Victoria Park Tunnel in Brisbane captured the city’s imagination during the autumn of 1965 as a modest underground passage became the stage for a mystery that spread beyond whispers and into everyday life. Local accounts described a green, mist-like figure clinging to the tunnel walls, and the tale moved from quiet backstreets into kitchens, classrooms, and the chatter of radio studios. The tunnel seemed to breathe a living secret, a glow that was almost tangible in the damp air.
From there, the legend leaped to life with a group of curious teenagers who chose to test the whispers. They slipped past a weathered gate and ventured into the tunnel, chasing a thrill bigger than any dare. Deep inside, a boy lagged behind, his heartbeat loud in his ears. Then a green, misty patch erupted from a crack in the wall, curling through the air like a living thing. The boy stood motionless, entranced, while his friends looked on in disbelief. When they reached him, he remained in a trance, staring at the spot where the apparition had vanished. The moment left a mark on everyone who heard the tale, and it was not easily dismissed. The experience echoed through the town like a pulse in the night.
The shaken teenager was rushed to hospital in the hope that doctors could explain what had happened. Newsrooms swiftly carried the astonishing report, and soon thousands gathered near the Victoria Park tunnel, hoping to glimpse the mysterious green presence for themselves. The scene became a spectacle—photographers, curious onlookers, and dreamers all chasing a sign of life from the long tunnel. The incident helped cement the tunnel as a focal point of Brisbane’s collective imagination, a place where mystery met city life and curiosity triumphed over routine.
The sprawling engagement around the event fueled a citywide sensation and embedded the tale into Brisbane folklore. For many, the green glow felt connected to the land, the park, and the city itself, a sign that some mysteries refuse to be pinned down and instead linger in memory and retellings across generations.
Rational explanations soon appeared, with a local newspaper suggesting the glow could be gas from decaying vegetation and the tunnel’s stagnant air. Yet this account did not fully account for earlier sightings linked to the tunnel in 1903, 1922, and 1932, suggesting a repeating thread that weaves science and folklore together. Over time the ghost evolved into a cultural symbol, a reminder that not every mystery seeks a quick answer. City archives note the legend thrived precisely because it resisted neat closure.
Today the Victoria Park tunnel site bears the marks of progress, with sections demolished to make way for the Inner City By-Pass. Still, the green mist ghost remains a fixture in local storytelling, a quiet question in the air near the old walls. Some visitors swear they feel a cool draft and a hint of that glow, while others suspect the apparition exists only in memory. The legend endures as a reminder that Brisbane cherishes a good mystery and that history lives in memory as much as in fact. The tale invites a new generation to wonder what might linger in the tunnel’s shadowed corners as the city moves forward.