Fifteen Minutes: Harvard Parking Uncovered

Porcellian president Paul K. Nitze '00 evaded the lottery process for parking. And just because he has a brand new, shiny car. Or, so the story goes.

However, according to the University Parking Services, that's not really how it all works. Manager Ron Whittingham vehemently believes that "the lottery system is truly a lottery system." Coming to Harvard with daddy's SUV and finding a place to park, is no easy feat--if you play by the rules.

The parking lottery system provides students with an available spot according to where they live and their location preference. But nothing is 100 percent. Along with air conditioning, cable TV and a kitchen, DeWolfe residents also get first choice on parking spots right below their apartments. Everyone else? It's the B-school-or sometimes nothing at all.

The parking lottery offers a choice between lots at the Business School, Peabody Terrace, DeWolfe, or 29 Garden St. Even after stating their preference, most road warriors automatically receive a plum assignment--across the River.

Harvard students do not take well to being parking-spot-less, or even worse, an exile across the Charles. And Whittingham hears no end of the complaints. Unaccepting of anything but the best, students bombard his office with complaints of their poor parking status. When banished to Allston, Whittingham hears the questions, "Where's Allston?, The Business School? That's ridiculous!" Or, better yet, "I have to go across the bridge? What bridge?"

The entire concept of bringing a car to school seems absolutely ludicrous to the parking office considering the lack of spots. Faculty and employees have to commute to the University and park their cars; students, however, seem to have it pretty easy--they're already here.

"For some," says Whittingham, "it's the idea that 'I have to have my car here.'" Angst runs high during lottery season at the beginning of the year, and seemingly, many car owners really do get what they want.

Although the lottery system seems cut in stone, with a winning whine, you might just get a spot next door.

"It's ridiculous for freshmen to live in the Yard and park their cars all the way in the B-school" says Devon R. Quasha '02 who shares a Jeep Cherokee with her twin brother Grant. Last year, after trekking to Allston to pick up their car, they attained a spot in DeWolfe during the wintertime. This year, assuming that DeWolfe would be his SUV's home, Grant, who is a Crimson Editor, continued to park his car in DeWolfe. Still, he entered the lottery like everyone else.

Although the lottery officials are supposed to inform car-owners of their assigned spots, the Quashas never heard a word until Grant woke up one Thursday morning to a woman proclaiming she was going to tow his car. He went to snatch it from her claws and saw that two big parking tickets had been slapped on his car. Grant drove over to the parking office and requested a spot in Peabody Terrace, his next choice. Without referring to lottery results, he was granted his demand. His car now resides happily near his Dunster home. His sister Devon maintains "I think if you're a good sweet-talker, you can get what you want. It's all about knowing what to do or say."

Apparently, the parking office not only considers the lottery but responds to rhetoric.

Convenient Peabody Terrace is a neutral polity for drivers seeking parking asylum. It caters to people ready to fight for their cars and slide by the lottery process. Franklin J. Leonard '00, has kept a car at Peabody since last year and followed the advice of his roommate to obtain a prime spot--ignore the lottery. "Ask for Peabody Terrace," he says. "They'll give it to you."

There's always a way to bypass the parking office's mission statement of "fairness, sensitivity and mutual respect." Peabody Terrace: the place to go when the lottery is just too proletarian.

Rylan M. Hamilton '02 also discovered the loophole of Peabody Terrace after getting no response from the infamous lottery and going over to the parking office to challenge their ticketing of his car. He ended up with an uncovered spot on the roof of the Terrace.

When Nitze, who is a Crimson Editor, bought a new car, he naturally needed a spot. At the parking office, explains Nitze, an employee casually asked, "Do you mind telling me what kind of car you have?" Nitze name-dropped the name of a high-end luxury vehicle. "With a car like that," the employee responded, "you should get any spot you want." When Nitze inquired about the lottery, he was told, "Don't listen to them, listen to me," and presented with a choice between Peabody Terrace and DeWolfe. Without entering the lottery.

The official lottery regulations stipulate that only residents of a building such as DeWolfe or Peabody Terrace are guaranteed a spot in their building's lot. Nevertheless, Nitze, of Dunster House, received a coveted covered spot on Peabody's first floor.

Considering the car-owning elite, Whittingham says, "Forget that they're at Harvard, or they're getting the education of a lifetime, or whatever you're doing--it's just about access to a car." He adds, "Parking at Harvard is a much, much bigger issue." However, playing fair, for either side, does not seem to be a concern.

Parking Prices

Business School Parking Lot

Monthly-uncovered--$90

Soldiers Field Park Garage

Monthly-covered/uncovered--$105/$90

Peabody Terrace Garage

Monthly-covered/uncovered--$105/$90

DeWolfe Street Garage

Monthly-covered--$125

29 Garden St. Garage

Monthly-covered--$135

(covered and uncovered means with a roof or without)