Kirkland’s Menagerie: Animals on Campus
Over Fallcoming Weekend in 2008, four Kirkland women (Shelley Cowan, Jo Pitkin, Jennie Morris and Judy Silverstein), who were all staying at Woody Root’s house, went for a long walk in the beautiful October sunshine. In the middle of a denuded cornfield, a tiny black kitten appeared and assertively joined them, continually gamboling between their legs. Despite their best efforts to find his home, it became very clear that this kitten decided he belonged with them. Following much admiration and discussion, this kitten became mine. We thought of naming him Kirkland (which seemed a bit much for such a tiny thing), but I settled on Sam (for Sam Babbitt).
The Dana family's rescued cat, Sam
As one might imagine, the discovery by this kitten of a group of Kirkland women (and it was truly all his engineering the situation) evoked memories and much discussion about pets on the Hill during our Kirkland years.
Dogs abounding! In the dining halls! In McEwen, I watched a large canine snatch one poor fellow’s steak off his tray on Steak-Night – the dog was happy, but the student was not, when told that he could not get a replacement steak. At lunch in Commons, two large dogs got into a fight underneath my table. As it escalated, we stepped away from our plates to helplessly watch the fray, which only stopped when the dogs startled themselves by flipping the table over.
Eeyore at Chi Psi with rock
My freshman roommate, Mikki Stevens, brought her Chihuahua “Pooper” with her, and he greeted me my very first day on campus. She later added a lab rat to the menagerie, whose squeaky wheel ran endlessly through the night, a sharp accompaniment to Mikki’s snoring. My suitemate, Melanie Roth, had her Amazon Gray parrot “Toukee”, who still thrives, chirps, and does that indescribable rusty nut on a screw noise, which we could hear all the way out in the parking lot behind Milbank. I still have a “Toukee” feather in my dictionary – a rainbow reminder of those salad days.
Having grown up in a cat/dog home, “Toukee” introduced me to the world of birds, and I did obtain some Zebra finches at the Utica Mall (of all places) who bred and bred – I set an alarm clock and fed those ugly, blind, bald things until they matured. At the peak, I had 11 in my room in B Dorm. Next door, Carol Carbonaro had her two rabbits, one of which was named “Sach” after the Bowery Boys’ character. Judy Silverstein had her ducks, and Woody Root recalled chickens roosting in the bathroom sinks of one of the back dorms.
I recall telling the Commons dog fight story to Laurie Honors a few years ago over lunch, where we were sharing a now-square table with some students. One of them was listening intently, and asked in all sincerity whether we thought he could use that story as support for a request to have a dog on campus, sort of a grandfathering. I said I didn’t think so – the current Student Handbook provisions about dogs effectively preclude that possibility.
Eeyore at Bristol Campus Center
But back in the day, when Olive (c. 1964-1978) and Eeyore reigned supreme on the two campuses, animals were not only allowed but welcomed, although there were different rules for Hamilton and Kirkland students. What was not to like about dogs like Olive, who hitchhiked, attended classes, slept in the dorms and never missed a meal in the dining halls? And Eeyore, who lived in Chi Psi and was obsessed with rocks, and was darned good at Frisbee?
Senior year, my friends and I all said, “When Olive dies, Kirkland dies.” We meant it and believed it, but who would have thought that Olive would indeed go to doggy heaven that same spring?
But now, those Kirkland women who discussed the future of Sam—our collective Kirkland cat who resides with my family—regularly ask after him and insist on seeing him when they are at my house. Sam is a nod to the past, while looking to the future for us. What are your recollections about the menagerie on campus?
by Penny Watras Dana K’78
For more on campus animals check out “Make Way for Ducklings,” read the comments below and add your own story!
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From the 1976-1977 Hamilton/Kirkland Student Handbook
The Ghost of Christmas Past
An invitation to A Christmas Carol furnished by Jo Pitkin K'78. Click on the image for a larger view.
At some point in Kirkland’s history, a new holiday tradition arose. To the delight of her students, some members of the faculty and administration gathered to recite A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens. This dramatic reading was variously held in the Red Pit, in the Kirner-Johnson auditorium, and in a candlelit lounge in McEwen (near where Cafe Opus is currently located). Read President Sam Babbitt’s recollections of this annual celebratory event and add your own:
“The reading of A Christmas Carol was great fun – all faculty, reading from a version that I edited so that I read most of the descriptions, and they did all the dialogue. What sticks in my mind was the terrifying moans that emanated from Gene Putala as Marley’s ghost!
I think our (my?) original thought was to read the whole Christmas Carol, but then that would have taken too long, so I began to edit, and we thought it would be great to have faculty/staff do the dialogue. I don’t remember doing it four times, but at least twice. . . .the details fade, except for Gene’s moans, and I wore a top hat with holly in the band. I still have it.”
by Jo Pitkin K’78 and Judy Silverstein Gray K’78
Autumnal Memories
| Just a few weeks ago, Archives, Media and Publications sent out a email hoping to spark alumni recollections of fall on the Hill. Here are some of the responses we have received: |  |
I Remember
-Beth Wang Nast ‘79
I remember the bakery had hot raisin bread on Friday nights.
The Roc had the liveliest pool games in America.
I remember the drinking age was much younger then (18), so beer was everywhere.
I remember dinner at Coach Richardson’s home for the tennis team– she made chicken and broccoli with cheese and it was terrific. What a preppie name: Channing Bullfinch Richardson the 3rd…I was not preppie.
I remember Dave Millar and his very tough American DIPLO class, nearly failed it.
I remember my poetry teacher, who was famous and still is: Tess Gallagher.
I remember snow all year– and a few nice days to play Frisbee up at Griffin Road lawn, where I once lived.
I remember Alteiri’s, only ‘cuz someone just told me they went there, WOW, still there, amazing.
Now that my son is at Hobart and I drive by, I will stop by (the campus) some day. Fortunately, my life is utter happiness now and my boys all are very happy individuals. I married an optimist.
You are doing a great thing…
A Montage of Other Memories and Comments:
From a few Kirkland women and a Hamilton man, who asked to remain anonymous as they continue to ponder their college years:
“I wish I could write something on the website, but I cannot right now. I have a rush of feelings that are intensely personal. You created an evocative place for those who went to, befriended, taught at, visited, worked at or just liked the idea of Kirkland College, the last coordinate womens college in America. Thank you.”
“I should be doing so many other things today, but your recent and lovely email got my memory revved up. It brought up intense memories- of my parents, my younger self and how exciting college was. We have lost so much. But then your email came as a gift and I find myself reaching back to remember so many things about an interesting place and an important part of my life.”
“I can’t stop thinking about Kirkland since I read the note about new posts coinciding with the start of fall semester. I found myself slipping back a few decades and could almost be that 19-year-old amongst my friends in our little quad. I so clearly recall the smell of apples at the cider mill, the smell of raisin bread at Jake’s, the first frost and even that sherry with the Babbitts you referenced. It was a gift and I hope you keep this going. I am still smiling.”
“Ahh. Fall on the Hill. Does it get any better than that? Thinking about fall in Clinton is full of so many conflicting feelings. I love this space, where we can reflect on Kirkland. I had forgotten so much, but your note arrived in my inbox and sent me down a trail I’d thought was long forgotten. Thank you.”
“I love this website. It is a reminder of that very special, trying and exhilarating/frustrating/happy/amazing place. For three days I have been unable to stop thinking about why I chose Kirkland, how powerful those years were and how my parents were part of all that. This website moved me to a point of even grieving for my younger self, my parents and our friends. You’ve captured the essence of it all.”
“I can’t write all my intensely personal thoughts. A bunch of my memories are still hard to sort through. And yet, the note about fall reminded me of so much that was special on the right side of the Hill. Thank you.”
“Keep plugging away and getting to the very core of Kirkland. It seems she imbued a very lucky group of women (and men) with the ability to collaborate, to analyze, to live with vigor and to create very special projects. It was a great place to be an individual and be part of something exciting at the same time.”
“You can post this part: I can only say that nothing has ever been quite so meaningful, intense, satisfying, scary and irritating. My professors sought more and more from me and I learned to push myself hard intellectually and creatively. It has led to great success professionally and I’m a better woman because of it.”
“Hamilton became a better place because of Kirkland. It didn’t know it at the time and time between the spring of 1977 and spring 1978 was a terrible and distracting one for many of us. It seemed to color the Hill in unflattering tones and may well have changed everything about how we view the world. Students came together, but the stench of divisive politics permeated every corner of the campus. I was angry for a long time and felt we lost our senior year in the blur. Ultimately, I’d have to say the entire experience made me a better person . Kirkland women made me think about every choice and every allegiance. Some remain my most important friends and they made me a better father to two college-age women.”
“Thank you for allowing us all a chance to talk about a place that was important and innovative, ahead of its time and fraught with controversy, Has education changed even today? That’s why remembering Kirkland is so important. How can we help?”
Ed. note: Please help by subscribing, posting comments and sending us scanned imagery. We need your assistance in rounding out the documentation of our traditions, history and customs. We encourage you to write about your major, a favorite professor or staff member, and the traditions and customs that made Kirkland special. Please contact us if we can help in any way. Email will reach us via: karchive at hamilton.edu. Thank you.
Acceptance Letters
For hundreds of women in the 1970s, it all began with a YES. . .
When the long-awaited acceptance letter from Kirkland College arrived, a large, black, Gothic-script, capitalized YES announced the affirmative decision. YES— printed on a separate slip of paper–peeked through the sealed envelope and clearly revealed the contents to eager high school seniors.
YES boldly announced something else – how things were done differently at Kirkland. Rather than simply mailing out a standard acceptance letter Kirkland shouted one jubilant word before the translucent linen envelope could be peeled open. That YES captured our curiosity, symbolized our excitement, and generated enthusiasm that permeated every aspect of life at Kirkland College.
YES. . .our adventure was about to begin.
 Kirkland Class of 1979 acceptance letter |
Did You Know…? The “YES” envelope was the brainchild of Carole Walker, Kirkland’s first Director of Admissions. By Oct. 1968, 200 Hamilton men were enrolled in Kirkland courses, while 75 Kirkland women enrolled in Hamilton courses.
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Kirkland College 