Whether you lived in, avoided or casually stopped by to throw a pumpkin out a 9th floor window, McCormick Hall’s history of infamy is one of which the university cannot seem to rid itself. Here’s a peek at why:
It’s all about size
…But really. Living in a pie-shaped 18×10 room is not easy. Things get interesting. And by interesting, we mean really weird. Residents are forced to socialize, whether they like it or not.
Bet You Didn’t Know…
Not everyone was exactly fond of it. “I don’t think the answer to dormitory living is to build a four foot thick concrete dungeon,” said Sebastian Helfer, 1972 director of planning and construction. “These places are zoos, not dormitories.” Well, it does remind us of Animal House.
It was supposed to be a twin. Initial plans for the dorm indicate a second, identical residence hall was supposed to be built behind McCormick. Clearly never worked out. But. Just. Imagine.
It’s only been co-ed since 1990. After 23 years of an all-male tradition, McCormick went co-ed. “I think it’s important for them to interact,” the then-hall-director Charlie Boone said. “It’s a great learning environment for residents.”
Yes. Great learning environment indeed.
An unbiased perspective…
What do we love about McCormick? You don’t have to live in McCormick to get it. I didn’t. I was a Cobeen girl (which I loved every second of) but I just couldn’t help finding myself at McCormick nearly every Saturday night. And then Monday again for warm cookie night. Then maybe a Thursday every now and then, because, well, why not?
So I didn’t live in McCormick, but clearly I understood the obsession. There is just something about that ugly, cramped, dirty, smelly, crowded mess of a building. I never loved McCormick like I loved Cobeen or Schroeder (where I lived my sophomore year), but I loved it like you loved visiting your best friend’s house growing up: you were going to have fun, you were going to eat lots of cookies, you were going to stay up too late and you were probably going to get in some trouble. But it was so worth it. Then when that dreaded moment came—when you had to go home—at least you still had all the memories.
–Alexandra Engler
An extremely biased perspective…
Something about McCormick Hall has hundreds of hopeful incoming freshmen celebrating, sobbing and/or swearing at their computer screens every June. I was one of those incoming freshmen. And thankfully, I was celebrating.
The early summer email in which I learned I’d call McCormick 227 home elicited a greater response than my Marquette acceptance letter. I probably made a Facebook status about it. Because, in all honesty, I came to Marquette to live in McCormick.
I do realize this sounds ridiculous. But I was 17. I didn’t bother vetting Marquette’s journalism and English programs—I scoped out the dorms. I decided to attend a university because I was obsessed with a pie-shaped concrete building. (Surprise, parents!) Now, I can thankfully say I love the university for many reasons other than McCormick, but as a senior in high school, that was it. McCormick had me.
Now, I admit I very well may have been completely happy in Abbottsford or Cobeen. I have many friends who were. But the fact is McCormick made my Marquette experience what it was.
I can’t imagine Marquette without it, even though I’ve been forced to as rumors circulate that it might be replaced with a new, “structurally sound” dorm. (Yeah, like that’s more important than keeping a building shaped like beer can.)
But hey, I’ll leave everyone feeling a little reassured. When (or better yet–if) the building reaches its expiration date, students aren’t going to chain themselves to it (actually I make no promises) and alumni won’t stop donating money. We’ll just be nostalgic. And sad. We can always build more legacies. But, man, I’m sure glad I was a part of this one.
-Sarah Butler
How to replace McCormick (without making everyone extremely angry)
A checklist for the university architect who takes on the daunting task of replacing McCormick Hall—whenever, if ever—that occurs:
+ACCOMMODATE 700+ FRESHMEN
+ COMMUNITY BATHROOMS ARE A MUST