I graduated from Texas A&M University. Yes, I’m an Aggie. But not just any Aggie. I grew up in College Station as the son of a Junction Boy. I used to play with the son of Earl Rudder, the college president and a legend in Aggieland. You can’t get much more Aggie than that. As such, I am well steeped in Aggie lore. One such example has to do with a tradition that, as rare as such a thing is, died out: coeds being bussed in from TWU to attend grand balls thrown in their honor.
I ran across an article about this the other day and it reminded me of a funny story my mother used to tell. The story occurred in the mid-80s while she was working for the university. Allow me to share it here to the best of my recall.
While on her way to lunch atop Rudder Tower, she found herself awaiting the elevator with an elderly woman accompanied by a middle aged lady. From the conversation my mother overheard while they were waiting, it became apparent that they were the mother and grandmother of a coed visiting from out of town and that both of them were married to Aggies themselves.
Before the elevator arrived, the three of them were joined by a very large, black cadet. The elderly woman appeared to take great interest in the new arrival, looking him over from head to toe.
After noticing his senior boots, she turned to him and said, “Oh… You must be a senior in the corp, young man.”
“Yes, maam.”, he replied politely.
After a brief, somewhat awkward pause, she spoke again. “My husband was in the corp back in the 30’s.”
The cadet smiled and said, “Is that so?”
“Yes,” she continued. “But there weren’t any blacks on campus back then.”
The cadet looked a bit shocked and uncomfortable as the daughter turned to her mother with a look of complete mortification and ground out “Mother!” from between clenched teeth. She turned to the cadet in full blush and said, “I am SO sorry.”
In true gallant fashion, the cadet recovered his composure and said, “It’s quite alright ma’am. Your mother is right. There probably weren’t any blacks on campus back then.”
The awkward silence that followed was mercifully ended by the arrival of the elevator. Conversation ceased while the party boarded. The only floor selected was the top floor, the site of the restaurant. Just as the doors were closing, the elderly woman, whom had obviously been lost in thought reminiscing about the Aggieland of her youth, spoke up again, turning to the cadet, perhaps hoping to show she had meant no harm in her previous statement.
“I hardly recognize the campus nowadays. I met my husband while he was a student here. They would bus us in from TWU, where I was a student. Oh, I used to love to visit. All those handsome young cadets.”
She paused while the cadet nodded and smiled. All would have been well had she simply stopped there. But, unfortunately for her horrified daughter, she asked, in a voice aquiver with the excitement of her past fond memories, “Tell me, do you boys still have big balls here like they used to?”
The only saving grace was that the elevator had arrived and the doors opened right as this question was posed. Without hesitation, the daughter grabbed her mother by the arm and broke for the door, only uttering a hasty “Oh my god. I am so, SO sorry.”
My mother knew the real meaning of the question, but we will never know what that poor cadet was thinking.