By Simon Boes
Fall Party is the superior of Sewanee’s seasonal soirées. It is a time of gleeful homecoming, jolly friendship, and hearty debauchery. Most students, having just finished a week of extensive schoolwork, engage in all of the events on campus. Notable performers – dare I say legends (Afroman and Coolio) have come to Sewanee to entertain our student body during this weekend of wonder. I can honestly say I would not have seen these performers live if they did not come to campus. Seeing old friends come back to campus is also an important part of the weekend. It is always intriguing to see where life has taken the graduates of Sewanee, and having them back on the Domain is wonderful. To emphasize my love of Fall Party, the rest of this article will be a poem in rhyming couplets:
There never was a party more marvelous than Fall
A sense of jubilation, exaltation, and commemoration is what we install
As the trees change shape and leaves fall gently
Look around at your peers; look and listen intently
We, us, the students at this institution
Have written the words Fall Party into our college constitution
Whether this weekend means relaxing, hydrating, or simply reflecting
Whatever your perception or impression
Think fondly of your situation on the Domain
For not much longer here we can remain.
Listen to the stories of professors and graduates and enjoy
Sewanee and how it is supremely miraculous.
By Tess Steele
“During Spring Party my shirt was unbuttoned for the entire evening. Magic like that can’t happen during Fall Party. It just can’t,” recalled the lovely Charlie Pappas (C’18) on the experience of Spring Party, affectionately referred to as “Sparty.” One would be hard pressed to find a Sewanee student who, having experienced both Fall Party and Spring Party, would prefer the dreary, grey disappointment of Fall Party over the highly anticipated and eternally promising joy of Spring Party. Fall Party, unattractively abbreviated to “Farty,” is the redheaded stepchild of the Sewanee party weekends, and offends the very institution of college partying. It rolls around at the time of the year when freshmen feel homesick, and the chaos of the weekend easily overwhelms them. Older students, jaded from the long semester, must endure another Farty with expectations that far exceed anything the bleak weekend can contrive. Students reluctantly put on coats and boots to protect themselves from the chilly temperatures. The sun vanishes before 5 p.m., cloaking the crowds in darkness. Alumni add to the ever maddening masses, swarming to catch a glimpse of a washed up performer from the early 1990s.
Farty is nothing more than a sad attempt at uplifting the perpetually deteriorating spirits of students as finals approach and temperatures drop. Upon Sparty’s arrival, summer break is just around the corner. Jorts are seasonally acceptable again. The outdoors are welcoming, providing much needed relief from cramped Greek houses. Seniors seize Sparty as one of the last opportunities to celebrate on the Mountain, and freshmen finally navigate the Sewanee social scene with success. Students from abroad return, adding to the celebrations. There are crawfish boils galore. The sun shines practically all day, extending the opportunities for shenanigans. Students enjoy concerts sans coats, sans Sewanee Plague, and sans confused alumni. Koozies serve to keep beverages cold, not merely to shield shivering hands from a can’s cold condensation. All is right on the Domain. The one thing we can be grateful for about Farty is that the weekend makes Sparty all the more magnificent in comparison. “Spring is nature’s way of saying, ‘Let’s party!’” expressed the late Robin Williams, and I find myself in wholehearted agreement.