Guest post from a good friend.
“It was my Freshman year (1965), we hadn’t won the bell since 1955, and then, miracle of miracles, the Bell gets swiped by an enterprising Wally from a characteristically stupid Dannie: President Kerbsetter (as we called him), winner of the No-Bell Prize. It’s such a great story, and was an irreplaceably fabulous moment for us Rhynes, as we were then called. Nothing in my Wabash experience, not even the great 7-0 game in 67, galvanized the student body the way the heist did. I’m sorry only that I didn’t save my sombrero. The story’s been told endlessly, of course, and deservedly. The point really is that some moments crystallize whole experiences. There’s a rhetorical word for that, but I can’t come up with it easily. Whatever. In that one experience you have, for me at least, the spirit, camaraderie and ingenuity that was and is the Wabash experience… This uniquely “loyal son” has and will “always love” the Old Place.
WAF—-Just as I was to send this, the old gray cells fired, the synapses connected: synecdoche. That’s the word I wanted. There ain’t many Dannies who know that word, I’ll wager.”