I grew up in Windsor in the 1960s. When I was about 9 or 10, it was not unusual for our mums to give us 2/- (20c) and tell us to go out for the day. There was nothing my friends and I liked more on a weekend than to catch the tram to the Centenary Pool, then follow it up with a visit to the Old Museum. There were usually 5 or 6 of us (no adults) and we would spend hours exploring the nooks and crannies of the old Gothic building in Gregory Terrace or playing on the Mephisto Tank that stood like a guardian at the main entrance. One day we decided to play a game of hide and seek on the first floor where all the insect cabinets were. I always found this the most interesting part of the Museum, because you could look down on the T Rex skeleton or Bert Hinkler’s Avian from above. Anyway, we were playing hide and seek when my friend said he spotted one of the girls in our group hiding on the stairs leading up to the next floor. However, when we called out to her, she took off up the stairs. To our surprise, when we turned around our friend was behind us and she said that she had spotted the other girl too. So we went to see where the girl on the stairs had gone, but when we got there we found that the stair led to a door that was firmly locked. I had not thought about that much in the past 50 years until recently when I was talking to Alannah Ruth, the present curator of the Old Museum Building, who told me an eerily familiar story about the Ghost of the young girl who lives on the stair!
In 1987/88, with World Expo 88 just a short while away in Brisbane, the Restaurant & Caterers’ Association of Qld (RCAQ) established a training school to prepare the influx of casual employees who would be working there. The Old Museum became the HQ for the RCAQ and I worked in the building for a number of months. It was a spooky environment and on several occasions, weird things happened such as the phone line appearing to be in use but no one else was in the building, and a gate that we had locked at night being wide open in the morning.
Courier Mail social reporter Ken Lord also kept an office there, down a long cement hallway lined with wooden shelves all the way along. We were all based in the bowels of the building and felt quite proud to be working out of such a proud, quintessentially Brisbane building. We pretty much had the run of the place including the grounds, the verandas and the massive open space that used to house the suspended aeroplane.
As a child, I remember going to the Old Museum on school excursions and seeing the dinosaurs out the front, the hanging aeroplane and the bugs in display cases. It felt old and dusty even then (1970s) but it felt so awful for the museum to move out, and many times, I wondered if it would mean the end of the building. Happily, it remains to this day, but it could sure use some restoration.