Pugnacious Pranks by Otterbein Class of 1916-17
It may have had something to do with the looming of war, or the accompanying inflation. Or it might have been the Presidential Election, that every-four-year contest when Americans go a little crazy – or a lot. It is hard to imagine getting worked up about the contest between Charles Evans Hughes and Woodrow Wilson today, but it was a close election and must have been exciting at the time. But during the fall of 1916, Otterbein College experienced several incidents of hazing and pranks. They may have been funny or laughable. College hijinks are always on a razor thin border between harmless fun and deadly earnest. Check the recent news from Bowling Green State University if you don’t believe me.
Two of the incidents were related. On September 18, 1916, eleven Otterbein freshman were “hurled into the chilly waters of Alum creek at Westerville late Tuesday night by a party of 30 or more” by members of the Sophomore class. The Freshmen were lured out to the creek using the ruse of an invitation to a creek side wiener roast. “The first batch of six were dumped into the stream without ceremony.” But the next five were told, in a speech, that the first six had made the stream “warm and pleasant.” Exactly how was left to the imagination.
Payback came Wednesday night. A “melee between members of the two classes” ended with two sophomores getting a “dose of their own medicine.” At this point, President Clippinger stepped in. He suspended six students identified as being among the rioters. Oddly, four of the six were seniors, apparently participating just for fun! In a statement, Clippinger stated that the suspended students could re-enroll “as soon as they felt they were able to adapt themselves to Otterbein customs.”
A third incident took place in the Spring, on April 14, 1917. This incident had a rather complicated back story. On the previous Thursday night, members of the Freshman and Junior classes stole the caps and gowns that had just arrived for wearing at Chapel on Friday. Whether out of anger, revenge or both, members of the Senior class hid themselves on Friday evening outside a literary society meeting, then proceeded to kidnap six members of the freshman class. The Freshies were bundled into a farm wagon, hauled by a Ford tractor, “then taken three miles out into the country and abandoned.” The triumphant Seniors paraded through the streets of Westerville, while the Freshman were eventually rescued by a group of Juniors. Meanwhile Freshman girls were tastefully ducked in Senior bathtubs.
One of the freshmen, George Francis, escaped by jumping out a second story window of Towers Hall. No injuries were reported. Francis, whose father John Francis was superintendant of Columbus City Schools, came from a teaching family. So much for putting your child in a private school for a “better” education!
I make no claim that the Class of 1916-17 was any more or less rowdy than any other. Male students lived in rooming houses, not dorms, and were (probably?) less supervised than later generations. It may have been a coincidence. But it gives us additional insight into life at Otterbein during the “Great War.”
[news items from The Columbus Dispatch.]
Otterbein students mucking about in Alum Creek. [date unknown] Otterbein University Archives]