Ben Jaklowicz

Forty-five minutes after leaving your room to purchase a 30-rack of Keystone Light with his fake ID, your roommate Ben Jaklowicz returned with the beer, gasping for breath after a near-disastrous encounter with building resident assistants.

At 3:34 p.m., Jaklowicz woke you from a nap by bursting through the door of your Third Shay room. He rapidly shut and locked the door and put the entire 30-rack in your refrigerator, then proceeded to tell you his harrowing story.

“The lady at Tops didn’t look twice at the ID, so everything went great up until I parked my car outside,” he said, still breathing heavily.

Jaklowicz said he ran with the beer to the main Shay staircase door, which he’d propped open with an empty beer can, and started upstairs before realizing Fourth Shay RA Kelsey Riker was coming down.

“I didn’t know what to do, so I ran back down and thank God the basement door was open because I went down there and hid for, like, 10 minutes,” Jaklowicz said. “Then I opened the door and listened for a few seconds and made a mad dash up the stairs to our door.”

Jaklowicz said as he fumbled with the keys to the Third Shay door, heard floor RA Will Foster’s voice in the hallway.

“Thank god he was talking to someone ’cause I’d've never heard him coming,” Jaklowicz said. “But I had to go somewhere so I ran up to the fourth floor landing and waited until after he’d come out our door and gone down a couple flights of stairs.”

Jaklowicz said he was worried some other RA would come out the Fourth Shay door, so he raced down the stairs, opened the Third Shay door and sprinted down the hallway to your room.

You are happy your roommate didn’t get caught and for your beer-filled fridge, but you really wish he hadn’t woken you from your nap.

Jaklowicz’s joy is short-lived, however, because he’s now looking out the window into the Shay-Lo quad and sees a Safety and Security officer writing him a ticket for his illegally parked car.

Patty Mullins, administrative assistant to the president, had her plan to prank the entire campus through e-mail thwarted by today's announcement.

Officials declared St. Bonaventure University a prank-free zone for April Fool’s Day Wednesday in light of the nation’s economic recession, leaving several diabolical plans thwarted.

“We do not believe that now is the time to pull practical jokes on each other,” said Colton Crosswire, university spokesman. “Let today be a reminder that in hardship, only hard work will get us anywhere. Not jokes.”

Crosswire’s announcement left several wannabe pranksters dumbfounded.

“Hey, it’s not like we were gonna destroy property or anything,” said sophomore Megyn Volchok, a theater major. She and a group of friends had planned to take as many forks as possible  from Hickey Memorial Dining Hall. “I don’t see how the administration can ban fun, even for a day.”

Senior Quentin Forrest said the announcement thwarted his mission to Dixie-cup English professor Rindy Morrison’s office.

“I even had the bucket of water and everything all ready,” Forrest, an English major, said. “Now what am I supposed to do with 1,000 Dixie cups and this bucket?”

Students weren’t the only ones left out in the cold following the university’s announcement.

Legendary prankster Percy LaFerris, an assistant professor of Spanish, said he was disappointed, but he’d save his plan until next year.

Patty Mullins, assistant to university president Sr. Margaret Carney, had to throw her prank into her e-mail’s virtual trash can.

“I was all set to send out a ‘Special Notice Board from the President’ e-mail,” Mullins said of her plan. “It was to the whole university community and it specified that on-campus bathrooms would only be open today from 2 to 3 p.m. And everyone would have to take potty breaks in alphabetical order.”

One rebellious prankster went ahead with her prank despite the university’s announcement. She placed several large “For Sale” signs along Route 417 near the main and Francis entrances to the university.

“Hey, it was all in good fun,” said the senior, who asked to have her identity withheld for fear of retribution. “At this point, laughing and alcohol are the only things that keep me sane.”

“Yeah, totally thought I was showing up for something else entirely,” said Cullen, a sociology major, though he didn’t mention what that something was. “I’m not even in a math class.”

The math lab’s instructor, Warren Morris, said Cullen entered the De La Roche classroom, looked around for a few moments and quickly exited.

“He asked us where all the ‘stuff’ was, and the three students and I just gave him a blank look,” said Morris, an assistant professor of mathematics. “He obviously wasn’t in the right place.”

Cullen said he’d read closer next time before committing to something that sounded too good to be true.

In a scene played out throughout Plassmann Hall, Room 101 sits empty only minutes before Wednesday's active-shooter emergency drill commences. The room usually hosts a Clare 104 class at this time.

Empty classrooms greeted a fake shooter and the local law enforcement officers trying to track him down Wednesday as St. Bonaventure University students and faculty members decided to take the day off.

“I was supposed to have Intellectual Journey at 8:30 this morning but I decided to sleep in instead,” said freshman Jerome Parrish, a physics major. “I wasn’t about to stay in that classroom for three or four hours.”

Parrish had nothing to worry about, though, as his Clare 101 professor, Jean Dillon, also decided to stay home for the morning.

“Hey, this school never gives us snow days or anything,” said Dillon, an assistant professor of English. “And if you think I was going to be stuck with those freshman for that long, you’re mistaken. Fifty minutes is enough as it is.”

Students and professors alike took Lockdown Day, the popular term for the day of St. Bonaventure’s long-planned active-shooter emergency drill, as an opportunity to play hooky from morning classes and sleep, watch movies or play video games.

“We woke up around 8:30 this morning and had bacon, eggs and mamosas for breakfast in our townhouse,” said Gwen Van Dusen, a senior special education member said. “All of us had classes at 10:30, so they would’ve been cancelled because of the lockdown anyway, but we brought Lockdown Day in with a bang.”

Biology professor Ezra Noonan said he decided not to teach his 8:30 a.m. Biology 101 class, walking his dog in the sunny, 40-degree weather instead.

“It’s not that I think safety’s not important,” Noonan said. “But as world-class assassin, I’m pretty sure I’d be able to hold my own in that type of situation.”

Safety and Security officials said they and local police executed the active-shooter drill, planned for more than a year, with no major problems.

“The fact there were no students to take hostage kind of thwarted our plans, but we made do by using ghost men like in sandlot baseball,” said department spokesman Red Gorlowski. “All in all, we feel prepared.”

Senior Perry Russ, who didn’t have class Wednesday morning anyway, said he barely noticed the drill happening.

“All we did was keep the apartment doors locked and the shades pulled,” said Russ, a physical education major. “Hey, I’m not making light of the situation. I’d rather make light of the fact that I totally pwned my roommates all morning in Gears of War 2.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” said Colton Crosswire, university spokesman, as he covered his ears. “La la la la la la! I can’t hear you!”

The 17.2-acre, fenced-in eyesore across from the university doesn’t even appear on the newest university map. The map instead shows an extension of Cranberry Road complete with non-existent buildings and a non-existent plaza marked “Shopping Center.”

Crosswire said the map was accurate as far as he knew.

“That shopping center has been around for years and has served the university community well,” he said. “I just bought a great pair of slacks from Target on clearance, too.”

The December 2004 agreement between COR Development Company, LLC and St. Bonaventure expires next month. The property has already cost the university more than a half-million dollars in taxes, on top of the $1.8 million total mortgage.

Psychology professor Richard Burrows said the administration appears to have regressed to Stage 1 of the Kübler-Ross model of grief — denial.

“We sometimes see this in patients who’ve lost both legs — they accept it while lying in bed, but they relapse once they sit up and realize they can’t walk,” Burrows said. “In the administration’s case, the snow covered up their problem for so long, they and everyone else forgot it was there. Now it’s right out in plain sight again and they’re going through the grief of having an undeveloped plot of land all over.”

When asked about Burrows’ thoughts, Crosswire snorted.

“Sounds like that man needs some retail therapy,” he said. “The Bed Bath & Beyond across the street has a great sale on shower curtains this week!”

The five faculty members of St. Bonaventure University's history department executed a daring maneuver with military-like precision Thursday night into Friday morning. The faculty remade a classroom in Plassmann Hall, seen here in this file photo, into their new offices.

Several classes were canceled at St. Bonaventure University Friday after the history department faculty spent the overnight hours remaking a former Plassmann Hall classroom into their new offices.

“The Registrar’s Office is scrambling to make room and scheduling changes for the six or so Clare College classes that utilized Plassmann 101,” said Colton Crosswire, university spokesman. “However, the president, provost and dean have no comment on the history department’s actions at this time other than to say they wish this could have been done more diplomatically.”

The history department, part of the School of Arts and Sciences, had been the only academic department with offices located in Doyle Hall, which is used primarily as a residence hall for upperclassmen and is also home to the University Chapel.

“It’s been a long time coming,” Roger Hatfield, the department’s chair, said triumphantly from his new office, part of the room formerly known as Plassmann 101. “We’d been banished to Doyle Hall for years and finally got fed up with walking that distance to classes every day.”

The department executed the risky strategic maneuver with military-like precision all Thursday through 6 a.m. Friday, Hatfield said (approximate timeline provided below).

“All day Thursday, our faculty was slowly and cautiously boxing up things in their offices and putting them by the chapel door in Doyle,” Hatfield said. “If anyone asked what we were doing, we told them the university needed to do some emergency asbestos abatement and all our stuff needed to be out by that night.”

John Geddis, associate professor, said the department had petitioned the Faculty Senate, the administration and the School of Arts and Sciences for several years to have their offices moved closer to or inside Plassmann Hall, where most history classes are held. No action was ever taken.

“At some point, I guess, you have to just take things into your own hands,” Geddis said. “I’m sorry to the professors and students in the classes we’ve displaced with our new offices, but the history department is finally in Plassmann where it belongs.”

Senior history major Ginny Winslow said she supported her professors’ actions.

“I always thought it was weird that their offices were all the way over in Doyle,” Winslow said. “Oh, and I was in one of those canceled Clare classes so I’m happy about that, too.”

Hatfield said more work needed to be done before the offices were finished.

“As you can see right now, we only have up cubicle-style partitions, but the five of us have plans to spend a few weekends in here to put up some drywall and paint and stuff,” Hatfield said, looking around his new digs while reclining in his large leather desk chair. “This place definitely has potential. We’re thinking of putting a minibar in the corner.”

Approximate Timeline for History Department’s Daring Overnight Maneuver

Professor Roger Hatfield, the history department chair, provided the sequence of events that led to new offices for him and his four colleagues.

• All day Thursday | Faculty slowly empty offices, piling everything in Doyle Hall north entrance, explain to anyone who asks that the university is preparing for emergency asbestos abatement. No suspicion is raised.
• 6 p.m. | Rented moving truck parks in loop outside Doyle Hall north entrance, faculty load boxes, desks and chairs into it.
• 6:30 to 10 p.m. | Truck parked in Walmart parking lot, followed by a faculty outing, including light dinner at Applebee’s and a screening of He’s Just Not That Into You at Carmike Cinemas.
  
• 10 p.m. | Faculty don all-black clothing and back truck up to Plassmann Hall Annex entrance. Boxes, desks, chairs removed from truck by four professors while Rita Kendall, assistant professor, keeps watch.
• 10:17 p.m. | Truck moved to obscure parking lot near baseball field. Plassmann 101 windows covered. Classroom tables and chairs deposited in Plassmann 100. John Geddis, associate professor, uses amateur locksmithing skills to change door lock. Quick check of classroom crucifix to make sure it doesn’t really contain a camera or microphone.
• 10:47 p.m. | Boxes, desks and chairs begin to be moved to Plassmann 101.
• 11:14 p.m. | Everything moved in, door locked, temporary sound-dampening foam installed.
• 11:48 p.m. | Faculty celebration, complete with bottle of champagne.
• 12:22 a.m., Friday | Temporary cubicle partitions installed, offices claimed.
• 12:39 a.m. to 6 a.m. | Faculty move into new offices.

Bryan Izzo's 1990 Ford Tempo dove front-first into a giant pothole outside the Reilly Center Tuesday afternoon, as seen in this grainy, reader-submitted cell phone photo.

Maintenance officials at St. Bonaventure University closed the southernmost portion of Bonaventure Road Tuesday afternoon after a pothole approximately eight feet wide and four feet deep swallowed a student’s vehicle.

Senior French major Bryan Izzo said he jumped out of his moving car, a tan 1990 Ford Tempo, just before it tipped front-first into the gaping hole.

“I don’t like taking the road behind the RC in the winter too much because it’s like running a slalom trying to avoid the potholes,” Izzo said, “but today I was late to my Social World class and decided to risk it. Guess that was a bad decision.”

Maintenance spokesman Yuri Kovalev said the department was aware of issues with potholes on Bonaventure Road but conditions through today hadn’t warranted patching.

“We’ll patch where needed when it’s dry, but usually we just count on the snow to fill in the open holes,” Kovalev said. “Obviously, we missed a big one today.”

Officials closed Bonaventure Road to vehicle traffic for approximately three hours while a tow truck removed Izzo’s car from the hole, Kovalev said. The road had since reopened, with the area around the hole cordoned off until the university received enough asphalt to temporarily fill it.

Officials speculated the massive pothole, located right outside the south entrance to the Reilly Center, probably materialized after several smaller ones collapsed in on each other.

The mishap totalled Izzo’s Tempo, causing an estimated $600 in damage to the front end.

Pothole problems have plagued campus roads for the past several winters. In October 2007, the university announced it had received a $2 million grant to improve its roads for public access. Construction is scheduled for this summer — not soon enough for Izzo.

“I always thought my car would just get a bent rim or something from these potholes, not get completely swallowed up,” he said. “But they’re lucky it was me that lost my shitty car and not one of these kids driving a BMW or Mercedes.”

Seen here embracing outside the Rathskeller, Michelle Turner and Hanson Nolan, known among upperclassmen as The Couple, can't seem to keep their hands off each other.

Though they only met five months ago, friends say St. Bonaventure University freshmen Michelle Turner and Hanson Nolan are almost completely inseparable in public.

“At first it was cute, because they do make a pretty cute couple,” said Joelle Walsh, Turner’s Fourth Shay roommate. “Now it’s like they’re married and they just can’t seem to keep their hands off each other. I can’t get her to go anywhere or do anything without him coming, too.”

Turner, a biology major, and Nolan, a sociology major, met during an evening retreat to Mount Irenaeus for University 101 classes in mid-September 2008. They were Facebook Official three days later and have spent almost every waking moment since together, said Nolan’s Third Shay roommate Pete Howard.

“Hanson and I were best friends for those first four weeks; we got along great,” Howard said. “Then he meets Michelle and suddenly he’s always up in her room or she’s down here and we never play Madden or Gears of War 2 anymore. I miss him.”

The Couple, as Turner and Nolan have come to be known by upperclassmen who’ve seen them together everywhere on campus, even coordinated their spring semester schedules to ensure they took two Clare College courses together and that their lunches would coincide.

“I sit behind The Couple in Western World this semester and he’s always got his arm around her, even when he’s taking notes,” said junior Lindsay Olsen. “It’s gross because they sit right in the front row where everyone can see them, but Dr. Ward doesn’t seem to care.”

Walsh and Howard, the roommates, said The Couple also joined Students for the Mountain and Model UN together. Students involved in each group said Turner and Nolan only separate when one or both uses the lavatory.

Howard said he leaves his room when Turner and Nolan are in it together.

“It’s not even like they’re making out or having sex or anything,” he said. “They just lay there and cuddle and talk to each other in baby voices. It’s disgusting.”

Walsh recounted a night two weeks ago when, while trying to study for a Spanish exam, she heard Turner and Nolan discussing engagement.

“I couldn’t believe what I was hearing,” Walsh said. “They’ve only known each other since September. If this is how they act when they’re dating, I can’t imagine what they’ll be like when they’re married.”

Bob Donius (Image courtesy of sbu.edu)

For as long as St. Bonaventure University senior Eve Callahan can remember, she and her friends have always followed a mention of Bob Donius’ name by singing it to the tune of Duran Duran’s 1986 single “Notorious.”

“I can’t say when I first heard it, but it seems like we’ve done it since we got here,” Callahan, a history major, said. “It just always seemed so natural. Someone would say Bob’s name and then someone else would always chime in with a ‘Bob-Bob — Bob DONius, Bob DONius.’”

Tuesday afternoon, Callahan and her friends were embarrassed to notice the vice president for University Ministries seated two tables over in Hickey Memorial Dining Hall right after they’d broken out into song using his name.

“I couldn’t believe it when Katie [Green, Callahan's roommate] pointed out right after the second ‘Bob-Bob’ that Bob himself was sitting right next to us,” said Callahan. “He just smiled at us, but we all got red in the face and quickly left the scene.”

Ward Barton, the spokesman for University Ministries, said that Donius had never heard his name sung to “Notorious” before. Barton said the vice president also was not familiar with the 1986 Duran Duran song or the 1999 Notorious B.I.G. track that samples it.

“That’s not to say he didn’t enjoy the Hickey performance,” Barton noted. “He actually finds the remixed lyrics quite amusing and applauds St. Bonaventure students for their cleverness.”

The history of the Donius/”Notorious” remix is fuzzy. Donius has held his current position on the administration since 2002. St. Bonaventure legend states that a staffer at campus radio station WSBU-FM finally made the rhythmic and rhymic connection between Donius’ name and the Duran Duran track during the fall semester of 2005.

“I specifically remember the day,” said Andrew Eckhardt, a 2006 graduate and former WSBU station manager. “We were all sitting around at The Buzz and somebody played either the Duran Duran or Biggie version. In the song, they go “No-no—noTORious,” but one of the kids said “Bob-Bob — Bob DONius, Bob DONius,” and we all burst out laughing and started singing along.”

Students throughout the St. Bonaventure community have sung the remixed “Notorious” lyrics since that day.

“I remember when I first heard it last semester,” said Trevor Furman, a freshman biology major. “My friends and I all thought it was genius.”

Duran Duran released its smash-hit “Notorious” in 1986, and it hit No. 2 on the Billboard Hot 100. It was also featured on the soundtrack of the popular cult film Donnie Darko.

Callahan said she and her friends offered Donius an apology, which he said was unnecessary.

“We told him we were sorry to be disrespectful,” said Callahan, “but he said it was an honor to have a song sung in his honor.”

“Me and my friends were all sitting in the Hickey and they were all talkin’ about this Ryan Webber kid who Steph thinks she made out with at Foster’s last weekend,” said Maynard, an elementary education major. “I was like, ‘Guys, the name sounds familiar, but I don’t think I know who this Ryan kid is,’ and they all said, ‘Oh, you definitely do; just look him up on Facebook and you’ll know his face.’”

Maynard said upon returning to her room on Fourth Doyle, she typed Webber’s name into the Facebook search bar and immediately recognized him.

“I definitely seen him before,” Maynard said. “This campus is too small to not know who everyone is.

“Plus I think I might’ve even made out with him at the bar once or twice, too.”