Gannon also reports that the Union is home to a ghost. "He's a very benign apparition, and decidedly nocturnal. It's my guess that it's a wayward freshman from long ago," he said.

Although he's never seen the ghost, Gannon said that he has "felt his presence." and claims that the spectre first made himself known in the late 1950s.

"It was late one night after a Jubilee Ball [a freshman fete]. By the time all the furniture was put back, it was 3 a.m. and since I had to be back into work by 6 a.m., there was little point in going home, so I stayed the night on the second floor. About 4 a.m. I heard the piano making a peculiar noise--the strings were twanging without reason. I thought at first it might be due to a changing of temperature, but that just doesn't pass muster," Gannon said.

The Union's poltergeist hardly merits calling in the Ghostbusters, though. Gannon said the innocuous phantom makes himself known about a dozen times a year in harmless ways. "There are a few unexplainable noises, and doors opening and closing for no apparent reason, but other than that, he's harmless."

From Riches to Rags

During the 38 years that Gannon has worked in the Union, he has also seen it deteriorate. In the middle fifties, Gannon reports, the slide really began. It was then that the animal heads that Roosevelt had donated had to be taken down.

"Freshmen would be eating their cream of broccoli soup, and a wildebeast's ear would drop in. It was an unpleasant situation," Gannon said.

"In the old days, the Union was the epitome of opulence. Today it is drab and dreary....She is a once proud lady that has definitely lost her lustre."

Gannon says that the Union is overextended. "Freshmen have no place to enjoy what limited free time they have. The solution is either to cut down on class size or to expand the facilities. But we are low man on the totem pole, so it's hard to get things done. The Union is definitely not what it used to be, nor what it should be," he said.

The class of '90 seems to concur. Few freshmen see the Union as more than a place to eat. And, there is little to entice freshmen to the Union, save the food--which by all accounts isn't that enticing.

The dining area, where students spend an average of two and a half hours a day, receives mixed reveiws. Mark W. Frattarola '90 describes the hall as "dreary and brown." Rophie concurred with Frattarola, but added, "Of course the Union's not nice--that's the whole point. You escape Harvard pretention."

In line with Higginson's original intentions, the Union is more than Broccoli & Cheese Pasta and Tuna Noodle casserole. The basement game room, operated by Harvard Student Agencies (HSA), has three pool tables and a dozen video games, and is frequented by a core of addicts. But even they are not keen on the place.

"I'd describe the games room as an unfinished basement," says Charles A. Colligan '90. C. Blake Williams '90 says he doesn't find the area too pleasant either. "It's not aesthically charming--in fact, it's ugly," he says.

There is no doubt that the Union is no longer the student's center Higginson intended. Many students want to see either a return to those days, or something completely new.

Jon D. Kastin '90 argues that there is definitely a need for a student center, "and the Union isn't it. The University should provide facilities for forms of entertainment other than video games and ping-pong. We pale by comparison with other schools. Surely Harvard can do better than this," he said.