With friends like these…creeking was inevitable
November 1997. Derthick Hall, Milligan College*, TN.
Christy and I are sitting next to each other in Reformation of the 19th Century, a class about the Restoration Movement+ taught by the much-beloved Mr. Helsebeck. With about ten minutes left in class, I’ll confess that I was mentally checked-out. It was cold and damp. It was early in the morning. I was ready for a break before Spanish 101.
OK. If we’re being completely honest, I was pretty distracted by that girl sitting next to me. It had been a few weeks since we’d gotten engaged and I was pretty smitten with her. Still am, but that’s not the point of this story. So I’m mentally checked out of class and a little bit distracted when someone walks into our room and interrupts the class.
“Excuse me,” the student said as he stood in the doorway. “The Registrar needs to see Matt Todd, please.”
That didn’t make any sense. I was already registered for next semester. Why on earth would the Registrar need to see me? I was a bit befuddled as I walked across the room and out the door.
I turned the corner and met a group of friends and associates. As soon as I saw them I knew what was happening. I didn’t need to see the small hint of victory in their eyes. And I didn’t need to hear their sinister laughter. They had caught me. I knew exactly what was happening.
I was about to get creeked
Creeking is a time-honored tradition at Milligan. I don’t know how the tradition started. From what I’ve gathered by asking professors who had been part of the Milligan community for decades, nobody# knows how the tradition started. But it’s a celebration of a couple’s engagement. If I remember correctly, early practice involved throwing the happy couple into a fountain that was on campus. By the time Christy and I were engaged, it involved throwing the newly-engaged guy into Buffalo Creek itself while his fiancée watched safely while creekside.
Nobody really wants to be thrown in Buffalo Creek. So this usually requires some type of a surprise..
A creeking in the snow
I remember one evening during my sophomore year we surrounded a friend of ours and carried him through campus while the snow started to fall. We finally reached Buffalo Creek and were about to throw him in when a cop pulled over and yelled at us, “Hey! What are you doing? Don’t throw him in there!”
“It’s OK. He’s fine with us doing it, Officer,” a friend replied. “It’s one of our school traditions. We have to throw him in the creek because he just got engaged.”
The officer looked at us like this was the most ridiculous thing he’d heard all week. It probably was. “Can’t you just sprinkle some water on him, or something?”
“Oh, we can’t do that,” the friend responded. “We don’t believe in sprinkling.” You’re supposed to chuckle here. It’s funny because a hallmark of the Restoration Movement is the belief in baptism by immersion (“dunking”) only.
Oh, man. Christian college student humor.
“Well, it’s too cold tonight. Don’t you see the snow? Don’t throw him in,” the officer ordered.
We complied. But he was thrown into the creek a few weeks later. No one could escape their creeking.
A creeking in front of the whole school
Another friend of mine got engaged during our senior year and he thought he could outsmart us and avoid his creeking. We decided to wait. And wait. And wait some more. After a few months, he believed we had forgotten. But we hadn’t.
Every Tuesday morning, we attended a school-wide chapel service. After one of the last services of his final semester at Milligan, a bunch of us walked up to him, grabbed him, and paraded him in front of the whole school. Many underclassmen joined us as we carried him down Seeger Hill, past the Post Office, and to the banks of Buffalo Creek. We tossed him high in the air and Splash! – a successful, memorable, surprising creeking.
A creeking after class
Every instinct in my body said I should run away. I could outrun some of them. And I was stronger than those who were faster than me. But then what? They’d just catch me some other time. Yeah, it was cold and damp that day. But they could’ve waited until a real snowstorm hit. That would’ve been awful. I knew this day was coming. I just didn’t know when. No need to delay the inevitable.
Because creeking was inevitable.
So I resigned myself to the fact that I was about to have a very cold experience as they picked me up and carried me. There was at least two guys on each leg, a few guys holding my shoulders, and probably someone holding my head. Several other guys walked along with us, ready to jump in if I decided to make a run for it.
They got me outside of Derthick Hall when I realized I had on some relatively expensive shoes. I asked them to let me take my shoes off. They agreed.
Then I asked someone to take my wallet. Last thing I wanted was a soaking wet wallet. Been there. Done that. It’s not fun. I needed for them to let me stand up so I could take my wallet out of my back pocket. They hesitated.
“I won’t run away from you. I promise. Why would I? You have my shoes.”
They eventually agreed. I remember I put my foot down in the mud. It was cold as it squished through my socks and between my toes. It was not pleasant.
I put up a fight
I allowed them to pick me back up when I had a revelation. Creeking was inevitable. But I didn’t have to just let them do it. As they were carrying me, I started to swing my legs in what can best be described as a scissors-type motion. This made the guys holding my legs swerve as they tried to hold on to me. You know where they swerved? Into each other.
Yeah, they could have dropped me. That would have been a problem as they crossed the Hopwood Christian Church parking lot. But I didn’t care. My destiny was predetermined. I was going to get wet. But they weren’t going to take me without a fight.
So I’m swinging my legs. They’re bumping into each other. And we’re slowly making our way creekside. A small crowd has gathered and Christy is watching, as all good fiancées do when there’s a creeking afoot. There was still part of my brain that was scrambling to try to figure out a way to get out of this mess.
Nothin’.
They got me to the edge of Buffalo Creek and I started to question my captors’ collective strength. While the creek is a decent depth at its center, it’s a rather gentle slope to get to that depth. Now, I’m not a small man. I wasn’t a small man then, either. If they didn’t throw me out far enough…well…that would’ve hurt.
I tried to relax as they started to swing my body in an attempt to build momentum. “One…two…three!”
They let go
As I flew out above Buffalo Creek, I tried to will myself into the air, desperately hoping that they tossed me far enough. And before I knew it, I’d had my creeking. I was cold. And wet. And my sweater felt like it weighed a million pounds – I don’t know why I didn’t think to take that off before they threw me in. I wound up skipping Spanish that day so I could try to warm up. The next time I was in that class, I had to try to explain to my professor – in Spanish – why I had skipped. “¿ Cómo se dice ‘I was creeked’ en español?”
I was now part of a long line of Milligan students who had participated in a time-honored tradition. I’m sure I’m not the only guy who had both looked forward to and dreaded his creeking at the same time. But with life-long friends like those you find at a place like Milligan, my creeking was inevitable.
Was it worth it? Well, I’m still smitten with Christy more than 20 years later.
Yeah.
Totally worth it.
Endnotes
*Ahem…It’s Milligan University now. But it was most definitely Milligan College when I attended. Either way, Go Buffs!
+Also known as the Stone-Campbell Movement. Known for its three branches of church affiliations (although one of its pillars is the pursuit of Christian unity…but don’t get me started on that…): the noninstrumental churches of Christ, the “independent” Christian churches/churches of Christ, and the Disciples of Christ denomination. Yeah. We’re kind of a big dysfunctional family. But so was the early church, if you were paying attention.
# If you know, please tell me. I’d love to know how this long-standing tradition began.
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