I had not realized that a couple of morons had forced the Princeton University administration to permanently remove the Nassau Hall bell clapper. I left Princeton in 1989 and the tradition of freshmen stealing the bell clapper was still going strong.
But, shortly afterwards, things got hairy.
In 1991, one student sprained an ankle while scaling Nassau Hall; another dropped the clapper from the roof, narrowly missing students on the ground. At that point, the administration had the bell clapper removed. The next year, officers of the freshman Class of 1995 assured the administration that the clapper could safely be restored. The University complied, but the clapper’s allure was too strong. In April 1992, Geoffrey MacArthur, a member of the Class of 1995, was injured when he fell 40 feet from the third story of Nassau Hall in pursuit of the clapper, which was then permanently removed. So that the campus would not be completely bereft of bell ringing, a recording of its peals was broadcast over speakers.
Now the Nassau Hall bell rings for only a few University events every year: the P-rade, Baccalaureate, Class Day and Commencement. Technicians reinstall the clapper for these occasions, and remain in the bell tower while it is in use.
And thus ended a 130 year tradition dating back to the last year of the Civil War.
The Nude Olympics were still going strong when I left Princeton, too, but that is now banned.
They still have Cane Spree but it’s been bled of all its ferocity. How can you get a proper education if you can’t beat a freshman senseless for having the effrontery of using a walking stick?
well I’m glad to hear they added equestrian events – what’s the point unless you can escape via trusty steed
Just say the word ‘Princeton’ and my ‘don’t give a fuck’ meter flies off the scales.
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That’s nice.
We mere mortals, who didn’t get to attend school in a simulated medieval wonderland, can’t help but feel a sense of dismay and envy when we read about the exploits of such privileged sons of “prince town.” But then typical people like me were ridiculously privileged by contrast to inner city kids who faced a daily gauntlet of gangs, drugs and crime.
During the summer between eight and ninth grade, one of my older brothers took me on a road trip across the country. In a bar in Des Moines, Iowa I spent a pleasant afternoon watching college football in a bar, chatting up the locals.
After about an hour, one of them asked me where I was from. So, I told them, “I’m from Princeton, New Jersey.” All of a sudden, none of them liked me anymore. They gave me, a 13 year-old boy, the cold shoulder.
It was then that I realized that I could be despised for merely growing up in an Ivy League town.
I’m used to it.
Congratulations.
As old traditions give way, new traditions arise. Perhaps the
Antarctica Liberation Front will spawn the next one.
That’s a good one.
Too bad the links are bad in that article.
The New Yorker link is to a John Cassidy article on Spitzer from the April 7 2003 issue. You need an account to read it I think. Here is a link that discusses the relevant bits
http://vpostrel.com/blog/college-daze
Thanks clearskies for the helpful link sharing with us.
Commercial Business Loans
Sometimes it’s not all about you…
heh.