Notre Dame's very own Area 51

It was a dark and stormy night. After the long drive back from night one of the Eras Tour in Indianapolis, my friend and I pulled into an open spot in Rugby Lot as the clock struck 3:17 am. Never in our ”Wildest Dreams” could we have imagined what we were about to uncover. Just as we began our trek back to the dorm, the stillness of the night was broken by an industrial-looking golf cart speeding past and nearly running us over. I felt a chill run down my spine. Perhaps it was merely that signature South Bend cold. But perhaps it was due to something much more sinister.

With tired eyes, we watched the golf cart swerve around the corner and slam on the breaks in front of a section of campus I’d never paid much attention to. It sits, hidden in plain sight, on the east side of Wilson Drive, right across from the rugby field. The plot of land contains one square brick building, a large grey cylinder and several other bunker-like buildings. I’ve driven past it in many times my trusty Honda Civic without a second thought. But as I watched a shadowed figure emerge from the golf cart and unlock the gate in the wee hours, I knew there were secrets hidden inside. Adding to the intrigue, the area is unidentified on Apple and Google Maps and has no identifying sign outside. Shrouded in mystery and oozing with weird vibes, there is not a doubt in my mind that this is the Notre Dame version of Area 51, which I have officially named Area 42 (based on the founding year of Our Lady’s University). 

I had to learn more about the most classified area on this beautiful campus. However, the exhaustion from the 3.5-hour Taylor Swift through the ages extravaganza was hitting harder than the “Cold as You” x “Exile” mashup Taylor performed and I quickly drifted into a deep slumber. The next morning I woke more resolved than ever and marched myself to Area 42. Despite hiding top-secret experiments, there was a surprising lack of security. That being said, the eight-foot-tall fence was enough to stop me. I tried several tactics. Channeling Taylor in the ”Blank Space” music video, I pretended a nearby stick was a golf club and began swinging at the fence. But the soggy stick was no match and immediately broke in half. Tossing the stick aside, I started to Naruto run but had to stop every 10 seconds a car drove by to preserve my image of normalcy. After I gave that up, I tried picking the lock with the broken stick and failed again. Unfortunately, due to a recent tear in my Plantar Fascia, I was in no condition to climb the fence and had to walk home in defeat. 

Because I couldn’t investigate inside Area 42, I can’t be sure what sort of agenda the operators are pursuing, but I have some guesses. Inside the brick building is probably where they manufacture SIBC project leaders named Jack and John. Alternatively, it is where they keep the mythical creature that produces the ”Boom Boom” sauce. My instincts tell me they use the large cylinder building to brew a hypnotic potion that coerces students into becoming theology minors. If not, it is surely where they conduct chemical experiments on Knott Hall freshmen. The auxiliary buildings are likely where they torture students who have been OCSed in a full-out 1894 style (rats and all), until they admit to violating du Lac. What’s more? Any student who fails their first theology exam is held hostage, where they are forced to run on treadmills that power the machines projecting the hologram of the golden dome atop the main building.

But who could be behind this crazy experiment? Several suspects ran through my head: Lou Holtz, an RA alliance, the labeler or fifth-year architecture students. But in the end, it was clear that only one group could be behind this: the Glynn Family Honors program. I’ve never had a good feeling about them and I finally know why. Between the hours they spend studying everything and doing anything, they hide away conducting experiments in Area 42. 

After my failed run on Area 42, I looked up the building on Notre Dame’s official campus map where I found a short (and likely false) description of the building’s purpose. It is called East Utilities Plant and is disguised as a geothermal energy system that heats and cools campus water sustainably. How clever of them to camouflage it as a sustainability project, knowing that deep down, most students don’t care to learn about the University’s sustainability efforts. It’s too convenient of a lie. Also, if this place is dedicated to heating and cooling water, then how come the water temperature in Flaherty’s showers is so inconsistent? It doesn’t add up. But for now, as we approach the winter, all I ask is that the people behind this dedicate some of their resources to defeating the permacloud.