The Olympia Theatre on Dame Street, Dublin, has been a place of entertainment for more than 140 years. Although the building’s unassuming façade is that of a house dating to around 1750, it was in 1879 that Dan Lowrey’s Star of Erin Music Hall took shape behind it. Over the years, the stage has played host to music, theatre, and comedy, featuring the best of local and international talent. In 1896, it hosted what is regarded as the first screening of a cinematic film in Ireland.

A few years later, the building was completely remodelled and reopened as the Empire Palace Theatre of Varieties. This introduced the familiar horseshoe-shaped auditorium, balconies, boxes, and elaborate Victorian decoration that we recognise in the modern-day theatre.

In earlier times, going to the theatre was a very different experience, and there could often be as much drama in the stalls as on the stage itself. In 1915, Peadar Kearney, the man who wrote the words of *The Soldier’s Song*, reportedly turned a fire hose on the orchestra because they were playing the British national anthem.

The theatre was renamed the Olympia in 1923. Then, on 5 November 1974, as cast and crew rested during rehearsals for a production of *West Side Story*, disaster struck. The proscenium arch and roof collapsed, causing extensive damage to the auditorium. Mercifully, nobody was injured, but the theatre was closed and, for a time, was under threat of demolition. On 14 March 1977, the Olympia reopened after extensive restoration. Today, the venue is renowned for its live concerts, spellbinding drama, and raucous comedy.

In 1965, paranormal researcher Hans Holzer visited the theatre and spoke to several members of staff about their experiences. One of the most active spots, even today, was, and apparently remains, dressing room number nine.

Jeremy Swan worked at the theatre as stage manager. He recalled that during a pantomime, poltergeist activity seemed to occur in that room. Clothes were thrown around the room and makeup was scattered. Occupants reported repeated knocks on the door, but there would be nobody on the other side. One night, Jeremy himself saw a glowing light in a corridor. He said it was at knee height, and as he watched, the light moved along the passageway and turned the corner into the corridor leading to dressing room number nine. A door then closed by itself, and he witnessed other doors along the corridor rattling.

The late John Brogan worked at the Olympia Theatre for 33 years. Early in his tenure, he reported seeing something similar on that same corridor, but this time it was a blue light. He watched as it drifted out of the dressing room, passed by him in the corridor, and then turned the corner.

During his visit to the theatre, Holzer was accompanied by his trusted medium, Sybil Leek. When she walked through the dressing room area, she claimed that she sensed the presence of a troubled male, possibly with military connections. She claimed that the figure was associated with a violent incident in 1916, that he had been imprisoned or trapped, and that he wanted to escape. There is nothing official to confirm ties to such an incident, but a stagehand claimed that there was fighting in the vicinity of the theatre during the Easter Rising. He claimed that a civilian was shot inside the theatre when mistakenly pursued on suspicion of IRA involvement. Whether this is true, and whether it has any bearing on the haunting, is of course uncertain.

Decades later, in 2008, magician Joe Daly was preparing for his show *Magick Macabre*. He was given dressing room number nine and was unaware of its history. Speaking to the *Irish Independent*, he described the uneasy feeling that swept through the room as he sat there alone one morning before rehearsals began. He tried to brush it off but described feeling what seemed to be a presence. He chose to say nothing about it. But when he arrived the next day, the cheery stage doorman handed him the key and said:

“Good luck up there. That’s the haunted one.”

Joe decided he would rather share a dressing room with his castmates after that, and went on to enjoy a successful show.

One of the theatre’s great characters was Maureen Grant, a well-loved member of staff who began working there in 1949. In 2015, Maureen shared some of her own encounters with the *Irish Independent*. From what I can gather, Maureen was a no-nonsense type who would not have been inclined to believe a ghost story unless it happened to her. By her own admission, she laughed at the stories her colleagues told her when she first started working there.

But all that changed one evening while she was changing between shifts.

She heard a knock on the door and asked who it was. There was no response. She opened the door and peeked out into the corridor, but there was no sign of anyone. In an interview, she said it crossed her mind that it could have been a musician who had been a little cheeky earlier. Maybe he was playing a prank. So Maureen closed the door and continued getting ready. But then there was an almighty bang on the door. The force of it was so sharp that the uniform hanging on the peg fell to the floor. Now she was cross. She threw on a coat and headed down to confront the prankster. But when she found him sitting quietly in the café with his wife, she was assured that it was not him.

With all the established stories of doors rattling and strange knocks, Maureen’s scepticism began to fall away. And the ghosts were not done with her or her colleagues yet.

Lights reportedly switched on by themselves, and the sound of a baby crying was heard in the toilets when no children were in the building. Things got so intense that the theatre summoned a medium, and Maureen showed him around. According to Maureen, the medium was immediately startled when they entered the toilets and said:

“The minute we walked into the toilet he (the medium) was startled and said ‘I’ve the answer before we begin – this is where the crying baby is. It’s a boy and his second name is Parker.’”

The theatre staff had already named their supposed baby ghost Charlie, so from then on, he became known as Charlie Parker. Nobody, however, seems to know who Charlie Parker was, or why he might have been haunting the Olympia.

But when poltergeist activity began occurring in the bar, staff blamed Charlie for that too. Coins reportedly jumped in the tills and glasses flew from the shelves before smashing on the floor.

Maureen also spoke of Annie, a former dresser who was said to sit in Box One. Her job had been to make sure the performers’ costumes were perfect, and Maureen believed that even after her death, you could sometimes feel her presence there, keeping an eye on things. Curiously, during her visit several decades earlier, Sybil Leek had also mentioned sensing a presence in Box One.

And finally, we end on perhaps the most curious member of the theatre’s cast of phantoms: the pallbearer. In 1969, Maureen’s son, Jimmy, started work at the theatre. Years later, in his capacity as general manager, he described his own ghostly encounter near the orchestra pit. He described seeing a traditional 19th-century funeral gentleman, wearing a tall top hat, with long dark hair and formal gloves, walking the aisle.