Beneath the streets of Harvard, exists a world that most students never see. Down in the tunnels connecting almost every Harvard building, you can hear no noise from the street, feel no breeze, smell nothing. The air is humid and temperatures in the tunnels reach 120 degrees in the places, creating a tropical atmosphere. The eight-foot gray concrete walls shelter the University's vital organs--steam, water, and electric lines.

A certain mysticism surrounds the tunnels which span about three miles and connect the basements of almost every building in the College and much of the University. The tunnels take their name from the three 10-to-12-inch steam lines which provide Harvard with 100 pounds of steam pressure per square inch. In addition, the tunnels carry electric, telephone, and water lines and the cotton-insulated radio cables of WHRB, the student-run radio station.

Students, not immune to the call of the dark, throughout the tunnels' history have found illicit adventure beneath the Houses. And for some students, exploring the tunnels has become a intramural sport. These so-called "tunnel runners" engage in late-night wanderings around the maze of tunnels.

Graffiti, ranging from phone numbers to drawings, frequently decorate the tunnel walls which intrepid students have left on the walls to mark their descents into the unknown. The obscene drawings and interesting slogans beneath New Quincy House, for instance, have won renown among Harvard tunnel runners. A recent addition--"Quincy House 'Comics' Class of '87"--has been scribbled across one of the walls. And "Nuke New Quincy" appears nearby.

The tunnels run from Cambridge Electric Light Company on Western Avenue through the College to the Law School's Langdell Hall. One branch travels through the Weeks footbridge to the Business School. The poorly lit corridor passes through the hollow interior of the bridge and is sealed off from the main passageways by locked doors.

On the College side of the bridge a big "JB 1927" is painted on the left wall, and wooden slat steps wend their way up the bridge's first arch. After about dozen steps, the staircase ends and the floor begins to follow the contour of the bridge arches.

The floor and ceiling slope closer and closer, and soon it is necessary to drop down to hands and knees. Each arch peaks about two feet away from the ceiling and then goes back down. Beyond the three arches, a set of steel double doors leads into the Business School, where the tunnels dramatically change character.

B-School students, faculty, and staff use the public tunnels to travel underground from building to building. Laundry rooms. Coke machines, and bathrooms dot the yellow cement-brick walls, and the steam pipes far above are barely noticeable. People pass through unconcerned by the strange clicking noise can be heard coming from the pipes at intersections. Decorative flagstones pave the floor in some places.

Nazi Spy Chases

Tales of intrigue and adventure abound concerning the tunnels. Perhaps the most famous story about the tunnels is the one about "the Nazi spy" said Robert Tonis, '77, former chief of University police. "When I was in the FBI [in 1939] we had a surveillance of a man who was in this country and was thought to be a German spy." Tonis remembers.

The suspected spy took a train from New York to Boston, where Tonis was waiting for him. The man took a taxi to one of Harvard's river houses, with Tonis in full pursuit.

But then, "he disappeared," Tonis says. "We lost the tail job. We later found out that he came out one of the tunnels." Although the FBI soon picked up the German's trail again, the mystery remains as to how he accessed or even knew about the tunnels.

Tonis says he doesn't know, but eventually the FBI dropped the surveillance. "It became evident after a while that he was a businessman," Tonis says.

South African Escape

Suspected spies aren't the only ones who have used the tunnels to escape pursuit.