With all the talk of "ghosts of stories never told," I've realized it's just not a proper Ghost site without a good spooky story.
And the one I'm going to tell you is true. It happened to me years ago.

I had heard Clet Hall at Niagara University was haunted, but I decided to move in anyway. While the idea unnerved me, it also fascinated me. I'd grown up hearing stories of other hauntings in my family, so I couldn't help but wonder what it was like. So there I was, this shy, awkward, quirky freshman theater major, moving all of my worldly goods into the so-called haunted dorm.
Being a bit overwhelmed by all the hustle and bustle of people moving in, I went to bed early. This would turn out to be a sleepless night. Every noise I heard brought images of tormented spirits dragging chains through creepy old buildings to my mind. Every little flicker of light reminded me of the school newspaper article I'd read about how another student had seen an apparition of a priest praying by her roommate's bed. I suddenly wasn't so sure I actually wanted to meet this ghost. I sure as heck didn't want any ghostly priests praying over my bed, at least not where I could see them.
However, the day Hopkins, as I would come to know him, made his first "appearance," I wasn't the least bit frightened. My roommate and I were in our room trying to get things in order when suddenly, my roommate's books flew off the shelf. The window was open and the wind was blowing, but the angle the books fell at was inconsistent with the direction the wind was blowing. Weird. I figured this was probably the famous ghost, but somehow, all I could think was, "Cool!" Another time, I was sitting in the hallway with several others girls when the top of the garbage can floated off of the trash can and gracefully rolled down the hallway. This provoked the usual nervous giggling and speculations about the so-called ghost.
I soon became so fascinated with this ghost that I decided to seek him up. There was an attic in Clet Hall, but it was always locked. Sometimes, when I needed to get away from everyone, I would go up the stairs and sit by the locked door and write. Soon, I would be knocking on the door trying to get Hopkins' attention. He never responded while I was up there, but occasionally, I'd get a random spooky happening a few days later that would make my day. Once, I was doing my homework when I happened to glance over at the bananas sitting on top of our fridge. At that moment, the bananas floated into the air, as if lifted by some invisible being, moved about a foot forward, and promptly crashed onto the floor. Another time, I was lying in bed at night when I felt my bed do a single violent shake.
My last day of my freshman year, I was lying in bed one morning, thinking about how much I would miss living with a ghost when I transferred to North Dakota State University the next year. Before I could so much as roll over to check the time, my radio started playing. I hadn't set any alarms or turned the radio on. It just started playing.
I never figured out who Hopkins was or how he got there. Some said he was a student who died in a fire, but who knows. I just know I rather miss the guy.