Five students from Bowman Hall made up the majority of the Octumvirate. The remaining three students lived down the hill from Bowman Hall and around the corner to the west in Rex Hall, one of the four-decade old housing units cobbled together after WWII. It was a male-only dormitory which probably led to the musty dankness that emanated from the half-underground first floor and spread upward through its four stories. It was a sobering experience for visitors to manage through their initial five or ten minutes and I can only guess how students who lived there ever persevered. One minor bit of hilarity that I found in the residence was that the hall mascot – apparently some held-over concept from the 1950s or 1960s, sort of like housemothers – was the lion (presumably stemming from the Latin rex, meaning king, and in turn referencing the king of the jungle). The catch here was that the masculine mascot was for a dorm named after the very feminine Blanche Rex, some former administrator from the past. She might have gotten a kick out of the dorm named after her but I doubt she would have liked the smell.
Leading the charge from Rex Hall was Alan Heathland, a normal looking guy in most every aspect. I recall mostly normal features with beady eyes and greasily-styled hair. Alan grew up down south in Port Wright which was about a six or seven hour drive from where we were. Thankfully for him he had an uncle and aunt living about thirty miles away that invited him out to their country club-like estate for weekends. Of course, Alan in turn invited his friends out a few times a month to cook on the outdoor grill, swim in the outdoor pool, and get out of the usual college setting. Or so I was told.
What stands out a decade later about Alan was his accent, something that Stan once said “sounded Peruvian” which in turn led to Stan and Phil bantering back and forth in a sidebar conversation about the merits about Machu Picchu. For whatever reason Alan never talked much about his background or family so most of us just let the matter drop. Not Phil, whose natural curiosity about everything kept him asking occasional questions trying to get Alan to drop a hint or two about his upbringing. His initial questions were not always tactful (“So, where are your people from?”) nor always understandable (“Sua mosca está aberta?”) but it was fun watching his mind wrestle for clues in whatever Alan said.
This went on for a few months before Phil quit guessing and finally said he had figured it out. “You’re Irish,” Phil announced one night at dinner. Alan, who all through this time had been a great sport about Phil’s questions, simply shook his head and said no, he wasn’t Irish. Phil didn’t seem to come to terms with Alan’s “no” and said to hell with that: “well you sound Irish to me. You’re Irish.” Thus Alan’s new nickname – Irish – was born, which lasted the rest of the semester and into the following spring term.
Irish became part of the Octumvirate because he and Leonard were in a class or two together. In turn Irish brought Arthur (his roommate) and Kenny (their suitemate) with him to dinner and all three were welcomed. Most of this crew from Rex Hall disappeared during my sophomore year. Perhaps Alan moved out to his aunt and uncle’s place to live out the rest of his college years?
Right.
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Irish Boy
(Sanchez)
Paul Sanchez
From the album Wasted Lives & Bluegrass
1994
