rebuilt in 1935, stories of unexplained activity continued to surface. For decades, staff, patients, and even visitors spoke of strange encounters that could not easily be explained.

The Lady in the Attic

One of the most reported apparitions at the old Falconwood site was that of a woman in white, said to appear in the upper floors of the original building—particularly in the attic, where patient-cook John MacKenzie jumped to his death during the 1931 fire. According to multiple accounts from night shift nurses in the 1950s and 60s, the figure of a woman with her back turned would sometimes be seen standing near attic windows—only to vanish when approached.

Some speculated the spirit was not John, but a long-term female patient who died in the fire, forgotten and unrecorded in official counts. Others believed the residual energy of that tragic night had imprinted itself into the structure itself—especially in the high, quiet attic where the fire first erupted.

The Screams on the River Wind

During cold December nights—especially on the anniversary of the fire—people living across the Hillsborough River claimed to hear something eerie drifting across the water: a single voice shouting, followed by the faint sound of shattering glass. Many believe this is an echo of John MacKenzie's final moments as he leapt from the burning attic window in a desperate attempt to escape the flames.

Several former maintenance workers swore they heard screams in the empty wings of the hospital while doing late-night repairs. One staff member in the 1980s claimed he turned off the heating system for maintenance, only to hear what he described as “panicked breathing and moaning” coming from the old, disused upper wards.

When he returned with another staff member, the wing was silent and ice cold.

Ward Four’s Cold Spot

Ward Four, where William McGuinn perished in the fire, has long had a reputation among hospital workers and patients alike. Even after the 1935 rebuild, reports persisted of a cold spot in the far corner of the ward, near where McGuinn had last been seen. Thermometers brought into the space regularly recorded a temperature drop of 10 to 15 degrees Celsius—even on warm days.

Patients placed in that corner bed often requested to be moved, claiming they felt watched, or that someone was sitting on the edge of their bed while they slept.

In the 1970s, a newly hired psychiatric nurse wrote in her personal journal about feeling someone brush past her shoulder while standing in the corner—though no one was in the room. She never worked that ward again.

The “Keys in the Hall” Phenomenon

A lesser known but persistent paranormal claim was the sound of jangling keys, often heard in the old administration hallway late at night. Long after evening rounds, multiple staff reported hearing footsteps accompanied by the soft jingle of metal—suggestive of a night orderly doing rounds. But no one was ever seen.

Security logs on more than one occasion confirmed the wing was locked and empty at the time.

Some speculated this was the spirit of Francis MacDonald, who had been known as a helper among staff and reportedly volunteered to assist orderlies with nightly lockups before his fatal fall during the fire. One former head nurse referred to him affectionately as “our phantom porter.”

Unfinished Conversations

Several modern-day staff from Hillsborough Hospital, the institution that succeeded Falconwood, have also reported unexplained voices—sometimes soft sobbing, other times snippets of conversation—in otherwise empty rooms. One report involved a social worker hearing what she described as "a man with a thick eastern accent, muttering scripture" in a locked therapy room.

She opened the door to find no one inside.

Interestingly, early records note that a devout Christian minister had once been committed to Falconwood in the early 1900s for what was then called "religious mania." He often quoted Bible verses aloud and was known for pacing the halls reciting psalms.

A Place That Remembers

Whether one believes in spirits or not, it is undeniable that Falconwood’s legacy left an imprint not only on the landscape of Prince Edward Island, but in the minds and hearts of those who walked its halls.

Even today, the current Hillsborough Hospital, while modernized and restructured, carries with it the whispers of its past. While official recognition of hauntings is, of course, absent, there is a quiet acknowledgment among staff—particularly those who’ve worked there longest—that the hospital still “holds stories.”

As one retired staff member once said:

“You don’t have to believe in ghosts. You just have to feel that someone, somewhere, remembers.”