For almost a century, rumors have circulated around each worn-out wall, broken drawer, and leaking bathroom. They cry the same name—Wheeler! Dungeons!
There has always been a sign that bans student entrance to a section of the Wheeler basement beyond the laundry room, and they say it is there that a monster dwells. In the shadows, its eyes are two yellow glows. It breathes fire at the slightest annoyance…Only now has our investigation team finally reached a decisive discovery: the rumor is true. Furthermore, we have found that house parents are all afraid of angering this huge fire hazard, so they comply with its demands and bring it the treasure it desires. As the monster grows more and more greedy, our boarding community is left impoverished.
Kneme Kramp ’1923, one of the first students of Concord Academy and key witness to this history, remembers the initial days of discovering the monster. “We were all given embroidered handkerchiefs in case of a sudden attack. They told us if we covered our eyes with the handkerchief, the monster would no longer exist. And they said if we couldn’t grab the handkerchief in time, we could simply close our eyes. With that thought we put ourselves to sleep every day. No one knew what we were facing. That fear was grotesque…it was like your heart was dangling on a spaghetti strap,” she said, closing her eyes in disturbing recollection. An anonymous student from the class of 1954 recalls, “There was a name for the monster that upperclassmen passed down to us—Dresden. Handsome name, isn’t it? I’ve always wondered why they call it that.”
Director of Boarding Life from the late 1960s, Einna Yeliab, informs us that the monster only accepts cheap plastic crystal, feathers, or other shiny, phony things as tributes. “Every year, over two thirds of our boarding expenditure was used on buying those trinkets. The house parents would need to haul bags of worthless stuff to the basement,” she says. “I don’t know if the situation has improved now, but back in the most difficult years, [the cost] meant we didn’t have money to repair a broken roof, and it was so cold in winter.”
Evidently, the situation has not improved now. Certain laundry machines have not been fixed for months or even years. Students also complain of paying skyrocketing tuition only to come and find moldy shower curtains. These are all signs that the possessive monster continues to devour much of our boarding community’s financial capacities. Moreover, one can say the situation has declined: it is a chilling revelation that none of the students today know of the monster. Who has kept the truth away, and for what reason?
Yeliab also revealed that the monster issue contributed to the school’s decision to go co-ed in 1971, as some community members shared the idea that we needed more than girls to dampen the monster’s increasing aggression. Apparently that didn’t work out. Now who can we call upon to chase out the monster—the Greed?