A kiss. A moment that can spark a relationship. That relationship can be brief, long-lasting or the stuff of legends.The exact moment of the kiss might not be remembered, but the bond is.

The lore of Syracuse University’s Kissing Bench is just as quick, flighty and momentous. The nondescript, gray granite bench, nestled alongside the Hall of Languages, was a gift – the first from a graduating class at SU, evidenced by its simple ‘1912’ engraving on the front. 2012 marks its 100th anniversary on campus and, like someone reflecting on a birthday or a relationship, the bench’s past has and will influence the university’s present and future.

Rocky start

The legend of the Kissing Bench began inconspicuously enough. The senior class memorial committee of 1912 wanted to give a gift to the university. Other classes were memorialized with ‘statues, pictures or similar things,’ according to the March 8, 1912 issue of The Daily Orange.

But the bench’s start on campus wasn’t free of drama.

In early March of 1912, the committee decided the most appropriate gift was a simple bench between Hall of Languages and Tolley Administration Building. People could sit on this bench, which overlooked the fields surrounding the campus.

More than 200 students from the graduating class paid a tax to aid the cost. Then, the bench hit a preemptive roadblock.

In a small addendum to university rules made in June 1911, the board of trustees had to approve any motions, actions or purchases regarding the senior class gift. The only trouble was that the board wouldn’t be meeting until June. Commencement in 1912 took place on June 12.

‘The announcement comes as a severe blow to the hopes of the seniors who had hoped to carry the matter through without delay and have the bench in position before the time of graduation,’ stated a March 5, 1912 article titled ‘Snag in path of Senior Memorial Committee’ in The D.O.

Thankfully, the rule changed because of the timely circumstances. The senior committee finalized its choice of the bench, which was met with overwhelming approval, according to a March 9, 1912 edition of The D.O.

The bench made its debut on June 10.Though no one sat on the bench for the photo, Chancellor James Day, the senior committee and several faculty members posed in front of the bench.

Rumors

‘Immortality is also assured the class in the minds at least of a few unfortunate undergraduate couples who happen to be engaged.’ The D.O., March 4, 1912

The origins of the traditions that gave this distinct bench its namesake trace back to before it was even placed on campus. The quote above, referring to the bench’s imminent place on campus, appeared on the second page of the March 4 issue in the editorial section. It was written by an unnamed author and was the first mention of what would be a century-long tradition.

‘No one really knows how it began,’ said Mary O’Brien, a reference archivist at E.S. Bird Library. ‘It started somewhere and just evolved.’

In the 1950s, co-edswould kiss on the bench and hope not to grow old as spinsters. The Syracuse University Magazine of 2003 said that by the 1970s, a woman had to kiss on the bench to graduate and get married. Today’s tradition is slightly different still: If you kiss your significant other on the bench, you’ll marry and live together, happily ever after in a fairytale ending. There is a catch – if you sit on the bench alone, you will supposedly be alone for the rest of your life.

Even before the 1950s, the bench was a haunt for couples wanting to share an intimate moment.

In 1940, Keith Kennedy, SU alumnus and former faculty member, took a photo of the back of the bench. Behind the photo was a handwritten note: ‘The famous bench … where students ‘spooned’ and kissed.’

Judy O’Rourke, currently the director at the Office of Undergraduate Studies, told TheStudent Voice magazine in 2002 her guess as to how the tradition began.

‘I assume that somewhere along the line, there was someone who got proposed to,’ O’Rourke said. ‘And that’s how the legend started.’

Buried secrets

Walking past the Kissing Bench, shadowed by trees and covered by snow, many may not know what’s hidden underneath.

A copper box was placed in a concrete foundation four feetbelow the bench. Inside the airtight container were documents, according to the March 8, 1912 issue of The D.O. They included a copy of the alumni record listing previous SU students, a commencement day program, the SU seal enrobed in orange and old copies of The D.O.
When she found out about the secret treasure chest, O’Brien did more research but couldn’t find anything. Even during the renovation of the Hall of Languages, when the bench was moved off campus, there were no mentions of the hidden records.

Eric Beattie, director of campus planning, design and construction, said he couldn’t find anyone to verify the story. Calls to his predecessor, Virginia Denton of Fayetteville, N.Y., were not returned.

The documents may or may not still be buried underneath the bench. It’s another mystery that shrouds the mystic campus landmark.

Happily ever after

For Wendy Morton, her interaction with the Kissing Bench was cold and dreary.

It was after her graduation ceremony in 1989. Even though it was May, she remembered it being cold.

‘I remember my grandmother coming in from Florida, and I assured her it would be plenty warm,’ she recalled. ‘It was freezing.’

Morton, her fianc, Walt, and their families walked around campus during Morton’s last hours as an undergraduate at SU. When they neared the Kissing Bench, a spur-of-the-moment idea struck her. She turned to Walt and asked him for a kiss in front of their families, while still wearing their caps and gowns.

Though Morton knew of the mystic hold on the Kissing Bench, she didn’t think it would have much effect on her future relationship with Walt. The couple has been married for 21 years. Morton says she doesn’t think the rumor had much to do with it, since the couple got engaged her junior year.

‘We were high school sweethearts,’ she said. ‘We probably would have gotten married anyways.’

Morton, currently a family court commissioner for the Maricopa County Courthouse in Arizona, immortalized the bench and its romantic past with her children’s book, ‘Flipper & Dipper and the Treasures of 6 Bird.’ Morton, who lost a close friend in the Pan Am Flight 103 crash of 1988, intended the book to be a memorial to the Pan Am archives collection in the library.

Amid the pages recounting interesting tidbits about the university’s history is a picture of Morton and her husband smiling on the granite bench almost exactly 33 years ago.

‘I always remembered the Kissing Bench when everybody was there for graduation,’ she said. ‘We just had to kiss on the Kissing Bench. It’s one of those things we do over time.’

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Published on April 30, 2012 at 12:00 pm