Daily m Trojan
Volume LXXIII, Number J ?
University of Southern California
Los Angeles, California
Monday, February 27, 1978
Dry rush on trial:
Fraternities weigh importance of new policies and tradition
By Peter Bylsma
Knowing full well that I was a serious rushee and that I would be spending the next two years on the Row, I set out to write this story as objectively as possible.
This is my personal account as both reporter and rushee.
★	★ ★
A new policy prohibiting alcohol at fraternity rush was instituted for the first time during this semester’s rush from Feb. 6-16.
The fraternities had two main objections to the policy. They felt tradition, an important value on the Row, and in non-Row settings as well, was being abandoned.
Secondly, there was the typically cocksure feeling around the Row that the university should not dictate such a policy.
I had my experiences with that tradition last year during both spring and fall rush before the "imposed drought.”
I remember the tradition only in twisted, blurry images. Most college students, especially those around here, have similar memories of past rushes. You remember: large trash cans filled with orange juice, vodka and who knows what else; brieffiashesoftall Burger King cups, filled to overflowing capacity; people, myself included, reeling around, drooling or spilling more drinks.
The university decided to do away witn the tradition of alcohol at rush this year, at least as far as the rushees were concerned. It was an effective policy in this respect. Not only did I see less alcohol than before but also the only people doing the stumbling this year, for the most part, were fraternity members themselves.
Many fraternity brothers were worried about what they termed “spies.” In fact, they expressed this concern almost every time I brought up the subject of dry rush. I didn’t see any “spies” and neither did anyone else. With all the concern about undercover Interfraternity Council agents it’s no wonder the use of alcohol was kept very quiet.
My initial encounter with alcohol came at the Chi Phi house Feb. 8, the first “real” day of partying. At that point, I was uncertain about the new policy. One of the
Chi Phis described how most Row residents and their guests were beating the system: drinking the illegal liquids in private rooms. After he said this, we had a beer in his room.
At the Phi Sigma Kappa house, the brothers were careening around with large mugs of beer. My companion was immediately recognized and we were both given ample supplies of beer. We drank slowly as we watched a stripper perform. She had a fat, dark brown body with a large, uneven, darker brown splat on her right hip. It looked as if she had
been hit there with a small balloon filled with paint.
We left that crazy scene of unfamiliar faces and loud music as the boys began tempting her with dollar bills to perform other act£.
A new initiate showed us around the Delta Tau Delta house. He continually commented on dry rush, lamenting the drought and boasting that his house had the best parties. He felt strong and confident after the Delt Hell Week he had just completed.
As an “undercover reporter” the facade I erected around myself began to crumble. My inebriated companion told our guide that I was a journalist who would later write about what had transpired. This revelation frightened me. We began talking fast to confuse the issuer Our guide thought he was more drunk than he probably was.
As we left the Row that night, we saw a guy smash a beer bottle in the street next to the Delta Sigma Phi house. My companion and I could only wonder if that was what temperance on the Row really meant.
★	★ ★
There will be time,
There will be time to prepare a face for the faces you meet
—T.S. Eliot,
The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock
I	guess I always had the potential for this
madness, I thought to myself as I danced with women I didn’t know or would probably never meet again.
The rain was almost as big a factor in this spring’s rush as the lack of alcohol. By the ^end of the first week, the pouring rain had driven off all but the most serious rushees. After swimming to yet ayiother house, I began to wonder how serious I really was. 1 decided I teas serious.
★	* ★
At the beginning of the second week, I wondered how long the Row could keep up the drought. I thought the fraternities would be more open about ignoring the ban. But they were as careful as they had been the first week. I became aware that, in general, they would follow the policy.
People really didn’t have the enthusiasm I remembered from last year’s spring rush. They didn’t seem to care as much this time around. I’m not certain if it was because they were less drunk from alcohol or more sober from university intervention in their affairs.
A more subdued rush didn’t stop the partying. At some houses, it was so crowded, parts of girls' bodies were hanging out of the windows. The churning crowds were often behind closed front doors.
At the Sigma Alpha Epsilon house, I said the same things at the exchange that I had said there at dinner. It was as if I had not even been there three hours earlier.
By Feb. 15, it was common knowledge that alcohol could be imbibed if one wished. It was a matter of getting to know the brothers or bringing it yourself. Substitutes, like cocaine and marijuana, were also available.
The houses I visited agreed that the policy had been effective. Rushees could not agree on whether the lack of alcohol made it easier for them to evaluate the houses. Many felt that alcohol was essential to understanding a house because liquor is a part of the fraternity social life.
Others said alcohol made it harder to find out about the houses.
“It’s hard enough rushing after guys who are rushing after girls. When you bring in the fact that your head is rushing as well, things can bet blurred,” one rushee said. “Important aspects are lost.”
Another rushee said alcohol exaggerated the differences between himself and fraternity members. He said the first house he went into while drunk
was like “walking into a steambath with a three-piece suit on.”
It was only in a sober state of mind that he would even consider approaching the Sigma Alpha Epsilon house.
★	★ ★
By Feb. 16, the last day of rush, the apprehensive feeling had left the Row. It was replaced by a sense of impatient anticipation. At midnight, alcohol would again be permissible.
All the people I talked to were more than ready to “get wet” again and a lot of drinking took place before the midnight deadline.
I wasn’t able to get to the Row until later that evening. The Row had been revived by the termination of dry rush.
Fraternity brothers and new or prospective pledges were the only ones on the Row that night. They walked the streets carrying beer, a surprising change from the previous two weeks.
From my vantage point in the Chi Phi house I could observe the activity in the street below.
The Row was active all night. During the hour I sat at the window. I didn’t see any of the police cars that had frequently cruised the Row during the past few days.
This may have been the slowest rush in recent years for many houses. Most fraternity members agreed the number of sophomore, junior and senior rushees had dropped significantly.
At midnight, a toast was made at the Chi Phi house. Other toasts were probably made throughout the Row. I pledged Chi Phi and the pressure of the decision was removed. I realized I got less drunk on Thursday than the other nights I spent drinking on the Row. Alcohol was not present every night, but when it was, it flowed.
Things on the Row exploded that night.
It seems ironic the way the Row's residents celebrated their emancipation. They got more drunk than ever. Even these parties seemed to be influenced by the policy. Generally, the parties were small and in the privacy of the houses.
Alcohol will not leave the Row and the Row will not leave alcohol. Thisyear’s fall rush will be important to the Row. With more people and less rain, the policy will be put to the test.
In the end, the fraternity houses will make their own choices, no matter how strict a policy the university adopts or how many spies are sent to enforce it.
Peter Bylsma, a sophomore in journalism and philosophy,is a Daily Trojan staff writer.