On Campus

“My Adventure at CUSM” 

Until September 1946, I had never been outside of New York City. When I finally left, I stepped off the Santa Fe Railroad into a sleepy little village of 3,000 amid a sea of orange groves. Thus began my adventure at the College, temporarily named Claremont Undergraduate School for Men until its name changed several months later. From the train station, I walked three blocks to the funky Claremont Inn. First thing the next morning, I walked to Bridges Auditorium and became one of the first students to register for the Class of 1950, the first four-year class of what soon became known as Claremont Men’s College. While the veterans moved into Bridges, I moved into Story House with the non-vets. Our dining room was on the first floor and the younger residents’ nightly ritual–until we were found out–was to raid the kitchen when we got hungry around midnight. The plan was for all of us to sleep on outdoor porches, as the rooms inside were only small study rooms with no beds. A few frozen nights later, the administration realized that outdoor sleeping was not a great idea, so they put beds in the tiny rooms on Story’s second and third floors to prevent us from freezing at night. Even in 1946, our class was a mixture of ages, backgrounds, religions, public and private high school graduates, and hometowns, although most were from California. We loved the school, and those who are around still do. 

 - Sam Bader ‘50 

"When Studying Gets Hot"

It was one of those college nights when we had just studied too hard for too long. My roommate, John Hicks ’54, and I looked outside our dorm room window and observed the young night; we knew that we had to get out and take advantage of it. Great plan, except we didn’t have a car available to us. All we wanted to do was to drive up to Stinky’s for a burger and beer! Our solution? Ask our suitemate, of course. Unfortunately, Peter Forrest ’53 would have none of it. He wasn’t done studying yet, so he locked his door and barricaded himself in his room behind his books. Not to be shut down so quickly, my roommate and I searched for a solution to our new problem. We found the answer in the form of a can of lighter fluid and matches. What better way to get someone’s attention than to “lightly” ignite the bottom of his door? However, we soon found ourselves with another problem: our suitemate didn’t notice, our can of lighter fluid broke, and liquid was spreading all over the lower portion of the door. After quickly solving that problem with the aid of several wet bathroom towels, we encountered one last, seemingly insurmountable issue. Our dorm damages deposit was not going to be returned to us! How does this story end? Well, let’s just say that you’ve never seen two students become master sanders and painters so quickly, saving their deposits and their places in the student body.

- Dave Anderson ’54

"Please Please Me"

When the first Beatles album came out, the first guy on campus to get the record knew he had to share it. He had a great setup on the Appleby balcony with a record player, an amp, and giant speakers. As soon as he got the Beatles album, he blasted the music across the campus. He wanted to make sure everyone could enjoy it. We definitely did.

- Jim Carson ’67

“Lifeguard” 

In college I was a lifeguard and was put on duty at various pools around the five colleges. This included the Harvey Mudd pool on early Friday afternoons. Occasionally students would lie out and sun themselves on the lawns around the pool but no one used it to swim there. So, I would read and study and work on various papers while I did my “duty” as a lifeguard. This was in sharp contrast to the heavy use of the pool at Scripps, where I worked the early-morning shift several days a week, watching the lap swimmers. These were “regulars” and usually only one person swam at a time. The steady churning rhythm of their laps was easy to read to, so I was able to study there as well. As a result, I loved to lifeguard and felt it was the “best job at CMC,” since I was essentially paid to study. Also, since I had to open the Scripps pool early in the mornings, I was given a key to the pool, which meant my friends and I could access it during off hours. This was much to the consternation of the Campus Security people who loved to “bust” our group during the off hours for not having a “lifeguard on duty.” Of course, we did have one, so we never could get in big trouble.  

During my time at CMC, the five colleges had a swim competency test requirement for graduation. I was assigned to work to help teach students who didn’t know how to swim how to pass the test, which involved treading water, swimming a fairly short distance, and putting your face in the water. These trainings and tests were conducted at CMC’s Voit Pool. I had serious empathy for the seniors of any of the Colleges who couldn’t swim and who had put off this test hoping somehow the requirement would change. Using my powers of persuasion, I had to get these students to overcome their fear and put their faces in the water, which turned out to be a better life lesson than any class I took and the time.  

As a result of all of my various pool-related jobs, I pretty much lived in my bathing suit and a pair of track shorts and flip flops. For my first two years at CMC, I went to my classes dressed to lifeguard. I spent my junior year partially in Denmark and the other half in DC on an internship, so I was not around on campus. Though I was able to get some hours at the pool again during my senior year, I also realized I wanted to take advantage of the great events offered at the Athenaeum. Early senior year, I remember one of my professors said to me, “Oh, you do own real clothes,” when she saw me in a dress and shoes for the first time at the Athenaeum event. It was at that moment that I remembered how small the community was at CMC and how even the smallest quirks were taken note of even by the faculty and staff, not just our fellow students.  

It makes me sad that all three of the pools in this story no longer exist, but they live on in my memory and perhaps those of others who went to the Five Colleges in the later 1970s and early 1980s. 

- Eileen (O’Donnell) Goodwin ’81 P’16 

“Spaghetti Fight!” 

In my day, Collins Dining Hall was the victim of many a prank. One trick that we used to love was over-stacking trays on the conveyor belt. When the trays reached the point where they were supposed to turn into the washroom, the tower of trays would come tumbling down–resulting in quite the mess and a loud disturbance heard throughout the building. Food fights also happened once or twice a semester, usually around finals time when people needed to let off a little stress. Perhaps the messiest, and therefore best, food fight took place on spaghetti night. When someone discovered the technique of firmly holding onto a plate, swinging their arm, and letting the spaghetti launch into the air, the fight began. Watching the plate loads of spaghetti fly across Collins was a site to behold.  

The only problem with Collins Hall food fights was that the punishment hurt the innocent. In my day, the staff closed the dining hall immediately after a food fight, so those who hadn’t eaten didn’t get into Collins. If you went to a cafeteria at another campus, you weren’t let in there, either. Hungry and locked out, you almost would be willing to go eat the food on the floor that earlier had served as the weapons in the food fight. But a little hunger was truly worth it for the opportunity to see the food fly on some other night when Collins fell victim to CMC student shenanigans. 

- Paul Novak ’86 

“Telephone” 

I am on campus a lot these days. Many things are the same. Many things have changed. One of the small changes was to the North Quad telephone rooms. As everyone has their own cell phones these days, the phone rooms have become outdated and repurposed as custodial closets. The students I was entertaining with my stories were quite surprised to realize they were phone rooms. They found it amusing to note that this was a special thing you had to agree to if choosing such a room at room draw, as in “You know that’s a phone room, right?” People would call all the time, at all hours on that phone. Parents at least had some class and would hang up after a few rings if the call went unanswered. Other students were not so classy. My then-roommate Laurie Simonson and I worked very hard to entertain ourselves. Naturally the phone was an easy and available target. Ring, ring…ring, ring… (slide open the little access door) “Domino’s Pizza,” we’d chirp. “May I take your order?” Or (pinched nose for added nasal tone) “This is the operator…how may I direct your call?” Ahhhh, the good ole days. Not so amusing when all you have to answer is your own phone. 

- Stephanie (Giss) Chakmak ’87 P’16 P’19