September 29, 2011
Despite the apprehension leading up to bicentennial weekend (see article “Bicentennial overload hits the Hill this weekend” from 9/22 Spectator), the festivities turned out quite well, to the delight of Hamilton students, alumni, and parents alike. There were no golfcart collisions, lecture halls did not overflow into fire hazards, and, from what I can tell, everybody was able to get to where they needed in a timely manner.
For this logistical success, Hamilton owes a great deal of gratitude to our campus employees, who worked tirelessly to ensure that the masses were moved efficiently and safely. Admittedly, it was frustrating at times to have our normally-taciturn streets filled to the brim with vehicles and our peaceful pathways packed with visitors, but it was acceptable for an once-in-a-lifetime weekend.
Moreover, many campus employees had to park downhill themselves and get shuttled up to the College, so that families and students could park on the Hill. The employees handled the excess amount of work well, preparing exuberant amounts of food, setting up tents, and picking up waste. Again, we could not have accomplished this weekend’s myriad activities without their dedication and patience.
Besides the deftly managed logistics of the weekend, the atmosphere was nothing short of astounding. For the first time in my Hamilton career, our utopian “village on the Hill” was transformed into a bustling metropolis. Well, perhaps not a metropolis, but certainly a far cry from the status quo. At last count, approximately 3,500 visitors flocked to the Hill—that’s more than two visitors for every student! Walking down Martin’s Way, I saw parents and grandparents, brother and sisters, professors and alumni all basking in the collective glory of 200 years of history. When I was out to dinner in Utica, I even came upon the Class of 1953 reunion, reminding me of the profound tradition that we all inherited when we matriculated in Kirkland Cottage.
At the very least, the bicentennial served as a great moment to reflect and appreciate the fact that, while we do eventually graduate and move on in life, we never depart the Hill entirely. We, too, will return. If not in body, then in spirit.
Of course the dances and drinking and shenanigans of the weekend were memorable, but that strikes me as a passing fancy. The most important aspect to treasure is that our Hamilton experience is part of a greater ideal, an ideal that will hopefully last another 200 years.