Eric Dash: The 'DP' addiction: it's in the genes

As a freshman, my mother warned me of the black hole that is The Daily Pennsylvanian. The college newspaper, she warned, was as addictive as cigarettes and alcohol. "Once it sucks you in," she said, "it doesn't let you out."

Though I hate to admit it, this time mom knew exactly what she was talking about. She, of course, had experience behind her words. Thirty years ago, I'm sure she called her boyfriend a DP addict. Now, she calls him her husband -- and I call him my dad.

My father entered Penn in 1967, and with notepad in hand, rose through the ranks of the college newspaper. He became sports editor in his senior year and graduated in 1971, as my mother and grandmother put it, with a degree in the DP and a major in biology.

Five nights a week, my father walked to Sergeant Hall at the corner of 34th and Chestnut streets. There, he and several other DP staff members hammered out stories on their typewriters by the final deadline at midnight. Back then, they literally cut and pasted -- using scissors and rubber cement -- to lay out the paper for the next day. But the headlines of his college days sound eerily familiar.

When my father was at Penn, a construction boom was dramatically changing the face of campus. He remembers that Superblock was almost complete, and the high-rises were hailed as shining examples of modern architecture. Likewise, a new University bookstore was almost finished on 38th Street, and a host of new retail and dining outlets were just beginning to line Walnut Street and the 40th Street corridor.

When my father was at Penn, there were dramatic changes in student life. He remembers when the draconian dress code of a jacket-and-tie for dining at Houston Hall was lifted and when women were eventually allowed to live in the Quad. And how debates over the Vietnam War and the policies of in loco parentis dominated Penn politics, culminating in large rallies on College Green and sit-ins in College Hall.

More fondly, my father remembers the countless hours he spent as a DP reporter, covering Penn sporting events at Franklin Field and the Palestra as well as traveling with the teams on the road.

He saw Penn wrestler David Pottruck grind opponents into the mat. He watched NBA-bound coaches Chuck Daly and Dick Harter run Penn basketball practice. And he sat front row as Steve Bilsky nailed "The Shot" to clinch the Big Five championship against Villanova.

In fact, many of those memories were recorded in a weekly column he wrote about Penn athletics. It was typically called the The 100-Line Dash (but the title fluctuated with the story's length). The DP was my father's window into the larger Penn community, a fun soapbox to voice his opinion, and an integral part of his Penn experience.

It has also been an important part of mine.

Sergeant Hall is now a parking lot, but for the past four years, I have been making the trek to the "new" DP offices on the corner of 40th and Walnut streets. Technology has significantly improved, though to most editors' dismay, final deadline now looms much later. And the DP has similarly allowed me to watch first-hand and report the events shaping our campus and our lives.

In my four years at Penn, the campus has seen an unprecedented wave of construction. Samson Common, Wynn Common, the Freshgrocer and Huntsman Hall are just a few of the projects that have sprouted up.

As a DP reporter, I listened to administrators champion the opening of a new University bookstore, two 24-hour greasy spoons, a Stephen Starr hotspot and even a half-built Redfordless movie theater that, word has it, just might come online next school year.

Campus life, too, has changed with the advent of the college house system -- though not as profoundly as many administrators would have you believe. Despite the prevalence of student apathy, I'll certainly remember the issues that struck a chord with many Penn students. The images of bongo-playing sweatshop protesters in President Rodin's office, the inebriated masses gathered on College Green to protest the administration's stringent alcohol policy and, of course, the devastating, but unifying, feelings that gripped campus in the aftermath of Sept. 11.

The DP has also given me plenty of sports memories. Although in a different context, names like Bilsky (Penn's athletic director) and Pottruck (the donor for the new fitness center) figure prominently. But so have the championship teams of Michael Jordan and Gavin Hoffman.

In many ways, I think the DP has given me a special connection with my father and to this University. Our shared experience -- and addiction -- has provided hours of conversations and a sense of history, tradition and pride that my mother simply cannot grasp.

Growing up I used to relish hearing stories of my father's college experience and reading his articles in the bound volumes that sit in our garage. But while sucked into the black hole known as the DP during my Penn experience, I've been able to create my own memories -- and write my own stories.

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