What you miss when you're looking for the bathroom
By Rebecca Ochs
We all know and love (or hate) the great rooms of the frats at Cornell. The stickiness of the floors, the source of which one can never quite know (I personally choose to believe it is beer), the crowded path to the bathroom and, if you’re lucky enough to get a brother to make you a quesadilla, that industrial-strength kitchen open at all hours of the night. Since we tend to only see the fraternities of Cornell in this type of setting, it is easy to forget that each structure has a history, and that many, while often abused, are architectural marvels that date back over one hundred years. During that time, the fraternity houses experienced publicized additions, renovations, fires, and refurbishments, but what escaped the headlines? What was revealed in the numerous construction projects, and what was concealed, pushed underground as the years passed? Several of the frat houses at Cornell contain mysteries, rather odd architectural features, and rooms full of stolen objects that remained hidden for years. Among these are Theta Delta Chi, Alpha Delta Phi, and Sigma Phi.
Built during the era of Prohibition, the Beta Charge of Theta Delta Chi, better known to Cornellians as Thumpty, did not leave brothers hanging out to dry. The architect of the house, located at 800 University Avenue, was Waldo Franklin “Ag” Tobey, a former brother of the Beta Charge rumored to have made his fortune as the lawyer defending the infamous Al Capone. In addition to the fine physical attributes of the house, Tobey included a special and important feature: a speakeasy. Hidden behind a wooden panel in the stairway to the basement, the Thumpty speakeasy has facilitated years of debauchery. Although no longer forced underground by Prohibition, the brothers of Thumpty still enjoy having a drink or two in their speakeasy, just as their predecessors did.If you have walked through frat row along McGraw Place not too far from Thumpty, you have most likely seen a strange shaped building between Sig Ep and Alpha Delt. This windowless and door-less building is Alpha Delta Phi’s Goat House, and has been used in the fraternity’s rituals since 1903. Dedicated to the memory of Hiram Murray Little, class of 1900, its contents are a secret of the brotherhood; however, kitsch was able to dig up some information on the details of access to and the contents of the building.
Given that there are no windows or doors, entry to the Goat House has long been shrouded in mystery. Although not widely spoken of today, it has been confirmed that there is a tunnel connecting the Goat House to Alpha Delt’s chapter house. According to an October 2, 1903, issue of The Cornell Daily Sun describing the construction of three new buildings at Cornell, “About a hundred feet in the rear of the [Alpha Delta Phi] chapter house is the mosque shaped lodge building which is connected by an underground passage with the other structure.” Although the first Alpha Delta Phi house burned down in the early 20th century, the Goat House remained unscathed, and a tunnel still connects it to the new chapter house. It is even rumored that a man delivering a pizza to Alpha Delt called the individual that had placed the order to inform him the pizza had arrived, at which point a student emerged from a manhole between the chapter house and the Goat House, paid for the pizza, and returned into the ground, to the astonishment of the delivery man.
The name of this building has also inspired many rumors as to its origin and what it suggests about events that occur within its walls. The Goat Room, according to Alfred H. Holt (author of “Phrase Origins”), was a “nineteenth- and early-twentieth century term for a meeting room, appearing in the title of the fraternity gossip section of the 1922 Aegis ‘Heard at the Goat Room Keyhole.’” The term is characteristic of fraternities and derives from scapegoat. However, none of this seems to clear up any of the mystery surrounding which rituals do in fact take place inside the Goat House. Since so much of what truly does exist inside the Goat House is still known only to brothers, I challenge someone to find that manhole and unveil this secret.
Although Sigma Phi has no star-shaped mausoleum or speakeasy, the brothers kept a secret hidden in the house’s basement for more than half a century. It is uncertain when the tradition began, but after a break-in by a rival fraternity pledge, police discovered a long history of thievery by Sigma Phi brothers in a room full of their stolen treasures.
In March of 1994, Theta Delta Chi pledges received a tip from an angry Sigma Phi brother regarding a secret room in the Sigma Phi house containing several stolen items from Theta Delta Chi. In an attempt to reclaim these items, pledges from Theta Delta Chi gained access to the secret room with the combination provided to them. Having the chance to look around, the sole pledge brave enough to enter discovered a plethora of odd items stolen over the course of many years from other fraternities and University buildings. According to a March 31, 1994 article of The Cornell Daily Sun, the room contained intriguing items including: “two hanging skeletons dressed as pirates, at least twenty blind-folded animal heads nailed to the walls, a stage in the back of the room adorned with paintings of Jesus and a [real] coffin, a stack of sorority composites with derogatory names next to many of the sisters’ photographs and a jar of rat heads.” Somehow managing to navigate this very interesting scene, the pledge was also able to recover two items from Theta Delta Chi.
Absorbed in his surroundings, the pledge was unaware that in opening the door to the secret room, he had set off a security alarm installed to protect its contents, thereby alerting Sigma Phi brothers of his presence. In defense of their precious stolen booty, Sigma Phi brothers mounted a resistance movement despite the fact that it was 4 a.m., shutting the heavy steel door the pledge had entered through. This forced the pledge to make a narrow escape through another door, which the brothers had attempted to barricade with a table. A high-speed foot chase ensued; the Theta Delta Chi pledge fled the scene, repossessed items in tow, and closely followed by two irate Sigma Phi’s brandishing hockey sticks in their fury. Unable to hold out any longer, the pledge was tackled by the two Sigma Phi brothers on Kappa Alpha Theta’s lawn, and soon after was arrested by police.
This event, however, prompted Theta Delta Chi pledges to report what they had found in the room at Sigma Phi to police, eventually leading to a search warrant and a following raid at the Sigma Phi house. The police raid ultimately resulted in the discovery of over 180 stolen items reflecting over 50 years of thievery, including 19th century hands from the clock tower and missing parts of the Goldwin Smith sundial, among other, stranger items previously mentioned. Some of the items were valued at several thousand dollars, including two billiard lamps returned to Delta Chi fraternity worth over $10,000. With the help of Cornell and Ithaca police, almost all of the stolen items were eventually returned to their rightful owners.
The discovery of this “cornucopia” of stolen goods, as referred to by a 1994 article in The New York Times, resulted in great speculation regarding how long the tradition had existed and who knew about the underground room. It is believed that prominent alumni of Sigma Phi, such as Ezra Cornell IV, knew about the room and may have even taken part in the tradition of theft. Further speculation of how many other fraternities had storehouses such as this one also followed.
While this mystery, along with that of the Thumpty speakeasy and Alpha Delt Goat House, have all been unveiled to an extent, how many others remain hidden, kept secret to outsiders and passed down by countless brothers over the years? The many secret rooms, passageways, and items that have been revealed in the fraternities only leads me to wonder what else may be lurking in those houses, concealed beneath the beer-soaked floors.
(art by Zach Kinkade)