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Rooming with the unbelievable: Ottawa's haunted hostel

By Áine O’Hare

Issue date: 2/17/05 Section: Features
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"Part of it is a respect thing," explains Croken as we walk from death row to the gallows. "You just have to think about the people that lived here, the fact that there were women and children living in these conditions."
In the 19th century, when the jail was first opened, children would be imprisoned alongside their parents if no alternative, such as a family member's home, could be found.

This meant that children were subjected to the same conditions as adults, including confinement to a three by six foot cell for over 23 hours of the day, the use of a chamber pot emptied only once a day, and glassless windows that were open to the elements.

"There are accounts of prison guards shovelling out snowdrifts from cells," says Croken. "So if it was -50 C outside, it was -50 C inside your cell."

Guards, however, did more than just shovel snow. Besides the three public hangings that took place at the jail, rope-burned beams and broken floorboards attest to what Croken terms "unofficial executions".
Prisoners would have a rope crudely tied around their neck before being flung over a beam in the stairwell by the gallows. After dangling for an unspecified period of time, they would be cut loose and left to fall eight levels to the floor below.

Renovations and excavations in the 1970s revealed the remains of between 10 and 12 people under this part of the jail.
Solitary confinement, a windowless cell in the jail's basement, found prisoners stripped naked and spread-eagle and released for only 15 minutes once a day to eat their single allotted meal and use their chamber pot.

"You can still see the shackles on the floor," McDonald points out as we stand in what has been termed "The Hole" by historians and hostel employees alike. In the dim basement light, it seems aptly named.
"And of course, then there would have been no electricity, so this would have been in total darkness," she reminds me.

I walk from death row out to the gallows as the heavy door swings shut behind me. Looking from the platform to an overhead beam, marked by rope-burns from "unofficial executions", I feel a lump form in my throat
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