Life in the Ville by Jimmy Del Ponte

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After graduating from Somerville High School in the early 70’s, with all the demonstrations, walkouts, and drama, I thought college would be a breeze.

It’s hard to imagine that 1975 was forty years ago. I was a sophomore at a Boston College in the Back Bay. I was driving my 1967 Dodge Dart back and forth. Often I would drop off my pal John Glynn in Dorchester. He was my best friend in college. It was a perfect mix of an Irishman and an Italian from the inner city and together we had as much fun as was humanly possible without getting thrown out of school.

I was very excited to be attending college but would have guessed that I was about to encounter an unforgettable experience that took every ounce of my sanity, and almost drove me over the edge. And it had nothing to do with academics.

Just a few months earlier in the fall of 1974, was when John and I became buds. We were both approached by a major fraternity and invited to come to their “smoker.” There was food and beer and belligerent frat brothers. Shortly thereafter we started pledging for the frat. The first night consisted of three of us “pledges” meeting at one of the brother’s apartments. We were given snacks before accepting the invitation to become brothers in the frat. We were then blindfolded and placed in the back of a van. We were driven around for about an hour while being degraded and harassed by the current brothers. It was a few of the brothers’ first chance to dish out the terror now that they were subjected to when they were lowly pledges. They couldn’t wait to do unto others as they were done to. John and I, along with the other guy, sat nervously while wondering where we were being taken to and what was going to be done to us. College! Oh boy!

The van finally stops after 45 minutes of driving on a highway. Being blindfolded for that long was starting to drive me nuts. Was it really worth this much anguish just to be in a college fraternity? The van stopped and we sat there for a few minutes while the brothers discussed their next move. I could hear them throwing rocks into a body of water. I also heard a distant train going by. I put two and two together. Added into the fact that we were on the highway for about 45 minutes, I thought that we might be at Walden Pond in Concord. Sure enough I was right.

So what were they going to do to us now? Would they make us walk blindfolded into the woods or into the water? What had I gotten myself into? We were instructed to keep the blindfolds on until we heard the van pull away. Great! We had to find a way back to civilization approximately 20 miles away. We made our way out of the Walden Pond Reservation in Concord and started hitch hiking or thumbing as we called it back then.

We made it back to the apartment in the Back Bay in about an hour and a half. We weren’t instructed to return there but my pal John wanted to prove something, being a wise guy kid from Dorchester. He was a very proud kid from the streets and I think what he wanted to say to the fraternity was, “You guys are going to have your hands filled with me!” And have their hands full they did. They also couldn’t believe that he asked if there were any snacks left.

For two grueling weeks we wore a straw hat and carried a gold painted brick everyplace. And boy what a two weeks it was. We had to man a “kissing booth” on campus, while selling lollipops. We had to yell loudly whenever a brother rubbed his chin, even if we were in a class or the library or any other place. We had to serenade the girl’s dorm with slightly off color songs that the frat taught us. We had to learn the Greek alphabet and recite it at their whim. If we didn’t call them “sir” we had to drop and do push-ups. We were basically abused, humiliated and degraded for two weeks all for the honor of being in an elite fraternity.

On the 14th day of this horror, I had taken all that I could. I flipped out and screamed, “That’s it … I quit!” I ran out the door and up the street. I was followed by the then president of the frat who assured me that it was the last night and it would be over in an hour. It was “Hell Night!” I was actually sobbing (tough guy!). That’s how crazy it was.

So we were driven to another location blindfolded and sworn in as brothers after a candle lit ceremony. I can’t tell you how terrifying the last night was, but we were just glad that it was over.

The brothers became some of my lifelong friends to his day. The then president, along with my pal from Dorchester, is no longer with us, but the memories will live on. We went on to cause mischief and mayhem for the rest of our college careers. I do not condone this or any other type of hazing as it is very dangerous, and against college rules. I would never allow one of my kids to go through this kind of craziness. Although I must say being in that fraternity made my college days a lot more interesting.