As Hurricane Gloria slammed into the East Coast yesterday, taking at least three lives and causing millions of dollars in damages, Harvard students drank beer, blasted music and cavorted in the gusting winds.

Despite--or perhaps because of--the blustering winds and the advice of Dean of the College L. Fred Jewett '57 to stay inside, touch football games sprang up all around the College. And at the River, even the Metropolitan Police had a hard time controlling a spontaneous party on the muddy banks. (See story, page 3.)

Oh, You 'Shmen

With U2 blaring out a second-story suite, freshmen lined up on the front steps of Weid Hall to cheer on the wind--"Go! Go! Go!"--as it snapped a half-dozen trees. Freshmen Adam Green and Daniel A. H. McGiffin even rigged up a windskateboard, using a towel as a sail to propel them across the Yard's debrisspattered walkways.

Associate Dean of Freshmen W.C. Burriss Young '55 and Harvard Police herded the freshmen back near the buildings and away from the trees.

Several yardlings enjoying the wind and driving rain said they had never been in a hurricane and wanted to experience the event to the fullest. "There's nothing better to do than to play lacrosse in a hurricane," said Wigglesworth Hall resident Meredith C. Lazo '89.

Students in Canaday Hall did follow instructions to put heavy tape on their windows in case they shattered, but more than a few seized the opportunity to offer commentary on the occasion: one window bore the legend "Gloria we luv ya." The back of one Weld North window sported the message "YIKES."

The Happy Evacuation

Down at Leverett House, officials ordered the 300 residents of the two towers to evacuate to McKinlock Hall about 11 a.m.

Leverett resident Kim Little '87 brought her sleeping bag and teddy bear, Paul Bear Bryant. "If we're going to have a hurricane, we might as well have a good time," Little explained.

And have a good time they did. Students set up a VCR in the McKinlock dining hall and presented showings of "The Killing Fields," a Rush concert, "48 Hours," and "Mistress of the Apes."

Said Kevin Wattles '86, "Leverett is the place to be when the hurricane hits." Added Tony Borsa '88, "Partying will pick up in the next couple of hours in direct proportion to the hurricane. When the hurricane hits, we party the hardest."

Leverett House Master John P. Dowling was not amused. "This is a house that could very well be lost. We're worried that the slate from the roofs of Old Leverett will fly off--and they can be lethal projectiles."

Mather Envy

Students were also evacuated from the 18-story Mather House tower beginning at about noon. Senior Tutor Terry Shaller said that although windows there are made of shatter-resistant safety glass, students were told to tape them up as a precautionary measure.

"They're making such a big deal, it makes you wonder if anything's going to happen," said Amy Perry '86. Others were less complacent. Paul Gallagher '86 didn't bother to tape his windows on the 17th floor, but one of his roommates did--before seeking safer refuge at Lowell House.

"He was even considering leaving Boston and heading west," Gallagher said.

Samuel A. Hoisington '87 and his roommates in Mather 423 used black electric tape to spell the word "PARTY" in their picture window. They said they had stockpiled five cases of beer for a hurricane party Friday night.

But at 4 p.m., in keeping with tradition, Co-Masters David and Patricia Herlihy hosted students for an open house.

Outside Mather House, juniors Douglas Kelly and Donald Mordecai readied for an afternoon run, and wondered aloud whether they should go back to their rooms for protective glasses.

"Go upstairs and get the brains that you're missing," said an exasperated Superintendent James Garside.

For Kirkland House residents, the party started early.

From breakfast, it was on to the Harvard Provision package store, and groups monitoring the storm's inauspcious progress from the Kirkland archway cheered as friends wheeled keg after keg into the house.

When asked if Kirkland would be taking any special storm precautions, Superintendent Kevin Higgins said, "We're getting drunk, it looks like," nodding to an incoming keg.

"We went around being alive because we knew there was the slightest possibility we wouldn't be tomorrow," said Samuel H. Heldman '86.

"People I didn't even know came up and introduced themselves to me. It was sort of a bonding experience," said Kirkland resident Kristin L. Amerling '87.

Residents estimated that the house hosted about two dozen parties for storm-weary undergraduates.

"I suspect that 30 percent of this school's going to be shitfaced by the end of this afternoon," ventured one undergraduate, who asked to remain anonymous