Class Stories and Incidents of Interest
Lots of things happened during our days at Tech: some were happy, some perhaps sad, some trivial, others significant. In retrospect, it will be fun to share and relive some of those times again. Submit material by email or snail mail to the webmaster. If you want, you can post it to the Message Board, or create a newsletter article which can then be considered for inclusion in the web site. Here's one to get us started. How Cold Was It in Bleaksburg? “It's cold as the knob on a sh*thouse door, it is cold as the ti ...,” well you probably recall the rest of that little saying from our rat year. At the 35th Reunion, I noticed that our old dorm now has nice sealed storm windows — thus, probably air-conditioned rooms, too. Well, in the “old Corps,” we had those casement windows that leaked air and radiators that gave out rather weak heat — must have all been expended in those miles of steam tunnels. Anyhow, my “ole lady,” Bob DuBois had a squirt gun back in the winter of 1960 — don't know why, probably Air Force ROTC issue! He “weatherstripped” our windows by squirting water along the edges. The water froze on the inside, thus eliminating the cold drafts. This one is classified as an insignificant story, but I love to tell it to my kids so they know how tough we had it. They don't believe my high school story of walking two miles to school, up hill both ways, in the snow (that was true, too). This one is just crazy enough that they believe it! —Submitted by Ken Cobb. It's Time To Get Up, Sir! The alarm rang, I turned it off, got out of bed, and immediately “dragged” down the first floor hall on the way to the head, squaring around every column and bump in the wall in the event any upperclassman should see me, even though I saw or heard none. In fact, I did not even see another freshman in the head or hall, coming or going — odd! I was almost back to my room beside the stairs when I heard the footfalls from above. I moved faster and had my hand on the door when senior Pvt. Ware lumbered down from above. “Watcha doing up at this hour, rat!” (Did seniors ever sleep!) Rather groggy, I did not think of the standard answer, “No excuse, Sir!,” since there was a logical explanation in my mind, “It's time to get up, sir!” In retrospect, it is a lucky I did not get a demerit for unknowingly being flippant with an upperclassman, but he just shook his head more in wonderment, mumbled and moved on. I quickly entered the room and told the ole lady of the strange encounter and of the quiet hallway. I checked the watch which had been on my wrist all night, and both our clock radios — all agreed with the alarm clock that it was time to get up. As we shaved, dressed, and made the beds, it became clear that something was wrong. It was still too quiet and too dark. The ole lady then noticed that his wrist watch, which had not been in plain sight, was exactly an hour slow. Broken or just a coincidence! An hour later when the rest of band company got up it was clear that we had been had. After breakfast two sophomores came to perform the morning inspection of our room. They seemed overly concerned with our well-being when one of them asked, with a big grin, “Did you guys sleep ok last night?” Of course our unison reply was, “Yes, Sir!” We had a lot pulled on us that first year, but getting one's wristwatch changed while it was still on one's arm, without being aware of it, has to be one of the best pranks of all in my book. Wish I could sleep that soundly now! As a postscript to this story, after 40 years, I remember this event but have zero recollection of what hour we actually got up every morning during that rat year. Perhaps my subconscious wants to suppress the memories of the lost sleep on which I am just now beginning to catch up! —Submitted by Ken Cobb. |