One of many unique qualities that distinguish Proctor's faculty is the amount of fun we're able to have together. It's true that we can disagree over fundamental concepts or trivial details in meetings, but we love to get together for good times. In recent years, we've celebrated the start of summer with a costume party honoring a mythical character named "Lord Morton." Grown adults arrive at Morton House dressed in outrageous, formal attire to play croquet and other lawn games. We assume fictitious, pompous monikers, such as "Dame Edith Throckmorton of Wesleydale," and speak to one another with British accents. It's all very silly. This year, however, it is all different, because Morton House--the inspiration for the whole thing--is being torn down. In other words, Lord Morton is dead. You can see him in his open coffin:

Yes, this year's party was Lord Morton's funeral. Grieving attendees wrote notes in a guest book, practiced When the Saints Go Marching In on an assortment of instruments and whistles, and mimicked a New Orleans jazz processional. Here's Alan McIntyre and Josh Norris rehearsing on saxaphones as Andrew Donaldson maintains his composure.

Josh seemed to have forgotten all from his sax lessons, but proved some talent on the slide whistle.

After some last-minute repairs to the casket (on loan from the drama department) and pointless rehearsal that seemed to have no benefit, the processional began.

More than any melody, the meter of the tune identified the march as "The Saints."

Given the emotional load of the moment, (and the fact that light rain was appropriately falling,) the procession was mercifully short.

Eric Johnson brings Lord Morton's coffin back to the steps of the doomed dorm.

You might wonder, what are these nuts going to do next year, without Lord Morton to inspire this kind of shenanigans? Fear not. When you bring together a critical mass of creative crazies, magic happens!