After the crowd goes home, the ghost light flickers to life on the Royal Alexandra’s stage. It’s been that way since 1907, a cautionary bulb casting a glow to prevent a stumble into the orchestra pit below.

It’s a safety measure, but it’s also mired in tradition. In the theatre world, where superstitions thrive — please don’t say Macbeth or whistle — the ghost light, set atop a tripod, is said to attract the spirits of deceased actors.

Built in 1907, the Royal Alex had been the dream of young millionaire Cawthra Mulock, a prominent Torontonian who died of influenza in the pandemic of 1918.

At the height of that pandemic, Toronto theatres were ordered closed in October as the city struggled to contain the virus. The closure lasted for two weeks.

“It was obviously a very different time,” says Mirvish communications director John Karastamatis of 1918. “In New York they never closed the theatres. Instead they hired health professional that would go onstage before each show and instruct people how to behave.”

These days, the ghost light at the Alex has been on for about six weeks as the venue faces its second pandemic closure in its nearly 113-year history. John Still, the head electrician who has been at the Alex “not quite as long as the ghost light,” placed it on stage around 10:30 p.m. on March 13 after “Come From Away” had wrapped for the night.

Some people put the light out to scare the ghosts away, and others do it so the ghosts can have a light to perform, but it is mostly there for safety, he says. (Of the four Mirvish theatres, only the Royal Alex has a ghost light, Karastamatis says.)

“I’m too cynical to believe in ghosts, but a lot of people do,” Still says. “There are times in the theatre you can feel that something’s there.”

Justin Antheunis, president of Toronto stagehands’ union IATSE Local 58, says ghost lights have had a “bit of a renaissance” in Toronto, thanks to electricians who work in the theatres.

Antheunis, once head electrician at the Toronto Centre for the Arts (now the Meridian Arts Centre) says he built a ghost light for that theatre’s main stage after a cast member of “Jersey Boys” died of lung cancer in 2010.

“Whether it’s in front of the audience or behind the scenes, you get into it (the theatre) because you love it,” he says. “The ghost light honours those who held that same connection but are no longer with us.”

Perhaps in early December 1918, the electrician thought of Cawthra Mulock as he turned on the light in the quiet theatre after the amused audience of “Take It From Me” shuffled home. Mulock was the kind of person who seemed unstoppable — he had been largely responsible for the Royal Alex’s existence. By Dec. 1 he was another person killed by a virus that didn’t care if you were wealthy, in your prime or a builder of city institutions.

Mulock was known in turn-of-the-century Toronto as the “boy millionaire.” Handsome and charming, he was born into wealth, and became richer when a great aunt died and left millions to him in trust when he was a teenager. As he came of age, he was involved with life insurance, trust companies, banking and bread interests. He was entrepreneurial, but also charitable, giving $100,000 for the construction of Toronto General Hospital.

In his history of the Royal Alex, Robert Brockhouse writes that some said Mulock was motivated to build the beaux-arts theatre by “nothing but aristocratic conceit,” after he’d been turned away from a sold-out show at the Princess — considered Toronto’s finest theatrical venue before the Alex. His family said it was civic pride, his way to give Toronto more cultural cachet.

His new theatre made a big splash when it opened with the extravaganza “Top O’ Th’ World” in August 1907. The newspapers noted the fashionable audience, the “tasteful harmony” of the colour scheme, the sumptuous touches like the onyx-walled entrance hall and how the entire building cost twice as much as the original estimate. It was the toast of the city’s theatre scene and the stationery used by staff declared it the “Finest Theatre in Canada.” Of course, it didn’t matter what class of theatre you were in, in October 1918, when medical officer of health Dr. Charles Hastings ordered the lot of them closed along with other places of entertainment.

The theatre changed its ads for the “Kiss Burglar” show as the closure loomed in the middle of the month: “Hurry!! Its Joy Kills the ‘Flu.’ Your last chance to laugh. Hurry!!”

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By the end of October, the city’s theatre managers were advised that they could reopen as long as they fumigated and aired their buildings out. Schools and church services were also due to resume their regular activities. The Royal Alex was back in business on Nov. 4 with “Ask Dad.”

Wasn’t there a danger of reoccurrence, Hastings was asked at a meeting of city officials. “No,” he said. “As the disease dies down the organism becomes less and less virulent.”

While case counts and deaths were down in the city’s hospitals, there was no vaccine or treatment. (A 2007 study of American cities showed another wave hit after restrictions were relaxed.)

But by the end of November 1918, Robert Brockhouse writes, “all worry seemed gone for good,” so Cawthra Mulock, 36, went to New York on a business trip.

He planned to see a few shows and maybe find a few hits for the coming months. But a day after he arrived, Brockhouse writes, Mulock was sick. He was taken to hospital and by Dec. 1 he was dead, leaving behind his wife and children, and shocking Toronto. “Young Toronto Millionaire-Capitalist Dies in a New York Hospital,” reported the Star. “Death calls big financier,” said the Globe. After a funeral at the family’s home on Jarvis Street, he was buried in St. James Cemetery, one of the estimated 55,000 Canadians killed by the virus between 1918 and 1920.

In 1963, the Mirvish family purchased the Royal Alex from the trustees who had been running it since Mulock’s death, Karastamatis says. Now facing the second pandemic in its long history, the theatre is again shuttered, along with Mirvish’s three other theatres.

“Les Misérables,” set for a summer run, has been cancelled, and single tickets for the fall season have not been offered for sale. At the Royal Alex, the set from “Come From Away’ is still onstage; the set of “Hamilton” likewise waits at the Ed Mirvish Theatre. Security guards watch over the theatres and maintenance staff check in on the pipes but, other than that, the stages are frozen in place.

Antheunis says the city hasn’t faced a theatre shutdown like this “for a long time … The theatres kept going through the wars … we shut down the theatres for 9/11 briefly, but it was only a couple of days.”

Most of his union members are out of work, but Antheunis says some continue to be employed or have been rehired under the federal government’s wage subsidy. The latter has been complicated — most members work show to show and venue to venue, “so you can’t get them to do a wage subsidy when that employee has 19 different employers throughout the year,” he says.

Toronto is lucky because the city has a well-rooted theatre scene with local actors, designers and productions, he says. Once restrictions lift, it will be easier to restart local shows than touring shows, which could face border and quarantine issues.

For now, all of the city’s theatres are dark. The ghost light will remain on the stage at the Royal Alex until it is safe for the show to go on.

“And that’s the big question,” Karastamatis says. “When will it be safe enough?”