The Last Of The Gails
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Student Life

The Last Of The Gails

A memoir of George Fox University's finest house.

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The Last Of The Gails
Jonathon Stein

For an individual unfamiliar with Gail house, a brisk walk circumferencing the converted doctor’s office tells you all you need to know. A cardboard cutout of the university president rocking some shades smiles at you as you pass the north side. A flag reading “Don’t Tread on Me” greets visitors as they enter the back patio. A boat peppered with holes sits calmly alongside a bench. The house is eccentrically quaint.

Inside, the house is mystical. Quotes litter the wall, the kitchen is disheveled and memes populate the ceiling like Orion’s belt. Each object seems somehow brimming with memory. The lacerated leaves on the fake tree in the living room are just the first pages of a great novel; the peculiar dents in awkward support poles beckon listeners to their legends. Even a glance at the mundane oak table sitting placidly in the kitchen is startling: tales scurry to hide under the legs but paradoxically hope to be coaxed out.

The house itself is bland. Walls are a dull white, the carpet is plain and scraggly, the uncleaned corners hum with cobwebs. The house is flat. But the stories nesting beneath the foundation bend the house into its true form. They don’t come readily, but they are essential. So here are a few:

"Would it be appropriate to climb through this?"

The answer in Gail was always yes. Reticence was not an option. Should we make a giant light-up ‘G’ and hang it outside as Christmas lights? Yes. Should we then put it in our living room? Absolutely. If there was a free boat on the side of the road, you would take it and go sailing. Life is a journey – you might as well sojourn in a boat. And if the boat starts leaking, sail on land.

Gail was always climbing. Life was an eternal ladder to be submitted, wringing excellence from all the Gail Males. Each action was a rung: throwing a touchdown hammer at frisbee, baking God’s gift of sugary bacon and green beans in a “beenie-weanie” delight or nailing the elusive bullseye to ice a game of darts. It was always appropriate – even expected – to climb.

"I'm honestly kind of jealous of my future wife."

Gail lacked no skill. Need someone to rub your back? The only difficulty was deciding who to ask. Want to make delicious nachos for a Super Bowl party? Inform the resident chef of how many trays of nachos you’d like. Have you had a hard week and need someone to talk to? Just be sure to keep track of time, because you’ll easily talk into the morning without feeling a bit tired.

Each member of Gail brought something unique and valuable to the house, whether that be talent in academics, cooking, service, or counseling. Though the residents of the house had their own individual rooms, there was unity in the main living space. Though we came in as separate individuals with our own skills, we left having influenced each other, carrying with us an inkling of our brothers in Gail. The house has experience with acts of service, preparation of dishes and late-night talks. Gail Males have reason to be jealous of their future wives, because Gail Males will make incredible husbands and fathers.

"We did it for so little money" ... "No! We did it because it was intrinsically valuable."

At points, Gail was quotidian. Mondays consisted of rising early, attending classes and doing homework. Even Friday nights were not always special. Life could be as simple as playing a game or watching the Princess Bride. While Gail was flashy, it was not extravagant and it often bordered on the realm of cheap.

There was something special in the simplicity. Doing homework until 3 am together night after night ties a unique bond. Gail house did a lot of memorable feats, and these memories percolate the worn house, but there is also a sentiment ‘baked in.’ The enthusiasm for life pervades the air. Love is ubiquitous like the sheet of dust blanketing the floors. The house is weighty. The brotherhood is intrinsic.

As one leaves Gail house, they see a house alive with memories of a full year; they see a house that turned many individuals into one family; they see a house awaiting demolition.

But even as the house itself fades away from time, Gail lives on. The bellyaching laughs, the emotional tears, the never ending adventures – all this is eternally a part of the members of the house, the members of the house will forever be the Gail Males.

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This article has not been reviewed by Odyssey HQ and solely reflects the ideas and opinions of the creator.
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