There is a certain rumble, and a certain quiet, at Wabash.
When I was told the theme for this issue of Wabash Magazine and was asked to recall memorable sounds from this, my freshman year at the College, my first thought was of “Old Wabash.”
Have you ever noticed how much better it sounds when you’re singing it with others? When I sing it at formal occasions, I’m usually standing near the Glee Club. Those young men’s voices are so strong that they bolster my own—at least in my own mind. It’s great to sing with them.
I love the sound of the stairs in Center Hall, the rumble as young men walk up and down between classes. The whole building is pulsing in the flow of time as software becomes hardware. With our offices in Center Hall, administrators are surrounded by the education of young men, and that is our touch point. No matter how hard we are working, we are constantly reminded that our jobs have meaning and purpose because we are educating the next generation of Wabash men.
During the fall I heard the collision of pads and the roar of the crowd in Hollett Little Giant Stadium, with John Beardmore ’15 on the PA system calling out, “That’s another Wabash College first down.” There was the ringing of the Monon Bell during the game, and that joyful noise wafting across campus when the Little Giants beat DePauw and brought the Bell home again.
This winter I heard a little too often the crunch of ice and snow, although I feel certain that we got the worst winter of my tenure behind us.
I mark the first day of Spring not by the calendar, but by the first bird I hear singing. I shared that moment this year with Professor Jon Baer as we were walking across campus on one of the first warmer days. We heard the bird but couldn’t see it, so I looked for a while and tweeted a picture to Jon later that day.
There is the sound of knives and forks clattering in the dining room at Elston Homestead, a great place to meet with members of the Wabash community throughout the year and to share conversations across the table and one-on-one.
There is the sound of Sphinx Club pledges on Thursdays yelling: “Go to Chapel!” There is the sound of students shuffling into the Chapel as they take their places on the benches. When Steve Ferguson ’63 returned to campus for Commencement to receive his honorary degree, he recalled the days when Chapel was mandatory and his job was taking attendance. Not a job that made him popular, he said, but it helped him fund his Wabash education.
I enjoyed listening to Ferguson and our other honorary degree recipients, David Givens ’56 and David Lahey ’60, swapping stories about Wabash in the 1950s and 1960s. They had a deep respect for one another. Each was humbled and honored to receive this degree and to be lauded for all they had created and all they had given back. They were almost silenced by the accolades.
“One of the things that makes a difference here is the culture,” Ferguson shared at the Honorary Degree Luncheon. “When you come here, you’re here to finish. They’ll do whatever they can to help you, and they treat you like a responsible adult. You’re accountable in a culture that wants you to succeed.”
That certain quiet? I hear it when I walk across the mall. It’s a serenity that allows our students to pick their own way to their fortunes, gives them the time to think through who they want to be in their own undisrupted fashion, no matter what is swirling around them. Even surrounded by a cacophony of sound, there is a quiet you can hear, one you share with others here that helps you find your way in the world. As Claude Debussy said, “The music is in the space between the notes.”
That music calls alumni home. A comfortable old chair in the middle of a busy room from which they can see their lives, understand their place in the world, and understand their place in the lives of other Wabash men.
At Big Bash Weekend, Steve Cougill ’64 came back after 50 years to discover he could still sing “Old Wabash” on the Chapel steps. He was so moved that he almost couldn’t finish the song, but then his own voice grew stronger as it blended with the voices of his Wabash brothers.
Every time I walk into Center Hall I can’t help but start whistling that familiar tune.
Contact President Hess: hessg@wabash.edu