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The building that houses the Joseph H. Lauder Institute for Management & International Studies at Penn is undergoing a renovation, Wharton announced in a press release on Tuesday.
The University of Pennsylvania's Center for the Study of Ethnicity, Race, and Immigration received a research fund to support further undergraduate research at Penn.
Cornell University reclassified its economics major as a STEM program this week, joining the four other Ivy League universities which have also done so in the past year. Penn is not among their ranks.
Laughter and applause erupted from the Terrace Room in Claudia Cohen Hall Thursday night as part of Penn Media and Entertainment Week.
But many students know very little about these candidates and what they stand for. As has been the case in the past, this year's election process, if unaltered, will play out as nothing more than a popularity contest.
The UIC community was stunned by news of a series of terrorist attacks against the United States Tuesday. As news of the attacks spread, classes and campus wide events were cancelled. Hundreds of students and staff gathered around a big screen television in the Montgomery Ward Lounge all morning, and expressed emotions ranging from grief to anger. As was the case last year during violence outbreaks in the Middle East, Muslim and Jewish students were particularly concerned about the way the news might affect the campus. "I feel like the Muslim community as a whole is unfairly blamed for individual terrorist attacks," said a Muslim student. "I don't like it because people have been staring at me as if I had some connection to the bombings. One bad apple spoils the barrel." Noah Wolfe, Student Trustee and former president of UIC Hillel, said that he was "outraged" over the incident. "The United States cannot bow to terrorism," he said gravely. Wolfe and individual members of the Undergraduate Student Government asked the Adam Wyle band to stop playing. The band, which was on campus in connection with the Volunteer Fair, went home, and the Fair will be rescheduled. USG may cancel its meeting tonight. "I think it's a tragic event, and I'm sure I speak for everyone on USG when I say we send our heartfelt thoughts to the family members and everyone else who was affected by the attacks," said Julio Nolasco, Speaker for the Assembly on USG. Students in general seemed to be disturbed by the incidents. Even before classes were cancelled, Muslim students and others were calling professors to request that their classes be rescheduled. "It's frightening to see the images on television, and to be a part of such a terrible national tragedy," said Jerry Logaras, UIC senior. Unconfirmed rumors on campus included an evacuation of University Hall and other buildings. In a statement that UIC Chancellor Sylvia Manning released at about noon, she noted that "as a matter of policy, the campus itself never closes because of our residential, research, and clinical operations." Student activists and union workers cancelled a protest that had been scheduled at today's Board of Trustees meeting. The Board meeting will go on as scheduled, although it may be shortened. Volunteers lined up at the UIC hospitals to donate blood, as a national call for blood went out. Thousands of victims in New York were expected to accentuate the national ongoing blood shortage. An interfaith vigil on behalf of the victims will be held in the Lecture Center Plaza at noon Wednesday. It is sponsored by the Religious Worker's Association.
From Binyamin Appelbaum's, "Carving Marble," Fall '00 From Binyamin Appelbaum's, "Carving Marble," Fall '00On January 15, 2001 -- Martin Luther King Day -- the University of Pennsylvania community will observe "a day on, not a day off." Classes will be canceled, offices closed and faculty, students and staff will be encouraged to commemorate the legacy of the Reverend Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. by performing community service. Of course, there is ample reason to doubt that students will return early from their winter breaks for the purpose of participating in MLK Day events. But more on that later. First and foremost, it is worth noting that the motives behind the holiday's creation were different than those Penn is now choosing to celebrate. According to the 1983 legislation that established America's newest national holiday, "the birthday of Martin Luther King, Jr.? should serve as a time for Americans to reflect on the principles of racial equality and nonviolent social change espoused by Martin Luther King, Jr." But however wonderful that idea may have been, America was slow to sign up. Federal workers enjoyed a paid holiday -- but the vast majority of the American workforce did not. Some commentators chalked up the lackadaisical commemoration efforts to racism. Others pointed to the hefty price tag for a day's paid vacation. But ultimately, the failure of the King holiday as originally conceived boiled down to something much simpler: you just can't legislate what will and what will not prove meaningful. In that respect, the failure of MLK Day was hardly unique. How many of us spend Memorial Day contemplating world peace? Or Independence Day seriously thinking about life under some alternative system of government? Ditto for President's Day and the black sheep of the national holiday family -- Columbus Day. The truth is, Americans use national holidays for rest and relaxation, not reflection or commemoration. But by the early 1990s, then-U.S. Senator Harris Wofford (D-Pa.) was becoming uncomfortable watching MLK Day become just another three-day weekend. "All around the country, the observation of the holiday was words about Dr. King," Wofford said at the time. "I wasn't against words, but King constantly said that you had to turn words into deeds." Wofford believed that MLK Day could be imbued with a new meaning -- it could become a day given over to community service. In the words of Coretta Scott King, "The greatest birthday gift my husband could receive is if people of all racial and ethnic backgrounds celebrated the holiday by performing individual acts of kindness through service to others." On August 23, 1994, that vision of MLK Day became federal law as President Clinton signed a bill entitled the "Martin Luther King Jr. Federal Holiday and Service Act," expanding the mission of the holiday to include community service. While governments at every level would have been browbeaten into observing MLK Day irrespective of the theme adjustment, there is no question that the changed emphasis pumped new life into the holiday. This year was the sixth that MLK Day was observed as a day of service. The largest such effort took place in Philadelphia, where almost 18,000 people turned out to participate in projects city-wide. Wofford's Corporation for National Service also pumped out almost $600,000 in grants to help communities nationwide increase the scope and efficacy of MLK Day service programs. All of this is a wonderful tribute to the man who insisted that "Life's persistent and most urgent question is 'What are you doing for others?'" even if it is not the tribute envisioned when the holiday was first created in his memory. You, dear reader, will doubtless note the absurdity inherent in assuming that Penn students will not simply extend their winter breaks by a day. And maybe all the University wants is the opportunity to declare that Penn observes Martin Luther King Day. But if the goal is to honor King by doing more than paying him lip service, Penn must work to provide students with structured opportunities to participate in community service. If that is not done, and done well, Penn students won't be missing MLK Day activities because of class conflicts. They'll be out on the ski slopes instead.
The Associated Press WASHINGTON, D.C. -- The Food and Drug Administration will begin forcing scientists to monitor patient safety better during gene therapy experiments and conduct surprise inspections to make sure researchers follow the rules. Federal regulations already require that researchers establish patient-safety monitoring systems before putting experimental treatments to the test. But the FDA acknowledged yesterday it has not enforced the rules for gene therapists. Indeed, in the Penn experiment that killed 18-year-old Jesse Gelsinger, ''there were deficiencies in the monitoring,'' FDA Gene Therapy Chief Kathryn Zoon said. University researchers did not have a formal patient monitoring system, something the FDA said it discovered only when it inspected the hospital's gene therapy lab after Gelsinger died. Under the FDA's new initiative, all gene therapy researchers must appoint someone not directly involved with their experiments to monitor patient safety. The monitors could comprise contract research organizations or other scientists at a hospital or university. The monitors are not truly independent -- the gene therapists hire them. But the FDA pledged to ensure gene therapy monitors are working and know the law requires them to report patient-safety problems to the government -- and to conduct random, surprise inspections to make sure. Experiments that do not comply can be halted. ''We believe these are important steps? to ensure patient safety,'' Zoon said. The initiative sparked a mixed reaction. ''They were supposed to be doing that already,'' said bioethicist George Annas, a Boston University professor of health law. ''The FDA has let this get out of hand. They don't inspire a lot of confidence.'' He questioned whether FDA inspectors had the time or expertise to oversee how more than 350 gene therapy experiments now under way are conducted. But another critic welcomed the change. ''The patient-safety monitoring is the most important element that's been missing in all of this,'' said Abbey Meyers, president of the National Organization for Rare Disorders and a former National Institutes of Health gene therapy adviser. Today, gene therapists can conduct experiments for years without anyone checking how their patients fared, Meyers said. So FDA inspections are vital, but the agency lacks the money and people, she said. ''The FDA's budget has been raped, absolutely raped, over the last 10 years,'' Meyers said. ''Congress has got to give them the money to do this job right.'' The FDA employs between 150 and 200 clinical trial inspectors, but they never have been asked to judge patient-safety monitoring in early-stage experiments or to focus on gene therapy instead of the many other types of human experiments now under way. Gelsinger's death is the only one so far blamed directly on gene therapy, among experiments on about 5,000 patients in 10 years. This new field has not cured anyone yet. And the NIH has discovered hundreds of adverse reactions patients suffered that researchers delayed reporting to government experts who oversee the experiments' safety.
From Andrew Exum's, "Perlious Orthodoxy," Fall '00 From Andrew Exum's, "Perlious Orthodoxy," Fall '00The Secret Service agent glided down the aisle, his loose-fitting suit cut a size too large in order to conceal the bulge from a pistol strapped to his side. And the protesters outside waited in silent apprehension with their placards and picket signs. Yes, the president was in town. And by the hundreds we sat there -- students, faculty, administrators, congressmen and media -- waiting for our man of the moment to step out onto the stage. When he did, an hour late and looking tired, we jumped from our seats to greet our hero with applause and ovations. Bill Clinton's speech last Thursday inaugurated the new Granoff Forum on global economics, a venture financed by College alumnus Michael Granoff. And yet while most people were there to hear Clinton's thoughts on globalization, the stock market and the new dot.com economy, the thing that most caught my ear was the way in which Clinton's talk echoed former Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu's remarks in the same building last semester. In both instances, the two heads of state used their given time at the podium to more or less defend their terms in office. For Netanyahu, that meant justifying his foreign policy and reminding the audience of his domestic policy successes. For Clinton, that meant once again telling the audience -- in the words of trusted advisor James Carville -- that, "it's the economy, stupid." It also meant harping on the successes of his tenure rather than the many scandals and nadirs. Clearly, Clinton is a man whose life after he leaves office will be dominated -- and, indeed, perhaps tormented -- by his thoughts on how he will be judged in the history books. He is a man in every way obsessed with his legacy. But if Bill Clinton is searching for what his legacy will be, here it is: Bill Clinton does -- and always will -- represent great promise unfulfilled. Nothing less, but nothing more. I volunteered for Clinton's campaign in 1992. I voted for him in 1996. And yes, despite all that has happened -- despite the interns, the bimbo eruptions and the countless scandals ending in the word "gate" -- I would vote for him again. Why? Well, perhaps in the hope -- just the hope -- that he would for once live up to the enormous potential that excited the country and propelled him to two terms in office. For the past eight years, we as a populace have been simultaneously blessed and cursed with one of the most remarkable -- and one of the most disappointing -- men to have ever held the office of the president. Those who know swear that a so-called "photographic" memory is an impossibility. But Clinton has been known to flip through a stack of donor cards two inches thick the evening before a fundraiser and remember every single fact about the men and women in the file. Uncanny. But he is also an adulterer. Certainly, the man is a genius, a Rhodes scholar able to process a hundred different problems at once and retain a greater vision in his goals. But he is also a liar. As a public speaker, Clinton is without peer. A few years ago, media magnate Ted Turner spoke at my high school. He was by all accounts an awful speaker -- we counted he used the word "uh" 173 times in a 10-minute speech. But Clinton's vision has too often been confused and clouded in his tenure by his very public short-comings. Of course, our country has been blessed before with leaders so immaculate in public yet so tragically flawed in their personal lives. But Bill Clinton was a new experience for America. Unlike with other presidents who may have strayed in their marriages, we the public paid for Clinton's sins perhaps as much as he and his family did. While Watergate destroyed the Office of the President, the Clinton tenure destroyed the president as a man -- both this one and perhaps all to come. Our hero for whom we held such great hopes fell flat on his face. And even as we stood cheering on Thursday, we all knew that the economy isn't the only thing that's changed dramatically over the past eight years. In our presidents, this country has always demanded a little more than the average man. We've always demanded the exceptional, the example for us all to follow. I'm not sure we will ever be so naive again.
Apparently, I have a secret. The Quakers overcame a hearty dose of adversity to roar back and defeat their wrestling archrival, Cornell, 19-16 in a battle between the nation's 14th- and 15th-ranked teams. Very much a winner-take-all affair, recent history tells us the team left standing after the Quakers and the Big Red lock horns will roll to the Ivy title. Think Penn and Princeton have a basketball dynasty? The last time a team other than Penn or Cornell was crowned Ivy League champ, the Fridge was making Super Bowl headlines, Lt. Col. Oliver North was busy selling arms to the Contras and Vice President George Bush was considering a run for the presidency two years down the road. With an air of drama hanging thick over the Palestra, it seems the only thing missing was the Penn students. While the friends, family and alumni of Penn wrestling filled the chairback seats in the south stands and kept the noise level high, a generous estimate might put the number of unaffiliated Penn students at around two dozen. Yet for some reason, almost 2,500 fans were willing to brave a blinding snow storm last Tuesday to trudge down to the Palestra for Penn-Drexel basketball. The sub-.500 Quakers played yet another forgettable game, trying every way possible to hand the game to the undersized Dragons before eking out an agonizingly boring 54-46 non-league win. That's just the way college sports work. The basketball players are minor celebrities, and the wrestlers go unnoticed. At this very moment, most of the people reading this page in the dining hall are probably spilling crumbs on this column as they read the basketball results adjacent to my 1,000 words and two cents. So I'll let it slide, the fact that you call yourself a sports fan and yet somehow skipped out on an opportunity to see some actual excitement at the Palestra. I never planned to write a column about the match, but it was simply too dramatic -- too important -- for me to let it slide by with just a handful of Penn students noticing. Allow me to set the stage. Penn, ranked No. 15, and Cornell, ranked No. 14, shared the Ivy title last year after wrestling to a 16-16 draw early in the season. In '93-94, the Quakers won their first Ivy title in 22 years after edging Cornell and snapping the Big Red's eight-year Ivy unbeaten streak. Since then, the only Ivy loss for the Quakers came at the hands of Cornell in '95. And they had not lost to Cornell at the Palestra since '92. Penn 125-pounder Kevin Rucci broke a bone in his hand at the National Dual Meet tournament, forcing the Quakers -- without another eligible 125-pounder -- to forfeit the weight class to Cornell. Thus, the home squad found itself in a hole from the get-go. With the match starting at 165 pounds and ending at 157, the two squads watched the lead see-saw. Penn took a 6-0 edge after two matches but Cornell led 13-9 after the forfeit at 125. At 133 pounds, Quakers senior Jason Nagle outwrestled Big Red junior Sean Doyle to shrink Cornell's lead to one with three matches remaining. Although the Quakers could count on a win by second-ranked Brett Matter at 157, if they did not win at either 141 or 149, Cornell would be assured the victory, Matter or no Matter. At 141, Penn freshman Jody Giuricich lost the first takedown to Big Red senior Ben New. Giuricich wrestled valiantly, though; trailing by one, he rode out New in the third period to earn a crucial riding-time point and send the match into sudden-death overtime. The veteran from Cornell prevailed, however, taking down the Penn frosh in OT to win the bout and make it 16-12, Cornell. Enter the hero, Penn's Jonathan Gough. A little-known senior in his first year in the starting lineup, Gough squared off at 149 against Alex Berman, a Cornell junior with six pins to his name this year. Berman got the first takedown, sending a hush over the Penn crowd as Cornell inched closer to victory. Gough, however, got the quick escape to make it 2-1. In the second period, Gough again escaped to tie it at two. Even then, however, a betting man would have put his money on the Big Red. The Cornell wrestler would choose bottom, escape for his one, and take the match. But Berman, an Israeli native, chose neutral. "With international-style wrestling, they're not as good on the mat," Penn coach Roger Reina said. "So I think they feared going underneath." Nonetheless, Berman appeared to have Gough just where he wanted when he lunged for a head throw midway through the period. In the instant when Berman was bringing Gough to the mat, it seemed a sure thing that Gough would give up at least the two takedown points -- much less any near-fall points if he landed on his back -- shoring up the Big Red victory. Gough, however, rose to the occasion, rolling through to avoid even the takedown. With the match still tied at two, Gough rallied for a late takedown of his own to win 4-2, pulling the rug out from under the Big Red and keeping Penn alive in the match. The frenzied fans shook the Palestra with excitement while the devastated wrestlers on the Cornell bench hung their heads. Sure enough, a charged Matter tooled 17th-ranked Cornell senior Leo Urbanelli, earning a 13-1 major decision to seal the Quakers' 19-16 victory. "That meet is going to rank right up there with some of the best of all time," said Reina, beaming at the way his squad overcame the adversity of having to forfeit at 125. "Our athletes accepted the challenge and rose to the occasion." As I said, I went to the Palestra as a fan, not expecting to write. But this match was just too exciting to keep to myself. Contrary to popular belief, there is an exciting team of national importance that calls the Palestra home. And that squad has one match left at home, on February 20 against always-tough Lehigh. See you there. The secret, I hope, is out.
Dr. Martin Luther King's birthday is and ought to be a time to remember the message of the late civil rights leader and to honor his legacy. To do so, President Judith Rodin has recommended that classes not be held on Martin Luther King Day in the future, we believe holding classes is entirely consistent with the principles and guiding spirit of the holiday. But the goals of the commemoration -- a greater appreciation for America's diversity and remembrance of Dr. King's message -- are not compromised when students and faculty engage in academic work. And classes do not detract from an individual's ability to celebrate the holiday in a manner befitting Dr. King's memory. Therefore, we believe that classes should continue to be held on this day in the future Dr. King's birthday should be -- and for many, is -- a day to reflect on the civil rights movement, its successes and those dreams that have yet to be fulfilled. It is a day that unites all Americans, reminds us of where we have been and allows us to look at where we are going as individuals and as a society. Every year, this campus sees a plethora of speakers, programs and service activities that succeed in keeping Dr. King's spirit alive, now 71 years since his birth. We strongly encourage all students to take advantage of these powerful opportunities, both on the King holiday and over the course of the year. It is imperative that the ideals for which Dr. King lived and died be passed onto the next generation, and active participation in the events marking this holiday will make that a reality. But Dr. King was also a firm believer in the power of an educated mind, and holding classes is an embodiment of his vision, not a denigration of it. King was an active campaigner for civil rights in the days before Brown v. Board of Education, and no image would be more consistent with his vision than that of students, from a variety of backgrounds, engaging on equal footing in vigorous academic dialogue. Truly commemorating Dr. King does not mean limiting opportunities for personal and intellectual growth. Those who would make Martin Luther King Jr. Day an official University holiday should consider whether canceling classes would really better serve the goal of honoring Dr. King and his vision.
Not quite. While a glowing Quakers coach Al Bagnoli might have been expected at the press conference after witnessing sophomore tailback Kris Ryan's near-record-setting display, only a concerned Bagnoli showed up. "We are still not where we want to be," Bagnoli said. "We are still a little bit too erratic. Our offense is based on having balance." Running the ball for 293 yards and throwing it for 140 yards in their 35-18 win over the Rams (0-5), Penn's offense was anything but balanced Saturday. Remember the old adage: "First establish the run, then the pass." In Saturday's game, the run was established, but the pass went out the back door. Some might excuse the unevenness because of Penn running back Kris Ryan's stellar day (35 carries, 256 yards rushing) but the Quakers did not simply give the ball to Ryan and say, "Thank you very much." Penn still attempted 32 passes, completing 15. Averaging just over four yards a pass attempt (two-thirds less than last year's average) against a defense positioning eight men to guard against the run can often spell trouble. In Penn's case, it most certainly does. The Quakers have spent the past 10 months, including their four regular season games this year, trying to develop their passing game in the post-Matt Rader era. Unfortunately for Penn, the team has not been blessed with large amounts of luck. Besides graduating their second-team All-Ivy Quarterback from last season, the Quakers have dealt with a dwindling receiving corps. Penn, first trying to solve the quarterback problem, handed the reins over to a Division I-A transfer student. Trying to play the role of savior, Penn sophomore quarterback -- and former Northwestern starter -- Gavin Hoffman has not lived up to lofty expectations and has only thrown for 614 yards on 124 attempts. He has thrown five interceptions and three touchdowns and has been sacked 12 times. Although Hoffman has not come around yet, Bagnoli has kept everything the same as day one, hoping things would eventually click. Instead of turning into a well-oiled machine, Penn's offense has not left the shop. "We are not connecting right now," senior wide receiver Brandon Carson said. "As receivers, we might run the right route but we might not run a good route. The offense needs to work together and be more consistent." So with a superior running attack and a sub-standard passing attack, what can the Quakers do? A possible solution would be to keep going to the passing game, relying on it as a major part of the offense. Those who watched the Villanova game and Penn's first three quarters against Bucknell might not agree. In both situations, the Quakers tried a balance attack and were found buried deep in a hole. The Quakers no longer have the luxury of trying new things and using the best game plan to win football games. The only signs of progress in Penn's passing game came in the final five minutes against Bucknell, when Hoffman completed his final 13-of-18 passes for 155 yards. Hopefully for the Quakers in future games, it will not take a 16-point deficit to establish a passing attack. Another solution might be to simply hand the ball to Penn's running backs. Ryan has shown in these first four games that he is a force to be reckoned with. Averaging 6.8 yards per carry and 21.5 carries per game, Ryan has been handling most of the load. Sophomore Matt Thomas and junior Mike Verille add two more willing and able bodies to fill in when Ryan takes a breather. With Ryan receiving the attention from defenders, Hoffman and his receivers will have their opportunity to make connections without facing double or triple coverage, as in Saturday's game. "It's nice to have a kid back there you can give the ball to and make some plays," Bagnoli said. "He can take some pressure off of some positions right now that we are not as consistent as we would like to be." "He is the most consistent person right now," Carson said. "It will open up a passing game eventually." It is nothing new for the Quakers. Last season, Penn kept the ball on the ground 60 percent of the time. This resulted in one of the Quakers' best passing seasons ever, as they averaged 7.3 yards per pass attempt and had 17 touchdowns to just eight interceptions. While the Quakers did have Jim Finn, the Bushnell Cup winner, in the backfield, Kris Ryan could possibly be even better. "He is definitely up there," Fordham coach Dave Clawson said. "For what Penn does offensively, this guy is perfect. They run a lot of power plays. They get him behind two or three pulling offensive linemen. He does a great job feeling his way."
OK, so it might not have been The Longest Yard or even Varsity Blues, but the fans were certainly abuzz about what appeared to be unfolding on the field. For all intents and purposes, it appeared that former Northwestern starter and current Penn quarterback Gavin Hoffman had been benched for a shoddy first-half against the Bison and replaced by an unknown freshman. On the heels of a 34-6 loss to Villanova, Hoffman had started the game 4-of-9 passing for 54 yards; his last release before hitting the sidelines was an interception that set up Bucknell's go-ahead score. On Penn's next drive, with 1:02 left in the half, a new quarterback stepped in. Wearing No. 12, freshman Mike Mitchell fired his first pass down the right sideline to Brandon Carson for a gain of 20. On the next play, he rifled one deep over the middle to Jason Battung. It fell incomplete, but the crowd's interest was piqued -- after a near-dormant first-half, here was a QB putting some zip on the ball for the Quakers. In the press box, reporters were scurrying to find out who this kid Mitchell was and how he escalated from anonymity to No. 2 -- or even No. 1 -- on the Penn depth chart. Four plays later, Mitchell and the Quakers marched 56 yards to the Bucknell nine with 20 ticks on the clock. But Vince Ficca intercepted Mitchell at the goal line, silencing Penn's go-ahead attempt. And any QB controversy was silenced two hours later, when Penn coach Al Bagnoli revealed that Hoffman had suffered a minor concussion. "In the middle of the second period, Gavin got hit in the head," Bagnoli said. "We kept asking him, and [he said] he was OK? but we finally made the determination that he had a minor concussion." It's difficult to tell when exactly Hoffman got hit, or which hit it was that caused the proverbial cobwebs to set in. That's because he was sacked six times on Saturday. Narrowing it down, he was sacked twice in the second quarter -- once by 261-pound right end Eric Green and once by nose guard Peter Christathakis. The mild concussion certainly explains Hoffman's performance following the second sack. On the next drive, Penn went to tailback Kris Ryan three straight plays, and the committee member-turned-workhorse brought the Quakers from the 12 to the 23. Then, on first down, the 6'6" Hoffman fired a pass from shotgun that was tipped by 5'11" linebacker Shawn Redd. Once again out of the shotgun, Hoffman looked to an open Carson on the next play but underthrew his veteran receiver. Outside linebacker Eric Higgins stepped in, picking off the pass and returning it 23 yards to the Penn four. Three plays later, the Bison went ahead for good, 10-7, on a quarterback keeper. "Unfortunately, we made that determination [regarding the concussion] after he was in there for two or three series, including the pick," Bagnoli said. "I think we're going to see on the film that obviously his speed of decision making was not what it needed to be. "At that point, you try to sit him out, you put Mitchell in the game to try to buy some time and let the cobwebs clear a little bit." The mild concussion might explain that series, but what does one make of his mediocre performance prior to getting hit? Hoffman's Jekyll-and-Hyde second half after returning in the third quarter is even more befuddling. Prior to the fateful interception, Hoffman was 4-of-8 for 54 yards. However, only 17 yards came in the air -- an average of less than 4.3 yards per completion -- as his receivers added 37 yards after the catch. Granted, three of the Quakers' top pass catchers in '98 are either injured or not at Penn this year. But more was expected of the most touted Penn newcomer in years than 358 yards in five halves of play. Prior to the season, Bagnoli described Hoffman as the prototypical dropback passer, perhaps moreso than his predecessor, Matt Rader. Why, then, had Hoffman attempted so few deep passes? He did not crack the 200-yard mark in the season-opening win against Dartmouth and last week, he threw for just 108 yards against Villanova. By the first half against Bucknell -- a team which had been exploited, if not abused, by Towson and Delaware State in its last two games for 743 passing yards and six passes of over 40 yards -- expectations were high that Hoffman would cease getting his feet wet and finally start airing it out. Meanwhile, with Penn treading water on offense, Hoffman checked back in. He finished the quarter 1-of-2 for minus-4 yards. Early in the fourth, he was sacked on third-and-seven in a five-receiver set, putting Bucknell in position to score its third touchdown. Cobwebs or no cobwebs, though, an altogether new Hoffman emerged with Penn trailing 23-7. Over Penn's three drives in the final 5:41 of the game, Hoffman completed 13-of-18 passes for 155 yards, including a 49-yard aerial strike on fourth-and-16 to Erik Bolinder with 2:37 left, jolting the remaining fans to life. A two-point conversion would make it a possible one-possession difference when time was of the essence. Bagnoli once referred to Hoffman, who seemingly fell out of the sky from Northwestern to Penn, as "a transfer from God." On the PAT attempt after the 49-yard bomb, Hoffman saw an opening to the right and went for it, building up steam virtually untouched. But the 5'10" Ficca, eight inches and 34 pounds lighter than Hoffman, stepped up to the goal line and singlehandedly redirected Hoffman, denying the score. Transfers from God make it into the endzone on plays like that. Penn recovered the onside kick, making Ficca's goal line stand loom that much larger. Hoffman then completed four straight to lead Penn to the 22 before the offense stagnated, setting up a Jason Feinberg field goal to make it a seven-point game. The defense responded, shutting down the Bison and returning the ball to Hoffman at the Penn 25 with 48 seconds left. He completed two quick passes to Rob Milanese for a total of 35 yards, spiked the ball to stop the clock and then hit Colin Smith for 11 yards, to set up first-and10 at the Bucknell 29 with 27 seconds left. Penn was in striking distance and Hoffman appeared ready to quiet his detractors and be carried off the field in one fell swoop. It was not to be, though, as Hoffman was sacked for the sixth time, coughing up the ball. Bucknell's Green swallowed it up and the fans swallowed whatever cheers they were hoping to emit and headed for the exits. After the game, Hoffman left the field to have his head examined by a team doctor. Meanwhile, puzzled Penn fans filed out of Franklin Field, not knowing whether the would-be star had been temporarily benched, and wondering when the former high school All-American would deliver more than just five-minute flashes of brilliance, concussion or no concussion.
Until yesterday, it never bothered me that the Ivy League discriminated against its football teams. I guess I just never really thought about it carefully before. While most football fans saddle onto the couch for a Saturday afternoon with a bag of chips, a remote and a major college game on the tube, as a lifelong Ivy fan I've spent more Saturday afternoons than I can remember braving the elements in one celebrated-if-not-antiquated stadium after another. I remember trying to dodge the frigid rain running off the umbrella of the fan behind me while watching the Quakers pound the Bears at Brown Stadium in '88. I remember desperately trying not to get trampled to death as I stormed the field last November against Harvard. And as long as I have known that Ivy League teams don't go to the playoffs, I have taken it for granted, accepting the fact that the teams I've been watching won't see their seasons run past Thanksgiving, no matter how successful. It wasn't that I didn't realize that of the 33 Ivy League champions crowned, only the football teams could not compete in the postseason. But I just accepted it as a fact of Ivy League life and it didn't bother me. I thought I knew all the stock reasons why -- reasons like the playoffs would interfere with exams and the Ivy Leaguers would get crunched by their I-AA scholarship brethren -- and I accepted them. Sure, it might have been nice to see the champs play on. But, if they didn't, then so be it. After all, the Ivy League is certainly not like any other conference around. An anachronism, the Ivy League made me long for an era I never even witnessed -- of 50,000 fans packing monolithic stadiums in the days before TV -- while at the same time I was accepting of its current unique position. To me, staying out of the playoffs was not an elitist, trying-to-be-different move but simply one of the quirks that made the old conference seem more lovably unique. According to Bilsky, this question hinges on two issues. "One issue is the question of fairness," he said. "Every sport in the Ivies is represented in the NCAA Tournament [except football]." This issue is not even debatable. The Ivy League discriminates against football. But is this discrimination well founded? According to Orleans, "From the outset in '54, the original group of Ivy League presidents said we will not have postseason play in football. So the issue has always been are we going to change one of the founding tenets of the Ivy League approach to athletics or not?" When the Ivy League was formally founded, de-emphasizing football was key -- scholarships, spring practice and postseason play were forbidden. In those days, however, the Ivies were still Division I. But the presidents could not have foreseen the creation of I-AA in 1978, a clear de-emphasis from I-A. And entering a 16-team I-AA playoff is hardly a sign that the next stop is million-dollar TV deals, booster scandals and a slot in a New Year's Day bowl. The second issue is, according to Bilsky, "Are we competitive?" The answer, quite simply: Yes. Consider the Patriot League, the Ivy's closest gridiron cousin. Ivy teams played 18 of their 24 nonleague games last year against Patriot League schools and won 10 of them. Until 1995, league bylaws declared all Patriot League teams ineligible for the NCAA Division I-AA tournament -- just like the Ivy League. In '95, though, the league's Council Of Presidents reversed its policy, stating that football should be granted the same NCAA post-season opportunities as every other league-sponsored sport. In 1997, Colgate finished 6-0 in Patriot League play to earn the conference's first automatic bid to the tournament. That year, the Red Raiders scraped by with a 44-38 overtime win against an average Cornell squad; against a homeless, road-weary Princeton team, they lost 31-28. Last year, the Patriot League sent two teams to the I-AA playoffs. That's right, two -- a scenario just as unlikely as the Ivies sending two basketball teams to the NCAAs. While Colgate copped an at-large spot, Lehigh went unbeaten in the league to earn the automatic bid, yet beat middle-of-the-pack Princeton, Harvard and Columbia by a total of 12 points during the regular season. Lehigh then won its first tournament game against Richmond before succumbing in the round of eight to eventual national champ UMass by a mere six points. Villanova's blowout win Saturday -- in just Penn's second game of the season -- changes nothing. The Ivy champ has a long history of elevating its level of play as the season wears on. It's not surprising, then, that Bilsky favors going to the playoffs, as does Penn coach Al Bagnoli, who said, without hesitation, "Any coach is going to answer 'yes' [in favor]." But there's still one issue left: that of academics -- a conflict with reading week and exam period. The single-elimination, 16-team I-AA football playoffs run each Saturday from November 27 through December 18 this year. This reasoning inherently presents a Catch-22. Penn begins its reading period on December 11, before many of its counterparts. Thus, anyone arguing that postseason play is an impediment to academics believes that the Ivy League champion has at least a shot of playing into the third round of the tournament. And keeping football out for academic reasons is just plain unfair. Consider baseball, where the Ivy champ in the NCAA tournament plays until the end of May. Last June, there may have been at least a chink in the 45-year-old armor protecting the prohibition. Brown president Gordon Gee, president of Big Ten football power Ohio State until 1998, raised the question. "[It was] certainly in my memory, the most extensive and thorough discussion," Orleans said. "I think it would be fair to say that it was the first time an individual president had actually said, 'This is an issue that I personally think we ought to review so that I understand what our decision is and what it means for my specific institution.'" The issue is not mine to decide. It is neither Bilsky's nor Orleans', who calls himself the "presidents' servant in this matter." It is the decision of the Council of Ivy Group presidents. So Dr. Rodin, please listen: Until yesterday, it never bothered me that the Ivy League held back when it came to football playoffs. As a diehard Ivy League fan, I accepted it. But because I am an Ivy League fan, I want to see what's best for the conference. And now I know what that is. Bring on the playoffs.
Until recently, no one other than the Office of Student Conduct was notified of your citation. Not anymore. The law that had long protected student privacy rights -- the Family Education Rights and Privacy Act, a.k.a. The Buckley Amendment -- has recently been amended by Congress to allow universities to disclose to parents certain instances in which their sons and daughters have violated the school's drug and alcohol policy. Universities across the country are suddenly faced with creating "parental notification policies" to govern when they will release such information to parents. Now the question is, what will Penn do? The University released a statement in The Almanac today detailing a series of recommendations concerning parental notification. The new policy will not be made official until after a consultation period extending through October 15. Under the recommendations, parents would be notified in one of two cases: first, if the student faces eviction from a University residence by virtue of previous citations for underage possession or consumption; second, if the student has injured themselves or others in connection with an alcohol violation. The reasons for this policy may not at first seem apparent. Most Penn students are legal adults over the age of 18 and are responsible for their own actions. But considering that multiple infractions are required before a parent is notified of their child's alcohol citations, the proposed measure seems intended to promote health and safety, rather than serve as a punitive measure. Under no circumstances will a student be penalized for receiving treatment at HUP. This is not a closed issue. Some students feel that a three-strikes policy should be considered, with the first infraction being wiped from a student's record after attending alcohol education. Others have stated that the policy should only pertain to citations given within a two-year period. But to students who think that notification is a severe infringement on personal privacy, we would ask the following: If after receiving multiple citations and attending seminars and counseling a student continues to commit alcohol-related infractions, perhaps the University has done all it can. Isn't it then time to ask for support from parents and family? And to students who think that the new alcohol notification policy is a good idea, we would ask a different question: Aren't you concerned that the University would be infringing on your right to personal privacy? Shouldn't each student be responsible for themselves? In any event, students should seriously consider the implications of parental notification. This measure concerns the privacy, personal privileges, and safety of all undergraduates at Penn. The Undergraduate Assembly would like to invite your participation in an open forum with the administration on Wednesday, September 29, at 6 p.m. in Logan Hall, Room 17. Your thoughts and concern do matter. Make them heard.
This summer I decided to do something that few women would ever dare to try -- I moved into a fraternity house. You see, when I was given the opportunity to sublet a room in a house on Locust Walk for the summer, I jumped at the chance. To me it seemed like an extremely inexpensive way to meet a wide range of people. Although the summer has barely begun, I have already come to a few realizations about fraternities and the "frat boy" in particular. However, I must make the following disclaimer before I begin: I am proud to be an active member of the Greek system, and I believe that it promotes friendship, community service, scholarship, and campus involvement. Still, I had my own preconceptions of fraternities and the men within their ranks. Perhaps as a result of attending one too many parties and then watching my male friends suffer through pledging during the spring, I perceived fraternity men solely as alcohol-obsessed hedonists. I will be the first to admit that I fell for the common misconception that frat boys are dirty, smelly, leering, uncaring and insensitive. Harsh, I know, but Animal House made a lasting impression on me. But after a couple of weeks of living in a fraternity house, here is what I have learned: Although I still agree with the "smelly and dirty" part of the misconception mentioned above, "frat boys" are real people with legitimate feelings and valuable opinions. For me, nothing drove this home more than the little things: when one brother who lived in the house put together my roommate's bed without being asked, simply because it was a nice thing to do. Or when I returned home from work to find a group of brothers in the front yard, playing tennis and cards with three underprivileged kids whom they had befriended on the Walk. Many "frat boys" have serious girlfriends and are caring individuals who treat women with respect. I was surprised by the protective nature that these men take on when they see a female friend upset, stressed out, or in trouble. With surprisingly good intuition, the men in the house can easily spot a friend in trouble and move quickly to remedy the situation. I admit there is an immature contingent of Greek men who have received the "player" tag for their womanizing behavior, but applying that term to encompass over a thousand people is incorrect and unfair. When it comes to women, many are simply "waiting for the right one." Another facet of the frat boy personality-- commonly overlooked -- is their academic achievments. It is not uncommon to see the same faces at parties during the weekend and then the next Monday in class, making profound connections and wowing others with their knowledge and intelligence. I still remember the shock that I felt when one "frat boy" that I had met a party during the weekend helped me conquer my history homework the next week in recitation. We oftentimes forget that everybody at this school, regardless of whether or not they are Greek, was admitted to Penn for one reason: because they deserve to be here academically. The "frat boys" that we so often stereotype as moronic are in actuality the valedictorians of their high school graduating classes, the Ben Franklin scholars and the leaders of many different student groups at Penn. Yes, these boys like to cut loose, but not before their 3.9 is in the bag. Foosball rules the day. Learn it, know it, play it. It's more than a game for these boys -- its an obsession. The losers receive no kind treatment, I have seen guys running around the house in their boxers after a losing a game of foosball. If you expect to live in a fraternity, you had better be good at it. I would not trade my experience on Locust Walk for anything, and I already plan on residing in the same place next summer. Because I have shared much more than a house with these "frat boys," I have shared a home.
Indeed, organizations bringing together people of similar backgrounds and goals are the backbone of Penn student life. Well over a hundred clubs and organizations exist on campus, ranging from the Asian Pacific Student Coalition to the College Democrats, from the Jewish Law Students Association to the Ultimate Frisbee Club. Students forge strong friendships through these associations and they account for a large part of social life in our community. Clubs and groups also serve as an arena where students can explore and refine their understanding of themselves and the community in which they live. A problem arises, however, when these groups become restrictive and students cease to explore beyond their immediate circle of friends and acquaintances. Too much of our student population becomes separated into smaller clusters and groups marked by racial and social homogeneity. It seems that Penn students struggle for a few semesters to find a niche, and then spend the rest of their time at University almost exclusively in that niche. It would be an overstatement to suggest that there is a conscious effort on the part of students to reject those who don't share their similarities. But what does exist is a subtle tendency or preference to associate with those who are like us. In the Penn community, it becomes relatively easy to maintain a satisfying social and academic life as well as a certain level of anonymity. As a result, many students feel little pressure or reason to extend themselves beyond one's current social, racial and cultural boundaries. The diversity of our campus should serve as one of our greatest resources, but many gain only a superficial appreciation for people of different ideals and backgrounds. We are fortunate as students to be attending one of the most eclectic campuses in the nation, if not the world. To throw away this great, and possibly once-in-a-lifetime opportunity would be a tragic loss. Not only is it in the best interests of all students to make a conscious effort to break down barriers, it should also be our responsibility and obligation to refuse the present segregated diversity and extend ourselves into a more fully integrated community. The summer offers a refreshing opportunity for students to break out of their traditional molds. With the majority of social cliques and more formal organizations temporarily defunct, many students find themselves groping to establish a sense of identity beyond their normal school year ties. Socializing by association practically comes to a halt during the summer as people interact more freely and with fewer pretensions. Fewer and fewer conversations begin with, "So what frat are you in?" or "What sport do you play?" I find it reassuring to see students slowly but surely breaking down many of the superficial barriers that prevented them from meeting or befriending certain other students during the school year. The tragedy of our largely segregrated student body may never be fully resolved. But this summer, a handful of people will extend themselves beyond their normal boundaries and perhaps establish friendships that will carry over into the school year and beyond.
Well, after the sarcastic "ha-ha" and awkwardness that followed, it dawned on me. First, women at many other schools commonly wear black pants along with their friends, sorority sisters, etc. But more importantly, I realized that most of the conventions we label as "exclusively Penn" are, in actuality, more broadly represented in society, and particularly among our peer universities. It's convenient to label Penn students as one giant mass of apathy, for instance, because we might not stage a protest against sweatshop labor. But the truth is, we really aren't all that different from everyone else. The conventional argument is some variation of the following: Because of the enormous influence of Wharton, Penn students generally have a more pre-professional attitude than those in peer schools. Therefore, they are less interested in deeper issues and instead remain apathetic. The basic flaw of this line of reasoning is that, even if it were true that, in general, Penn students are more pre-professionally minded, that doesn't necessarily mean we don't feel strongly about world events. As I prepare to enter my senior year, I feel I've been exposed to a wide range of issues and met some of the most brilliant and active minds of my generation, many of whom juggle a vast range of activities and interests. Yet throughout my time here, all I've heard is that Penn students, unlike others, only care about two things: money and themselves. True, Penn was the only Ivy League school not to have a student protest against their university licensing apparel made with sweatshop labor. I will not defend students for not taking action. But it would be a gross misperception to say that Penn students don't feel strongly about such an issue. Forums organized by such groups as the Progressive Activist Network only reinforce that. Furthermore, just last month, a student group was formed to join a national collegiate alliance dedicated to holding universities accountable for responsible investing. Penn also recently held a rally and an emergency forum on the situation in Kosovo. Different ethnic groups on campus frequently hold discussions and debates concerning cultural issues and their role on campus. Another fallacy the argument relies on, though, is that Penn is uniquely pre-professional, relative to its peers. Now granted, I cringe at the thought of my Whartonite friends making six figures right out of college and I, too have dropped resumes trying to get in on the party and find a consulting internship. I'll even come out and say it: Most Penn students want to make money. Lots of it. But is it really plausible to think that students at other Ivies don't want that as badly as we do? The truth of the matter is that while a student may choose Wharton because of its highly acclaimed business curriculum, almost everyone who enrolls in an Ivy League -- or peer -- school does so at least partly because having the name gives them a better chance of getting a good job upon graduation. Whether their eventual field be politics or software developing, law or medicine, architecture or investment banking, a major reason students work hard in high school and shell out the $30,000+ per year is have the greatest chance for success. For better or for worse, we live in a capitalist society, which is inevitably based upon maximizing economic gain. Perhaps you've seen Latrell Sprewell's new commercial, in which he purports to being the "American Dream." Sprewell, the NBA star best known for choking former coach P.J. Carlesimo when he was a member of the Golden State Warriors, was let back into the league this year after one year's suspension. Who remembers what product he's even endorsing --the message, rather, seems to be: choke your coach, show no respect, and you'll make millions. Sounds more like a nightmare. But I'd be lying if I told you I don't cheer every time Sprewell hits a big shot to bring my Knicks closer to a championship. Forgive me for being so bleak. The world we'll soon enter isn't a decaying place without morals or values. And never give up the dream of revitalizing a city, finding a cure for cancer or simply teaching impoverished kids how to read. But don't let the stigma of apathy steer you away from your goals -- or diminish the value of our University. If you think Penn's different, it is. We have access to a sprawling metropolis, a beautiful campus and a friendly, social atmosphere. And our basketball team can beat the crap out of anybody in the league.
Maybe that's because it was almost yesterday. The odds were not in my favor when I applied to transfer to Penn and Wharton for my junior year. I had almost forgotten about my candidacy; I was at peace knowing that I had done all I could to outline my case for coming here. All of that changed on May 10, 1997. My NYU friends were shocked that, in an instant, I would be leaving "the city." My high school friends, however, knew that Penn was where I wanted to be all along. · And so I made the move. I had attended the 1997 Division III Women's Final Four, which host NYU won on a last-second steal and layup. Still, being from the event town that is New York, I longed for Division I sports. I liked the tradition of Ivy League athletics and figured that if I could not play intercollegiate sports at this level, then I might as well write about it. This, my 57th and final write-up for the DP, highlights memories from three of the five sports I have covered. · My first game on the women's basketball beat was back in November '97 against St. Joseph's, a 91-45 pounding that even I could not watch. In the midst of a tough night, then-freshman forward Diana Caramanico stuck out from the crowd with some tough shots in the lane. In a post-game interview, I gave her every chance to give reasons for the sizable defeat, but Diana refused to make any excuses. With a 9-43 record in its prior two years, the team, off to an 0-2 start, gave me little reason to believe that Diana's "no excuses" approach was anything more than playerspeak. But Diana's words proved to be prophetic when the team finally played tough against a top opponent. Facing current WNBA player Allison Feaster's Harvard squad, a team that was supposed to roll over any and every Ivy opponent, the Quakers posted the biggest run I have ever personally witnessed -- coming back from 42-15 with a 30-9 sprint to end the first half. Harvard's supporters, having just traveled six hours to root for their Crimson, were stunned as Penn pumped in basket after basket. During the timeouts, it was Harvard who searched for answers, while the few Penn fans at the Palestra cheered as loud as a Harvard crowd 20 times as large. Even though the Crimson turned up the heat in the second half and beat the Quakers by 26, the mood change that had taken place during the Penn comeback was something special that could not have been foreseen. Harvard later went on to become the first No. 16 seed to defeat a No. 1 seed when it upset Stanford in the first round of the Tournament. But, for one half, David unexpectedly had an Ivy League Goliath on the ropes. · My first line in the recap of Penn football's Ivy League opener at Dartmouth talked about the possibility of Penn needing to buy new goal posts after the season. I must admit that I was more than a little concerned about making such a prediction after just one game. However, those who made the trip to an unusually humid Hanover, N.H., saw the foundation of the season built late in the fourth quarter on the Quakers' last major series, which I call Penn's version of "The Drive." With three people I knew from high school on Ivy football rosters, I had followed the League even before coming to Penn. The first thing I had learned was the importance of winning the first Ivy League game of the season. The "drive" at Hanover resembled something straight from NFL Films, from the fumble recovery that set up the last possessions to the Jim Finn power run through the right side that started the road to the Championship. In front of the typically strong opening-day Dartmouth crowd, all you could hear in the valley was the Quakers' bench cheering as the players realized that they were ready to avenge 1997's humiliating home defeat to the Big Green. The Quakers had started the type of season that I had hoped to see when I arrived at Penn. Ironically, eight weeks later I saw one of the aforementioned high school friends miss catching the final Hail Mary pass for the Crimson at Franklin Field on championship day. He won his own Ivy ring the year before and he also happened to be in attendance when Penn won its last title in 1994, watching the goal posts go down. As the fans tore the goal posts down and again headed for the Schuylkill, everything had come full circle. · Most people saw the men's basketball matchup at Princeton on March 2, whether it was at a bar with a satellite TV feed, or as one of the lucky Penn fans who made the trip to the "Jadwin Jungle." The "Jungle" didn't scare me, even though it was right behind me and the other writers on press row. The Princeton fans tried their hardest, but were little match for the Penn fans' loud chants of "N-I-T!" Yet, in the midst of the euphoria, the significance of the event really hit senior tri-captain Paul Romanczuk, who was still in disbelief as the media asked the usual set of stale questions. I was already bewildered by the magnitude of the blowout and by how quiet and empty Jadwin was when I left the place at midnight. But, what really was apparent that night was what the win meant to Romanczuk. Upon returning to campus, I made a rare trip to Smoke's. After saying hello to several people, Romanczuk offered a high-five to me. That really hit me, beyond the fact that I was in the good graces of one of the many athletes that I had written about in the last two years. Surprisingly, it was the first time that I really thought about how the people we write about also live among us. I had always tried hard, maybe too hard, to keep my distance from the people I wrote about week in and week out, just to maintain a sense of professionalism when Penn teams did not have good days. With that in mind, if there's one thing I should mention before wrapping this up, it's a thank you to all the people on all the beats I covered -- the teams I have mentioned earlier, as well as women's soccer and men's lacrosse -- who endured many of the same questions over and over again. And of course, thanks to the DP, especially DP sports, for the opportunity to cover some of the best Penn sports moments in recent memory.
"Walk Like a Man" by The Four Seasons. The Drifters' "Under the Boardwalk." The Beatles' "I Wanna Hold Your Hand." "My Girl" by the Temptations. And who can forget "Louie, Louie" by the Kingsmen? Most Saturday nights from 1962 to 1966 I played those songs and scores of others at fraternity parties. Not as a DJ, but as an electric guitar player for one of the most popular rock 'n' roll groups on campus. We called ourselves the ICBMs: Mark Busenkell played electric piano. Denny Friedman was on tenor sax. And Cro (Crozier) Fox was our Ringo-like drummer. At the chilly peak of the Cold War, we chose a name we knew would get students' attention. But our "ICBM" didn't stand for Intercontinental Ballistic Missile. We chose to think of ourselves as the Intercollegiate Beat Men, a reference to the previous decade's cool Beat Generation we all wished we could escape to. We knew only 10 or so songs really well; dozens more passably. At parties, we played the first 10 until the fraternity brothers and their dates were pretty well, um, relaxed. Then we would slip into our second-string tunes. No one ever complained. Two of our members, Mark and Cro, were Zeta Psi brothers, so we'd play at parties there at least two Saturdays a month, watching the brothers' dates disappear upstairs one by one after a few glasses of light-blue "Zeta Psi Punch" -- a six-ounce can of Welch's grape juice to each gallon of grain alcohol. But rock was not my first musical love. Or even second. So shortly after starting with the ICBMs, I began to search for other outlets for my musical tastes. One spring afternoon in 1962, I heard the sound I'd been searching for. Someone was playing a killer banjo outside in the Quad. Behind the banjo I heard a good flatpicking guitarist and the exhilarating sound of a mandolin. Bluegrass. But something was missing: an acoustic bass, the foundation of every bluegrass group. I introduced myself, and a minute later, my bass and I were jamming with the group. We quickly became The Harlan County Boys: Dave on banjo, Al on mandolin, Larry on guitar and me on bass. We got occasional work at Penn's coffee house, The Catacombs, and played outdoors to impressive crowds on warm days. But the Harlan County Boys never made it big. One of the members -- I don't remember who -- thought he knew why. "We're called the HARLAN County Boys," he said, "and I'll bet people are mis-hearing it as HARLEM County Boys. They think we're from Harlem." And since a bluegrass group from an inner city region was unheard of, he theorized, that's why we weren't getting any work. So we put our heads together and came up with a new name, one based on a well-known bluegrass region. We called ourselves the Black Mountain Boys. Duh. None of us got it. Now everyone thought we were BLACK Mountain Boys. Same problem. In the '60s, black and bluegrass didn't mix. The group never made it but we all loved the music and kept playing until key members either dropped out of Penn or graduated. Then I found Lou Palena playing the grand piano in the west wing of Houston Hall. He was a year older than me, a philosophy major and to this day one of the best amateur jazz piano players I have ever heard. Over the next few months, we added a saxophone (Denny from my rock group), a trumpet (Jamie Knox, a Penn med student) and a drummer (Barry Miller, a local high school junior). Even at his young age, Barry was a better jazz player than any of us. So we didn't hesitate in naming our group The Barry Miller Orchestra. Now THIS was a group that could go places. And against all odds -- Philadelphia being a great jazz city -- we DID go places. We became the house band of a classy nightclub, the Erie Social Club in the Northeast. People like Wayne Newton, Dee Dee Sharp and the Temptations, would come to the club with their music and after one rehearsal we'd play it during the shows. In 1996 -- the year of my 30th Penn reunion -- I had this great idea. I'd contact some of the members of my old groups and perhaps put together a mini-concert for our classmates. But letters sent out through the Alumni Office were returned "addressee unknown." The only person I found was Denny Friedman, now a Center City attorney. We vowed to get together but never did. I've continued to search for Cro Fox and Mark Busenkell, the two Zeta Psi alumni; for Barry Miller, that genius drummer; and the guys from the bluegrass group. I tracked down banjo player Dave Rapkin a few years ago -- he's a record producer in New York City -- but we never did hook up. I still hope to hear from some of the guys. Maybe you know where they are. If you do, please contact me through the DP. Who knows. You might be treated to an ICBM reunion sometime during the next millennium.