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Fast times at Sigma Chi From the Shadowfast supercar driver logs Sponsor this page This page last updated 4-25-08 a - j m o o n e y h a m . c o m - o r i g i n a l

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Until the story which belongs here is completed, the main feature of this page will be imagery from the story's timeframe. Actual artwork created either during or around that time (plus some newer bits to supplement it).

As all this relates to my real-life supercar days too (and so certain details could prove troublesome for me if posted), I've blacked out or omitted some telltale bits in the pictures. Sorry!

For some backdrop to this tale, above is my fuzzy memory based artistic rendering of what my best friend Steve's 1970 Mustang loooked like during this period.

To right is what my own Shadowfast looked like. He wasn't wholly complete during this time, but he was close to it.

Shadowfast

Leann's car

To left is the type of auto Steve's girl Leann drove during this time: a Ford Pinto. I think it sported a light green and white paint scheme. We ran around in it a lot for gas conservation reasons, as it was a four-banger (Leann can be seen in a sketch below).

Although I was pretty much oblivious to it the whole time I spent with Steve in my youth, that guy had a long term plan to change his life in extreme ways, and he was sticking to it.

Steve may have tried explaining his designs to me a few times, only to find me puzzled or disinterested by his long term schemes towards such ends.

Steve somehow knew and understood about networking even in his teens, as well as making his mark influence-wise in order to move up all the various ladders of life.

Steve had basically been born a hill billy like me. But so far as I can tell now his ultimate goal was to completely transform himself-- into a rich, jet-setting corporate executive playboy.

And damn if he didn't come darn close to that ideal! Ha, ha.

Decades later it turned out being an actual playboy longer than 20-25 years at a stretch is too exhausting. Even for mighty Steve. So after an airliner-like landing on a runway-- you know, where the wheels might make contact with the tarmac once or twice before they finally stay there-- Steve finally touched down and stayed grounded marriage-wise.

He never actually got rich (rich compared to me, yes; rich by strict definition, no). Maybe because he hadn't been born into that class, and like 99% of folks could never quite make up the shortfall connections-wise. But he sure lived rich. And traveled the globe. Some weeks he may have actually spent more time in the air than he did on the ground.

For quite a few years I personally thought all that traveling to be one reason Steve never got rich. For the far flung and exotic vacations to the Swiss Alps for skiing, and to various tropical islands for different recreations, were costly. Plus, his various domiciles seemed to get robbed since he was away so much, forcing him to replace lots of expensive material goods on occasion.

But all that would happen much later than the time frame covered by this story. In early college Steve was still climbing his ladders. Implementing his plans. Installing and spinning up all his 'wheels within wheels'.

And joining a certain fraternity in college was one of his milestones along the way.

Me, I'm not a joiner. Yes, joining in is essential for networking and schmoozing. But I couldn't stand networking and schmoozing. Besides perceiving it as agonizingly boring, I also felt such behavior was frequently too fake and superficial for my tastes.

Yep. I definitely don't have what it takes to be rich and famous. Or a playboy either, for that matter (face it: schmoozing is required for robust dating practices, too).

Of course, some guys would ask what's left after you take all that off the table?

Good question! would be my response. Ouch!

But Steve's strategy of invading the social high life by way of channels like a frat was what got me pulled along a bit through there as well. Being his best friend and all. Plus, not being wholly without some usefulness to his plans, myself.

I guess I should mention here that I was never actually a member of this fraternity. Never even pledged. Steve and his brother Will did. But not me.

(Will wouldn't join us at Tech our first year, but our second; he being Steve's younger brother)

So how come I was allowed all the access to Steve's club described here if I never joined? Mostly because I'd helped his fraternity win a major greek organization contest on-campus, by creating a huge picture for them. I believe the contest consisted of somewhere between two and ten parts, with maybe the amount of money raised for charity being one. I can't recall exactly what all the others were, but somehow my big picture helped in one of the competitions.

I think I spent a couple weeks working on it before the unveiling and judging. We all of us (Steve, his girl Leann, me, and a few other campus pals) treated it like a big secret. Even surreptitiously sneaking it into the University Center in the dead of night before the day of the judging so the other contestants would get as little warning as possible about it.

Yeah, Steve was aware of the strategic advantage of minimizing the competition's chances for mounting a credible response.

Steve had persuaded me to do the pic in the first place, of course. Largely in order to leverage more influence and prestige for himself at the frat, most likely.

But it also worked to make me sort of an unofficial frat brother. Which to my mind was better than the official version. For actual newbie brothers had to endure various menial tasks at the house, as well as initiation rituals which I'm sure I would have refused. Maybe even punched somebody out over.

So I basically got many of the benefits without any of the hassles.

Yeah, something maybe as close to a free lunch as was possible in the greek system of those days.

I was the political cartoonist for our campus paper for a while. Steve probably set me up there too, I guess. Or greatly encouraged me in the matter. For surely I didn't initiate such a thing wholly on my own (I honestly can't remember the details now).

Anyway, I apparently maintained that gig for quite a while-- as today I have a surprising number of different 'toons clipped from editions I drew for.

Unfortunately, as the politics I spoofed were almost always of the highly local and immediate variety (on-campus issues of various sorts) I don't think today's decades newer internet visitors would find them particularly interesting. But in the interest of providing some evidence of the events related here, I provide some samples here and there on this page.

Indeed, it may be I only did one cartoon pointing to politics beyond our own small campus. And that one proved to be my last.

Why? Well, the paper's editor censored it.

Looking back on it now, I think she may have been ethnically related to a group she felt was unfairly treated in the cartoon-- despite my reference probably not even being recognized by most students.

In hindsight she was probably correct in censoring it. For I was basically reflecting the political leanings of my often-not-fully-informed self and peers with the piece.

Basically the editor had asked me to do a caricature of campus vandals-- or maybe we'd discussed it together and come up with the idea.

So I created this ugly freak of a thing outfitted like a vandalism commando, in the middle of a diagram explaining his heinous equipment and what he did with it.

He had an ammo belt or something like it running across his chest, with a T-shirt underneath. And on that T-shirt I'd put hints of a three letter designation which to me represented terrorism at the time.

The acronym wasn't fully visible-- but could be recognized by someone keeping up on current world events I believe.

Basically I'd created imagery the President of the United States (or other top ranking officials at that time) might have liked.

The editor though used white out on the semi-hidden reference before the paper went to print. Without telling me she did it.

Like I say, I know much more about the world now than I did then. So I wish I hadn't caused her that problem.

I can't even recall her name now, but she may have had something of a Middle-eastern lineage, like being from Lebanon or something, and was quite an attractive and smart lady. I liked her quite a bit before the censorship.

If she ever sees this on the net and recognizes me from this description of events, I want her to know I apologize. I shouldn't have done what I did. Before or after the cartoon went to print.

For you see, I got angry at my artwork being tampered with. Especially when (in my state of blind acceptance of what my leaders told me) I felt somewhat righteous in my veiled reference.

Plus, I wasn't getting paid for the cartooning. You have to be careful about pissing off voluntary workers like that.

My memory's spotty on those events so many years past now. But I think I was incensed by the censorship, and confronted the editor over it pretty soon after the issue came out.

Either she didn't explain herself well, or (more likely) I was just too self-righteous and pig-headed to really listen to her. So what she said didn't quell my anger-- although maybe she thought it did at the time. For came next week (or whatever the schedule was), and she was expecting another cartoon as usual. Only she didn't get it. I purposely didn't submit one, and didn't warn her beforehand of my intent, in order to cause her as much trouble as possible.

Like I say, I wish now I hadn't done that to her. But I did. I believe only days after that we saw each other again at one of the big campus parties described on this page-- standing only maybe 12-15 feet from one another. She gave me plenty of serious looks there, and I gave them right back. At the time I had grandiose thoughts of what she must have thought of me standing up for my principles like that-- but in reality she was probably thinking "what a jerk!" Ha, ha.

I'll say it again: sorry lady! If I had to do it over again, I wouldn't leave you in a lurch like that, or done that particular thing you felt you had to censor. No, I would have tried my best to make entirely different mistakes than those! Ha, ha!

If she ever comes across my web site, and sees the content I have today somewhat relating to the issues her censorship back then concerned, I believe she'd feel better about the whole thing: like maybe I finally learned something after all.

Ahhh! Even after decades, the cartoon above still applies; for college textbook costs are out of this world!

Above was depicted the widespread dissatisfaction with changes the college had made in registration procedures compared to the previous quarter.

Again, the comic is displaying student body angst over administrative changes. This time regarding a new or larger fee for parking stickers, which didn't help you park any closer to the the buildings you needed to attend.

Yes: the womens' dorm parking lots did resemble the cratered face of the Moon (though I did exaggerate it a bit (that was my job!)).

All right: this one's a bit harder to decipher, as I forget the details. But I think it had something to do with representatives of the fraternities and sororities on campus being denied their own representation in some sort of student governing board.

The women's dorms were for women only back then (not coed, like many are today). With some fairly strict rules on visitation by men. EXCEPT for the daily presence of male janitors in the hallways and bathrooms. Please note that dozens of students in the dorms had to share the same bathrooms/showers at the ends of their respective halls. Combine this with the many gorgeous women who populated this Tennessee college, and this particular clean up duty could have been considered a great side-benefit of the job for men. The female students however weren't exactly crazy about it.

Although there was probably at minimum two or three good-sized parties a week at the Sigma Chi house on campus (they actually had two complete houses, one located just behind the other) during my first year at Tech-- and dozens of smaller, more private ones-- I personally attended only a handful that whole year. For I wasn't a terribly social person. Heck: often it was downright impossible to get me to 'loosen up', as some might put it.

Of course, I wanted to experience fun and avoid studying as much as anyone else: I just wasn't very good at such pursuits.

Anyway, of that handful of parties I did attend, three stand out as especially impressive in the mayhem they wrought, or memories left behind.

The most spectacular and hedonistic spectacle was a sort of combination costume party and surprise party.

It wasn't your conventional costume themed event though. For there were no rules and no unacceptable costume themes. This made for some pretty wild stuff being on display at the event. Like some women made up like awfully cute humanoid cats. I'm talking whiskers and cat mouth and nose and cat ears. And tails. At least one of those girls wore only a string bikini in terms of clothing. Some of the make up jobs involved in the cat thing looked good enough to belong in a Hollywood film.

I think there were some people there with major chunks of their clothing just painted on, too. I.e., naked or partially so, under the coloring.

I'm not entirely certain on this point though, because I tried to keep my distance from the possibly near-naked men-- and couldn't get close to the practically naked women, because of all the attention they attracted from others like me.

And those were by no means the wildest costumes or characters to be seen there. So the tableau didn't seem too far from resembling an event you'd expect to see on an alien planet. Some of the behavior rated that as well.

As for me, I wasn't wearing a costume. Just regular street clothes. For that was OK too. The students who took the costume thing the most seriously seemed to be the women, and those among the men who were older or more experienced with stuff like this, compared to a freshman like me.

As for the surprise part-- the surprise was on everyone there. For apparently in addition to the usual generous servings of alcohol, something else was added to much of the food and drinks available. A mystery ingredient. I believe lots of folks there like myself weren't aware of this factor until much later. Anyway, that stuff seemed to cause the whole thing to spin wildly out of control.

Fortunately the organizers had scheduled the party on the same night that not only the campus but the entire surrounding city would be hopping in various ways, thus hopefully maximizing the time required for the authorities to be specifically called in here.

I never in my life saw so many people at once going so wild as I did that night. There seemed to be a complete and total loss of inhibitions, after a certain point. Fortunately though everyone was happy crazy, rather than angry or depressed crazy. Almost every time I turned around or changed locations I was confronted with a new and (to me anyway) shocking tableau.

Here's just a small sampling of things I witnessed around the peak of the chaos:

Item: In the spacious and wildly varied terrain of the yard which separated the two frat houses, men and women in their underwear laughing uncontrollably as they skidded on their asses and backs down a steep muddy channel into a small, shallow mud pond at bottom. A few of course discarded even their underwear. Nobody cared. Of course, with all the mud coatings, people tended to look better covered than they would have in swimsuits on a public beach.

One guy I knew fairly well got so ripped he was just turning somersaults over and over again in his own little mud hole to entertain a few other people standing within feet of him watching. He was fully clothed, but out of his freaking mind. And happy as he could be. I'm sure he kept flipping over in that mud hole for at least five or ten minutes. And he was still going strong when I turned my attention to other matters.

It makes me laugh even today to think about him.

Whatever the mystery ingredient was, it made you incredibly happy and generous and friendly with everyone around you.

Many circles of folks laughed near uncontrollably for quite some time, sometimes breaking into tears from the intensity of their glee. I listened in for a moment or two on a couple different groups like this to see what was so funny, and never did find out. Either the jokes went right over my head, or I'd already missed something important to the hilarity before I came upon them.

Girls randomly kissed guys. And passionately, too! I was the recipient of several of these myself. The girls were all complete strangers to me.

In the weeks to follow though I'd learn some of the so-called girls at the shindig may have been men disguised as girls. YUCK! Technically that was allowed, being as how it was a costume party for any willing to dress up so.

I don't think any of the girls who kissed me were really guys-- but just the remote possibility of it sickened and alarmed me when I learned of it afterwards.

Plus, so far as I could tell there were very, very few truly homosexual men on campus while I was there. So that notion comforts me in regards to the recall of these events.

Don't get me wrong: I care not a bit about someone else's personal sexual preferences. But I myself prefer girls. Exclusively. And would likely punch a guy who kissed me while posing as a girl, if I found out about it. Just instinctively!

In general though I wouldn't mind if all the guys in the world but me turned gay-- for in theory that'd present a really nice and lopsided supply-demand curve for me personally to enjoy. Billions of heterosexual women looking for a single heterosexual man...with me their only choice. Yeah, such overwhelming numbers would surely kill me quick-- but I think I'd die happy!

I'm not sure what happened in the case that a given random man-woman couple decided to go further than making out at the main party. But I did know it wasn't unusual at regular parties for frat members to take women upstairs or off the grounds entirely for such things.

Me, I was feeling so strange and happy from whatever was in the food and drink-- plus so inexperienced and hesitant regarding such out-of-control behavior-- that I was content just to watch that night.

I also knew almost no one there. Steve and what few other people I knew had disappeared very soon after I arrived, leaving me on my own (and recall that guy turning flips in the mud puddle was busy with his own little piece of heaven).

Yeah, if I'd been older, or more experienced, or had a sufficiently enticing invitation from a woman there, I would likely have done more. But none of those were the case.

I was repeatedly amazed by the apparent fun to be had by all at the event.

Inside the house, shirts and skirts and pants began missing here and there, from those who'd originally shown up with them. Men and women danced on tables. Falls were commonplace. But no one seemed to get seriously injured.

Several true strip-teases took place. Involving girls pretty enough that you wanted to be in more than one place at once to watch them (alas, the events were too spread out to watch one without missing another).

But-- to my personal knowledge-- no women actually went completely bottomless in public inside the houses (except possibly for those sporting painted-on clothing, or an accident here or there).

The whole attitude by everyone there seemed more like kids just having fun rather than any serious debauchery taking place. Much like the sense conveyed by those popular beach party movies of the sixties.

I mean, the normal inhibitions and constraints just seemed to be absent or non-existent.

I thought I was hallucinating when a curious little old lady appeared out of nowhere inside the house. A frat brother quickly escorted her to somewhere else I think.

In one of the houses a suds room was running. I'm not talking beer-- although kegs were plentiful. I'm talking soap suds. A room full of soap suds-- or foam, drenching the clothes of everyone inside. People were trying to dance in there. Or something. I couldn't figure out how they were keeping their footing on slick floors, until I learned the floors were covered by soft gym mattresses or something similar. But those presented their own footing problems, I thought.

I never entered the suds room, as I didn't want to get drenched as I saw happening to others in there.

Early on in this party I spent a small bit of time in several different upstairs rooms-- maybe of both houses-- with different frat factions. One of these had included Steve, the frat President, and the President's girlfriend.

There were a few others present too I think, but I can't recall their identities now.

I think the President's girlfriend was the only female there at the time.

The frat president of that time commonly went by the moniker "Prez".

That little get-together didn't last long at all. I can't recall what we spoke about. But it did seem Steve was getting awfully chummy with the Prez's girlfriend. And the Prez didn't seem to mind.

All of the sudden everyone was spurred to go their separate ways for some reason, including me. But the last I saw of Steve he was still with the Prez and his girlfriend.

The President's girlfriend's name was Diana. And she bore more than a passing resemblance to what you might expect of the Roman goddess of the same name: she was a dazzling and statuesque blonde.

I'd accidentally gotten to sit close up alongside Diana in the small room while there, and can tell you she was one awfully attractive woman. Long blonde hair, blue eyes, and tall.

Diana in some ways was similar to Sue Anne in looks-- only Diana's facial features were a little more sharply sculptured than Sue Anne's, making Diana look more like someone you'd expect to see on television or in films of that era.

But Diana's personality was even more appealing than her looks. For she was one of those women who seemed unusually warm and welcoming in attitude-- even to a total stranger like me.

She seemed smart too, from what little of her conversation I got to sample. Which of course simply ratcheted up her attractiveness still more.

But that was all I got to see of her that night. Before most of us got sent away.

Although he never said anything about it-- and I never asked-- I always suspected that Steve and Diana and the Prez had a little party of their own that night. Because I never saw any of them again after that, that evening. And what I did hear about happening to Steve by the next morning certainly implied some wild times were had by him with someone during those hours.

I think Diana was lusted after by virtually every brother in the frat. And Steve seemed very well liked by both Diana and the Prez at that time. And heck: these frat folks were downright wild! Steve too, I knew from past history.

So although I don't know for sure that anything happened there, I always sort of envied Steve on the mere possibility! Ha, ha!

And yes, Steve did have an official girlfriend of his own at that time. A very nice, very cute young lady in her own right, whom I liked as well. But I don't think she attended this particular party. Her name was Leann.

Leann managed to keep Steve on the hook for longer than just about any other single woman I was ever witness to in those days. Most everyone familiar with Steve and Leann figured they'd eventually get married. And somehow Leann managed to survive and thrive even as a practically full-fledged member of Steve's inner circle, for an unbelievable length of time.

What I mean by this is that Leann accompanied Steve and me and others on some of the scariest adventures you can imagine putting a girlfriend through. Journey to the center of the Earth? Sure! Leann was up for it! Car race to the death? Yeah! No problem! Scaling treacherous cliffs above a freezing cold river? That was right up her alley! Camping and hiking trips into hellish barrens? Leann was ready!

Heck: thinking back on that now sort of surprises me in regard to Leann. I mean, I liked her a lot myself-- maybe even to the point of harboring a small crush on her too for a while. But when I think back to all the stuff she did right along-side us...man! It's practically unbelievable!

In hindsight, maybe Leann was more adventuresome and willing to push the edge of the envelope than Steve himself! Wow!

It's funny. I never got the impression Leann was stark raving mad at the time. But how else can you explain a girl willing to stand toe-to-toe like that with Steve in such hair-raising adventures?

Sheesh! Even I didn't dare accompany Steve on some of his treks! So Leann might actually have been on more of them than me!

For some reason much of this side of Leann never occurred to me back then. I mean, I had a high opinion of her. I just never contemplated her penchant for risk and danger like that at the time. I guess because me and Will and others were doing pretty much the same thing. It was all what we considered normal behavior back then.

I think Leann was studying to be a teacher. So maybe that's what she is now. Wow! I bet she's some teacher!

I think even the fraternity itself got worn out by that party-to-end-all-parties. Because I believe there was a very unusual pseudo-moratorium on parties after that for maybe a week or two.

Even when the main party began winding down due to mounting pressure from certain neighbor and law elements, many of the guests simply left the premises to continue the celebration elsewhere with a smaller and more select group.

At some point I realized I badly needed to leave and get back to my dorm. I was exhausted as well as buzzed out of my mind.

I didn't think I'd drunk all that much at the party. But figured maybe the drinks had been stronger than I was accustomed to, in terms of hard liquor. Or maybe I should have eaten something, I mused.

For some reason I'd driven Shadow to the frat house, which was only a couple blocks from my dorm.

But getting back would turn out to be maybe the toughest two suburban blocks I'd ever driven, up to that time in my life.

I really shouldn't have been driving at all. But this was a wholly new experience for me. So I wasn't prepared to handle it properly.

Plus, I think at the time I was unsure I could make it back on foot. Yikes! Yeah, if I couldn't make it on foot I certainly shouldn't have been driving! But as I said, my judgment was impaired, and I unaccustomed to being in that sort of situation. Plus I'd had no warning I was going to get doused with that extra happy mystery ingredient at the shindig. It was also true that I'd been left to my own devices by everyone I knew in the place, hours before.

I did understand I was plenty impaired. But not until I actually got moving did I comprehend my true predicament.

I was barely in this world!

I had to concentrate with incredible fierceness to pilot Shadow at a baby crawl of maybe 10 to 15 mph through a few thankfully quiet intersections, and finally into the dorm parking lot.

That extremely short trip was so mind-boggling to me at the time that I'd still possess some vivid memories of it even roughly 30 years later.

For it'd required enormous effort on my part. I was scared to death I'd run over someone or hit something.

It was frightening enough even through the big-time drugged happiness that I resolved to be more careful about what I imbibed after that. And most certainly not take my car to such events so near my dorm(!) Heck: it'd be better to crawl back on hands and knees, than drive in that state!

What was the mystery ingredient possibly used at the party? I eventually learned of a secret, nearly impossible to get concoction known to the frat, which went by many different names, like the fun stuff, love potion, joy juice, etc., etc. Eventually I actually got to see some in real life.

It was a clear liquid. And it was kept in teeny, tiny bottles.

But everyone denied it'd been used at that party. Claimed the potion was reserved only for much rarer and more important events.

Sometime later Steve would actually come into possession of his own bottle of the stuff, and we'd test it on ourselves and others.

And I must say that that stuff was potent! Unbelievably so! I would think it'd be mighty addictive too, if users could ever get it on a regular basis.

Apparently it got its name "love potion" from the seeming fact that any man or woman could dose their preferred partner with it, and that partner would be utterly devoted to them for several hours afterwards. And no: it didn't knock people out. It just made them extremely happy and affectionate towards everyone around them.

It seemed to be the hippy's free love of the 1960s, in bottled form. Wow!

But in my experience the stuff was awfully hard to come by. There was some talk the Prez's source was somehow related to NASA in Houston Texas. But to my knowledge nobody ever managed to prove it.

And the stuff wasn't for sale. I witnessed people begging to pay outrageous amounts for it, and still be unable to get any.

But as for the potion's use at that party, to this day I don't know for sure that it was.

Heck: I suppose it's possible there was no mystery ingredient at all, but just a random mix of different sorts of alcohol or whatever. And Steve maybe just stoked my suspicions later with his usual hyperbole. And there's always the psychological aspect to it all. I could have gotten some of my altered state of mind simply from the bizarre and wild events I witnessed there-- helping me believe there had to be especially strong stuff at work among us. For there were a few other times I personally witnessed people go pretty wild on stuff I knew for a fact to be nothing out of the ordinary. Indeed, that'd been a prank Steve and I had played on some in earlier instances: giving folks something totally innocuous but pretending like it was some sort of high-powered substance, just to see how they'd react. It was hilarious to watch people think themselves drunk or high when there was in truth nothing like that around! Ha, ha!

For just believing that you're high or drunk can have a surprisingly big effect on a person-- even if no true drugs or alcohol are actually present at the time.

And we're all heavily affected by the behavior of those around us, too. If we're surrounded by people drinking the same stuff we are, and they speak and act like it's doing something to them, we'll usually start feeling and acting like it is to us too.

Basically I'm talking the placebo effect here, only with party favors.

In theory you could have a party run wild simply due to the participants expecting it to-- with no mind-altering substances present at all.

Amazingly enough no one seemed to get seriously hurt or ill in any way relating to the big party. Not even a stomach ache from overeating, as sometimes happened from pot smoking. Or vomiting as frequently occurs with over-drinking. Or at least I never heard of anything in the weeks which followed.

Quite a few funny stories came out of it though. As some party-goers woke up the next morning in strange places, often with little or no clothing! Ha, ha. Steve was one of those with such a story. But I'll leave that to him to perhaps write up someday.

The second most memorable party was one I didn't even go to: for it came to me. Or to everybody on campus, that is. As agents of the frat and others fanned out to spread the word about something special happening at one of the women's dorms at the opposite end of the campus from where we men lived.

The distance involved was only something like a city block or two: so it was easy walking distance.

It seemed every student living on or near campus rushed to the event almost instantaneously.

As the nexus of it all (one of the womens' dorms) was only maybe 50 yards from the University Center and right next door to the combination student-run radio station and headquarters for campus security, the university chiefs learned about it pretty darn quickly too. But they couldn't figure out what to do in response for at least an hour or two. At which point they made some pretty rough threats about simply having the police check student ID cards so everyone not dispersing immediately could be summarily expelled. It was something like that.

I'd end up working for campus security later when I returned to school after a break. But at this time I had no connection to them whatsoever. Steve however did serve a brief stint as a radio disc jockey in the same building there. It may be he lost his job due to this particular night, by broadcasting to the whole campus what was happening in realtime just next-door. At least until campus security stormed upstairs and pulled the plug on him. But by then it was already too late.

Somehow the crowd of mostly men blocking the streets managed to persuade various women in the dorms to put on bed-jumping strip tease acts via their honking big dorm windows.

At least some of the girls seemed to like all the attention from outside.

The windows were pretty large in the dorms. Like maybe five feet tall by three or four feet wide. So spectators could get a pretty good view of a girl jumping up and down on her bed with all her lights on, as she removed various items of clothing.

I personally was amazed at the sight, having never seen women brazenly strip for an audience in real life before. I was also astonished by how long it went on, and how more and more dorm girls began getting into the act, as they realized the huge and growing audience they had just outside. That particular wall of the girls' dorm soon became a cornucopia of strip-tease shows for the male mob outside, with different girls competing to elicit the loudest sounds of approval from the men watching.

Small groups of men also conducted raids into the women's dorm during all this, waving trophies of panties in the air upon their return.

But panties were also raining down from the dorm windows themselves from some of the residents. A few other items like bras and nighties also fell upon us.

And we men loved it!

Campus security ended up having to call in help from the city and county police too I think, to quell the uprising.

There ended up being so many cars flashing blue lights in the vicinity that anyone from my hometown might have suspected me and Shadow to have been up to something there! Ha, ha!

The authorities weren't wholly successful in their efforts. Near the end maybe half a dozen girls emerged from the building dressed in little more than their nightwear or underwear it seemed, to leave with some of the guys from the crowd. I have no idea what happened to them after that: I wasn't anywhere near the bunch when they left the scene (the place was packed!). But the crowd as a whole cheered the girls like they were Moon-shot astronauts. Of course the crowd was cheering at lots of things throughout the whole event.

To be perfectly honest though, I think at least one or two girls might have gotten into really big trouble over the matter. Specifically, either the very first to start stripping in front of her window, and/or maybe the one who most impressed the crowd with her impromptu show.

I don't know if those girls were among those who left the building near the end. A naked smiling girl jumping on a bed in a brightly lit second or third story window can look surprisingly different clothed and walking along a dark sidewalk outside, amidst a throng of appreciative men.

To be continued...

Above is some of my doodling from back then. Here, me and my friend Steve are standing on the Moon, near to where the first Moon walk occurred. That's me on the left, wearing an Army jacket.

Another doodle. This one of me and my friend Steve and his hot girlfriend of the time, who I call "Leann" in the stories. If I recall correctly, she was studying to become a beautiful school teacher (she already had the 'beautiful' part nailed).

Above is yet another doodle from those days. Here, Steve and I are engaged in a firefight with aliens on some planetoid somewhere. That's Steve in the foreground, posing for the picture as I shoot at the attackers (I was the side-kick, after all).

MORE COMING SOON!