Celebrating 150 Years | Alumni Memories

Susan Katz Hoffman '70

Finals were approaching, toward the end of the '68-'69 academic year, and Lois Hall was scheduled to be renovated over the summer. To get a head start, the construction crew was arriving early in the morning to work on the basement. The entrance to the basement was on the north (narrow) side of the building, underneath the fire escape.

For the past few days, the crew had been accompanied by a noisy cement mixer, which started grinding away at around 6 a.m.  This did not make the residents of Lois very happy, but our complaints had fallen on deaf ears, as ours were quickly becoming as well.

On that fateful morning, I was pulling an all-nighter, working away on a paper in the lounge on the first floor, north end. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a wall of water descend from above past the bay window under the fire escape. Then I saw a construction worker climb up the fire escape stairs, and quickly scramble back down the fire escape stairs. Odd, I thought to myself. The details emerged later.

It seems two of our residents (who shall remain unidentified for this purpose -- we know who they were) went onto the third floor fire escape and shouted down to the crew to turn off the cement mixer. They had with them (unseen from below) a large trash can filled with water. They dribbled some of the water onto the crew members entering the basement. The men backed away. The foreman shouted something like, "What, you're afraid of a few girls?" and started to lead his men into the basement. The ringleader above said, "Let'm have it" and the two of them emptied the trash can on the head of the foreman. That caused him to start climbing up the stairs after them. When he reached the second floor and turned on the landing, he was facing the bay window, where my friend (who also shall not be named) was sitting on her bed getting dressed. She was, at the time, largely naked. She stared out at the foreman, who turned beet red, turned around, and scrambled down.

He marched (dripping wet) to the head resident (lovely lady), to complain about what "her" girls had done to him. Without a word, she looked, handed him a towel, and closed the door. The crew went on strike.

A day of negotiations followed among the physical plant, the contractor, and the Lois Hall residents, resulting in an agreement that the crew would do quiet things between 6 a.m. and 8 a.m., and we would not assault the crew.