Originally posted on CampusAttic.com on December 4th, 2013
The Oregon O atop Skinner’s Butte. (courtesy: 1911 Oregana yearbook – UO Library Special Collections) |
For
over a century, a University of Oregon ‘O’ has sat atop Skinner’s Butte,
overlooking Eugene like the eye of Sauron keeping a watchful gaze over Middle
Earth. The symbol has endured a vast history of attacks, fires, explosions, and
even theft; yet through multiple versions the symbol of the University of
Oregon has survived — an odd and fascinating history of UO tradition and
perseverance.
In
1908, three years after the old University of Oregon astronomical observatory
atop Skinner’s Butte had been blown up in the middle of the night one evening
by a UO faculty member (the third oldest building in the university’s history,
it had long outlived its usefulness), it was decided that a permanent structure
symbolizing the university should be placed near the site of the old
observatory. A giant concrete O, measuring over 50 feet in length, visible to
the entire city of Eugene below, was to be constructed, financed by the Eugene
Commercial Club.
THE O’S INCEPTION
It
began with the very first Junior Weekend at the UO, a spring tradition
expanding on the University Day concept that had been established by the school
administration a couple years earlier as a replacement for the often violent
impromptu “king-of-the-mountain” student competitions on the Deady Hall roof
and spires, which would have inevitably at some point led to tragic falling
deaths had the practice continued. For University Day, students would be
excused from class to instead help beautify campus, cleaning the landscape and
constructing improvements such as sidewalks to replace the muddy wood planks
along the path between Friendly Hall dormitories and Deady and Villard Hall.
For Junior Weekend, the University Day festivities were combined with other
events, such as the Canoe Fete, Junior Prom, a school-wide picnic, and Mom’s
Weekend.
Construction
of the large 50-foot concrete Oregon “O” would only take a single day to
complete, May 22nd, 1908, overlooking Willamette Street southward towards
downtown Eugene. Trees had only recently been planted on Skinner’s Butte,
barely saplings at the time, so the practically bald hill made for the perfect
setting to proudly display the university’s symbol for all to see.
Over
the years the O would become a centerpiece of Oregon traditions, despite being
a ways away from campus property. Freshmen would guard the O to prevent vandals
from changing its color after adding their classes’ fresh coat of yellow paint
to start each school year. Homecoming bonfires and celebrations would take
place on the summit of the butte, with the O often set aflame the night before
homecoming games while the noise parade wound its way throughout Eugene streets
to raise school spirit before the big game.
THE FIRST ‘O’ COMES
UNDER ATTACK
Originally
the O was left unpainted, but by 1910 the symbol of the university shimmered
with a bright yellow overcoat. Shortly after, the first attempt to defile it
occurred. Surprisingly it wasn’t Oregon State students, the usual suspects in
the years to come when it came to assaults on the O. The Cal baseball team the
night before a game at the University of Oregon in 1910 decided to alter the
symbol, blocking out one side of the O to create a giant ‘C’ overlooking Eugene
for the day of the game.
It
didn’t take long thereafter for the idea of defiling the O to spread to
Corvallis, and the symbol quickly began receiving unplanned new orange paint
jobs. Well over 200 times to date has the O been painted and repainted,
switching back and forth from orange to yellow. It soon became the job of
freshmen to guard the O all night from Oregon State vandals during homecoming
and before the annual Civil War football game, but even that practice often
failed to prevent the O from turning orange by daylight.
Simply
guarding it wasn’t the only tradition that evolved over time, “Painting the O”
became one of the key rites of passage for all freshmen to endure. Starting in
1912 freshmen, clad in their required green beanies and green pants, were taken
to Skinner’s Butte to give the O a fresh coat of yellow paint. Brushes were
brought, but barely used, for the preferred upperclassmen torture method of
painting for the frosh was to slide down the O by the seat of their pants.
By
1929, with their repeated attempts to simply paint the O orange deemed
insufficient to stick it to the Webfoots proper, Oregon State students got a
bit more adventurous in their attempts, utilizing dynamite to try to
permanently destroy the O. November 11th, 1929, a late-night blast shook the
hillside so much that a 25 pound chunk of the O went flying through the roof of
a building near the butte. Yet despite a few pieces missing, the O endured. It
wouldn’t be the only time explosives were attempted.
The
1937 Civil War game got particularly testy, with Oregon State students storming
the Hayward Field turf (which they had vandalized by burning OSC into the brand
new sod a day before the game), attempting to tear down the goalposts on the
north end while the game’s final minute still ticked away near the south
endzone. They were eventually successful in their efforts of bringing down
Hayward’s north goalpost after an extensive brawl on the field, and paraded it
down 13th Ave, all the while being pelted by water balloons and rotting food
from angry Duck fans. Two days later, feeling the need to rub in the victory
further, thousands of students from Corvallis drove back down to Eugene to
parade around campus antagonizing UO students.
Oregon State vandals damaging the Hayward Field turf was just the start of the hi-jinx for the 1937 Civil War. (courtesy: 1938 Oregana yeabook – UO Library Special Collections) |
While
most of the marauding instigators got a friendly police escort out of town,
those that stayed through lunch soon found themselves barricaded inside a
downtown diner surrounded by thousands of UO students seeking vengeance. Cars
were overturned, property damaged, and eventually all rampaging Oregon State
invaders were captured and tossed into the Millrace. After their dunk in the
river, they were dragged to the top of Skinner’s Butte, where many had their
heads shaved and were forced to paint the O in the freshmen tradition. Soaking
wet, bald, clothing tattered, covered in yellow paint, and beaten blue, it was
only then that police stepped in to kick the invaders out of town.
Three
years later it was UCLA attacking Oregon’s O. During homecoming it was first
painted yellow on Thursday per tradition, then black on Friday by UCLA fans,
and by Sunday had four bright colors: black, yellow, blue, and brown. Chipping
away the rainbow paint scheme, a layer of tar was actually found on the old O,
yet one more attempt to defile and destroy it.
Students paint the Oregon ‘O’ in 1937. (courtesy: 1938 Oregana Yearbook – UO Library Special Collections) |
In
1947 several Oregon State students found themselves in jail for vandalism,
mistaking police aerials on top of Skinner’s Butte as wires setup by UO students
that they chose to promptly cut. With the butte’s prominent location in the
heart of Eugene it was the common choice for radio and TV antennas, and the
police fully utilized its strategic location as well…much to the chagrin of a
couple of dumb Beavers caught trying to prank Oregon.
The
dynamite route was attempted again on June 7th, 1952, when an explosion at 4 am
rocked Eugene and campus, just moments after an airplane had loudly passed
overhead. The combination of aircraft noises and an explosion led to police
being inundated with emergency phone calls from frightened citizens thinking
the city was being bombed by Russian aircraft, nuclear war inevitably just
moments away (remember, this was in the early days of the Cold War).
Police
were delayed in their response to figuring out what had just happened, because
the large amount of dynamite that OSU students had placed around Oregon’s O had
done only partial damage to the concrete structure, but had once again ruined
police radios. The Corvallis criminals had tapped into the wires on a meter of
the police’s radio transmitter shack for power, overloading all transmitters
upon detonation, making police scanners useless. An entire box of dynamite had
been utilized for the explosion, with chunks of concrete sent flying as far
away as 4th & Willamette, blowing away one side of the structure.
It
took nearly a year for repairs to be made to Oregon’s iconic hillside
adornment, and nearly as soon as it had been fully restored did the malcontent
Corvallis contingent blow it up once more. May 15th, 1953, one week after the
finishing touches on the O’s overhaul had been completed, yet another early
morning boom sent chunks skyward. This event was nearly twice the amount of
explosives used in the previous year’s attempt, but only some of the dynamite
went off as planned. Police discovered more than enough unexploded ordinance
placed strategically around the O in the aftermath to have permanently turned
it to dust and blown away half the Skinner’s Butte hillside, but once again
despite being bloodied, the O survived.
At
this point the local community was sick and tired of late night explosions, and
a petition started by a local citizen who had dealt with broken windows from
the ‘52 blast and roof damage from the ‘53 attempt resulted in the Eugene
Public Safety Committee taking up the issue of the ‘O’ continued status on
Skinner’s Butte. Oren King, the Eugene City Manager, stated in the public
record, “We don’t want the ‘O’ obliterated but we must face the realistic
problem of pacifying the citizenry.”
A NEW O IS CREATED
Something
had to be done…citizens were tired of the late-night explosions from Beaver
brethren, students were tired of guarding and repairing the O, and after nearly
50 years of paint and explosive assaults it was definitely showing its age. An
alternative was implemented by students, when a 20×40 wooden O was created
several feet from the original concrete one.
Rather than keep two O’s on Skinner’s Butte, the venerable old Oregon
symbol that would not succumb to OSU explosives finally saw its unceremonious
end at the hands of jackhammers wielded by UO students.
The
new wooden O created an all new problem, at least for the freshmen. While
painting the O in the traditional manner continued, it came with all new
hazards, as the practice of sliding usually resulted in painful splinters
resulting in a look more akin to the after-effects of being attacked by an
angry porcupine that had been painted yellow.
While
it was deemed the new wooden O to be explosive proof, OSU students still put
that to the test, as Oregon’s “dynamite proof O” survived yet another rather
feeble attempt attempt at its destruction. Fires were also set on several
occasions, the constant barrage of Oregon State attacks continuing but proving
futile on Oregon’s new Beaver-proof O.
After
decades of attempts to paint and/or blow up the O, the brash folks of Corvallis
had finally had enough too. If they couldn’t destroy the symbol of the
University of Oregon, they would simply steal it. On October 30th, 1957, the
city of Eugene awoke to find that for the first time in nearly 50 years there
was no O on the butte. The previous night it had simply been dismantled and
carried away.
Oct. 30th, 1957 Register Guard headline warned the missing O could end up kindling for OSU’s homecoming bonfire. |
The
following day Oregon State’s Dean of Men, Dan Poling, confirmed that the O had
indeed taken up new residence in Corvallis, sending a formal proposal to the
University of Oregon to instead turn the wooden O into a trophy-like revolving
property. Whichever school won the annual Civil War game would retain ownership
of the O for a year, with it being painted in the appropriate school’s color.
In
retaliation, the UO student body firmly denied the request, and instead took
matters into their own hands, stooping to Oregon State levels. During Oregon
State’s homecoming parade shortly thereafter, several members of UO’s Theta Xi
fraternity traveled to Corvallis posing as reporters. They approached the
homecoming queen and royal court asking for a photograph and interview, then
promptly escorted the women to a vehicle, kidnapping them and holding them
(unharmed of course) overnight at a nearby parent’s house.
A ransom note was received by OSU student body president Dick Seideman, demanding
that he ride to the corner of 13th & University on the UO campus on a kid’s
scooter and make a public appeal for the return of the homecoming queen after
promising the return of Oregon’s O.
The Homecoming Queen and royal court were returned unharmed the following day,
without OSU’s student body president having to ride a child’s scooter to
Eugene. The O would also be returned several days later. It had been chopped
into four pieces, and was promptly burned by UO students, deemed as being
permanently “contaminated” during its stay in Corvallis.
The
1957 homecoming kidnapping wasn’t the only time Oregon exacted its revenge on
the rivals to the north. In 1940, following Oregon’s victory in Corvallis in
the Civil War, a postgame celebratory dance was being held inside Mac Court
while awaiting arrival of the team to return. Shortly after the team arrived,
so too did some Beta Theta Pi fraternity members, carrying with them one of the
Oregon State goal posts, which they paraded around McArthur Court for all to
see.
The
next day more UO students returned to Oregon State attempting to finish the job
by removing OSU’s other goalpost, but were caught in the act. One unfortunate
member of the captured Oregon students had their head shaved and was marched
through the streets of Corvallis wearing a large sign that read “I’M A DUMB
DUCK.”
NEW PERMANENT O
STANDS THE TEST OF TIME
Enough
was enough. Enough of the explosions, the paint attacks, the fires, and
outright theft of the Oregon O. For the remainder of 1957 and early 1958 there
would be no ‘O’, the last one being burned by UO students following its
unwelcome temporary capture. Working with the Eugene City Council, the
University of Oregon had a new steel O constructed.
Dedicated
on May 17th, 1958, this O was placed further down the hill, below where a large
lighted cross also stood atop Skinner’s Butte for over 50 years. With the trees
growing higher on the hill, this O was far less visible to the community, and
therefore it was hoped far less susceptible to Beaver attack.
Weighing
approximately one ton of solid sheeted steel, the new 20×30 ‘O’ was welded into
place on top of reinforced concrete braces, elevating the O several feet above
the ground waist-height to deter any further attempts at unplanned dynamite
demolitions. Oddly enough, the primer coat for this O was a bright orange hue,
which shined over Eugene for several days before a final yellow coat was added.
The
traditions continued, at least for a little while. The freshmen would paint the
O, but the elevated steel O made it rather dangerous to slide and so the
traditional manner of painting soon died out to brushes. The O would be guarded
around homecoming and civil war week but with its far less prominent location
this was soon abandoned, as the O was out of sight and out of mind of would-be
rampaging Oregon State vandals.
Over
time the O was simply forgotten, now completely obscured from view to the city
by trees. The traditions surrounding the O have also been lost to time.
Students don’t protect or paint it aside from the occasional graffiti tag, most
students probably don’t even know of the O’s existence.
There are no late night explosions, and it has been years since it was painted
orange by unruly OSU boosters, and dragging away the steel ton structure welded
to embedded concrete anchors along a steep hillside is a nearly impossible
feat.
While
other hillside symbols of universities remain under constant threat of attack
from rivals (last year Oregon fans even painted Arizona State’s A
the night before a game in Tempe), Oregon’s O enjoys a quiet retirement, still
visible for those intrepid enough to dare the precarious hike from the top of
Skinner’s Butte down to the elevated steel structure, but mostly forgotten by
the community and university it continues to represent.
For
over 50 years the steel O has stood, and over 100 years and counting Skinner’s
Butte remains a landmark in the center of Eugene adorned with the University of
Oregon’s proud logo, despite the best efforts of rivals to strike at the heart
of the Oregon Ducks.
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