Campus mourns faithful friend and landmark;

Emory Water Tower: 1933-2007

The Emory water tower, long a stoic icon of campus, was dismantled over winter break due to structural problems. Its steel shell will be recycled. The Emory water tower was 73.

Photo by Bryan Meltz

As a new year begins, the life of one of Emory's most prominent landmarks has come to an end. The water tower on Eagle Row that stoically watched over Emory's campus for more than 73 years was dismantled over the first two weeks of January while Emory's students enjoyed their holiday break. Though a gap in the trees of Eagle Row greets students upon their return to campus, fond memories of the campus icon are certain to span generations for years to come.

The tower's dismantling came after campus officials discovered that necessary structural improvements and a new coat of blue paint would cost several hundred thousand dollars. Furthermore, to keep the water tower standing would require a similar investment in the future. The tower's demolition eases the realignment of Eagle Row and provides a considerable amount of steel for recycling, but the loss to Emory's campus is great.

When the last bit of dirt road remaining on Emory's campus was paved in 1933, the 100,000-gallon water tower began its impressive stance on the then-Fraternity Row. Although never formally named, the tower affectionately became known—in honor of the Emory alumnus and golf legend—as the Bobby Jones Memorial because of its shape like a golf ball on a tee. At a solid 120 feet tall, the water tower stood through nine University presidents, including in 1962–63 when “The Troika,” a group of three University leaders, headed the school in an interim presidency in the midst of the Cold War.

The water tower oversaw Emory's rise as a leader in equal opportunity in the South with the admission of the University's first woman into the School of Medicine in 1943 and its first African-American student into the School of Dentistry in 1962. However, women did not walk under the tower's shadow on a coeducational campus until 1953, and the water tower did not see African-Americans admitted as full-time regular students until 1963. In 1970, the tower observed with interest as students received 24-hour visitation rights in male dorms, and was still watching when Gilbert Hall became Emory's first coeducational dormitory just two years later.

Teeming with vibrancy year after year, the student body at Emory has given the tower much in the way of entertainment, from the school's first University-sponsored dance in 1941 to the 1970s when streaking became a popular campus fad. The tower was no doubt amused when a group of Emory men shaved a monkey and passed it off to faculty members as a visitor from outer space in The Great Monkey Hoax of 1953. When male student Ira Luft was named Miss Emory in 1972, the tower stood strong.

Even though it was drained of water in the 1980s for structural safety reasons and has held no water since, the tower still held its proud stance when Emory became the first private university in the South to extend benefits to same-sex domestic partners of employees in 1995. The tower saw the admission of more than two million volumes to the University's library holdings, as well as the first time the number of women entering Emory College equaled the number of men in 1980. It took notice when the University gave students a break in 1967 with the establishment of Wonderful Wednesdays and then discontinued the tradition in 1982. When Wonderful Wednesdays returned to campus last year, there was quiet rejoicing above the fraternity and soon-to-be sorority village.

Whenever the media decided to focus on Emory, the tower stood guard. The tower's paint was barely dry when students were jailed in 1934 charged with inciting insurrection during an interracial meeting. It watched as then-President Harvey Cox and 69 faculty members affirmed the University's commitment to democracy, while deploring police methods of “terrorism and suppression.” Twenty-four years later, the tower stood firm and proud as the University drew nationwide attention with its statement abhorring the possibility that public schools would be closed in Georgia rather than integrated, and even created a noncredit course entitled “Crisis in the Schools.”

Set as resolutely as President Sanford Atwood, the tower witnessed the University face uproar after TIME magazine published its article “Is God Dead?” in 1965, citing Emory professor Thomas J. J. Altizer as the leader of a group of young theologians calling themselves “Christian atheists” and claiming God as dead. Atwood, as well as other University stalwarts, stood by Altizer and academic freedom. The water tower held strongly with them as public opinion criticized the “radical” university.

Silently observing campus for more than 73 years, the tower served as sentinel, witness, and partner of the University. Like Dooley, it saw presidents come and presidents go, professors come and professors go, and students come and students go, and it lived on, though not forever. In its demolition, the tower takes with it almost three quarters of a century of Emory history. It also reminds those remaining on campus of the liveliness of the time that has passed and its importance in creating the future. As we walk into sunlight, shining where the long shadow of the water tower once appeared, we will remember all it saw—our campus stalwart still standing strong in our memories, though no longer towering over our heads.—Leila Borders 07C