Ghost Stories of the Cincinnati & Hamilton County Public Library’s Stacks

Written by Mackenzie Manley, Content Specialist, Downtown Main Library 

A chill runs through the Library’s stacks. A light flickers. A heavy book falls. Footsteps are heard around the corner, but nobody is there.  

We asked our staff to share stories of possible hauntings at the Library, and they delivered.  

These stories have been edited for brevity and clarity.  

Tall Tales from Downtown Main Library 

“Early in my library career I was shelving books on C-Stack at Main. A book about demonic possessions caught my eye. I was flipping through it when the power went out! This was in the evening during the time of year [when] it wasn't completely dark outside yet, but it also definitely wasn't bright and sunny (and I was deep enough into the stacks that the windows weren't going to help much anyway). I stood there frozen for what felt like 10 minutes, but it was probably only a few seconds. I waited until daylight the next day to finish shelving in that section.” 

- Nate 

“A couple years ago, I was down in the North Basement looking for a specific Goldsmith title. I just couldn't find it! I had to go up a few aisles to look through the shelves and was about to give up. I was frustrated because I just knew that it had to be down there but didn't know why I was coming up short. As I was walking away, I looked down an aisle and noticed a fluorescent light was flickering in the middle of it. I hadn't noticed this before. I thought, ‘Why not look down this aisle again? It could be here!’ So, I walked down the aisle and looked under the flickering light, and sure enough, I found the book I was looking for. Maybe that lightbulb really just needed to be changed, and it was pure coincidence, but I like to think that little Jean Alva Goldsmith wanted to help me find that perfect book to share with the children I was planning to read it to.” 

- Sharon

“I am convinced there is at least one ghost haunting the rare stacks behind the Cincinnati Room on the third floor of the Downtown Main Library. I work with CHPL's special collections and cover the public service desk in the Cincinnati Room. It is a unique space that sits on the connector between the North and South buildings of Downtown Main and contains large exhibit cases filled with rare and historic materials. So, when you are there, you are surrounded by things that were owned, used, and loved by people who have long since died.  

Every time the door to the C-Room opens, there is a little ding that goes off to let staff know to look up to see who is coming or going. This is not the only door that has a ding attached to it, though. Behind the desk, there is a locked, heavy wood door to the special collections office, which is where rare and historic materials are dealt with. At the very far end of that office is another locked solid wood door that leads down to the rare stacks. This is the second door that has a ding attached to it, so that a staff member at the desk in the C-Room does not have to open either of the locked doors behind them to know that someone has entered or exited the rare stacks.  

I am always anxious that I am going to accidentally lock a colleague in when I leave, and have become attuned to that ding from the rare stacks' door. So, when I heard it one evening, I thought to myself, "Oh, Sara (Special Collections Librarian) must have been down there shelving. I won't lock up until I am sure she has left." I thought nothing more of it.  

A half hour or so later, the library was closing, and it was time to lock and alarm the C-Room. Remembering I had heard the ding from the rare stacks' door, I poked my head into the back office to see if Sara was ready to go. Only, no one was there. "She must have been working in the office and then gone down to the rare stacks," I thought. "I'll go let her know it is time to go." So, I crossed to the rare stacks' solid wood door, only to find all of the lights were off. I called to Sara. No answer. I stepped down onto the steps and called her name again. Nothing. No one was there. Thinking it was just my imagination at the end of a long day, I locked everything up, set the alarm, and left.  

It wasn't long after that, though, that it happened again. Similarly, I was working a late evening C-Room shift by myself. I was very much under the impression that I was alone when I heard that distinctive ding from the door opening. I looked up expecting someone to enter the C-room, but no one was there. I figured my brain was playing tricks on me, so I ignored it and went back to work. But when I heard that ding again and looked up to find no one there a second time that night, I thought to myself, "One of my teammates must be back in the office or stacks, and I just missed them earlier." But when I checked both places, I once again found myself to be alone.  

I spent the remainder of my shift with my chair turned a bit sideways, so my back wasn't completely to the office door and played some music on my phone to drown out any more phantom dings that might come. None did, but that was not the last time I had this experience. Is it my imagination? I don't know, maybe. I prefer to think, however, that there is a ghostly librarian watching over those old books.” 

- Tessa

Meet Sharonville Branch’s Resident Ghost  

The Sharonville Branch has a name for their ghost: Rutherford, which was coined by a former staffer who claimed to sense the presence of a Civil War era man’s presence. Staff began using the name when blaming the entity for things that go awry.  

“The Sharonville Branch's ghost made his presence known to me one day while I was at the desk (in the pre-refresh arrangement). There was a customer browsing the adult new arrivals along the wall with a shelf of large print items behind her,” Stephona said. “Suddenly, a book on the other side of the large print shelf fell to the floor - totally undisturbed and unaffected by the customer's movements - and no one was in that aisle at all. I said, ‘Not today, Rutherford. I don't have time.’"  

Another story came from Siobhan, who now works at the Loveland Branch. “There are so many Rutherford stories,” Siobhan said. “He introduced himself to me on my very first night as the designated person in charge at closing! Staff secured the building, walked into the back to gather our stuff, and we all stopped mid-conversation because we heard talking on the public floor. We split up, made several rounds of the building, and discovered no one." 

More Sightings at Library Branches  

“I was at the old Forest Park Branch on Waycross Road, and the branch was quiet. I was standing at the information desk with the person helping me close, and we both heard someone yell, 'Hey!' from just a few feet away. We both turned our heads...and nobody was there! We did our closing rounds, and the building was completely empty.” 

- Shaun  

“No ghostly situations, but at a previous library I worked at there were many nights I was working there alone after hours to finish some massive experiences we created. One night, around midnight, I was eating a snack in the breakroom before heading out. This branch had a basement that was huge and full of all kinds of weird stuff. Well, as I was sitting there eating, I heard a loud BING! I look over and the elevator door to the basement opened. No one was in the building except me... and that elevator had not been in use for a few hours! I took the stairs down to the basement (no way I was taking the elevator). It was pitch black. I asked if anyone was in there and there was silence. I packed up and got out of there!” 

- Seth