Crimson Building Gets Facelift, Loses `Gritty Newsroom' Feel

The narrow brick building on 14 Plympton St., which houses The Harvard Crimson, has seen everything from a vodka-sipping cat to bathroom graffiti wars--and even the occasional newspaper being published.

According to many former Crimson editors, the dust of ages, as well as a certain alcoholic feline, gave the building a distinctive character before 1991, when the building underwent its first major renovations in its 83-year history.

"[The old building] was a dump, but it was a grand dump," says Julian E. Barnes '93, Crimson president in 1992.

According to Joseph R. Palmore '91 and other pre-renovation Crimson editors, limited technology was among the most serious problems with the "endearingly decrepit" old building.

Former Crimson President Jonathan S. Cohn '91 recalls all too well the problems editors faced with the old computers.

"I remember very vividly sitting with my back on the floor, under the computer, with the speaker phone connected to tech support as they tried to talk me through a rescue on a hard drive that had overheated," he says.

"To make it work, as I recall," he continues, "I had to blow on it really hard."

Cramped spaces and malfunctioning computers went with the territory in the old building, but there was a tradeoff.

"Some people my year felt like the paper lost some of its character [after the renovations]," says Maggie S. Tucker '93, co-managing editor in 1992.

She recalls a shouting match two editors once had over a 90-inch feature on Cambridge elections.

At the argument's climax, the senior editor threw a hot cup of coffee at the junior editor; luckily, the cup of coffee just missed the junior editor's head and landed on the keyboard instead.

"I just can't imagine that happening at the modern-day Crimson," she says.

The women's bathroom was one piece of Crimson history that was lost with the new and modernized building.

Covered with empowering graffiti, it would periodically be painted over, only to be covered again in empowering graffiti. (See Diversity, page 5)

Legendary Crimson characters also seemed to dwindle after the renovation.

Bogart, an old orange tomcat that lived in the building, died in 1990.

According to Barnes, Bogart was fed too much food. Rumors were rampant that he was also fed a little too much vodka.

Another fixture at 14 Plympton St. was George, a homeless man who, according to Tucker, used to spend the winters sleeping in the building and, according to legend, was an ex-stockbroker with a daughter at Stanford.

"He was a Harvard hanger-on in general," says Tucker, continuing with a famous tale about George. One year, he attended a law firm's recruitment session at the Law School, raising his hand during the question-and-answer period to ask, "How big are the offices at your firm?"

But after following a female camper to Logan Airport on the T, George became a persona non grata at The Crimson, Tucker says. Soon after, he was banned from the University Lutheran Church homeless shelter after pushing a director down the stairs.

"[With the new building], it seemed like we suddenly had fewer outrageous eccentrics, less high drama," Tucker says.

The Money Rolls In

But the prospect of building renovations had not always been a sure thing.

Cohn says the idea of a new building had been discussed for several years, but was something of a "pipe dream" because of lack of funds.

But in the mid-1980s, The Crimson launched a capital campaign and began accumulating the much-needed funding.

Citing infrastructure problems, security concerns and a need for modernization and increased space, Crimson editors and alumni began a second campaign in 1988, in hopes of raising $2.5 million.

The Harvard Crimson Campaign was headed by Robert W. Decherd '73 and Donald E. Graham '66.

Editors and executives called Crimson alumni to discuss current efforts at the paper, the need for renovations and to solicit funds, says Rebecca L. Walkowitz '92, Crimson president in 1991. Walkowitz also gave tours of the building under construction to potential donors.

The campaign was successful, reaching its $2.5 million goal. "It's been an extraordinary show of alumni support for an organization that people have enormous affection for," said Crimson Trustee George S. Abrams '54 in 1992.

Living With Change

During the construction of the new building, staff members used a temporary space next to the Bow and Arrow Pub on Bow Street, rented from the Harvard Cooperative Society.

The space was "low-budget" and "makeshift," according to Walkowitz.

Nevertheless, Walkowitz says reporters and editors continued publishing a quality paper, including coverage of the Harvard presidential search and the scoop that Neil L. Rudenstine would be named president.

The paper, usually published in the basement of 14 Plympton St., had to be printed out-of-house at Charles River Publishing.

Reporters and editors had to "adhere to a tight new system of deadlines in order to close out the paper by 12:45 each night," according to a May 1991 article.

"The move itself was a little rough--mostly because we had to pack up about 75 years of accumulated junk," said then-president Walkowitz in a 1991 interview. "But we've managed to adapt pretty well since January."

However, the article said, problems with the temporary quarters included its lack of any restrooms and its resemblance to a warehouse.

"It's not pretty, but it's serviceable," the article continued.

Moving Home

Happily, the staff moved back into the renovated building in September 1991, after just one term and a summer out of it.

Changes in the new building included larger newsroom and business areas, more capacity for computers and updated technology, modernized photography facilities and handicapped access.

Despite the better spaces and facilities, the new building "definitely lost some of its gritty, real-newsroom atmosphere," Tucker says.

Yet business as usual continued. Under the supervision of Design Editor Dante E.A. Ramos Jr. '93, the now-computerized design facilities gave the paper a modern look with new fonts and a new layout.

The new building also saw updated photography editing equipment and computerization of the business office.

Rental Woes

The practice of renting out the top floor and roof of 14 Plympton for student parties stopped in 1992.

During the production of the 1992 election issue, a student group had rented the space for a party, Barnes says.

While they were dancing, the newsroom ceiling shook and the upstairs toilet overflowed on top of the computer that received stories from the Associated Press.

After that, Barnes says, he felt the space should not be rented for parties any more. But the business board continued to rent out the space. Barnes would then call the renters and "disinvite them."

"Renting out the space for parties was a suit waiting to happen," he says.

The building included other sources of income. The architects had built adjoining offices to be rented out "as a good source of revenue for the building endowment," Barnes says.

The graduate board chose the English Language Center as a tenant for the upstairs rental space in the spring of 1997.

The 1991 renovation of the building added space and technological changes not possible with the old building. Yet some features of the old building, like the graffiti-covered women's bathroom, were not duplicated in the new.

"It's hard to say [if the new building lost character]," Walkowitz says, "since much of the `character' had to do with what we put in the space, how we operate there, and much of that didn't change, it just became easier--[we had] a bigger room to hold dummy meetings, but the dummy meetings still happened."

Yet Barnes says something was lost in the renovations.

"In the end, the new [building] is better--much more space, more desks, more offices, fewer safety hazards," he says. "It certainly enables a better paper to be put out. But certainly anyone who denies a little something was lost is being foolish.