Happy New Year 2026!

 It's Just a Shock to Realize That 2025 is Over and We're Entering 2026!

Cheers!

Best Wishes for a Happy and Prosperous New Year!

Happy Holidays 2025

 Happy Holidays

From the History of Maryland Medicine!

Marcia Crocker Noyes  1888  New York City

Happy Thanksgiving!

 For the past 10 years or more, I have been dressing Marcia for the holidays. 

This year, I made a compilation of a number of these images!

Best wishes for a safe and happy Thanksgiving!

79 Years Later

It was 79 years ago today that Marcia Crocker Noyes took her last quiet breath at the Eudowood Sanitarium (below) in Towson, Maryland. She died just a few days after the 50th anniversary of her hiring at the Medical Faculty.

Initially, a party had been planned for the anniversary, but the physicians realized that she was probably not going to live until November (she did), and so planned a party for April of 1946. 

Marcia had just returned from the Medical Library Association's Annual Meeting in New Haven, CT. The experience exhausted her, and at the party, she had lost much of her voice. 

Years before, she had convinced the Library Committee to purchase a painting at auction, and had always said that if/when she retired, she was going to sneak the painting into her valise.

But that was not necessary, as the Faculty gave her the painting as a gift. When she died, she gave it back to the Faculty for their art collection, and it now holds pride of place above the fireplace in the Krause Room. 

Before Marcia died, she commented that she had not accomplished everything that she'd wanted to do during her 50 year tenure at the Faculty. She promised to rest for a few days, and then come back and "haint" the staff in order to get them to do what she wanted. 

And she has come back to "haint" all of us. If you want to learn the full story of Marcia's life, please click here to purchase and read a digital copy of her biography, written earlier this year. 

Of all of the images I've seen of Marcia, this one is my favorite.

I don't know the year of the photograph, but I love her steady gaze at the camera. 

Please Join Us for the Third Annual Ghost Tour and Evening of Spooky Stories

For decades, there have been stories of staff members and others hearing footsteps echo in the hallways or on the stairs, finding items which appear with no explanation, or catching a glimpse of a figure out of a corner of an eye...

On Wednesday, October 29 and Thursday, October 30, from 6:30 to 7:30, MedChi will be hosting a Ghost Tour of MedChi's Historic Headquarters Building in Mount Vernon, which is reputed to be one of the five most haunted buildings in Baltimore. 

While we can't guarantee that you will see Marcia, we will tell you stories of her haunting of the building, show you our extensive stacks library, our timeless art collection and the historic medical equipment our physicians have used for the past 226 years. 

Copies of the recently published biography of Marcia will be for sale that evening. Tickets are $10 per person and will support the preservation of our archives. Click here for tickets!

Reservations are required. And don't forget to select which date you'd like to attend!

Camp Seyon

A few weeks ago, I received an email from someone in Vermont whose family had owned the property that was Marcia Noyes' Camp Seyon (Noyes in reverse) on Lake George. 

Marcia ran a summer camp for girls for a number of years, finally selling the property in the 1930s. We have old advertisements for the camp, recruiting both counselors and campers. 

At first, the only building housed the kitchen with its huge, wood burning, cast iron stove and the great room with floor to ceiling book shelves, used principally as a dining hall for the girl's camp that had existed there since the turn of the century.

From an article about the property I found online: 

The girls slept on narrow, World War I army cots in large canvas tents rigged on wooden platforms.  Marcia Noyes (Seyon is Noyes spelled backward), who ran the camp, was an internationally known medical librarian at Johns Hopkins University the Medical & Chirurgical Faculty of Maryland.

Johns Hopkins The Faculty provided her a penthouse apartment in Maryland and the Medical Librarians Association still gives out a yearly award in her honor. But Miss Noyes' summers were dedicated to the camp and her girls. Marcia had the Main House floated down from an island in the Narrows on a barge as the Camp was, then, a virtual island. A boggy path led across the isthmus to the peninsula but vehicles were left on the mainland.

After she sold the Camp, it seemed to remain in one family for several generations. When they finally sold it in the early 2000s, they kept a lot of things from the property. Among the items were some pieces from the Camp Seyon years. 

As one of the descendants was going through the papers, etc. he realized that they should be with Marcia's documents at MedChi, and not with the family, so he kindly sent them to us!

There were numerous ink printings of various ferns from the property, along with the scientific names and descriptions, all in Marcia's handwriting.

Additionally, there were some notes and letters, plus catalogues of various camping supplies. 

Here are some more pieces which were in the box.

We greatly appreciate the family's foresight in making sure that we received the documents from Camp Seyon, and they weren't just thrown away.

Marcia Crocker Noyes: The Librarian Who Never Left

I am so pleased to announce the publication of "Marcia Crocker Noyes: The Librarian Who Never Left," a biography of our librarian of 50 years.

Marcia was hired by Dr. William Osler in 1896 to be the first trained librarian for the Faculty, as it was then known. She was required to live and work on the premises, so that if a physician needed a book in the middle of the night, she could get it out of the stacks.

When we built our current building in 1909, she was highly involved in the design of it, as it was also to become her home. Marcia died in 1946 and her funeral was held in Osler Hall, a fitting testimony to her long friendship with Dr. Osler.

Of course, we've all heard stories about how she's never left the building. In fact, in her latter years, she mentioned that she would stay away for a few days, and then come back to haint (haunt) the building. And indeed, she has!

The book is available in two formats: an 80-page soft-cover edition for $30.00, and a digital format for $5.00. The funds raised by the sale of the book will be used to support the MedChi archives. 

To purchase the book in either format, either scan or click the QR code below. 

I hope that you will enjoy reading the book as much as I did researching and writing it!

Happy Independence Day!

 From Everyone at MedChi

Happy Independence Day 2025!

A Rare Book Mystery

A few days ago, a friend sent me an auction listing for a book that was once owned by our Sir William Osler.

Pasted onto the cover of the book is a letter from Sir William to Marcia Noyes, our librarian. It was written about six months before he died. At the end is a personal PS "Love to you all."

Marcia and Sir William were close friends from the time he hired her in 1896, until his death in 1919.

But how did this, and two other books signed by William Osler, end up at an auction house in Connecticut?

Of course, I had to do some sleuthing. First, I culled through our records, but could find nothing. Next, I looked through the catalogue from Swann's Auction House in NYC, where we'd sold a number of our rare books in the early 2000's. No record.

Then I called the auction house who told me that the consigner was an old client of theirs. They called him and then called me back to tell me that the client had purchased the book from a rare book dealer in Baltimore about 20 years ago.

Something pinged in my brain. About 20 years ago, a low-level staffer had contracted to sell all of the books in our stacks, about 55,000, to a rare book dealer. When the powers-that-be found out, they put a stop to the sale.

But, in the interim, the dealer must have "acquired" some of our books, among them, the three that are in this auction, and that was how the consigner acquired them.

Not everyone appreciates history the way I do, nor understands how important it is to retain items from our past.

Most people won't understand the relationship between Marcia and Dr. Osler. As mentioned above, they were close friends from the time he hired her in 1896 until his death in 1919.

There are dozens of letters between the two of them, all very friendly and affectionate. There are little cards from bouquets that Osler sent Marcia wishing her a happy birthday, or sending congratulations.

When Osler moved to England in 1905, they stayed in touch and she visited him in Oxford several times. He frequently sent rare books for the Library at MedChi, including two copies of Vesalius Anatomy.

We will bid on the books, but I am sure the final price will exceed my budget. All that I can hope is that the book finds a good home.

Happy Holidays!

All of the very best wishes for the holiday season!

Marcia and the rest of the team at MedChi hope that your holidays are warm and bright! 

MCN: The Librarian Who Never Left

I was asked to give a talk at the Osher Learning Institute at Towson University. Since the topic was Spirits and Ghosts, I chose Marcia, naturally!

“In making a living, I made a life.” So were the immortal words of Marcia Crocker Noyes, MedChi’s librarian for 50 years.

Marcia was born in Saratoga, New York in about 1870.

She attended Hunter College in New York City, and then came to Baltimore in the mid-1890s to visit her sister, Kitty, whose husband was unwell. Marcia never left Baltimore. 

Marcia and Kitty both worked at the Enoch Pratt Free Library where Marcia cataloged books. 

In 1896, when Dr. William Osler became President of the Medical & Chirurgical Faculty (known then as the Faculty), he was dismayed to find that the condition of the library and the resident librarian were both in shambles.

He kept the former and got rid of the latter. The Faculty had gone dormant during the Civil War, and the existing book collection had been boxed up and all but forgotten.

Back to Marcia. Osler called his friend who was President of the Pratt to see whether he knew anyone who could work as the Faculty’s librarian and live on the premises. That person was to revitalize the library, whose books were out of date and out of order. Marcia was hired and within two weeks, she had a brand-new job and was living at the Faculty’s building on Hamilton Terrace. 

The Faculty’s members initially saw Marcia as a young woman who knew nothing about medicine. Luckily, she had Dr. Osler in her corner. Both Osler and Marcia believed in mixing the younger and older physicians in conversation, and she subscribed to numerous medical journals, so that members would come to the Faculty to read and discuss them. 

Marcia needed to be available 24/7, so she needed to live on-site. For example, a physician might call and ask for an ophthalmology book because his patient’s eyeball fell out. Marcia would check the card catalogue, and then go find the book. The physician would arrive, read up on eyeballs and then be on their way. She was our early Google.

In 1898, Dr. Osler, Marcia, and two other librarians created the Medical Library Association, which still exists today, and whose highest award is given in Marcia’s name. 

After the Faculty outgrew Hamilton Terrace, Marcia acted as project manager for the construction of the building on Cathedral Street.

A “penthouse” apartment for Marcia was included in the planning and she lived there, often with two ChowChow dogs and her maid, until her death in 1946. 

Befitting a young woman who had her own car in the 19-teens,

Marcia was active, among many other things, in the suffrage movement, which had frequent meetings (oddly, both for and against) at the Faculty’s headquarters. She led an active and lively life, spending summers at her camp in the Adirondacks, travelling to Medical Library Association meetings around the country after she became President, and visiting friends in Europe.

As she aged, she slowed down considerably, and the Faculty members planned to host a huge party celebrating the 50th anniversary of her hiring. But being physicians, they doubted she would live until then, so in April of 1946, they held the party, regardless. 

Marcia Crocker Noyes died on November 24, 1946, just four days after her 50th anniversary at the Faculty. Her funeral was held there, with 60 physicians acting as pallbearers. She is buried at Green Mount Cemetery in Baltimore, along with her sister, Kitty. 

And this brings me to the second part of my talk this evening. It always sounds a little bit bonkers to talk about our ghost at work, but it’s actually as much of a reality as it can be.

Marcia lives on in the building which meant so much to her.

She has been seen by members of the staff, she moves items around, finds paintings and other lost things, and is generally a good spirit.

Marcia lived in our building from the time it was built in 1909, until her death.

She didn’t actually die there, but at Eudowood Sanitarium, which was where the Target in Towson is now located. It is likely that she died of tuberculosis, but we don’t have any definitive proof of that.

Beginning in the 1970s, stories written by one of the latter librarians begin to appear in our medical journal. He talks about being in the office on a weekend, knowing that there’s not anyone else in the building, but hearing footsteps in the hallway.

At one point, he mentions hearing someone mounting the great marble staircase, and counted each step. A little while later, he takes the stairs up from the second floor to Marcia’s penthouse, counting as he went along. It matched up to the footsteps exactly!

He tells another story of the library employees hearing steps on the metal stairs of the stacks, and the squeak of the wheels of one of the old wooden book carts. It just can’t be explained away with an easy answer.

The most re-told story is about our former housekeeper, Letha, who used to come at seven in the morning to make coffee for us and clean up from the previous evenings’ meetings.

She went into our big lecture hall one day, and noticed a woman, dressed in old-fashioned clothes, standing on the dais. Before Letha could ask who she was, the figure walked across the platform and just disappeared.

When she told people what happened, someone showed her an old photo of Marcia, and Letha recognized her immediately. After that, Letha would never come into the building unless she knew someone was already there.

When I began working at MedChi, people always talked about Marcia when anything went awry. After a few months, I read that the physicians would give Marcia bouquets of flowers when she did a special favor for them. And then I heard that the highest award at the Medical Library Association, which she had co-founded, was given in Marcia’s name, but that somehow, MedChi, the place where she spent her entire career, was never mentioned in conjunction with her.

I decided to remedy that.

So, I went up to the top floor of the stacks, where Marcia had a desk, and told her, out loud, that we would be giving a bouquet of flowers to the Noyes Award winner in her name, with our love. I said that hoped it was okay with her and a second later, I heard something small drop onto the floor. Great, I said, and zoomed down the four flights of stairs.

But that was just my first interaction with her. I was doing a lot of research in the stacks which is where our archives are located. I pride myself on being pretty observant.

So, I don’t think I’d miss things like a 5’x4’ picture frame, or a painting leaning up against the end of a row of bookshelves, or a 5’x16’ rolled canvas, among many other items.

I still find things in the stacks. I was recently working on the rare books collection, and as I was walking out of the stacks, I noticed a large, rounded frame peeking out from behind a file cabinet. I pulled it out, and low and behold, it was an old portrait, and it happened to be one I had been looking for. It was of the historic physicians, who has one of my favorite names: Peregrine Wroth. Of course, I should tell you that my second favorite name is the doctor, Clotworthy Birnie.

I also know, without a doubt, that the items were not there before. How could they just have appeared? Where did they come from?

A few years ago, after the pandemic, we realized that we had a lot of extra space, since many of our staff were working from home. We shifted most of the offices in the 1909 building over to our adjacent building. We then converted some of that space into the small MedChi Museum of Maryland Medical History, open by appointment only.

A few of us spent the Saturday prior to the Museum’s opening at the office doing final installations.

 

We knew we were the only people in the building. But every so often, someone would poke their head outside the Museum doors and look down the hall. When I asked what was going on, as a person, they told me that they’d heard footsteps.

The evening before the opening, we were doing that frantic last-minute detail work. We had put light-weight drop cloths on the walls to protect the displays, and all of a sudden, they started billowing in a breeze! We couldn’t feel a breeze, but could see the plastic moving, and there is no HVAC in the museum room. It was a bit scary, but we rationalized that it must have been Marcia coming to check out what we were doing.

I hadn’t seen Marcia, only had arms-length interactions with her… until last fall. I was working in the rare book room, and walking down the hallway towards our Osler Lecture Hall. I saw someone, clearly a woman, walk across the Lecture Hall, but couldn’t discern who it was. When I walked into the room, there was clearly no-one there. But I knew I’d seen someone. It took me a few minutes to wrap my head around what had happened, but I was pleased that she’d finally made herself seen.

A few weeks later, a colleague stopped me to tell me that she and one of her co-workers had just seen Marcia. They were in a meeting to discuss confidential medical cases and saw a woman walking down the hallway with books in her arms, heading towards the marble stairs.

They didn’t recognize the woman. But because the case was confidential, one of them got up to look to see who it was. But no one was there. They checked the adjacent rooms and the marble staircase, but saw no one. Yet, they’d both clearly seen the woman in the hall.

Earlier this year, we had our 70-year-old intern working on our rare books collection.

He was bringing our rare books down from the top floor of the stacks, and cataloguing them to add to the Museum’s list of items. Every morning, as he’d enter the stacks, he’d call out a cheery “Good Morning, Marcia.” Sometimes, he told me, he’d hear a sound in return, or something rustling around. Was it a mouse, or was it Marcia?

We always dress Marcia for the holidays, so I thought I’d share some of the past ones with you. I haven’t had a chance to dress her for this year yet!

Since I switched jobs a few months ago to focus solely on the history of medicine, my new office is located in Marcia’s old office.

The person who had the office a few years ago, used to talk about Marcia turning off the music if she didn’t like it, or scrolling her screen up or down to read something.

So far, nothing like that has happened to me, but then, I’ve only been in her office for two months. However, I am planning on working on a biography of Marcia sometime this year, and I have a feeling she’s going to be sitting on my shoulder correcting things that I’m writing.

Funnily enough, last week as I was wrapping up my slide show, and getting ready to send it to Tracy, my computer blinked out for a second, and when it came back on, the only document that I lost was the slide show. Coincidence??? Who knows.

I grew up in an old house where odd things routinely happened. And then I worked in a 12th century castle on the coast of Wales, so, as they say, I ain’t afraid of no ghosts.

Especially one who is a good spirit, like our ghost, Marcia Crocker Noyes.

Thank you.  

It's Ghost Tour Time!

If you have been reading this blog for any length of time, you know that Marcia plays a big role in our history! She was appointed as the first Executive Secretary in 1903 and worked for the "Faculty" from 1896 to 1946. She lived on the premises the entire time!

You may also know that she's still here. Over the past decades, we've discovered items that were not there the day before, seen shadows where there should not have been any, and heard footsteps when no one was around. We, of course, attribute all of the unexplained happenings to our dear Marcia.

With Halloween coming up quickly, we are again hosting the Second Annual Ghost Tours in our historic 1909 offices.

There are no guarantees that you will see Marcia, but there will be a few fun evenings of story-telling, history, and of course, tours of our building which is very rarely open to the public.

Tickets, which are $10 each, are absolutely required, and each evening is limited to 20 guests. Last year, we sold out the two evenings in two hours. The funds raised will support the History of Medicine in Maryland and the various programs associated with it. Scan or click the QR code below to purchase tickets. Tours begin at 6:30 and last about an hour and a half. Free parking is available on the premises.

When you get your ticket, at the end, you will be asked to choose evening you'd like to attend - Monday, Wednesday, or HALLOWEEN, when we suggest coming in costume! Click or scan the image above for tickets.