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“The Present, in which the past and future are reconciled.”

4/23/2018

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It is safe to say that many people and places are many places and people that leave little impression upon us and remain emotionally flat, bereft of feeling and meaning, even forgotten. However, instinctively, by and by, we all return to places that are rich in thought and sentiment, and every time we return it feels good. These places remain fixed in our memory, and we can, of course, name them with ease, and we can clearly state the fond memories and cherished feelings we all have them in equal measure, and they stay with you through life. That is an easy declarative given; seeing the durable reality of certain places and people with life-long clarity. The force of the memory and emotion of these places is uniquely expressive, powerful, and cannot be measured, nor should they be. Thus, time-after-time, when we return to these places they unlock and speak directly to your heart with the same uncanny, innocent emotion. These memories are natural, pleasing to heart, and they are never empty of meaning. They reveal something of the durable greatness of place, and of good friends we associate with it. Somehow they imbue every aspect of your existence in ways that only you know, a treasure obtained, if you will, a treasure that speaks of fraternal respect, kindness, harmony, and joy: happiness. Many of my memories are rooted in three distinct places: Andover Newton Theological School, situated on a little knob of hill, historically called ‘Pulpit Hill,’ in Newton Centre, Massachusetts; second, the historic grounds of Southeastern Baptist Theological Seminary in Wake Forest, North Carolina; third, our richly textured fraternal home, The Castle, beside the Stillwater River. We all love what the brotherhood and The Castle has been, is, and will continue to be for the next 120 years. The particular impact and legacy of the landscape, The Castle, and all the brothers is sacred to me, as sacred as when I walked down College Avenue to visit the first time in the autumn of 1978, and that first visit provoke a second visit. Quite simply, you do not forget our Castle and out historic brotherhood. Annie Proulx’s said it best in the concluding line of  The Shipping News: “And sometimes it may be that love sometimes occurs without pain and misery.”
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I know that we can each state that our years in The Castle created a brotherly network that has crisscrossed, circulated, and sustained us in the years thereafter. That sort of deep emotional brotherly friendship and love is, simply stated, congenial, nurturing, gratifying and humbling. It is safe to say that our memories of Omega Mu will never be elusive memories. With that thought in mind and Pig Dinner only days away with brothers arriving from everywhere, laughter ricocheting in every corner of The Castle, and generational fraternity is everywhere, it is fitting to recall what a rare and exceptional experience it was for all of us to live in The Castle, and how central and permanent those fraternal years were in shaping us.
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It was an improbable gift that none of us suspected when we first arrived in Orono to start classes, and then the ancestral warmth of Omega My brothers brought each of us to the front door. That is how it continues to happen: brother-to-brother-to-brother through the generations in bringing young men into the charmed historical confines of The Castle and the warm embrace of our brotherhood, and though we are time-bound, those nostalgic memories are timeless. It is an abundant historic treasure for 120 years that defies definition because it is a long, richly textured fraternal family narrative with ever assortment of plots and subplots and denouements. It is a beautiful narrative that has meaning and significance for each of us in different and similar ways. It is safe to say that we are not devoured by regret in becoming Omega Mu Fijis.
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This brotherhood continues to be on the right course, as we have for over a hundred years, and with collective brotherly intention, power, and purpose we will continue to thrive. And, inversely, The Castle now requires the unquenchable fortitude and commitment of the knotted links of our brotherhood in order to architecturally restore our beloved Castle to its former glory. Architecturally speaking, we are the financial flying buttresses that will achieve this because there is no government program for The Castle, no community service project planned for The Castle, and certainly no other organization is planning to step in to do our work. We will preserve her and make her new again because it is sacred to all of us.

The Castle is beloved by all Omega MU brothers of all ages and generations, and it is fitting to say that those feelings for The Castle are fraternally sacred. Sacred love exists in the now, and not merely in the realm of the unknowable, unreachable, and infinite beyond of religion and theology. Empedocles wisely said the following about the nature of God and the sacred: “The nature of God is a circle of which the center is everywhere and the circumference is nowhere.” Yes, pan-en-theism again. It worth thinking over that this is exactly what has held this brotherhood together for 120 years, and though every brother grows, evolves and changes in various ways after our years in The Castle, that binding love, commitment, and respect for each other, and our brotherhood, remains.  It is the solidity of that type of well-rooted love that keeps us coming back to The House for the grace and good cheer of being with each other again. It is that type love that guided our original QTV brothers to take the headstrong risk in starting our brotherhood, and it was that type of sacrificial love when the QTV brothers allowed the chapter house to be used during the Scarlet Fever Epidemics of 1895-1899 to control the epidemic. So, too, it was that type of love that compelled our Omega Mu brothers to take the dangerous, headstrong risk and go into the White House when it was being destroyed by fire in 1924 to recover cherished fraternal items. In the immediate aftermath of the fire, it is that type of love that guided our brothers to purchase the land upon which our present Castle was built, and that stabilizing, visionary love continued when our Omega Mu brothers were present each during the construction of our present Castle. They did not miss a single day in overseeing the constructions of our beautiful home. It is that type of love, that, forever and always, guided Ted Curtis, Frank Danforth, and all the 60’s and 70’s brothers, to continue to come through the front door of The Castle to be here. It is that type of love that drives the joyful, evangelical cheerleading spirit of Jay Clement to get every single brother back for Pig Dinner each year. Moreover, it is that simple, direct vision of fraternal love drives Pilgrim to be a sustaining, guiding rudder of support for the brothers living in the house in order for them to live fraternally well, and to grow in their understanding of fraternal loyalty and fraternal responsibility. Empedocles was right: the sustaining center of love is everywhere in our brotherhood, and there is no limiting circumference to our fraternal love and commitment. Everything we do is guided by our decisive historic spirit of love and commitment to each and The Castle, and we have been victorious so far in accomplishing everything we have every set out do. Our nature is single fraternal heartedness, and that is the root of human grace. It is in the spirit of that historic love, energy, commitment, and clarity of architectural and historical intent that drives this 2019 financial drive for our architectural masterpiece: The Castle. This building, our fraternal home, carried us deeply into friendships and happiness that have been life-long. To have partaken of such a gift that was given to each is a great life reward. That is sacred. Now we know what lies ahead, another 120 years of our storied fraternal existence at the University of Maine. With the legacy of all our ancestral voices supporting us, and the guiding memory of chance and providence that led each of us to the front door of The Castle the first time seeking to become an Omega Mu brother, it is an easy choice to make to support the architectural renewal of The House. This is an instance in our fraternal history when we must imagine what future brothers will say when they walk up the driveway and into the house and see the tangible, flawlessly crafted sustained beauty of The Castle, inside and outside, in beautiful symmetry and sameness, and in turn learn that it was due to ennobling ingredients of our perseverance and determination that made it so. They will then develop life-lasting friendships, a love of fraternal life, and a self-effacing commitment to maintain those friendships and the architectural integrity of The Castle. That intergenerationally creative partnership that has always guided our Omega Mu brotherhood, and it always will guide us in the future. Fraternal love is both the source and goal of everything we do for each other and The Castle. “By our clear-eyed faith and fearless heart” we will succeed.
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With reverence and service toward the The Castle and each other, we will assure that our fraternal beliefs will continue to cultivate an appreciation for the good things that really matter in life in structure, scope, and ideal without erosion. This, after all, is why it all started. It was a conscious and carefully crafted decision for young men to live together in civic, fraternal decency on the riverscape of the Stillwater River, and our memories of The Castle and our brotherly friendships are, indeed, fruit that lasts a lifetime. That is feel cantus firmus, “The strong song,” of our proud 120 year history, and we will continue to do well in sustaining our linked Omega Mu brotherly circle for another 120 years without any fraternal hesitation or fear, guided by our time-tested, unambiguous fraternal tenacity, perseverance, and persistence. That is the generational consciousness that has always kept us moving forward into the future. We do not speak and act from a distance from our past, the present, and our future; they all matter because we cannot separate them. We play the long game, always have. Omega Mu lives on, and it will continue to live on. In closing, I am thankful for the surprising, life-long fraternal grace that greeted me when I walked through the front door of The Castle in 1978.
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Fraternally,

Chip Chapman, "82

​Perge!
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"The Voice of Many Waters”

4/23/2018

0 Comments

 
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Stories, as we all know, are the life of Omega Mu, and they keep alive our Omega Mu spirit each time we see each other, and there is nothing wrong with feeling nostalgic and then saying to yourself: “Did I really say and do these interesting things while living in the house; did all those events occur in the RAM, and did I really look like that during my years in The Castle?” And the beautiful thing is that these events did occur, and you did look like that. The Castle has graced the ground of 79 College Avenue for generations of Omega Mu brothers, and our binding stories were framed within the distinctive walls of The Castle. The stories are delightful, poignant and filled with warm memories. Your stories provide a clear, significant lens in appreciating our long history; second, they provide a broad generational spectrum of our brotherhood and our shared home. That is the power of authentic storytelling, not shallow prattle. Anyway, to be clear, please send me more of your stories. Each story helps each of us to appreciate and love, in new yet familiar ways, our Omega Mu brotherhood and The Castle. Thank you.

Fraternally,

Chip Chapman, ‘82
​
​Perge!
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First Story
1950’s

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“It was a sunny Saturday in the spring of 1954 when a few of us with dates, went to sand beach at Arcadia National Park.  As I remember, the sand was warm and we spread out some towels and had a relaxing afternoon.  We had some coolers with beer which which made it even more relaxing.  After a while someone had the idea for us to  go into the ocean.  As you probably know, in the spring, at a beach on the coast of Maine, the shore might be warm but the ocean is still very cold.  The plan was for the guys to get in a line and go into the water at the same time.  A few could hardly stand much less run into the water because of the number of beers that they had.   Well, they made it  into the water even though it was very cold.  A minute later everyone struggled back onto the beach stone sober.”

Second Story
1960’s

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​“I don’t recall what time of year the IFC sing was, but we participated in that too. Something I don’t think Phi Gam had done in ages. After a couple brief rehearsals, here’s what the performance went like. There was a pretty good sized audience in the gym with risers in front and a main a isle down the middle. Other competing greeks waited back stage for their turn. We waited in the lobby. When we were announced, we marched down the center aisle, dressed in white shirts, dark pants. We lined up on the risers with Mike in front as conductor. He raised his hands to begin, paused, and we all whipped out dark glassed and put them on. Then, in loud and not very melodic voice, we sang Country Joe’s “Vietnam Song” which I recall calling the “Vietnam Rag”. When we finished, we took off our glasses, put them in our pockets, and walked out the way we had come in. I think we got some enthusiastic cheers, but there were lots of stunned faces too. It was sweet!”

Third Story
1960’s

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​“Suddenly a flourish of brain cells seem to have kicked in and I recall a bunch of stories that will take me a while to get down in writing: stealing a real pig for Pig Dinner, how to kill a pig (no one knew), the infamous Fiji Island fire on Baker Island (1968, I think), Freak-out parties.  How we pulled ourselves together to escape from social probation under the leadership of Michael O’Leary by suddenly cleaning up our act and participating in all the goody-goody activities that were expected of a “good” fraternity:  the snow sculpture of a drunk driving accident designed by “the spook”, our artistic brother, complete with red-dyed snow representing blood, participation in the IFC sing performing “The Vietnam Song” by Country Joe and the Fish:
 
“Well come on all of you big strong men, Uncle Sam needs your help again,
he got himself in a terrible jam, way down yonder in Vietnam,
put down your books and pick up a gun, we're gunna have a whole lotta fun.
 
CHORUS
and its 1,2,3 what are we fightin' for?
don't ask me i don't give a dam, the next stop is Vietnam,
 
and its 5,6,7 open up the pearly gates. Well there ain’t no time to wonder why...WHOPEE we're all gunna die.
 
now come on wall street don't be slow, why man this's war a-go-go,
there's plenty good money to be made, supplyin' the army with the tools of the trade,
just hope and pray that when they drop the bomb, they drop it on the Vietcong.
 
CHORUS
 
now come on generals lets move fast, your big chance is here at last.
nite you go out and get those reds cuz the only good commie is one thats dead,
you know that peace can only be won, when you blow em all to kingdom come.
CHORUS
 
(spoken)- “Listen, people, I don’t know you expect to ever stop the war if you cant sing any better than that... theres about 300,000 of you fuc|ers out there.. I want you to start singing..’
 
CHORUS
 
now come on mothers throughout the land, pack your boys off to Vietnam,
come on fathers don't hesitate, send your sons off before its too late,
be the first one on your block, to have your boy come home in a box.”

Fourth Story
1960’s

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​“I was in the pledge class of 1969 and one night after the library closed we abducted Van Dyke and his girlfriend as he was walking her back to her dorm up on the hill. The plan was to keep them hidden away until morning when they would be released and we, the Zobies, would be safe from paying any penalty for the act. 
 
We first took them to a summer camp located east of Brewer where we planned to hide out for the night. Unfortunately it was a bad plan because it was January and the place wasn't insulated and we couldn't get enough heat out for the stove to warm the place up. So then we decided to head back into Brewer and rent a room at a local motel. 
 
We picked Dick Stacy's Motel located on Route 1A at the edge of town in Brewer. Everything was good. We had heat and it was the middle of the night and we hadn't been discovered yet so we all thought we had it made. The next thing you know, the door explodes into the room followed by a bunch of shouting "Zobies, get back to the house right away!" as they grabbed VD and his girlfriend and sped off. 
 
We were so stunned that we didn't realize the there were only a couple of them and 15 of us and we could have just grabbed them if we had had our wits about us. The element of surprise did us in and we paid the price for the rest of the night. It was a zoo, if you know what I mean! ‘Thank you, Sir! May I have another?’”

Fifth Story
1980’s

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​“No tale about life in the house would be complete without reminiscing about time spent in the Ram.  The Ram was one of the few spaces in the house that the general populace rarely saw or even knew about, yet it was a vital element of the overall house experience.  Remember the horror on your mother’s face as you showed your parents where you slept for that obligatory parents’ weekend tour?  “Why are the windows wide open?” “Would that ladder really work?” “Why are there no alarm clocks?” “Do boys bring girls up here?”  “It’s not really…….that clean.”  But to those of us that got to experience the privilege of spending most of our non-waking moments embraced by its exalted, dark wood partitioned, and often frigid walls, it was an experience like no other.”

Sixth Story
1980’s

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​“Fresh air.  Up until more recently, in this energy conscious/climate change fake news, were the windows in the Ram ever closed?  Does anyone recall if there were even working windows?  No matter how cold, no matter what kind of weather, it didn’t matter and I suspect all would agree it was the best sleep you ever experienced to this day.  The more blankets and sleeping bags the merrier and who washed their sheets in the year. The cold took care of any critters.  I distinctly recall Brother Wallace snoring away in the Mental Ward, directly beneath the end window, as snow blew in and built up on his slumbering carcass.”

Seventh Story
1980’s

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​“Psycho”.  Did you ever see the movie Psycho, are you a fan of movies that instill mental terror?  They had nothing on some of the pranks pulled by Brother Shaboski.  Shab rarely slept, he was too stressed out by schoolwork and a host of other mental quirks, so he’d perpetually be up into the wee hours, after we’d all retire to the Ram.  His favorite victims were Brother Hannan and Brother Emmons.  Of particular note, and his escapades were many, was when he waited patiently for hours underneath Hannan’s bed for Phil to come up and go to sleep.  Waiting even longer he then suddenly reached up from beneath the bed and grabbed Phil. Now Phil had his own late night demons so when he finally fell asleep and was grabbed, his screams of terror were enough to wake up the Zeroes next door.”

Eighth Story
1980’s

“Mysterium Tremendum”

​“The RAM is the
Territory of mystery in
Omega Mu, the place of
Fables and legendary 
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Pranks, and not the 
Light fairy-
Tales of the brothers’
Grimm. Oh
 
No. “It was
No paradise
Of innocence”
Like Grimm’s
 
Fairy Tales
Because once
You put your name on
The desired time nail
 
To be waked up in the
Morning, you had to be
Philosophically,
Emotionally, and 
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Psychologically
Alert when you
Opened the
Creaky door and felt the
 
Descending cold
Rush of air as you
Ascended, feeling the
Curious ethereal yet
 
Emotionally inert
Quality of the
Numinous realm of 
Static-un-time with
 
The guiding
Principle of
Unknowability in the
Mythological
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Black Hole
“Singularity” of
Omega Mu’s
RAM when the 
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Nocturnal tocsin of the
RAM sounded for
Simple and true
Terror and humor
 
Activities that would
Commence, with no
Program notes to prepare
The wary or unwary as to
 
What might happen on
Any given night in
Rooms filled with generational
Memory specters amidst the
 
Miscellany of broken
Furniture, RAM-
Shackled bed frames,
Mattresses, piled junk, and
 
Strewn clothes, and benefacted
Goods from previous
Generations of brothers,
Creating a brisk dynamic inter-
 
Generational commerce
Free of the dollar signs
When brothers would
Cometh to the RAM To
 
Receiveth, “Each according
To his needs” – Ah, Marx!
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Papers, books, clothes,
Sporting equipment, and a
Farrago of didactic and
Erotic literature, 
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A classic Stones album,
Sticky Fingers, a Woodstock
Ticket from a ’68 - ‘71
Brother, and a condom
 
Or two, but only
one brother was caught
Caught in flagrante
Delicto in the RAM
 
With his girlfriend,
Poor Paula.
But at night, after you
Ascended the stairs and
Opened the door and
 
Entered the woody, dusty,
Fibrous smelling
Darkness of the RAM,
Every clear-headed, no-
 
Nonsense nocturnal
Impulse was displayed by
Brothers full of complexities
And compulsions from placing
 
A dead bear in a brother’s bed in ’56
To Shab, mad craftsman and
Weaver of many RAM
Spells, putting Phil into
 
Spluttering anticipatory
Paroxysms of fear and
Trembling and years of
Psychoanalytical treatment
 
To cleanse his blighted,
Scarred subconscious
Soil of Shab to regain
Approximate human sensibility.
 
But it was the cheerful,
Unchecked verbal
Galaxy and rippling
Threads of humor of this

Mythically unique
Place because it induced
Amiably indulgent thought
And
 
Creativity in unfastened
Conversation of pure
Mysterium absurdum from
The “Mental Ward” –
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With their Mao led
All-or-nothing magical
“Fantasia” of delicately
Complex theatre-stories,
 
His fictive personae,
Of high dramatic verse of
Romantic smuttiness and
Baroque emotionalism, a
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Well-worn Mao track of
Habit, with the jesting
Echoing response of gentle-
Souled incredulous laughter
 
Of  Hicksy, Bart, Jughead,
Gar, and Rocky, echoing
Down the dusty
Corridor by the

Zobie room with their
Eyes half-closed-open,
Their onion pearl
Dangling around their
 
Neck, their tasty trademark,
Their troubles fully alive,
Waiting at the edge of their
Magical mystery,
​
Murmuring, nervously,
Wondering when
Molten-eyed brothers would
Descend upon them and hellish
 
Hopelessness would begin,
Stiffening their resolution of
Will to prevail and become
Brothers…”
Fraternally,

Chip Chapman. ‘82

​Perge!
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