I was the first in my family to attend a university. Through a few small loans, jobs during vacations (making ketchup at Stokely-Van Vamp, a laborer at U.S. Steel), and working at Penn State, I made it to graduation. At Penn State, my first job was agent for a laundry company in my fraternity. My second was with the Department of Meteorology. Each weekday at 6 a.m., I would collect the overnight teletype data of weather observations and mimeograph the data for use in classes. In my junior year I was a lab assistant working for Warren Washington, a Ph.D. candidate. I interpolated data from historical weather maps and resolved the data to grid points. Next I would punch and verify the data on 80-column cards. The data was used in the development of one of the first numerical computer climate models. Washington went on to share in a Nobel Prize. I went on to be deputy director of the National Weather Service and later the director of the UN’s World Weather Watch in Geneva.
Robert Landis ’63 EMS
Oro Valley, Ariz.
As a married student with a growing family, I worked more than 20 jobs before I graduated. My first as a freshman was washing urine test tubes in the home ec department for 90 cents an hour. I got my first raise, to $1 an hour (I still have the letter). I also checked the bulletin board daily for snow shoveling, babysitting, painting jobs, etc. My sophomore year I was working evenings at Joe The Motorists’ Friend, where I met Nate Kofman and we decided we could make more money with our own business. We studied the telephone book and discovered there were no janitorial firms in State College, so we had business cards printed for Campbell & Kofman Custodial Services, which included the claim “insured for your protection.” Since we were too young to get bonded and couldn’t afford regular business insurance, we bought student health insurance, and no one ever inquired what insurance we had. We worked nights for many State College-area businesses, but my all-time favorite was Dix Cadillac, because I loved driving the new Cadillacs from the showroom so we could clean and polish the floors. Other memorable jobs included Meyers Bar, Nuclear Analysis Associates, and waxing the grand ballroom at the Boal Mansion in Boalsburg. My senior year I had three interviews with national companies and received three identical offers. I was then called into my department head’s office and offered a great job at Penn State. It turned out my professors were aware of my many jobs and recommended me for a new position. During my work at Penn State, whenever someone would inquire where a business was located in State College, my boss would say “ask Larry—he probably worked there as a student.”
Larry Campbell ’63, ’67 MS Agr
Spring Mills, Pa.
Every summer, I and another student headed up a crew that painted about a quarter of Beaver Stadium each year: sanding the rust areas in the steel, priming the areas with red leaded paint (no OSHA input!), then painting all of the steel with “Beaver Stadium Gray.” All of the wooden seats in that same quarter were sanded, painted brown, then restenciled with the same number. Some of the crew were also football players who were there for the summer. We received quite an education—and suntan.
Richard DiIlio ’70 Sci
Boulder, Colo.
During my third year of French studies, I had the good fortune to work for Dr. Robert Fitzgerald, a widowed professor of English Literature with a young son. My main function was to be at their home twice weekly when 9-year-old Chris came home from school, and to cook and have dinner with them in the evening. We three became quite close. When I got married, they were both at our wedding. Years passed, and we lost touch until Chris noticed an article attributed to me on a Penn State site. By that time, he was a foreign affairs professional with diplomatic postings around the globe, and had a wife and children. He also spoke fluent French, which pleased me! I often think back to those days, hoping I’d made a difference.
Judith Donina Wolfe ’70 Lib
Huntington Beach, Calif.
I had a job walking on a treadmill in a heat chamber as a subject in a human performance study, with a thermistor placed strategically to make sure I didn’t overheat. (Hint: It wasn’t in my mouth or armpit.) As I remember, the treadmill was set at 3 miles an hour. At one of the lower temperatures, around 70°, I walked the usual 3 miles. The principal investigator asked me whether I thought I could do three more miles. I said I could. The day I couldn’t finish 3 miles, the chamber was 110°. This taught me to be careful what I wished for in employment.
C. Sue Diehl ’68 Lib
El Cerrito, Calif.
I worked for a while as a picker at the mushroom plant on campus. It had four production rooms, each growing mushrooms under different conditions. The rooms all had one thing in common—they were cold! At the end of a shift, the mushrooms were weighed and examined for flaws; the perfect ones were sold at the Creamery or sent to local restaurants. We got to keep the ones that weren’t perfect; I remember taking home garbage bags full to my roommates and parents! The soil used in growing had a distinct odor (you can guess what that was), so my roommates made me leave my work clothes on the porch before coming into the house! I couldn’t eat mushrooms for years after my work at the mushroom plant!
Sherry Smith McCamley ’77 Edu
Cincinnati, Ohio
In the fall of 1972, I was a cook in the HUB snack bar. It was never busy in the late afternoon, and I typically stood around with nothing to do. All of a sudden, I got an order for 35 hamburgers. It didn’t make any sense, since the area was virtually empty. I looked out at the counter and saw five football players. The team ate in the HUB dining hall, but if they didn’t like what was on the menu, they were allowed to eat at the snack bar.
Denny Sherman ’72 Lib
Johnstown, Pa.
From 1964 to 1966, I was an on-air DJ on WMAJ. I hosted “Groovology” six nights a week. The British invasion started with The Beatles’ appearance on The Ed Sullivan Show on Feb. 9, 1964. It was also my first night behind the mic. I played rock from 9 to 12; music past midnight included the Great American Songbook, folk, jazz, show tunes, and movie soundtracks, and classical. The show gave me opportunities to emcee live concerts and host pep rallies, fashion shows, and a military ball. I met fellow students who listened to the show. Those were wonderful and humbling moments. I’ll never forget the many students who visited the station and the calls, cards, and letters I received from listeners. I was supported by wonderful staff at WMAJ, including Stu Chamberlain and Luanne Russell. And in 1966, I met and dated one of the show’s listeners. I married her the following year after returning from Vietnam.
Bob Resch ’65 Com
Rio Rancho, N.M.
After my first three semesters, I needed a full-time job to pay for school. The Hotel State College advertised for a janitor, and I applied. I was responsible for The Allen Street Grill, The Corner Room, Players, and the hotel rooms. I would eventually become the maintenance supervisor while attending school full time. The people that worked there were a family, and we supported each other. Our most famous guest was always Coach Paterno. The place buzzed when he was there meeting with recruits. The most important person I met was my wife, Lisa Marie. She worked at the Corner Room, and she rang me up for coffee and a blueberry muffin every day. I eventually had the courage to ask her to attend Sailors Ball at Delta Sigma Phi. She said yes, and several years later said yes again to be my wife. We would leave Penn State to have great careers, and three even greater daughters. We lost Lisa to cancer in 2020. I will always treasure those years as HSC janitor for everything that grew from it.
Darren Francke ’96 Lib
Gaithersburg, Md.
I had several jobs as a student. The first was in Old Main. There was a little room with a tape recorder and a telephone. My job was to call every single radio station in Pennsylvania, play the AccuWeather report for the day, rewind my tape recorder and call another station. This took at least two hours! The next job involved sitting in the little booths at the parking lots when visitors entered. I would hand them a map and tell them where to park. I decided I needed more hours, so I went from office to office in Chambers Building asking professors if they needed secretarial work. At about the third office, this professor looked at me and said, “How serendipitous!” She went on to say that she needed a work-study person to type papers and make copies for her. She then said, “You were in my literature class, weren’t you?” Luckily, I had gotten an A in her class, and she hired me on the spot.
In the ’80s, my husband and I moved back for graduate school. I had several jobs during that time. My favorite job was as the assistant choreographer with the Blue Band. Since I had been a majorette in the ’70s, I worked with the majorette squad getting their routines cleaned up and ready for Saturday.
Cathy Bronsdon ’76, ’84 MEd Edu
Harleysville, Pa.
During what was called “book rush,” I donned a red vest to work the lines at The Student Book Store. The store hired me to paint one of their College Avenue windows for football games. Every week all season, my task was to come up with a clever theme that included the Nittany Lion pulverizing the opponent’s mascot. I stole my lion image from the Pink Panther, adding only a blue and white scarf. I learned two things fast about painting in reverse on glass: how to paint the foreground first and then layer everything else behind, and how to paint large block letters. Occasionally I’d screw up and have to sponge it out and start again. One memorable window had the Lion reading a bedtime story to Joe and Sue Paterno’s first-born child. At the end of the season, I painted two windows: one for the last scheduled game, and one for the upcoming Orange Bowl. A photo of those windows ended up on the front page of the Centre Daily Times. Years later, I returned to Penn State as director of the Palmer Museum of Art. While my windows were light years away from museum quality, they were fun to create and provided great spending money.
Kahren Jones Arbitman ’69 A&A
Pittsburgh
Back in the day, the menu at The Tavern Restaurant used to change every day, and it was hand-typed. For a time somewhere between fall ’84 and spring ’86, I was in charge of typing the menu for the upcoming evening. At the top of the page, I would type and underline the date. I recall the typewriter looking to be about as old as the restaurant itself, with a bell dinging to alert you to return the carriage to start the next line. I would then take the finished menu and walk to a place called Kinko’s Copies. There I would have copies of the menu made and bring them back hot off the press in time for dinner service. My daily trips to Kinko’s eventually led to a job there, typing résumés for students. Incidentally, my then-boyfriend (now husband of 35 years!) had just bought the new 128K Apple Macintosh. As we began typing our own term papers and résumés on the computer, I realized we were at the dawn of a new era and that soon, my job was sure to become obsolete!
Karen Kappes Shupp ’86 Lib
Pocono Pines, Pa.
I grew up on a dairy farm and was an agricultural and education major, so it made perfect sense to work at the University Dairy Farm. I began working there my second semester, every other weekend. For the first few weeks, I walked from North Halls out to the barns. That quickly changed when my now-husband would come pick me up and drop me off, as he had a vehicle on campus. One weekend, he brought his family into the tie stall barn. They made a comment about the girl cleaning down stalls into the gutter. Little did they know a romance was brewing.
Best part was, there were four ladies and four guys that got to live in the dorms above the office area. You had to work so many hours in exchange for room and board, which came out to approximately $40 a week, and any hours over that were spending money. As you can imagine, there was a waiting list. One of my favorite memories was missing the step from the top bunk and hitting the floor at 4 a.m. Meanwhile, the morning full-time staff, nonstudents, were clocking in downstairs and heard a thump. There were lots of laughs that morning!
Ashley Hoover ’10 Agr
Patton, Pa.
I was never into football. One afternoon I was walking across campus to ticket permitless and illegally parked cars. I was a student auxiliary officer. As I was walking past Old Main, suddenly someone fell in step with me and started asking me questions—Where was I going? What was I doing? Is ticketing cars part of a job or something I do for fun? I wasn’t used to someone taking an interest in my job or even being nice to me when I was in the uniform—there had been moments of colorful words being hurled at me, but mostly I was ignored. When it came time to part ways, he made a joke about not ticketing his car. He then shook my hand and introduced himself as “Ki-Jana.” Later, I relayed this story to a friend. He looked at me in awe and proclaimed I could never wash my hand again. I didn’t have the heart to tell him I had already washed my hands several times that afternoon.
Adrienne Darrah ’98 A&A, ’12 MBA Bus, ’18 MPA UC, ’23 PhD Com
State College
My roommate Greg Repas and I had a DJ business in the mid-1980s where we would spin for fraternity parties, sorority events, and university functions. We even DJ’d/emceed the Delta Gamma Anchor Splash charity at the natatorium in front of over 1,000 people. I ended up tossed in the pool after it was all over. We worked most weekends and started each gig with McFadden & Whitehead’s “Ain’t No Stopping Us Now” and ended every night with Dionne Warwick and Luther Vandross’ “How Many Times Can We Say Goodbye.” I still have the records, made lifelong friends during those years, and I am sure our slow sets started some couples on the road to marriage.
Joe Sedlak ’86 Bus
Monroeville, Pa.
In the late 1990s, I worked as a seamstress at The Young Men’s Shop. I’d learned to sew from my mother, but it turns out that sewing cotton ladies’ sundresses has little to do with altering men’s suits. The shop managers were desperate for help keeping up with its signature custom fittings, so I was hired and placed promptly under the tutelage of the shop’s lead seamstress, Raisa. I knew even then how lucky I was to work under such a skilled woman, and I was properly intimidated. Raisa retained her strong native Russian accent and sometimes struggled to hide her exasperation with my inexperience. But we developed a rapport in the windowless workshop at the back of the store. Raisa taught me how to use the commercial press and sewing machines. She showed me how to draw curved chalk lines to custom-fit the seats of pants, let out or take in their waists, then hem them. I sew still today, and I think of Raisa often. I remember the confident motions with which she executed every action. I return to that room in my mind, grateful for the time I spent there.
Beth Goulart Monson ’99 Lib
Driftwood, Texas
My first job at New Kensington was washing dishes for $1.25 an hour. I transferred to Behrend the next year, washing dishes again. At Christmas, I worked housekeeping at the VA hospital. Later, I left the restaurant work and became a laundry delivery-truck driver. I kept that job through the summer, then withdrew from Penn State and joined the Army. Four years later, I was at University Park. Pennsylvania paid my tuition as a veteran, and the GI Bill sent me $220 a month for expenses. I still needed part-time jobs to make it, so I washed dishes again. That summer, I worked at another restaurant. I also picked apples for 25 cents a box. That fall, I stayed on at the restaurant and also sold Pepsi at the home football games. I finished my last three classes that fall, graduating debt-free! I had little social time, little participation in activities, and little money. I traded all that for a degree!
Evan Frees ’74 Bus
Mineral Wells, W.V.
Every Penn Stater knows Russ Rose is a volleyball legend. To me, he’s also a security legend. I worked at Rec Hall running the sound system for events. I was putting away sound equipment after working a volleyball match in 1995 when some ne’er-do-well attempted to take my unattended backpack. Coach Rose stopped the criminal and took my backpack with him to his office. He called me the next morning to tell me he had it. I went over to Rec Hall to recover it and had a nice conversation with him. I always appreciated that.
Walt Schmidt ’96 EMS
North Ridgeville, Ohio
I worked as a server at The Tavern. It was spring break 1982, and I had no plans to travel. One evening, the maître d’ told me that he gave me a table of eight in D section, on the top level of the restaurant. I thought it odd to seat a big party up there since the lower levels were virtually empty. Dutifully, I filled the water glasses, put them on a tray, and headed toward the diners. When I saw who was sitting at “my table,” I caught my breath—it was JoePa and his coaching staff! I was so nervous; I remember hearing the ice jingle in the glasses as I walked to the table with the water. Joe was friendly and gracious; he ordered red snapper. He also left me a very nice tip. Working over break turned out OK after all.
Donna Provenzano ’82 Com
Redwood City, Calif.
Fall 1967. North Halls, where I resided, needed students to work behind the Warnock Commons Desk. My responsibilities at the desk were varied enough that I was never bored. They consisted mainly of mail services, like delivering packages to students (I loved seeing their faces light up when they received a goody box from home), taking in and delivering dry cleaning and lost-and-found items, selling sodas, magazines, candy, and gum, and answering questions. I thoroughly enjoyed my work as a personal “concierge” for my fellow students. I came to personally know many of my neighbors, a number of whom remain among my closest Penn State friends.
Nicholas J. Uliano ’69 Edu
King of Prussia, Pa.
Once I moved off campus to the Kappa Alpha Psi Fraternity house, I worked various jobs to support my lifestyle beyond the stipend my parents provided. By far, my most memorable job was as a short-order cook at Munchies, an eatery located at the corner of Sowers Street and Calder Way. The general manager was one of my fraternity brothers, Brodus “Butch” Brock. There were often at least four Kappas working there at any one time. In fact, it was often referred to by Black students of that era as the “Kappa Kitchen.” Munchies was well known for being the spot to go to after the bars closed. The experience taught me about teamwork and how to cook a wide range of foods quickly and accurately. It didn’t hurt that I normally got to take something home to eat at the end of my shift.
Bruce B. Rush ’79 Sci, ’90 MBA Bus
Philadelphia
Between my sophomore and junior years, I worked for the housing office and had a room in Women’s Building. My shift was from 8 a.m. to 4 p.m. At 5 p.m., I reported to another dorm to hand out keys for conference attendees. At 11 p.m. I went to a room in that dorm to sleep but left the phone number at the desk for late arrivals. If someone called, I had to wake up, dress, and go to the lobby to hand out room keys. I was paid my hourly wage for the first shift, time and a half for the second, and double time for the third. I made a lot of money, since I was paid for 24 hours each working day, but I had no social life!
Nancy Brebner Mastroianni ’57 Lib
Placentia, Calif.
Right out of high school, I got a job at the Brandywine River Museum. I worked there three summers and two school years while attending the Brandywine campus. At first it was just helping out with maintenance and changing galleries over for new shows. Then I was asked to move into security as a night guard. Scary job alone, on third shift, hearing every noise you can possibly imagine. Good time, great people, good friends. Who would think I’d ever get to meet Andrew and Jamie Wyeth?
Frank Parduski ’76 Agr
Hot Springs National Park, Ark.
When I moved off campus in 1985, I brought with me my brand-new IBM Selectric typewriter, gifted from my IBMer dad. Spending money came from charging one dollar a page to type fellow students’ papers from their handwritten pages. While it sounds like chump change now, it was a pretty lucrative freelance gig, the proceeds of which I may or may not have spent at Cafe 210, G-Man, and Surf Club.
Mary Anne Leyden Greczyn ’87 Com
Arlington, Va.
In the mid-’60s, one of my part-time jobs was as a lone key-punch operator in a small windowless locked concrete room in the basement of the old psychology building. I spent months entering data on colored (and the correct color mattered) punch cards. I was preparing psychology experiment results for analysis at Penn State’s mainframe computer, which was as big as a barn. As this was the primary method of data storage and processing, accuracy was essential. I would give boxes of punched cards to a designated person for delivery to the computer center. Then I held my breath: If I had made one mistake on one card, the entire box was rejected and returned to me. I learned a great deal from this seemingly boring job. I found out that I could concentrate in noisy environments and that I’m content to work alone. It also established my working philosophy that the devil is in the details. Another of my college-year jobs was much more stressful: typing a psychology Ph.D. candidate’s doctoral thesis. NO errors and NO Wite-Out allowed. Alas, personal computers didn’t exist, and the typewriter was unforgiving. Make a mistake, and it was total do-over. If it hadn’t been for the 25-cent Cokes from the vending machine, I’m not sure I could have finished.
Charlotte Rohm Long ’67 Lib
Panama City Beach, Fla.
During my junior and senior years, I worked at the Pollock cafeteria. I was living in Pollock on my sorority floor, and the cafeteria job was convenient due to the short commute. I was often assigned to the football training table, which was cool—during those two years we played in two national championship games! Many employees would bring in their game-day programs and put them at the front of the serving line, and the players would sign their autographs on their picture (I still have mine). The busiest days were Chicken Cosmos days! Almost everyone had to work dinner on those days, with many of us guarding the exits—students weren’t allowed to take food out of the cafeteria. We were supposed to check bags and jackets as they left. Let’s just say, if our supervisors weren’t watching, I am not sure our searches were very thorough. On the other hand, the least-popular dinner was when lamb and mint jelly was served. Lots of cereal was eaten on those days!
Kelley M. Lynch ’87 Bus
Pittsburgh
During my freshman and sophomore years, I delivered for Home Delivery Pizza for a dollar an hour. The owner was friendly with the football players, and there were always a couple hanging around. It seemed like every time we got an order from one West Halls dorm, someone would go into the back of our unlocked delivery van to steal pizzas. One time, after getting a suspect order, the owner convinced a couple of the larger linemen to hide in the back of our van with the pizzas in an attempt to catch the thief. I parked in the lot and went on my way making deliveries. It wasn’t long before I heard loud growls followed by profanity and rapid footsteps. Around the corner came a frightened student closely pursued by two screaming linemen. He should have gone out for track, for he outran the players leaving only a slipper behind for evidence. And, yes—the thieving stopped.
Robert Avakian ’68 EMS
Tulsa, Okla.
Back in the ’80s, the coveted resident assistant role offset tuition significantly, guaranteed a single room, and offered a generous meal plan. What a game changer being an RA was in the way of friendships forged, insights gained, and practical experience earned. Blown fuses and “doing rounds” while on duty during football weekends built character. The Office of Residential Life was way ahead of the diversity movement, training us to be ambassadors of inclusion. I am forever grateful to Counselor Education 302 goddess Diane Gewartoski Farnsworth. She armed hundreds of us 20-somethings with reflective listening and nonverbal skills. “How does that make you feel?” Very, very fortunate to have found many members of my Penn State family through this role!
Judy Barkus ’87 H&HD
State College
At 12 years old I said I wanted to be a Marine, a lawyer, and serve my country. I left home at 18 and moved out on my own. Luckily, I got a part-time job in housekeeping at the Altoona Veterans Administration Hospital. For over four years, I was a janitor who worked weekends, summers, and holidays, mopping floors and cleaning showers and toilets with small toothbrushes. I learned gratitude for a job regardless of the work, and I have never forgotten that people on the bottom of the pay scale are incredibly valuable. I graduated, then attended Duquesne Law School while working doing quality control part time for the federal Census Bureau. I never thought these jobs would amount to anything long-term in my life. Once I had my law degree, I joined the Marine Corps and served over 10 years, including in a combat company for Desert Storm. I am now a senior counsel at the U.S. Securities and Exchange Commission and have 43 years of federal service. Those years as a janitor count for my pension.
Eric Young ’80 Lib
Reston, Va.
I attended Penn State Delco from 1976 to ’78, and University Park from 1978 to ’80. For 3½ of those four years, I worked at Habbersett’s meat packing plant in Media, Pa. They made the best scrapple in the Philly area! I was responsible for skins and livers when I worked in the scrapple room. I was in the meat cutter’s union making $5.78/hour, which was quite a bit more than the minimum wage at that time of $2.10. That job paid for my four years of education and most of my living expenses in my two years at University Park.
John Hamilton ’80 Bus
Media, Pa.
I held a variety of jobs during my college years: supermarket checker/shelf stocker, painter, mason, household mover, and maintenance technician in a low-income housing project. I never forgot the lessons I learned working those jobs. Whether it was painting 2,000-plus high school lockers battleship gray, unloading furniture from a hot railroad boxcar, or sweeping the streets of a housing project, I learned what it means to put in a full day’s work. I acquired useful skills that I was able to draw on once I owned a home. I had a long career as an IT executive but never lost respect for the people who do manual labor. Best of all, I’ll never forget what that summer job working at a housing project meant to me. I earned $2 an hour and saved every penny I could to buy my girlfriend an engagement ring. We got engaged my senior year and now have been married 51-plus years. I can’t think of a better investment I could have made with that hard-earned money!
Alan T. Chimel ’72 Bus
Plano, Texas
I caught the PSflu. Coughing, body aching, barely hearing out of my left ear, I dragged myself to my 7 a.m. coffee shop shift at South Dining Hall. As a first-semester student, I felt alone and longed to go home. The cashier, Louisa, greeted me with a big smile. Mitsy, a full-time employee, handed me a bag: “I brought you some mangos.” Louisa then offered to make me tea with honey. I felt overwhelmed with support and realized I wasn’t alone at all.
Two years later, in 2023, I began working at The Writing Center @ Penn State Learning. Preparing to present at the National Conference on Peer Tutoring in Writing in Pittsburgh, I felt nervous. My friend Julianna and I couldn’t afford the nearby restaurants, so we set out to find cheaper food but got lost in traffic. Our supervisors, Beth and Tabitha, texted us in our group chat with tips and encouragement, turning our stressful situation into laughter and, later, a FaceTime call. I knew I had people looking out for me, and I found a home away from home. Finding a job at Penn State didn’t just give me a paycheck; it gave me a place to belong.
Kyli Ramsay
Broadheadsville, Pa.
From wrestling gigantic pots in a sudsy sink (West Dining Hall) to putting a corporate-mandated number of pepperoni slices on pizzas (Pizza Hut), I held a bunch of interesting jobs. My favorite was at the Nittany Lion Inn. A highlight was when the Inn hosted the cast of Hoffa. I eagerly awaited my chance to meet the actors, especially Jack Nicholson. On the last day of filming, I popped by to pick up my paycheck. As I walked through the empty corridor to the lobby, I greeted a tall older man passing by; I didn’t register who I was talking to until he replied. I turned around quickly; unbelievably, Jack had turned around toward me! I had to say more, but what? I asked him where he was off to next. With his signature grin and a touch of sarcasm, he responded, “I’m only going to Pittsburgh.” Sadly, I didn’t ask him the 101 questions I thought of later. Instead, I said, “Oh. I’m here to pick up my paycheck. Have fun!”
Robin Hollis ’92 Com
Atlanta
I consider myself fortunate to have had the job I had at my grandfather’s trash-hauling business in Duquesne, Pa., Long’s Hauling Company. Many of my peers on the routes had 20 to 30 years of service. I was a summer hire and alternated between working around the garage and substituting on the routes for men who took their summer vacations. Around the garage, the work was varied. I would clean and deliver dumpsters to businesses, run for parts, fuel trucks as they returned for the day. Many of the municipalities we serviced had carry-out service where we picked up the trash from the back of the property using a large drum that we carried on our shoulder. On some occasions, I even got the opportunity to drive the trucks.
Bill Stewart ’79 Bus
Bartlesville, Okla.
I worked a semester as a student auxiliary officer. It was dull as dirt, consisting mainly of guarding the Palmer Museum and trying not to get run over directing traffic on football weekends. One night was different, though. In 1990, we played at No. 1 Notre Dame. There was a tradition at that time for students to storm the field after a big win and tear down the goalposts. Four or five of us student officers were assigned to Beaver Stadium that night just in case we won. We made a tour of the stadium and then went to sit in someone’s car to listen to the game.
When Penn State kicked a last-second field goal to win, we were ecstatic. Joy quickly gave way to terror: As the final whistle blew and we tumbled out of the car, cheering from every corner of Happy Valley washed over us. Soon after, our dispatcher informed us that several thousand students were heading in our direction. This scenario had not been covered in our training material. Due to construction, the fences on the north end had been removed and reattached with cable ties. We headed there, and so did the crowd, like a zombie apocalypse. We dislodged those who tried to climb the fence, dodging beer bottles and rubbish barrels hurled in our direction. The crowd eventually tore down a section of fence and flooded onto the field. We focused our efforts on one goalpost, pulling people off one by one until the real police turned up and took over. In the end, we’d managed to save that goalpost. The other goalpost was hauled up the stands and over the side of the stadium, then joyfully paraded around town. It was later cut up, the pieces distributed to those of us who’d been there that night. I still have the memories of an amazing win and a wild night, and a 6-inch section of white steel tubing to prove it.
Paul Conroy ’93 Lib
London, U.K.
