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Ringing in another 1,000 years of infamy

By Orianne Dutka

The years 1998 and 1999 at Yale won the scandal booby prize, thanks to the controversial Antonio Lasaga and Suzanne Jovin/James Van de Velde sagas. But don't think Yale was unpracticed in scandal—our glorious 300 years of history are riddled with aberration, scandals, riots, corpse thefts, and disruptions of the peace.

Yale's earliest years were its most difficult, labeled "the tumultuous years" by historian Brooks Kelley, BR '53, in his chronicle Yale: A History. Thomas Clap's presidency from 1740 to 1766 was particularly notorious for provoking student riots. In 1753, Clap began a struggle with Joseph Noyes, pastor of the First Church of New Haven, who was dubbed "the dullest minister in all New England." When Clap decided to build a rival chapel for a college congregation on Yale's campus, students didn't wait long to erupt. On the night of April 10, 1758, students fired guns, rang bells, and broke windows until the sheriff arrived to break it up. The dispute apparently provoked a rash of sacrilegious activity—monitor's bills for March 1761 shows several students missed morning and evening prayers more than 70 times. In October 1761, three fathers of Yale students complained that "for the last half year little or no [religious] Study has been done." It was not explained to these parents that their sons had been busy rioting and looting.

About 30 years later, Yale's fledgling ivory tower crumbled further. At the time, New Haven's port brought many shiftless, nomadic sailors who habitually roamed the town. Frail, scholarly Yalies made easy targets for the strapping sailors. The first recorded display of hostility between the two groups occurred on February 18, 1799. One student wrote, "We were alarmed by the cry of sailors and the lower sort of town people, who came to whip the scholars, under pretense of having been challenged by them...they dispersed about nine having wounded one scholar badly and one or two slightly." By 1806, the 19th-century turf warfare had escalated to the point where an official office of College Bully was instituted. The position was banned 40 years later, due to an absence of offending sailors. (It is believed the last College Bully is now a bouncer at Toad's.)

In 1824, town-gown relations suffered again when it was discovered that a body had been removed from the West Haven cemetery and brought to the Medical School. Townspeople made attacks on the school for five nights, causing much destruction on campus.

Yalies have one less worry, at least, about the coming millennium: the rest of the world might collapse into chaos, but Yale's food will stay consistently awful. In 1828, students rose up in the Bread and Butter Rebellion. They insisted they would not eat in Commons—then a mandatory requirement—until the food got better. Yale expelled four suspected ringleaders, but the rebellion only ended after the college was temporarily closed. Commons became voluntary in 1839 and closed entirely in 1842. From then until 1932, students made their own eating arrangements.

May Day weekend of 1970 again found the Yale Administration under national scrutiny. From May 1 to 3, a rally was held to protest the injustice of the trial of Black Panther Chairman Bobby Seale, charged with murder. The Administration agreed to open Yale for food, shelter, day care, and first aid for visiting demonstrators. Academic activities were suspended for the event. Addressing the faculty, President Kingman Brewster, TD '41, said, "I am appalled and ashamed that things should have come to pass so that I am skeptical of the ability of Black revolutionaries to achieve a fair trial anywhere in the United States." In response, United States Vice President Spiro Agnew called on Yale alumni to demand Brewster's resignation. Yet the Yale community supported Brewster, and Agnew's accusations went to no avail.

More recently, in April 1995, the Yale community was shocked when it was discovered that Lon "L.T." Grammer had forged his transcript and teacher recommendations when he applied to transfer from Cuesta Community College in Luis Obispo, Calif. After receiving a financial aid package upon his acceptance to Yale, Grammer had foolishly bragged to several friends that Yale admitted him under false pretenses. He was expelled one month before he was expected to graduate with a degree in political science. Fraud became comedy last year when Beau Bauman, SM '99, a student filmmaker, turned Grammer's story into the movie Ivy Weeds.

As we lurch into the next millennium, Yalies can take pride in the fact that our institution has historically had more riots than L.A., more scandals than President Clinton, LAW '73, and more corruption than the House of Representatives. The year 2000 better be feeling naughty, 'cause Yale is coming!

Graphic by Shawn Cheng.

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