Our First Day At Martha Cook Building
In the fall of 1915, something came to pass to make history at the University of Michigan, and no one realized it more than the Ann Arbor taxi drivers. All traffic seemed directed toward Martha Cook Building, the magnificent new residence hall for women. It was quite overwhelming to have the driver ring the bell and leave us scared Freshmen bag and baggage, facing the great edifice with its unknown promises.
Almost immediately, we were rushed into the council chamber to be reassured with a kindly smile from Miss Beggs, who officially stamped and catalogued us, thence to Miss Mack to rid ourselves, with a sigh of relief, of the money pinned in our pockets by wise mothers, or to enjoy the delights of new check books.
Next, we met Tony, the elevator man, who let us off at our respective floors. (The elevator seemed quite as bewildered as we over the strange big place and positively refused to work at times, and then haughtily disdained to run more than ten minutes before and after the hour.)
In those days we had only one 'phone to care for the service of already popular Martha Cook; and names were read at dinner of those receiving calls during the day. Speaking of dinner, by the way, who will ever forget that memorable first meal? With all due respect to Miss Walmsley, the dinner gave us a pang of homesickness, with its spare ribs, so very spare, followed by burnt pudding. Several girls rushed to their rooms to bewail the pies that Mother made, while the braver ones gathered in the living room to play.
Many had come fortified in event of hunger with food from home. That first nights, the members of the staff were threatened with serious illness, as a result of just having to try a little of each of the concoctions of the various spreads attended.
Things seemed much better, however, after a good night's rest in our comfortable beds, and we actually felt at home in our new surroundings. Then, too, so quickly was everything efficiently organized, that the elevator ran as a regular elevator should; our 'phone service vied with that of the most modern hotel; and burnt pudding became only a memory.
To Miss Mack and the sixteen girls who have lived in the building during its first four years, these experiences are now but amusing recollections, although at the time, they verged on the tragic.
- Marie K. Horning, '19.