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Nestled in the heart of Eatonton, The Plaza Arts Center is more than just a hub for cultural events—it’s also home to some of the town’s most chilling ghost stories. The spirit of Mr. Dickey, a former principal of the old school that once stood on the grounds, is said to linger within the walls, making his presence known in eerie and inexplicable ways. The following are firsthand accounts from staff and visitors who have experienced the unexplainable at The Plaza, offering a glimpse into the mysterious world of Eatonton’s haunted history.
Late one evening, Susan, a dedicated staff member, was locking up the building after a long day. With all the doors securely locked and no one else in the building, she retreated to the bathroom. As she was there, she suddenly heard the unmistakable sound of people talking, carrying on a full conversation just outside. Confused and curious, she quickly exited the bathroom to see who could possibly be there, but the hallways were empty. The voices had vanished without a trace.
Late one evening, Susan, a dedicated staff member, was locking up the building after a long day. With all the doors securely locked and no one else in the building, she retreated to the bathroom. As she was there, she suddenly heard the unmistakable sound of people talking, carrying on a full conversation just outside. Confused and curious, she quickly exited the bathroom to see who could possibly be there, but the hallways were empty. The voices had vanished without a trace.
One staff member recounts a peculiar experience of hearing whistling while sitting at their desk. The tune was clear and distinct, yet no one else seemed to hear it. This whistling, they note, tends to increase after the building has hosted groups of children, as if something—or someone—enjoys the lively energy they bring.
Vickie, another staff member, has had numerous encounters that are less auditory and more olfactory. When alone in the building, she has often caught the scent of something strikingly similar to Old Spice, a classic cologne. The aroma appears out of nowhere, lingering briefly before fading away, leaving behind an eerie reminder of a presence that cannot be seen.
Several people have reported hearing voices when they are together in one room, only to realize that no one in the group had spoken. Others have experienced this phenomenon while alone, further adding to the mystery of The Plaza. It seems that Mr. Dickey, or perhaps other spirits, are never far from those who visit.
One of the most unnerving incidents at The Plaza involved a family visiting the old school classroom, where a photograph of Mr. Dickey is displayed in the cloakroom. Shortly after the family was taken to see the classroom, they rushed back to the office, visibly shaken, to ask if the building was haunted. They recounted how a picture had suddenly fallen off the wall while they were in the room, even though no one had touched it. Intrigued and concerned, a staff member went to investigate. To their surprise, they found the picture of Mr. Dickey lying in the middle of the hallway in the cloakroom. Remarkably, the picture was completely intact, and the family hadn’t even entered the cloakroom yet. The incident left everyone wondering if Mr. Dickey himself had made his presence known.
During the summer, when the theater is bustling with activity, staff have noticed something peculiar. While working on sets or props, the music they play will occasionally cut off or switch songs on its own, with no technological explanation. The disruptions are random and unpredictable, as if an unseen hand is at play, toying with the sound system.
Interestingly, the strange occurrences—particularly the whistling and whispering—seem to intensify after the building has been filled with children. Perhaps Mr. Dickey, known for his role in shaping young minds, still watches over the building, drawn to the energy of the youth that fills the halls.
The stories of Mr. Dickey and the unexplained happenings at The Plaza Arts Center have become an integral part of Eatonton’s lore. For those who work within its walls, these experiences are a reminder that the past is never truly gone—it lingers, just out of sight, waiting to make its presence known.