Down by the Trestle

An eloquent Bulletin writer once called the old railroad trestle spanning the Kokosing River a "capital of the unofficial Kenyon," part of the "ungoverned domain created by students" on the periphery of campus, an escape from "obligation and intellectual regimen--from analysis, exactitude, order, deadlines."

Trestle traditions include "trestle parties," some of which apparently took place when the trains still ran. There's a story about a group of students, gathered at the trestle with a keg, who had the bright idea of stopping the train and offering a beer to the engineer. Some time later, a federal official paid a visit to Dean of Students Tom Edwards. It seems that the unscheduled stop had forced a temporary halt in all rail traffic between Mansfield, Ohio, and Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania.

"Trestle jumping" was also popular. One would think that these daring leaps were pretty dangerous, but the divers knew where the deep pools were, or were lucky. In any case, the history of Kenyon tragedies doesn't include any trestle-jumping deaths.

And then there was the "A**hole of the Year" election, conducted at the trestle on the hung-over Sunday morning of Spring Dance Weekend--or, by one account, in the dark hours after midnight. The heyday of this event seems to have been in the sixties, just prior to coeducation, although several alumni from the early seventies remember an additional vote for the "A**hole Couple of the Year."

Perversely, some candidates actually sought the honor; they would climb into the superstructure of the bridge to make campaign speeches. Mean-spirited as it sounds, the event may have offered the campus jocks a ritualized, back-handed way of recognizing the nerds: paying homage in the guise of scorn. Then again, maybe it was just flat-out mean.

In any case, a nameless trustee still remembers the drinking song that accompanied the festivities. Sung to the tune of "Oh My Darlin', Clementine," it went: "I'm an a**hole, I'm an a**hole, I'm an a**hole 'til I die!"