In high school a friendly rivalry had existed between Scott Garrett and me. In college, Alexander (Al) Kennedy replaced Scott. He and I were chemistry majors who shared many of our classes. For a while we were actually roommates living together in Stopher Hall with Carl Oglesby in a triple-room. However, our relationship, unlike the one I had with Scott, went beyond a mere rivalry for grades. Our interactions were, at times, more physical. In a way, we enjoyed them as “social” interactions outside of a mere battle of chemistry majors.
One significant battle occurred on a Saturday evening in my Freshman year. I was studying in my room when I heard someone calling, “Camerinooooo.” I couldn’t locate it in the corridor. Then I realized the sound was coming from the roof. It must have been just after Homecoming, because it was then that I had learned about the trapdoor to the roof we had decorated for Homecoming.
I ran down to the utility room. Sure enough, the trapdoor was open. I turned off the light and waited. The guys were annoyed because they couldn’t see to get down. Having some compassion for them, I turned on the light and went back to my room. A few minutes later I answered a knock on my door. It was Al Kennedy, Ray Tabello, and Tom Timmings. They pulled me into the hallway and tried to pants me. Tom was working on my shoe. It came off and he tossed it behind him. It arced up and broke a light-globe in the ceiling. And who should be watching from the lounge? Bill Douglas and Mark Anthony, the head resident and his assistant. They approached us. While the other three cleaned up the glass, I went to the second-floor lounge. A short time later Carl Olgesby came down. He wanted me to listen to a speech of his. I said we could go to the first-floor lounge, but he said my room would be better.
I compromised by going to his room. He had moved from my corridor to another to get away from his original roommate, Ray Tabello, an Arab student who argued politics with him 24/7. Safe in Carl’s room, I told him of the incident. When I had finished, he opened the door. In rushed Al, Ray and Tom. They left with my pants.
I borrowed Carl’s bathrobe and went to the office to get a duplicate key for my room. When I returned to it, I found its contents completely turned around. The gentlemen then decided I needed a bath and tossed me into the shower. Later when I was dry, and all had been forgiven; we straightened up the room. We then smelled popcorn and traced it up and down the halls to the first floor. We raided the room and got popcorn. With its occupant, whom none of us knew, we talked about hunting guns. We then returned to my room.
Al was taking a shower. We swiped his clothes, and I got my flash camera. He came out clad in a shower curtain which Ray and Tom removed. I got some photos. We thought everything had quieted down. But Al, waiting his moment, jumped me for the camera. There was a free-for-all in which he managed to expose the film, making it useless for future blackmail.
It had been an interesting evening. I enjoyed, it for it meant I had arrived. No one in Niles would have dared to pants me and toss me in a shower. I was very happy.
Another event began, once more, when I was studying in my room. I smelled a strong, sweet odor. A few minutes later I heard a hiss at the ventilator in my door to the hallway. Putting two and two together, I investigated. I went into Al’s room across the hall. He attacked with a spray room-deodorant. I made a hasty retreat to my room and locked the door, after stepping on Al’s foot to force him to withdraw it from the doorway. Then armed with a spray-type shaving lather, I attacked Al. A battle ensued in the corridor. Another resident in our hall opened his own door. Al and I rolled into his room. As Al sprayed deodorant into my face, I covered him with lather. The resident living where our battle was occurring separated us, but not before I had broken the rims to my glasses. And so ended another incident in the Camerino-Kennedy struggle. Looking like a latter-day Harry Potter was acceptable – another indication that I had now become a regular guy and not merely an academic wizard.