Perhaps you have asked yourself why two, parallel lengths of fence stand in the southwest corner of the Green. The answer is a matter of history and tradition. There was a time when the good residents of Hanover shared this plot of grass with the students of Dartmouth. Yes, wild farm animals once grazed freely on what is today our intensely fertilized playground.
In 1836 Dartmouth students secured this land for future student generations by staging a revolt. They herded all the livestock into Dartmouth Hall and held them hostage. They demanded that at least six neutral parties attend the negotiations, but since Hanover was quite removed from civilization back then, only the administration was available to mediate. Thus a deal was struck -- the town residents were no longer allowed to graze their sheep on the Green. To make this agreement painstakingly clear, the College built a fence. The seniors then claimed ownership of the structure. They decreed that no underclassmen should touch it. Those who did were promptly carried to a conveniently placed granite watering trough in front of the Hanover Inn and dunked.
A side note to the story: I believe the cows were trapped in the upper floors of the hall and thus were euthanized so they could be removed. The young Republican group then secretly petitioned the College for funds to purchase the beef. With it, they staged a barbecue where they boasted of their generosity in the name of patriotism ... or something like that.
After World War II, as Dartmouth spread outward and collected in its folds the lands of Hanover, it evicted all the animals. This wasn't a problem because the nascent corporate agribusinesses were going to make the family farmers obsolete soon anyway. The fence, thereby rendered useless, was removed save the two pieces preserved for us to fondly adore.
With the '03s so recently departed, the '04s must take their place as stewards of the student body community. That being established, I would like to address the underclassmen and declare: Get off our fence. Don't touch it. Don't sit on it. Don't even ogle it longingly.
The absence of a granite watering trough and the prevalence of lawsuits prevents me from enforcing this demand in any tangible way. So I will resort to deceit and appeals to your sense of tradition to keep you off of it.
You '05s are unfortunately a bit to savvy to fall for our tricks. The '06s would be advised to remember that any underclassman who touches the fence immediately renounces any chance of being tapped for membership in a secret society. Do you want to see the inside of the Sphinx? Then stay off the fence!
To deal with the '05s, I thought I might poll a random sample of you and determine how many times a day you have contact with the fence. I'm sure the number of times would fall somewhere between zero and four, with a negligible margin of error of say five. I would then present the statistics in an ambiguous, yet dastardly hip way that suggests a propensity to avoid the fence. The idea is that you will sheepishly ape the actions of your anonymously polled peers and cease relations with it. You would gain through your actions increased social standing as you bravely step in toe with the status quo.
Admittedly, this course of action is about as effective as asking the Student Assembly for heaps of cash to print up T-shirts that denounce associating with the fence. Some of you might actually mock such a campaign by increasing your rendezvous with it! Have you no respect for good-intentioned appeals for civility displayed on a stylish T?
Respecting the seniors' ownership claim to the fence is a time-honored Dartmouth tradition. It is as sacred as streaking the Green, scaling Baker Tower, the Ledyard Challenge, the Blue Light Special, rubbing that guy's nose in the Hop, singing the Alma Mater in impromptu groups at six p.m. on the Green and creating hundreds of pounds of aluminum can and plastic cup waste each week in the pursuit of sinking a little white ball into a cup.
Underclassmen, you will have your time to be pompous and irrational. Right now though, it's the '04s' time, so stay off our fence. To my fellow '04s reading this, when it comes time to select the Senior Gift, allow me to make a modest proposal. Let us decorate the well-trodden, grass-barren southwest corner of the Green with a gift of life-giving water. Let us place there a monument that will stand up to the throes of winter and the heat of summer. Let us build a granite watering trough.
