Russell Sage College and The Interfraternity Council at RPI deserve praise. This past Grand Marshal Week, they hosted the first and finest college-targeted Easter egg hunt in downtown Troy. The communication between Sage and RPI representatives and the effort put forth by volunteers were extraordinary. They handled the detail and communication management with downtown businesses well and prevented a logistical nightmare. The event was a rousing success. It united two colleges and a city’s inhabitants in a way reminiscent of an earlier age.
College-community interactions were not uncommon in RPI’s days of yore, and archive diving provides many stories. One example was a pillar of the RPI experience, an activity both honored and feared. It came from a long line of events known as rushes—competitions between classes for control of symbolic objects or locations. This particular rush was for a flag.
The Flag Rush worked something like this: The freshmen made a flag and then hid it. Once hidden, the flag’s existence was announced, and the sophomores had 24 hours to find and gain control of it. The class in possession of the flag at the end of the day won. The sophomores were allowed any means of procurement. This all took place within three miles of the Carnegie building, in or outside of Troy.
One of the worst, or possibly greatest, rushes to take place on campus was the infamous “Main Building Banister Busting” of 1883. Freshmen placed their flag atop the Main Building; when the sophomores spotted it, the fun began. The local newspaper described it as, “… a bloody battle ... between more than 130 men. The banisters were broken, and injuries were suffered, but the sophomores finally got the flag and marched through the streets of Troy with fife and drum corps.”
Other locations were used and other injuries and near-fatalities were suffered. A sophomore almost drowned and was hospitalized after attempting to take the gatehouse of the Watervliet Reservoir in 1914. Student-piloted crafts frequently jammed the Hudson in aquatic confrontations. In 1904, freshmen flew their flag from a tugboat, repelling boarders. In the late 1910s, they defended an island mid-river. These actions, as reckless as they were, endangered only those who participated. This was not so for the Rush of 1889.
It was perhaps the most daring rush that took place. During a performance at the Griswold Opera House, a young girl walked across the stage. In her hands was the freshmen’s flag. Sophomore audience members erupted. The freshmen spent the remainder of the performance fighting off sophomores and protecting the stage. There is no record of the fate of the little girl.
Some aspects of RPI’s incredible heritage are better left in the past, but some deserve a new place in the spotlight. Those who brought about the Easter egg hunt took the strong, positive aspects and built an excellent event. Alumni of the ages would be proud.
Editor’s Note: “Rensselaer Revisited” is a column granted to Benjamin Scheiner by the Editorial Board to inform the campus community of the history behind Rensselaer Polytechnic Institute.
