Auburn University, originally called East Alabama Male College, halted its operations during the Civil War when most of its students and faculty left to enlist. With students gone, the campus served as a training ground and a hospital for the Confederate Army. Hundreds of soldiers traveled to Auburn, seeking preparation for battle or treatment for wounds.
One such soldier, Sydney Grimlett, may have never left.
Legend has it Sydney was an Englishman and a volunteer for the Sixth Virginia Cavalry, according to Faith Serafin, director of Alabama Ghost Hunters.
In 1864, while his unit attempted to block Gen. Sherman’s March to the Sea, Sydney gravely wounded his leg. Most versions of the story claim he died in the Auburn University Chapel. In another version, he lived a long, albeit one-legged, life in Auburn.
Nobody knows where this legend came from, Serafin said, or if Sydney Grimlett was even a real person. She hasn’t been able to verify his existence. Though, she did find records for a Sydney Grimlett who was part of a unit in Virginia.
But that hasn’t stopped generations of students from believing in Sydney.
The chapel housed the Auburn Players, the University’s theatre troupe, from 1927-73. Sydney was extremely active toward the end of that time, Serafin said.
By most accounts, Sydney has always been a friendly, sometimes mischievous, ghost.
Theatre guests and members of the troupe reported loud banging, misplaced props, dark shadows, shaking chairs and disembodied voices, according to Serafin’s book, “Haunted Auburn and Opelika.”
Actors began leaving chocolates in the rafters for Sydney, in an attempt to stop the commotion during performances. The gifts seemed to appease the ghost, and the tradition continues to this day.
In 1973, the Auburn Players moved to Telfair Peet Theatre. Members of the troupe reportedly wrote a note to Sydney, inviting him to move with them. According to legend, Sydney obliged.
Hunter Lepold, student stage manager and senior in theatre, said he has experienced Sydney’s antics first hand.
Lepold said he was locking up after a performance of “Venus in Fur,” when he heard three loud clangs.
“Knowing Sydney to be rather nice, I called out and asked if it was him,” Lepold said. “He replied with one more, much louder, bang. Almost like hitting a metal pipe on a rail.”
Lepold told the ghost goodnight and quickly left. Later, Lepold said he learned Sydney had not been given his customary candy that night. The last time the ghost, who allegedly prefers Reese’s Pieces and Peanut M&Ms, was not fed before a show, the fire alarm went off and everyone had to evacuate the building, Lepold said.
“Sydney is a pleasant ghost, as long as he is fed,” Lepold said. “Then he likes to make a point of reminding us.”
Jennifer Salter, costume coordinator, said she has had several ghostly encounters in Telfair Peet.
Salter said when she first started working in the theatre she spoke openly about how she didn’t believe in Sydney. She thought it was just a story upperclassmen told to scare freshmen.
Late one night, Salter said she was sewing alone in the costume shop. She noticed the industrial iron, which she had just used, was turned off and cold to the touch. She found this particularly odd, because industrial irons take a long time to cool down. Still a Sydney-skeptic, Salter shrugged it off, turned it back on and continued to sew. When she went back to the iron, again, it was off.
Salter, though slightly shaken, turned it back on and continued working. This time, she said, the iron didn’t just turn itself off. It unplugged itself.
“At that point, I acknowledged Sydney and decided to go home,” Salter said.
Salter said she has actually seen Sydney on multiple occasions.
During a recent dress rehearsal of “Playhouse Creatures,” Salter thought she saw a male student walking into the laundry room. When she went to ask what he needed, nobody was there. Salter has also seen a figure standing at the top of the stairs and moving quickly from backstage to the laundry room. She said she’s heard of others who’ve had similar experiences.
Sydney is active in the costume shop, according to Salter. She said he often gets into harmless mischief, but he can also be helpful.
“There have been many times we have been looking for a particular garment upstairs in stock with no luck, only to find it the next day hanging in plain sight on the end of a rack,” Salter said. “Convenient and unexplainable.”
Robin Jaffe, theatre professor, has never been the target of Sydney’s pranks. However, he said that doesn’t mean the ghost doesn’t exist.
“I always say, ‘Sometimes it’s science, sometimes it’s Sydney,’” Jaffe said.
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