1891: A Novel about Stanford University

Back to Encina Hall. It’s an easy walk from the Quad. Still there in all its glory. I walked into the lobby and walked around but that is about as far as you can get. The details behind the double doors were dug up from my memories of being there circa 1952. My first year was at Stanford Village, now the municipal center of Menlo Park, but that is another story that someone should write.

Encina was the most imposing building on the campus. Because of that, all the posed pictures you will see that were taken at that time (1891-1901) were taken on the steps or in front of the building.

Another thing to remember is that all the boys, men, professors, and even some visitors were housed there. Because of that broader friendship could be formed and more mischief could be conceived on a grand scale—the flatcar prank is a good example of that.

Going into the lobby will give you a feel for the place. You can see where the dining room was, dead ahead. I particularly like to remember how the Roble girls swept into the place and the Encina boys were hanging like monkies  from the bannisters.  

I lived on the western side, toward Mayfield. I could look out my window and see what was going on that side of the building. One incident sticks in my head. A Stanford Rough was proudly showing his mother around the place where, I guess, he lived. They wandered a little too close and a water bag rained on his mother’s head. The rough made a fist at the bank of windows. In response, a high-pitched laugh rang out. I have heard that laugh described in other situations and can only think it is another Stanford tradition. Who am I to say? Enough for now. Will probably think of more, later. Otherwise, on to David Starr Jordan’s residence—-Escontite Cottage.

Let’s see we were at the mausoleum. Near there are the cactus gardens. For some reason, during Victorian Days, the well-to-do felt cactus gardens were exotic. Even today, some people love cactus. I am not one of them. When I was last there, about a year ago, some of the cactus lovers were restoring the grounds. I imagine the site has vastly improved. And while I am at it, the grounds where the old Palo Alto grows, on Alma Street, were also improved by some dedicated individuals. They did a wonderful job. Too bad, when I was there, no one else was. Some joggers from Menlo Park passed through, but it was old stuff for them. Back to the Cactus Gardens, now I am capitalizing, about the best thing is to imagine Stanford couples romancing in this secluded area. It must have been interesting.

In my mind, the museum would be the next stop. Now it is the Cantor Museum and mostly devoted to art objects. When I was in school, the museum was closed, going through some kind of renovation. In the lobby, if you can imagine, was Stanford’s own Steam Engine in all its glory. With the new emphasis, the engine was moved to Sacramento. That must have been interesting. There is a room devoted to the Stanford family, but I bet there are lots of memorabilia that is stacked in boxes like the storage area in Citizen Kane. I like the stuff identified with the Senator—particularly the pearl handled cane. It is in all of his later pictures and there it is in all its glory. The boy’s art and stuff he colected shows that he was a pampered child. And why not, he would die when he was fourteen. And if he hadn’t died there would be no Stanford University.

From the library, walk toward the main quad and you will go by the Chemistry Building, now vacant and waiting for what? Someone to come along and tear it down or use it as a real museum. Who knows. I was never in it. Chemistry was way off the beaten path. The reason it was so isolated was the explosion over at  San Jose’s College of Pacific Because of that most of the students transferred to Stanford. For obvious reason, COP, in Strockton, has brushed that portion of their history under the carpet. I don’t see why. It is a great school, and I think, overcoming that diversity is a wonderful accomplishment. But, as you will see, history is funny. People pick and choose the portions they want, and we have to guess at what really happened.

That’s enough for now. Stay with us. We are approaching the oval and getting to the interesting part about the realtionship between Senator Stanford and Frederick Omsted. Please forgive the typos.