Every historic building has it's stories. Some remember the famous or infamous that once visited or frequented the premises. Other stories focus not on the famous who have come and gone, but on unknowns who have remained in the building long after they have given up their earthly bodies. I hadn't given those residents much thought until one warm summer night a few years ago.

I was painting an office on the second floor. At that time there was no air conditioning on that floor, and the temperature must have been at least 85 degrees or higher on my ladder near the ceiling. All evening I had been having an uneasy feeling that I was being watched. Often, I would turn around certain that someone was right behind me, but the room remained quiet and empty. By 8:00 PM I had finished most of the ceiling and moved my ladder into a corner. Suddenly, I stepped into a "cold spot". The contrast in temperature was so great that it reminded me of winter in Alaska. A chill ran up my spine and the hair rose on the back of my neck. I was absolutely certain I was not alone -- when out of the corner of my eye, I saw a young woman wearing a long green velvet dress, the type that women wore at the start of the 20th century.   Amazed, but not frightened, I turned immediately to see who was there, but the apparition vanished as quickly as it had appeared. Her image however, was extremely vivid, as if it were burned on a photographic plate in the back of my mind.

Although I have looked for her often when I have had to be in the building late at night, I have never personally seen her again, but evidence of her presence remains in the building. I hadn't mentioned this to anyone until a new tenant on the second floor told me about unexplainable "cold spots" in her space. Since then other tenants have revealed that they have had unusual events occur in their offices. Apparently, the "Lady in Green" likes to entertain on the fourth floor where she can look out over Bellingham Bay. In certain offices she will often turn all of the chairs around to face the windows.

One Friday, I decided to test this in my own office which is also on the fourth floor. As I left on Friday night when I was certain I was the last to leave for the weekend, I carefully pushed my chair under my desk with its back to the window. Upon my return early Saturday morning, I was both surprised and delighted to see that my chair had been turned to face the window. I hope that she enjoyed the beautiful view of the Bay and the lights of the city.

Unlike the fourth floor which is haunted by moving furniture, the second floor is sometimes filled with laughter and the rattle of its glass doors. One tenant on the second floor even reported that he returned to his office one morning to find his computer unplugged and all of the blank paper in his computer had been run through his printer, as if there was some ghostly invisible message were printed there.