Vanderbilt's greatest mysteries - solved
Robyn Hyden
Issue date: 4/15/09 Section: Culture
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Vanderbilt, it turns out, does not have many rumors or mysteries relative to other campuses. Yes, I once heard that you get full tuition paid if you get run over by a Vandy Van – but nobody really believes that, and certainly no one has ever tried it. But other than that, we don’t have any really good ghost stories, or strange rumors to perpetuate. This really is a shame.
There are, however, some curious features of campus that have led to a certain amount of speculation, and it is these that I hope to address in this article.
I. The curious case of the tunnels
The mythic history of the Vanderbilt tunnels surely goes back for several decades. The rumor I heard upon coming to campus was that the tunnels were closed-off passageways that had previously connected all of the dorms on main campus to Sarratt, Wilson, Stevenson, and the medical center. Nobody knew quite why the tunnels had been blocked, though I envisioned them as something like the tunnel linking Towers East to Towers West. I even heard a rumor (undoubtedly influenced by the memory of the Hogwarts secret passage leading to Hogsmeade) that one tunnel leads out to Hillsboro Village, the land of the Villager, the Belcourt, and of course pancakes. Of course, this was a fanciful idea - but many ideas about the tunnels are.
I found one 1995 Hustler article about the tunnels that repeated several tunnel myths in vogue at the time, many of which seem to have disappeared from circulation. One was the idea that the tunnels housed Vanderbilt’s large art collection, and that “students have been caught down there because they’ve tripped infrared beams that the University set up as a security measure to keep people from stealing the art.” Another student repeated the myth that the Chancellor had “some sort of underground monorail bunker system to protect him in the event of a nuclear attack...He rides from Kirkland Hall in his silver chariot all the way to 400 feet underneath Stevenson... but I’m not sure if that’s true.” Several other rumors seemed to have envisioned the tunnels as an escape hatch leading from the Chancellor’s mansion.
Then, as now, students believed that being caught in the tunnels might lead to automatic expulsion, although the administration has debunked this myth, claiming that one would only be charged with “unauthorized trespassing” as long as it was only a first offense.
I was never driven to explore Vanderbilt’s tunnels further until I unearthed some interesting information about them, quite by accident. An anonymous source who claimed to know about “tunneling” pointed me to an ancient Angelfire website, dated 2001, with evidence of student explorations of the tunnels. The site contained explicit information about entering the tunnels, and photos of what one might find inside. Until very recently, it seems, students were exploring the tunnels with little fear of getting caught.
As the website explained, there are several entrances to the tunnels on main campus - one in the medical center, one through a hidden manhole cover, and many others through doors in dorms and academic buildings (which are often locked). My source warned me that the information contained on this website was “deliberately misleading”; apparently, people who use the tunnels are extremely secretive about them.
What I have learned (from my top secret investigation) is this: the tunnels are extremely cramped, hot, and unpleasant - certainly not a good backdrop for laser tag, or storing an art collection. Photos taken of the inside show spaces that are barely six feet high and three feet wide; some spaces seem much smaller. There do, however, seem to be offshoots of the tunnels with small storage rooms or old equipment, and there are weird treasures inside, for those who are interested in the detritus of decades gone by. One photo I have obtained shows a strange piece of equipment with a switchboard and an old intercom system, seeming to date from the 50s. Another room, looking for all the world like an interrogation room or torture chamber with its lone chair and exposed light bulb, seems to have contained a massive circuitboard computer at some time in the past. Photos also reveal chalk drawings left by tunnel explorers, which leads me to wonder if they have some sort of secret code, like hobos.
In reality, the tunnels are not quite as mysterious as they once seemed to me; they primarily serve to bring power from plant operations to the rest of campus. They do indeed extend under much of main campus and the medical center. With the construction of the Commons, new tunnels have been added under Peabody.
Unbeknownst to myself, I had actually entered the tunnels before, as a volunteer at the Medical Center. The ground floor of the hospital is used for the storage of dirty linens, dead bodies, and many other things, but if you walk far enough, you will enter the utility shaft. One wing of the tunnel is the janitorial entrance, with a timeclock where employees can punch in. Another offshoot of the tunnel leads right into the basement of Stevenson. This confirms the impression that I have often formed while wandering around lost in the Steveson Center complex - that if you wander down the wrong hallway, you might find yourself in an entirely different part of campus.
Certainly, I can’t advocate exploring the tunnels yourself. Aside from the fact that you have to break some major rules to find them, they seem like they could be quite hard to navigate and, for the most part, not as glamorous as the one would hope. However, it does seem that we need to start some new rumors about Vanderbilt’s tunnels. Because, let’s face it, the ones we have are kind of boring.
Researching tunneling myths at other universities, I found a few common threads. Perhaps we can use them as inspiration for our own tunnel mythology.
Most rumors concern tunnels being used for after-hours pranks, allowing students to enter buildings late at night. (As far as I know, nobody at Vanderbilt has ever done anything like this.) Several universities boast rumors of top-secret societies related to the tunnels, including Georgetown University, which claims that members of its elite groups have access “directly to the White House” - both literally, via the tunnels, and figuratively, via relationships with other secret society members in high government offices. (While I have heard tell of a Vanderbilt secret society using the tunnels, I have no idea what they would do with them.) Several older schools claimed their tunnels were used to smuggle escaped slaves as part of the Underground Railroad. (I don’t think Vanderbilt is old enough to start this rumor). Other colleges have stories of students using the tunnels to play Dungeons and Dragons. (Unfortunately, all of the D&D people at Vandy just stay in the basement of McGill). In Ian Caldwell’s novel “The Rule of Four,” Princeton’s utility tunnels are used to play secret games of laser tag. (Does anyone still play laser tag?)
Tunnels also provide a rich backdrop for horror stories. Many rumors involve students, profs or janitors who wander into the tunnels and become trapped, only surfacing on rare occasions to haunt students (maybe that’s where Constance Gee went?). Others concern creatures who wander the tunnels. In the 1970s, the University of Arizona’s school paper published a rumor that a monkey had escaped from the research lab into underground passageways. Campus grounds employees twenty years later still claimed to fear encountering the wild monkey in the depths. (I could envision a story like that here...Wilson lab, anyone?) In a related theme, I’ve heard the rumor that a horror movie was filmed in Vanderbilt’s tunnels in 2004 featuring a second-rate rapper whose name nobody can seem to remember, although I have yet to find any evidence of this. True or not, this is clearly a story that needs to become a more widely known aspect of Vanderbilt lore.
What is it about tunnels that inspire such fervent interest among students? Perhaps tunnels are inherently mysterious. They are inaccessible to students, and underground; of course we want to know what’s hidden there. A study that appeared in the New York Folklore Society’s magazine claimed that tunnel myths function to form student identity. It pointed out that, although tunnel myths are meant to be unique to each university, they are ironically very similar to the urban legends found at other schools. However, since each myth is tailored to the unique history of its school, and is tied into the school’s own unique landscape, they nonetheless reinforce a collective student identity.
Another thesis tentatively proposed by the authors is that students use tunneling myths to subvert the university power structure. Students are often powerless in relation to the bureaucracy of the school, and don’t have access to the privileged information of school administrations. Much like other conspiracy theories, tunneling folklore claims to know some secret truth that is not widely acknowledged. Students who use the tunnels are able to break rules and learn secret information - in this way, they are subversive.
It seems that tunnels function as a rich ground for creative tales and campus legends. I myself am a bit disappointed that there isn’t more discussion about our own tunnels. Part of that is because the University has been active in disenchanting students about tunnel rumors; at least two articles have appeared in the last ten years (one in the Hustler, one in the Vanderbilt Magazine) which gave reporters access to the tunnels, in order to kill some of the mystery and speculation surrounding them. “I wondered what I had gotten myself into,” wrote one reporter; “The tunnels were hot and dirty, and I was standing in a shallow puddle of an unidentifiable liquid. I was starting to sweat. This was not my idea of fun.” Well, nothing kills the mystery more than being awkwardly sweaty - that, and pictures of trashy, grimy, dank places that accompanied the article.
With any luck, however, the generations of Vanderbilt students to come won’t forget about the possibilities inherent in Vanderbilt’s mysterious underworld.
II. The case of the mysterious hiking trail
Returning to campus this year, you may have noticed a curious addition to our campus sidewalks: tiny green signs with arrows pointing in random directions along Vanderbilt’s footpaths. This mystery is perhaps not as exciting as the secret tunnels, although I have to admit that it intrigues me almost as much.
For one thing, the signs don’t seem to be organized in any coherent way. They don’t follow one single trail across campus. In fact, if you start at one and try to follow it anywhere, you are bound to get confused. At various junctures there are three or more arrows pointing down all available paths; at other junctures, there is no arrow telling you which way to go; and, at one point on the path from Peabody to main campus, there are two arrows that point back at each other. Is one supposed to bounce back and forth indefinitely?
For another thing, the signs are often accompanied by an icon of a little hiking man with a backpack. One location is even designated as the trail head. Are people seriously meant to hike the trails of Vanderbilt? And if so, why do they need arrows to tell them that, yes, you can walk this way, or this way, or, eally any way.
I could find seemingly no explanation for these signs. Friends offered various interpretations of what the arrows meant. Many thought they were supposed to help blind people - until they realized that would be impossible, as the signs lay perfectly flat.
Finally fed up with wondering what these arrows could mean, I telephoned plant operations. They directed me to the rec center, where I reached an enthusiastic student worker named Arielle who seemed just as interested in solving the mystery as I was. I emailed several employees in the departments of health and recreation (there’s quite a few of them). Someone suggested that I email the guy who designed the National Arboretum park trail.
In response to my queries, I received three emails at about the same time. “Robyn....mystery continues...call marilyn holmes...she will give you final clues“ wrote the director of the Rec. center. Arielle emailed me to say that she had conducted an investigation and had discovered the answer.
The answer, as it turns out, is not nearly as exciting as I had hoped. Apparently, Health Plus, the faculty and staff wellness program, designed the trails as an incentive for staff to walk more. There is even a website where you can go to download maps of the walking routes.
No word yet on why all of the arrows are green (even though there are at least five separate trails designated, which often overlap) or why staff and faculty would even need a map to figure out how to walk on Vandy sidewalks.
III. The case of the alarming statistics
This is not really a mystery with any meaningful answer, although it is a feature of campus life that seems to have inspired some consternation and confusion. I am referring to the Office of Alcohol, Tobacco, and Other Drug Prevention’s campaign - a flurry of posters, flyers, and even coffee mugs that are emblazoned with bold statistics about the Vanderbilt student body drawn from the 2008 CORE survey of student habits.
This campaign is confusing because many of the statistics seem ambiguous at best, and at worst, down right alarming.
One sign reads: “5 out of 6 Vanderbilt students do not smoke.” That is, uh, great, I guess - but what am I supposed to draw from that piece of information? And another sign reads, “63% of Vanderbilt students reported having 0-4 drinks in a typical week.” So is that a good thing? Are we bragging here?
Another more troubling statistic reads “93% of Vanderbilt men said they would not have sex with a partner who was too drunk to consent.” Uhhh - that’s great, I suppose, but that means that 7% of Vanderbilt men would essentially admit to rape, in a survey. And that scares me.
The OATOD claims that they conduct the CORE survey to correct student misconceptions about alcohol and drug use. And yet, these statistics only provide a strange snapshot of the admitted drug habits of a small portion of the student body without commenting on them critically. We are left to wonder if it is a good or a bad thing that 30% of sophomores report never having used alcohol. Whatever you think of this statistic, I seriously doubt it is going to change your own personal drinking habits.
In the future, I would hope that the OATOD will consider a less ambiguous campaign and perhaps will consider providing information that is more relevant to student experience.
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