All this happened, more or less. Back in September, when my previous Letter to the Editor was published at midnight, I was informed 10 minutes later by my rector that the laundry machine malfeasance had finally been solved. I hadn’t been that proud of myself ever since I wrote that essay last year comparing ”The Epic of Gilgamesh” to ”Puss in Boots: The Last Wish.” Despite this brief moment of bliss, the forces of evil did not rest for long. Last month, I was forced to survive a flood of Biblical proportions as a water leak forced my upstairs neighbors out of their room and created a dark patch on my ceiling that hung over my head like a personal South Bend permacloud. I know I told people that I wished we still had Thirsty Thursdays, but this was not what I meant. Then, when South Bend finally realized that summer was long over, Alumni’s radiators kicked into high gear, creating a cacophony of hissing and clanging. It might sound innocuous, but I was convinced that either the contraption had gained sentience and set out to perfectly disrupt my sleep cycle, or that the lint bunnies which inhabit my room began training for Bengal Bouts in the pipes. To make matters worse, our dorm's dog Toph began levitating and speaking in strange tongues, but luckily sprinkling her with Holy Water and invoking the spirit of (Uncle) Knute Rockne worked as a stopgap. I could only hope the Vatican soon returned my calls, lest I be forced to exorcize the demon myself by reciting “A Whisper of a Thrill” to it. Thus, my dear readers, we are not out of the woods just yet.Like Captain Ahab searching for Moby Dick, I then set my sights once more on hunting down and skewering the beastly “Bigs” responsible for our woes. After all, the DEFCON-1 alert from my first letter had done the trick, and Dawgs both past and present had united to beat Big Laundry, Big Pool and Big Heat. While only Big Retail Dining remained at large, they were too busy keeping their prices artificially inflated to meddle in our dorm's affairs. Our problems seemed to come from some deeper, more malicious enemy, and to learn how to battle this malevolent force I called upon a former Dawg. A man of great wisdom and wizardry, Mayor James Mueller of South Bend answered my smoke signals and came to visit the hall. He recalled countless stories of Wake Weeks past, once shrouded in mystery, that allowed me to open my mind and reach the Avatar State. After breaking free of my mortal shackles, I set out to rid the hall of our plagues with the power of community, friendship and the “shroud.”To defeat Big Flood, I decided I had to prove that I could withstand water, no matter how much or how cold. So, at the Third First-Annual Dawgtoberfest, I was dunked into a tank of actual ice water, teaching me how people on the Titanic felt (there was enough room for Jack and Rose on that door, by the way).The next challenge was Big Radiator, and after confirming that the source of the clanging was the lint bunnies’ boxing practice, I resolved to harden the Dawgs to defeat them in combat. We did so by recreating ”All Quiet on the Western Front” through paintball with Pangborn, in which the threat of a shot to my lower extremities constantly hung over me like the Sword of Damocles. Some Dawgs went even further, preparing both their bodies and minds by literally only eating meat for a week during Meat Week. With this newfound strength, we quickly banished the lint bunnies to the shadow realm, leaving us with one Big left: Big Demon. To save Toph from her curse, the Dawgs watched ”Happy Halloween, Scooby-Doo!” with the Pasquerilla East Pyros. It was a terrifying movie, in which the Scarecrow from Batman, a Skull Trooper look-alike and Bill Nye (voiced by Bill Nye) appeared in the first five minutes. The film was so frightening that it scared the demon out of Toph, who now thankfully only speaks in English again, although she keeps mentioning something about a “Beldam.” Despite our successes, I could feel the dark aura of yet another Big: Big Red. Using the powers we had gained from battling the Bigs, the Dawgs set out to beat Big Red in the 93rd Alumni-Dillon Rivalry Week. With our masterful Super Smash Bros players, elite basketball athletes and famed “Banana Bandits,” we emerged victorious for the 93rd year in a row. It was a bittersweet victory, however, because even as Big Red was vanquished yet again, I could sense something worse lurking in the shadows, injured but waiting to strike: the Biggest of Bigs.Although this Lovecraftian nightmare continues to elude me, I have learned a valuable lesson. Through the pain of leaky ceilings, angry radiators, possessed dogs and much more, the Dawgs of Alumni found community and spirit. These struggles strengthened the bonds not only among ourselves but with our fellow dorms as well. This reminds me of what a great philosopher and dear friend of mine, Kelly Clarkson, once said: “What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.” After watching my friends and Marriage Pact match (dinner at SDH tomorrow?) beat each other up in Baraka Bouts, I have concluded that this maxim rings true. It is not always about the destination or about trying desperately to defeat every problem and find that one last Big. It’s about the journey — and the people you meet along the way — that makes you a better Dawg and a better person. I’d like to imagine I now ride off on horseback into the sunset and the credits roll, but I know that this story has not yet ended. Dawg Pizza has just reopened, and the mysterious Biggest of Bigs will surely emerge to end it. But until then, this is Alumni President James Baird signing out.
James Baird
President of Alumni Hall, class of 2025
Nov. 27
