Reading Chris Webber ’53’s amusing letter about falling butter pats in Commons (Inbox, July/August issue) reminded me that I may be the only living alumnus who actually witnessed Hollie Donan ’51’s bid for Commons immortality.
Hollie was one of Princeton’s greatest-ever football heroes. He led our 1950 team to an undefeated season, opening holes a mile wide for Jake McCandless and Dick Kazmaier. He also destroyed enemy quarterbacks; a true All-American.
Hollie was a waiter in Commons. I was a busboy. While biding my time, waiting for my turn to perform my post-meal duties, Hollie appeared out of the kitchen with a tray over his shoulder loaded with meat, mashed potatoes, peas, and gravy, headed for Lower Cloister. He slipped over a water slick and began to lose it as he reached the head of the stairs. With no one in sight down below, Hollie heaved his tray all the way to the far Lower Cloister hallway wall. It was a prodigious display of strength, and good sense.
It was also perhaps the loudest bang ever heard at Princeton. The young men awaiting their dinner down the hall thought they were being bombed.
Disposing of the mess was not in my job description as a busboy. But I quickly became part of the clean-up crew; all the time laughing my head off. In a very short time, the laughter spread over the University, earning Hollie Donan yet another biggest-man-on-campus accolade.
I often used the story when recruiting young athletes who said Princeton was too stuffy for their tastes. This story helped put their misgivings to rest. I think they could see themselves duplicating Hollie’s heave.
Reading Chris Webber ’53’s amusing letter about falling butter pats in Commons (Inbox, July/August issue) reminded me that I may be the only living alumnus who actually witnessed Hollie Donan ’51’s bid for Commons immortality.
Hollie was one of Princeton’s greatest-ever football heroes. He led our 1950 team to an undefeated season, opening holes a mile wide for Jake McCandless and Dick Kazmaier. He also destroyed enemy quarterbacks; a true All-American.
Hollie was a waiter in Commons. I was a busboy. While biding my time, waiting for my turn to perform my post-meal duties, Hollie appeared out of the kitchen with a tray over his shoulder loaded with meat, mashed potatoes, peas, and gravy, headed for Lower Cloister. He slipped over a water slick and began to lose it as he reached the head of the stairs. With no one in sight down below, Hollie heaved his tray all the way to the far Lower Cloister hallway wall. It was a prodigious display of strength, and good sense.
It was also perhaps the loudest bang ever heard at Princeton. The young men awaiting their dinner down the hall thought they were being bombed.
Disposing of the mess was not in my job description as a busboy. But I quickly became part of the clean-up crew; all the time laughing my head off. In a very short time, the laughter spread over the University, earning Hollie Donan yet another biggest-man-on-campus accolade.
I often used the story when recruiting young athletes who said Princeton was too stuffy for their tastes. This story helped put their misgivings to rest. I think they could see themselves duplicating Hollie’s heave.