A Behind-the-Scenes View of Managing Princeton Reunions

I was writing “TFI” with orange tape across a Tiger Inn alumnus’ golf cart when a member of the Alumni Association staff pulled me aside. A quiet whisper informed me that someone had tracked a dog’s … droppings from the lawn outside Nassau Hall onto the floor of Maclean House (known colloquially as Reunions HQ). A PAW event was set to begin in the now-defiled room within minutes, and I, being the good intern that I am, took off in a sprint to find wet wipes. This is what it’s like working Princeton Reunions.

In May, I had the pleasure of serving as assistant manager for the Alumni Association’s student crew based at Reunions HQ. Working Reunions is an obvious choice for many students — great wages, a school-free week with friends, and a behind-the-scenes view of the biggest party in Central Jersey.

The job starts early for students, who are up Tuesday and Wednesday mornings to make sure each major reunion site has all the things it needs — class logbooks, campus maps, kegs of beer, you name it. These first two days are relatively tame. You still get the luxury of a 15-minute meal break, and you aren’t dodging crowds when running errands in a golf cart. As I walked back to my dorm with my manager, Katie Daniels ’26, Wednesday night, we both snarked, “Wow, this is easier than we thought!”

Then there’s Thursday morning, when a strange energy permeates the campus, as if the impending arrival of tens of thousands of alumni and guests is sending electricity through the air along Elm Drive. As I arrived at Maclean at 7 a.m., I could sense everyone was a little more on edge. From there, the next three days were a blur — part job, part party, and part manic fever dream.

Add in nights full of parties and severe sleep deprivation, and you begin to see people in the rawest, truest versions of themselves. It’s equal parts scary and beautiful.

Looking back, I remember flashes of the chaos: washing my hands after the dog poop incident as my manager was pulling her hair out, distraught about the hundreds of Class of 2025 pins that had gone missing; the helpless moments when our entire crew had been deployed to bartend overcrowded events; and when we were marooned at Maclean as all of our golf carts were either stuck in traffic on Elm or were useless because a group of children had stolen the keys.

By Friday night, things were finally starting to look up. All 983 pins had been located, and the floors of Maclean had never been cleaner. I met my manager at a table outside the 35th for a debrief, but all we could do was stare at each other and laugh in delirium. We were a case study for what 17-hour workdays could do to a person. Add in nights full of parties and severe sleep deprivation, and you begin to see people in the rawest, truest versions of themselves. It’s equal parts scary and beautiful.

The good news is that if you can make it through Saturday, you’ve pretty much made it through Reunions. Members of my crew were assigned tasks during the P-rade, from transporting the tiger mascot to delivering Gatorade to President Eisgruber. While the duties vary, they all allow you to be a part of the procession — a great perk of the job.

The best perk, however, came on Saturday night when we headed down to Princeton Stadium to work at the fireworks show. After dizzily inflating two dozen glowing beach balls with our lungs (our electric pump had burst into flames), we rushed out onto the field, punting the inflated balls into the crowd as “Sweet Caroline” blared. Sitting in the front row for the fireworks finale, we put our arms around each other, relishing the victory of a week well-worked.

On Sunday morning, staffing Reunions isn’t that different from attending it. Some of us are hungover, a few are crying, and all of us are struggling to stay awake. As we finished packing up, I began to grow emotional. Though I had to endure literal fire and dog poop, I realized that I’d probably just finished the coolest job I will ever work in my life.