SEX COLUMN: In search of that elusive pleasure point. SEE PAGE 3B PARTY BUS: A party on the way to the party. SEE PAGE 6B
TALK TO US: Contact Kimberly Thompson at (785) 864-4810 or jayplay@kansan.com
JAYPLAY
1B
THE UNIVERSITY DAILY KANSAN
WWW.KANSAN.COM/JAYPLAY
THURSDAY, NOVEMBER 29, 2001
STORY BY MANDALEE MEISNER PHOTOS BY JOHN NOWAK
The front of Strong Hall? The original concept was to have Strong Hall overlooking Campanile Hill, as it faces north. The side facing Javhawk Boulevard is actually the rear of the building.
In 1923, when the 14-year-long construction of Strong Hall was finally completed, architect M. P. McArdle saw the outcome of his efforts for the first time. Devastated that the building had been built backward, he plunged himself from the uppermost floor, landing dead on the grass below.
True? Probably not.
Although Strong was originally constructed with the main entrance facing north — not south as it does today — it certainly wasn't accidentally built backward. And there's no evidence that the original architect committed suicide.
This is just one example of the many legends, superstitions and rumors that pass from one generation to the next at the University of Kansas.
Whether created late at night in the minds of imaginative students or based on actual historical fact, interesting stories have always captivated people.
"A legend is a story that may not be true and probably isn't, but everybody likes to believe," said James Carothers, professor of English. "It's just a fun way that people try to create a unique space and add a little magic and mystery."
Every Traditions Night at the beginning of the fall semester, Carothers tells a fresh audience a few of the stories that make up the "magic and mystery" of KU.
One such legend is the story of the official KU chant. Carothers explained that although the original was "Rah Rah lav-
hawk, KU," the chant was transformed one day during a classroom excursion.
"The story goes that one of the geology professors took his class out to his farm, showing them various ores and rock samples," he said. "When he showed them chalk rock—a kind of outcropping in this area, one student said 'Rock Chalk,' another added 'Jayhawk' and a third said 'KU.'"
But as with most stories, the KU Rock Chalk chant legend has its variations.
According to the official KU Ambassador Handbook, the inspiration for the rhythm of the chant was the sound of a train; the Rock Chalk part came from the predominance of limestone outcroppings on Mt. Oread.
Yet another variation attributes the chant to a linguistics professor who used it as a language exercise for his class.
Many legends and superstitions - similar to Strong Hall's "disastrous" construction - pertain to specific buildings or statues on campus. And similar to Strong Hall, some buildings are rumored to be constructed differently than had originally been planned.
In a 1975 University Daily Kansan article, Murphy Hall and Summerfield were both targeted as the results of major architectural mistakes.
The plans for Murphy were supposedly "sabotaged" by a junior architect, leaving the building with misnumbered doors, rooms without windows and "18
square feet of dead space."
The front of Strong Hall The original side facing Jayhawk Boulevard is actually ward, since the "glass wall" (originally on the west side of the structure) tended to overheat the building.
Much college folklore surrounds the Campanile.
"Many people wait until they graduate to walk through the Campanile," Carothers said, because the symbolic march through the bell tower and down the Hill is a prominent part of the graduation ceremonies.
"I think the superstition's kind of stupid," she said. "But it's fun to have stories like that."
Another superstition holds that if a couple kisses while the bells are striking midnight, they will wed within the year. Or—in a milder version expounded in a 1965 Kansan article—a "girl becomes an official KU coed when she is kissed under the Campanile."
Even the truly preposterous can find its way into general lore.
turely will never graduate.
Elizabeth Morel, Lawrence freshman, walked through the Campanile despite the legend.
In a variation of the standard college virgin myth." it is said that if a virgin graduates from KU, the Jayhawk statue in front of Strong Hall will flap its wings and fly away.
Similarly, the pioneer statue in between Fraser and Blake halls will -according to the 1975 Kansan article- throw a shovel full of dirt over his right shoulder.
— that of the bust of Chancellor Lindley
— on KU tours.
Second-year KU Ambassador Paige Isaacson tells the story of another statue
"The superstition is that if you rub Chancellor Lindley's nose before going in to take a test, you'll get an A on the test," Isaacson, Salina junior, said. "Students have rubbed it so much that they've had to replace the nose four times."
Isaacson said ambassadors are given a handbook of KU facts and trivia, but each ambassador decides individually which tales to recount on a tour. She said she recently added a tale about "toot toot," the campus whistle, to her arsenal of KU folklore.
"I heard that 'tooty toot' was originally a boat whistle, and had been on the sister ship of the Titanic," Isaacson said. "Sometimes if I hear a story that someone else tells and I like it, I add it to my tour."
Some KU rumors that sound probable — for instance, that Wescow was planned to be a parking garage but converted last-minute to hold classrooms — prove to be only partially true upon closer inspection.
Actually, Wescoe was planned to be 25 stories high; the two bottom stories were intended for parking, then two for classrooms and 21 for office space. But during construction, the original Kansas Union burned to the ground. Therefore, the funds were diverted, and the intended skyscraper was scaled back to a mere four levels.
Another rumor — that Wescoe is slowly sliding down the hill because of faulty construction — is also only partially true, said Marci Francisco, Space Analyst at KU Institutional Research and Planning.
"It's really not so much sliding down the hill as shifting, actually," she said. "But it's not happening quick enough to make a difference for life and limb." Contact Meisner at 864-4810
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