Retrospective

I’ve nothing to write about from Monday’s run. I could prattle on about how important it was to get back on the street with the approach of Bix in two weeks. I could admit that I was a little concerned about the heat after my recent dehydration episode. I could confess that indeed I felt the heat a little more than I expected Monday morning, though it was only 77 degrees. But you’d expect that pap.

Wetzel Hall, 2009, seen from the northwest looking southeast. Tanner,
its twin, would be to the right of this pic, Bayliss/Henninger to the left.

 So let me share some memories that were dredged up Saturday morning when I visited Macomb and the campus of Western Illinois University to witness an “execution” as I put it in a text to a friend afterward. The condemned in this instance was not a criminal. Her only crime was dilapidation due to age and neglect. Put to death by implosion Saturday morning at (supposedly) 7 a.m. sharp was Wetzel Hall, my freshman residence hall (dormitory as they used to be called).

Dormitory is the equivalent to hospital today as an outdated word. Modern linguistics prefer a broader, more auspicious verbiage: residence hall, medical center, learning center (nee library). I love language and words, but they are so easily abused. And misused.

Anyway, I returned to the place of my formal higher education to watch my one-time home, a pivotal place in my growth as a person, as a man, as a scholar, disintegrate into dust and debris under the force of multiple explosive detonations, activated, at least ceremonially, by a student who won a texting contest.

Wetzel Hall was closed three years ago, after the 2008-09 school year I believe, under the university’s long-term plan. I was rather saddened to learn of Wetzel’s fate back then. I waited for word of when she would be destroyed. Wondered at times if I could garner some memento from her rooms. I never pursued that possibility, but vowed to witness her destruction. Call it closure.

Wetzel was my gateway to college life and the dorm/residence hall experience. The occasional annoying neighbor notwithstanding, I loved it. Cafeteria food wasn’t bad (I loved some of it and when the main entrée failed to please the palate, there was always a variety of cold cereal to fall back on). I met new people and made some life-long friends. Don’t we all?

It was in Wetzel that I had my first solo beer while studying (Busch, by the way). It was in Wetzel that I first witnessed the “walk of shame” when a girl with mussed hair and a pillow under her arm would step on the elevator on the guys’ side of the building at 8:01, just after co-ed visitation hours resumed (no opposite sex visitors allowed between 2 and 8 or something like that – which always raised a question when daylight saving time kicked in). 

My face and the rest of me was a little fatter in 2009. This is
the back side of Wetzel. The white circular appendage
was the cafeteria.

Wetzel stood in the northeast quad with its twin, Tanner, and the square twins, Bayliss and Henninger. That complex sits farthest from anything else on campus, separated by the expanse of Q lot, the immense parking lot cum winter tundra. You had to leave early to reach classes anywhere, though we quickly learned how to cut through the back streets for the southern buildings rather than taking the long way around through Q lot. That led past the Chi Omega house, which I never visited, and the Sigma Nu house, where I attended my first frat party.

My first roommate I remember only by his nickname, “Smoke.” He was a mountain of a guy but he grew homesick and left within a week. I had the luxury of a single for the rest of the month. Then Eric moved in. I wish I could recall his last name and track him down. He was classic ‘80s – mullet, makeup, guitar, leather and zippers. He dabbled in martial arts and music and was a Duran Duran fan. He also had a kick-ass stereo. We got along just fine, even when I returned from my initiation into Alpha Phi Omega at 4 a.m. to find him sharing our two beds (pulled together) with Tiffany, a cute gal with gorgeous brown hair down to her butt. I simply went to the first floor lounge and crashed until visitation hours reopened, then I moseyed over to Thompson Hall to hang with my girlfriend, Marybeth.

I have a store of memories from the first year at WIU, many of them associated with Wetzel. So it was with watery eyes that I watched her demolition Saturday morning with hundreds of others gathered in the parking lot at U.S. 67 and Western Drive. I did not cheer when others did. I cringed and choked back a few tears. I made my way around to Sherman Hall, WIU’s main administration building, As the dust cloud from the demolition slowly rolled in from the north I smelled the wood and plaster of demolition. I choked up a little while recording a five-minute video of my thoughts on the experience. It was a chilling sensation as those charges detonated in quick succession until finally the top center of the building caved and her wings folded in and down. The sound of the explosions was surreal, almost a distant echo. It haunts me now.

I know this was no 9/11. Nobody died when they brought down Wetzel Hall. But in a way, a part of me did. The memories will live on, but that landmark, the physical touchstone of my freshman year, is forever gone.

Today's Stats (July 16)

Temp: 77 degrees F

Distance: 3.82 miles

Treasure: 1 black hand towel; 13 cans.

iPod Playlist (shuffle)

Kansas City/Hey-Hey-Hey – The Beatles

Jack and Diane John Mellencamp

Twistin’ The Night Away – Sam Cooke

Bring it on Home – Led Zeppelin

Walk This Way – Aerosmith

Need You Now – Lady Antebellum

I Don’t Wanna – The Call

The Spirit of Radio – Rush

Let Me Know – Eric Lindell

New York, New York (Live) – Ryan Adams