ELItorial: Letter from Payne Whitney

I write from one of my favorite places at Yale, Floor 9B of Payne Whitney Gym. It is one of the quietest, most solitary places I know on campus. I have always loved to wander around buildings, and a couple years ago, somehow ended up at the Solarium at the top of the gym.

Recently, the doors to the outside have been opened, so it's chilly sitting there on the floor. Last night, I went out onto the roof in the dark. The reflections of the walls in deep puddles gave an illusion of deep holes in the gravel, so I tiptoed carefully around the enclosure. Under street lights and a fading coverlet of snow, New Haven looked quiet and unfamiliar. The perspectives from the top were very different from the sidewalk views I see every day.

I read that New Haven once had a building code that prohibited buildings taller than nine stories. Yale circumvented this mandate by building balcony floors in Payne Whitney and Mezzanine levels in Sterling Memorial Library. Hence, instead of going from the fifth to the sixth floor in the gym, one actually goes from 5 to 5B to 6 to 6B and so on. Novice rowers quickly learn that a run from 5 to 9B is really nine floors, not four. There are 331 steps from the basement to 9B. I counted freshman year.

Many times, I have sat on the top step to rest and then walked around without my sneakers, decorating the black steps with a sweaty sockprint motif. It is usually very windy up in the Tower, and tonight is no different. Up there, the window panes rattle with each gust of wind. I have experienced all sorts of weather on 9B--rain (the roof leaks a bit), a thunderstorm, hard sleet; everything but sun, which is ironic for a solarium.

Although it is usually peaceful there late at night, it isn't as quiet when people run stairs. I can hear them panting around 7 or 7B. I walk down slowly. I encounter arcs of sweat droplets and spit around each turn. Sometimes I can tell from a sweaty handprint where someone leaned for support (à la Titanic--when I saw that scene, I thought of running stairs at Payne Whitney).

Everyone has a quiet place at Yale. Oddly, I've chosen a cold building full of exercise equipment as mine. As Audrey Hepburn sang in "Wouldn't It Be Loverly," "All I want is a room somewhere." I've got hundreds of rooms and other quiet places in the gym when it's not busy. In prep school, I would alternate study and play in the squash courts. With their glass backs, sterile walls, and pristine floors, they were airy and silent, conducive to concentration.

During the daytime, a seat by a lamp in the Payne Whitney Gym lobby is a pretty good place to read. I've also read by the pool while watching the divers practice. I most frequently read and study in the crew tanks. At mid-morning, the water that becomes our own roaring river in the afternoons is a mere trickling brook. I find it peaceful to be surrounded by the two things most important to me at Yale--books and crew.

With a gym this large, there are many solitary places. Not many people use the outdoor jogging track with its separating rubber mats and views of East Rock and New Haven. Sometimes after I run there, I just sit in the dark and listen to the clatter and clank of weights coming from the sixth floor.

Right now, the bare lightbulbs, empty ceilings, and sealed-off hallways of Payne Whitney are foreboding. But I love the building for its mysterious doors and empty hallways. It almost seems a waste to heat and light these areas where few people go, but I appreciate it.

The gym renovations are expected to make certain areas of the gym more accessible and welcoming. But even when the renovations are complete, I hope that some of my favorite spots do not become high-traffic zones. I suppose this is unlikely.

Well, my goose bumps are developing goose bumps of their own and the last heaving, panting runner has gone back downstairs for good. I guess I'd better walk down those 331 steps now.

Back to Sports...