We heard it through the grapevine A college with a 234-year history is bound to have a few tales attached to its name. And Washington & Jefferson College is no exception. We’ve combed through the archives and talked to some friends to compile a list of some of our favorite legends and mischief-makers. In the early 1980s, two young men were studying in Mellon Hall when they looked up and saw a peculiarly dressed older gentleman standing in the doorway. When they spoke to the man, he just turned around and walked into the adjoining room. One of the students attempted to follow the man, but when he got to the room, the man wasn’t there—but his portrait hung above the fireplace. It was the portrait of John McMillan and, as the story goes, he continued to watch over the students studying in Mellon Hall until a fire in 1984 destroyed the portrait. The oldest building in continuous use on a college campus west of the Allegheny Mountains, McMillan Hall was constructed in 1793. It has served many purposes over the years—dorms, classrooms, and administrative offices—but the building is also supposedly home to a ghost, Abigail. She has been known to throw trash around empty offices and disturb those who work late. The President’s House, in its Victorian mansion splendor, is said to be haunted by a Civil War soldier on the upper floors. However, as President Tori Haring-Smith, Ph.D., has pointed out, the house wasn’t built until 1892, after the Civil War was over. Nevertheless, her cats sometimes appear to watch something that no person present can see. The Thistle Physics Building has experienced its own strange happenings, particularly in room 13. Built in 1912, Thistle used to grow quite hot in the spring and summer, so the windows were kept open. But a strong breeze would periodically slam the door to room 13 shut, sometimes breaking the glass in the door. It happened a few times, and Raymond Bell, chair of the physics department between 1937 and 1975, changed the unlucky number 13 on the door to Roman numerals (XIII) instead. After that, the glass never broke—ever.
watched the next day as students leapt to their feet with smoking bottoms. There was such constant laughter that when President Moffat announced the song “Up, Stand Up, for Jesus,” the Chapel had to be dismissed for the day. Stealing the clapper of the Old Main Bell was one of the unique traditions involved in hazing rituals of the 1880s and 90s. Sealed away in its tower, the clapper was relatively safe, until, in 1900, one student succeeded in stealing the artifact and it was never returned. The bell remained silent until the restoration of Old Main in September 1926. A cow, christened “Eliza” by members of a fraternity, was tied up in the Chapel in 1938. She bore a note addressed to Rev. A. W. Wishart, the student pastor and teacher of contemporary religion, which said “I don’t like Religious Chapel. This is no Bull!” The story was picked up by the Pittsburgh Sun-Telegraph. In the early 1960s, students managed to force a cow up to the fourth floor of Old Main. However, though cows can walk upstairs, they can’t walk back down. In order to remove the cow, a pulley system had to be installed, and it still remains in Old Main today. In 1970, amidst the controversy over women being admitted, a panty raid was threatened by the male population of the College. However, their unsuccessful attempt was met by the women with a “reverse panty raid.” The women managed to make off with 500 pairs of underwear from Alpha Tau Omega fraternity that they dyed pink before returning. In 1968, Edmund Muskie, the senator from Maine, was campaigning as the Democratic nominee for vice president. While giving a speech outside the Washington County Courthouse, Muskie was ruthlessly heckled. To silence the hecklers, Muskie invited them to elect a spokesperson who would receive 10 minutes of his undivided attention in return for the crowd’s attention after that. A W&J senior was chosen. The incident was covered by the New York Times, and is considered a turning point in Muskie’s campaign. In the early 1960s, streaking was a “thing” on college campuses. One student remembers studying in the lobby of his dorm when a few fraternity pledges came in laughing hysterically. They had just streaked through the George Washington Hotel. Yikes! But not to worry: The pranksters were caught and disciplined.
The Class of 1907, hearing about an unstable chemical that would explode at the slightest touch, concocted a prank of explosive proportions. After making the chemical they snuck into the Chapel, coated the seats of freshmen and WASHINGTON & JEFFERSON COLLEGE
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