Walla Walla University - Mountain Ash Yearbook (College Place, WA)

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around the tree, boxed in the roots, dug a ditch wide enough, and pulled the tree to its present site.l The earliest record of fish inhabiting the pond dates to 1936 and of throwing in engaged students to around 1938. As to who holds the dubious distinction of being the first thrown in remains a mystery, but the many hundreds who have fol- lowed suit in years since have shed a new light on the ritual and its surroundings. The actual area around the pond has changed only slightly through the years; a former student remembers the pond itself to have also changed little- dirty all the time, how can that be different ? Another alumnus couldn't remember whether goldfish ever did survive very long since the water was usually so murky it was impossible to tell. From witnesses it is evident that sometime during the past decade a stone bench located on the east end of the pond was removed in place of shrubbery, as were a number of the less voluminously covered plants. Nonetheless, a former dean tells how she thought it would be nice if there was a fountain to add a little more beauty to the area: I had the grounds supervisor construct two lily beds in the pool, set lily pads out, and then bore holes in an old shower head for a fountain. This, in turn, put more work on the grounds crew workers who testify that when cleaning the pool an average of one or two dollars in change a year could be recovered from the bottom. They also testify that two or three seasons in the pond is about all a fish can take before departing for Davy Jones' Locker. Maybe a few of the reasons for such a high fish mortality ll odd occurrences that go on in the small 4 rate are the confines of the 250-square-foot pond. An ex-dean vividly remembers watching children saunter up to pull a fish out and walk off with pockets wiggling. A former student tells

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pmceed with caution 25

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of a weak-stomached girl in the 50's who responded to a dare and swallowed 21 goldfish from the freshly stocked pond before throwing up. Common happenings like four- point splashdowns seemed tame when the shower head was installed, so ingenious pranksters would decorate the pool with blue tinted soapflakes which quickly were converted to mounds of lather and suds. Sittnerites have even tired of throwing engaged men in, and more than once have heaved certain campus blowhards to blubbery depths. OPS Peon days, however, used to bring out the best in sadism with everything from variations of the game dunking for gold- fish to attempts at breaking the swimming record in the eight-yard dash lDifficult with a three-foot deep pooll. Through it all the pond still holds the reputation of being remembered most as a sheltered haven for quiet conversations. Many alumni remember the pond best from their personal experiences near its rippling waters. Though it is rumored that an unwritten code of ethics limits to three the number of couples in the area at one time, secret observations reveal that during rush hour ifive minutes before to five minutes after door lockl a maximum of 231A couples have been seen in the close vicinity of the shrubs. The fear of drastic action on the part of dormitory cohorts obviously has never stopped the rate of engagements on campus, though the results of winter months do seem to reflect a certain respect for the ordeal. Stories of frostbitten limbs and paralyzing falls are a bit far-fetched, but the danger of injury adds to the awe with which newly engaged students view the pond. This may account for the fact that very few girls are dunked in comparison to their engaged counterparts. As is obvious to most students and faculty, the march to the pond continues now as it has for 41 years of history. May there never be a microphone planted in that shower head. . . 27