Tour Audio di Ames: Storie di Cicloni e Leggende del Campus Svelate

Take a good look at Morrill Hall rising before you-doesn’t it look like the kind of building with stories to tell? Let’s hop back to 1891. Imagine wagons rumbling along, workers bustling around, and the smell of fresh-cut stone filling the air. They built this entire hall for less than $30,000-can you believe it? These days, that wouldn’t even get you a parking spot on campus! Justin Smith Morrill, the building’s namesake, is the reason Iowa State exists as a land-grant college. The exterior stonework even lists ‘library,’ ‘museum,’ and ‘chapel’-its original triple purpose-so if these walls could talk, they’d have quite a few tales to tell. There’s a twist, though. In the 1990s, Morrill Hall became unsafe-a little too historic for comfort. It emptied out in 1996, and while everyone waited to see its fate, it made the National Register of Historic Places that same year-fancy, right? Fast forward to 2005, when the community rallied and raised $9 million to bring Morrill Hall back to life, this time as the Christian Petersen Art Museum. Oh, and those odd chimneys at each corner? They’re for natural ventilation, not smoke. Just goes to show, even the chimneys here have a breath of fresh air!

You’re now standing in front of the Iowa State University Campanile, the most iconic tower on campus-after all, who wouldn’t want to say they went to a school with its very own castle for bells? Just take a moment to listen-maybe you hear the soft peal of carillon bells carried on the breeze. This beautiful tower, standing 110 feet tall on a humble 16 by 16 foot base, is more than just a landmark: it’s the heart and soul-or should I say, the ringing voice-of Iowa State University. Let’s wind the clock back to the late 1800s. Imagine the Central Campus in 1897-a time without smartphones and WiFi, but with plenty of spirit. Edgar W. Stanton, a professor and member of the first graduating class, was deeply in love with his wife, Margaret MacDonald Stanton. She was the university’s first dean of women, a true pioneer who helped shape the community. Tragically, Margaret passed away in 1895, and Edgar wanted to create something beautiful in her memory-something that would resonate for generations. Working alongside university president William M. Beardshear, he chose this very spot, just north of what would become the Memorial Union, to build a lasting tribute. Construction finished in 1897 for the grand price of $6,510.20-nowadays, that wouldn’t get you a fancy bike rack! But with those funds, the Campanile rose to its full height, and in 1899, Edgar added the heart of the structure: the first ten bells of what would become the famous Stanton Memorial Carillon. Each of these original bells carries a unique inscription, carefully chosen by Edgar to honor his beloved Margaret. Over the years, time-and love-added more bells. When Edgar passed away in 1920, his estate funded 26 new bells to be added in his own memory. Later gifts brought the number to 50, each one a voice in this mighty choir. The heaviest bell weighs a thundering 5,737 pounds. When all the bells ring together, the carillon weighs nearly 30 tons. I guess you could say the Campanile’s got... “heavy metal” running in its veins! Always a campus centerpiece, the Campanile’s bells have marked the quarter-hours with the classic “Westminster Quarters” melody, sending music drifting across the lawns and lecture halls. On quiet nights, students have even heard their echoes weaving through the trees. But it hasn’t always been smooth ringing! In 1991, budget woes threatened to silence the bells for good after Professor Richard von Grabow’s retirement. Enter Ames’ own radio DJ, Kenn McCloud-a local hero with a dramatic flair. He barricaded himself inside the Campanile and declared he wouldn’t leave until the community pitched in $10,000 to hire a guest carillonneur. The “Bucks for Bells” campaign swept through town, students, alumni, and faculty rallied, and McCloud emerged victorious five days later. Now that’s what I call a sound investment! Donations soared when ISU alumnus Thomas Sutherland, recently freed from captivity, told the world how much the bells meant to him during his years in Lebanon. His words inspired a surge of support-including a whopping $1 million anonymous donation-ensuring the bells would sing on for generations. The Campanile underwent major renovations in the early 1990s, including everything from bell upgrades to brand new air conditioning for the playing cabin. Talk about VIP treatment for a tower! Tradition runs deep here. According to campus folklore, you’re not a true Iowa Stater until you’ve been kissed right beneath the Campanile at midnight. During Homecoming or VEISHEA, hundreds-even thousands-of students gather for a “Mass Campaniling.” It’s the only time you might get kissed and become a legend at the same time! So if you hear the bells ring out at noon or on a cool autumn night, remember you’re part of a chorus that stretches over a century-and if you haven’t kissed anyone under the Campanile yet, well, your true Iowa Stater status is just waiting for you to pucker up.

This sturdy brick structure was once at the heart of a grand experiment: Iowa Agricultural College’s “Model Farm,” a sort of master class in how to run a farm right. As you look at the brickwork, keep in mind that these bricks were made from clay dug up nearby. In 1909, the bricks started to give up during the Iowa freeze-thaw routine, so they were coated in tough limestone stucco-like giving the house a coat of old-school armor. Over the years, this house welcomed some real agricultural VIPs-no, I’m not talking about cows with blue ribbons. Seaman A. Knapp, later famous for teaching Southern farmers all about rice growing, supervised fields and students while living here in the 1880s. The Knapp-Wilson House gets its full name because James Wilson, who later became THE longest-serving U.S. Secretary of Agriculture in history, made this his family home in the 1890s. There’s a good chance important 19th-century debates about corn and politics happened right behind those windows. Farm House isn’t without its own tall tales. Local legend claims it was once a stop on the Underground Railroad, with a secret cubby for hiding runaways. Turns out, that cubby was only built in the 1890s-so it’s a good spot for hide-and-seek, but not for history. After Wilson, Charles Curtiss moved in, settling his family here for over five decades-let’s just say they really got their deposit’s worth. After Curtiss’ passing, Home Economics took over for a year, probably making the best cookies the Farm House ever saw. Then in 1949, Dean Floyd Andre made a stand to save this building, leading call after call to preserve it while the university grew around it. Forty years after the first foundation brick was laid, the Farm House had watched the campus unfurl all around it, and following years of determined effort, it officially opened as a museum on July 4th, 1976-just in time for America’s big birthday party. Today, it’s a living snapshot of Iowa State’s agricultural story, right down to its restored 1910s look. Wouldn’t you agree it’s great that they decided to keep the house instead of turning it into, say, the world’s most ambitious chicken coop?

You’re standing in front of the Food Sciences Building, a spot where science, art, and a dash of dairy drama come together. Now, if you ever wanted to see a place where butter and history mix, you’re in the right place! Originally known as the Dairy Industry Building, this sturdy two-story landmark has been here since 1928, built with Bedford stone by proud Iowans and designed by a team with the most architectural names ever: Proudfoot, Rawson & Souers. Over the years, wings and additions sprouted up in 1962, 1991, and 1993 - a little like adding extra scoops to your ice cream sundae. But let’s churn back in time to the 1930s, a tough era when art was as scarce as nonfat frozen yogurt. Here’s where things get really interesting. Inside and in the courtyard, you’ll find sculptures by Christian Petersen, a Danish immigrant who basically became Iowa State’s artistic superhero - and not just because he sculpted cows that would never moo at night. Thanks to a government program called the Public Works of Art Project, Petersen carved out nine bas relief panels between 1934 and 1935 - rare pieces for a Midwest campus, since most of these federally funded artworks were plunked in big coastal cities. There’s real storytelling in these panels. Just inside, you’ll spot women from different eras-one in biblical times, churning butter with a goatskin bag hanging from a tree (talk about CrossFit for the ancient world) and another pioneer woman working with an early American dash churn. In the courtyard, you’ll find a cow-centric centerpiece: three Jersey cows and a bull watch over a little fountain and reflecting pool. Look left, and you’ll see scenes of old-fashioned, hand-milking, wagon-loads of milk, churning, and cheese making. To the right, the wonders of the 1930s dairy plant roll out like an udderly impressive parade: mechanical milkers, the mighty "Babcock" tester, and even power centrifugal separators, up-to-date for their time. Professor Martin Mortensen helped Petersen get the tech details just right, and another campus mastermind, Professor Maurice Hanson, added gravel walkways and lush plantings to the courtyard-because let’s face it, even cows deserve a nice landscape. All this was overseen in Iowa by the famous painter Grant Wood-yes, the guy with the pitchfork. Who knew science, art, and a herd of cows could give us such a rich slice of Iowa State history? And if you listen closely, you just might hear a faint “moo” echoing through the ages. Don’t worry, it’s just the art. Or is it?

Take a look at the brick beauty standing before you-the Colonials Club House. Step right up and let’s travel back to the year 1910, when students at Iowa State were looking for more than just a rickety old house to call their off-campus home. Picture it: the west side of campus was the student neighborhood hotspot, but the Colonials Club, a local fraternity founded in 1908, decided it was time to shake things up, so they built their club house right here on Ash Avenue. Just imagine the sound of bricks thudding, hammers pounding, and dreams taking shape in this very spot. Before the Colonials Club House, fraternity and sorority homes were simple wooden houses, trying to pretend they were family homes. But the Colonials wanted something grand. That’s when Proudfoot & Bird, a top-notch architecture firm from Des Moines, designed what would become the very first masonry chapter house at Iowa State. The two-and-a-half-story brick structure stood out with its impressive Colonial Revival style-the style that would soon sweep across frats and sororities citywide. Talk about being a trendsetter. Is it just me, or does this house wear those four tall columns and two pilasters out front like a tuxedo on prom night? Now, let’s open the grand oak doors and take a peek inside. Imagine the front hall’s rich oak paneling, oak floors creaking as students rushed to dinner, and an inviting oak staircase winding upward. On chilly Iowa nights, a large pocket door would slide open to a living room with a cozy fireplace-more oak, of course-where debates about the meaning of life and last night’s pranks unfolded by firelight. And if you’re into a little fraternity drama, here’s a twist: even when the Colonials became part of the national Theta Delta Chi fraternity in 1919, some alum stockholders refused to join. The fate of the house hung in the balance until a new company raised $20,000 in bonds to buy and fix it up. The Ames National Bank brought $8,000 to the table, proving that even back then, a good house party could move the bank into action. Over time, the house grew. A renovation in 1920 added bigger spaces for more laughter and late-night chats, a one-story extension for the beloved house mother in 1926, and another addition in 1966. And those Greek letters-Theta Delta Chi-still parade above the entry porch, like a secret code between old friends. Maybe it’s no surprise this house landed on the National Register of Historic Places in 2012. You could say the Colonials Club House didn’t just shelter students; it changed the very face of Ames’ Fourth Ward, one brick, one tradition, and probably a few epic pillow fights at a time.

Right in front of you stands a house that has seen more parties, plot twists, and pranks than your average Netflix series. The Iowa Beta Chapter of Sigma Phi Epsilon, built way back in 1916, looks a bit like an English manor with its Tudor Revival style-think Shakespeare meets college spirit. Architect Amos B. Emery, who must’ve had a flair for the dramatic, used ornamental timber and stucco to give this house its fairytale charm. Fun fact: it’s the only building Emery designed like this, and rumor has it he never quite got all the paint out of his hair afterwards. Now, picture the 1920s-everyone dancing the Charleston, jazz drifting through those wood-paneled halls. In 1929, the brothers announced plans for a $50,000 home (which is over $900,000 today, so their fundraising must have been epic). By 1931, the place was ready for some serious fraternity life. That original main hall, with its floor-to-ceiling paneling, was grand enough to impress any visitor. On the second floor, a balcony overlooked the lounge below, perfect for orchestras at lively dances. Who knew fraternity houses could be so classy? But life in the house wasn’t always smooth: in 1943, a fire broke out and damaged the upper floors. Luckily, the building was repaired and reoccupied, but most of the brothers were off serving in World War II. The solution? Rent rooms to female students. For a brief time, the house was the scene of unprecedented co-ed camaraderie. Over the years, the house grew and changed, expanding the kitchen in 1952 and adding more bedrooms in 2010. Today, standing at 228 Gray Avenue, it’s listed on the National Register of Historic Places-a testament to nearly a century of wild stories, resilience, and community. So, don’t be surprised if the house gives you a wink as you walk by-it’s survived almost everything but a tornado made of textbooks!

Take a look around you-right now you’re standing in front of the beating heart of culture, sports, and performance in Ames: the Iowa State Center. Imagine this spot back in the mid-20th century, just grassy university farmland as far as the eye could see, and a future that was, frankly, pretty quiet. Now, picture Dr. James Hilton, the president of Iowa State University in the 1950s, gazing out over these fields. He had a big dream-why not build a place where art, athletics, and academics could all come together? It sounded almost impossible. In 1958, the ISU Foundation was born with a goal as big as Hilton’s vision: turn that farmland into the marvelous Iowa State Center you see now. Spoiler: They didn’t have any government money to work with, so every brick was funded by folks who believed in Hilton’s dream. The very first donation? Just two bucks. But hey, that was the spark! Not long after, along came C.Y. Stephens with a cool million-dollar gift, and that’s how Stephens Auditorium got its name. Let’s add some color to this place, shall we? Stretching over 76 acres-back then enough space for a stampede of cows-the Center now hums with human energy. Right ahead, Stephens Auditorium gleams, famous for its 2,747 seats and stunning events. When it opened in 1969, there was a week-long festival with the New York Philharmonic leaving the audience in awe. In fact, Stephens Auditorium was crowned the "Building of the Century" by the American Institute of Architects’ Iowa Chapter in 2004. That’s kind of like winning “Best All-Around” at a super fancy high school. Follow the pulse of the crowd to Hilton Coliseum, completed in 1971. Whether it’s an electric basketball game or a roof-raising concert, up to 15,000 people pack this place-making noise that echoes all the way down Lincoln Way! The first athletic event? A nail-biting men’s basketball match between Iowa State and Arizona, with ISU claiming victory. Take that, Arizona! Tucked closely is Fisher Theater, beloved by campus thespians. Built in 1974, this cozy stage seats just 454, the perfect size for student performances with as much drama as your last group project. Turn back time again and you’d spot Jack Trice Stadium rising up in 1975, named to honor ISU’s first African-American athlete-a hero who, tragically, gave his life competing for the school. The first game under those bright lights? A Cyclone victory over Air Force, of course. And don’t miss the sleek, modern Scheman Building. Opened in 1975, it’s hosted everything from board meetings to wedding dances. It’s also home to the Brunnier Art Museum, the state’s only accredited decorative arts collection, tucked away in a performing arts venue-because why not add a little glam to your academic conference? Standing here, you’re not just in front of a building-you’re at the crossroads of stories, ambition, and community spirit, where a couple of bucks and a bucket-load of dreams turned empty fields into the pride of Ames. Now, on to your next adventure!

So, why is it called Hilton? No, it’s not because Paris Hilton donated her shoe collection. It's named after James H. Hilton, the university president from 1953 to 1965, who dreamed up an ambitious new center for athletic and cultural events-and then made it happen. The Iowa State Center, which surrounds you now, is like Ames’ own mini-campus for sports and the arts, anchored by Hilton Coliseum, Jack Trice Stadium, and venues for music, theater, and education. Pretty good company, right? Picture the construction crew back in the early seventies, pouring truck after truck of concrete, laying down ten miles of piping for a hockey rink, and slamming steel doors designed to bottle in as much sound as possible. All of this was done to create a fortress of sports-a place where the action is so close, you can feel every bounce of the ball and every thud of the wrestler hitting the mat. The first band ever to perform in Hilton wasn’t a big-name act, but Meloncolony-a local Midwest group who played while YMCA volunteers encouraged folks to register to vote. Picture 2,300 people in here, music pounding, and political excitement in the air-200 new voters registered that night! Over the years, Hilton has hosted names like Elton John, Metallica, Prince, Cher, and even Elvis Presley. Talk about a lineup-it’s like someone made a jukebox come alive! But let’s be honest, what really makes Hilton famous is the phenomenon called Hilton Magic. Imagine a packed house, almost 15,000 fans, bouncing and echoing with anticipation. In 1989, a Des Moines Register reporter named Buck Turnbull witnessed the Cyclones stun No. 3 Missouri in a dramatic, electric upset. He wrote about Hilton Magic, and ever since, it's been the stuff of ISU legend-cyclones spinning to victory, impossible comebacks, the court practically trembling beneath the crowd. Basketball dominates here, with both men’s and women’s teams racking up wins and unforgettable moments. There have been sellout crowds for WNIT games, nail-biting victories over longtime rivals, and TV events like ESPN College Gameday. But don’t forget-this is also a home for wrestling, volleyball, gymnastics, and even a bit of hockey history. They actually put an ice rink down here once upon a time, attracting over 12,000 hockey fans at a time. That must have been cold enough to make your popcorn freeze! Wrestling’s footprint is huge, too: Hilton has hosted the NCAA championships multiple times, plus ringside drama for conference meets and national champ showdowns. Gymnastics and volleyball send the roof rattling with their own highlights-ISU teams dominating as Cyclone pride fills every corner. Of course, not all of Hilton’s history is about cheers and celebrations. Built on a floodplain, the Coliseum has seen nature’s own attempt at a comeback-floods in 1993 and 2010 sent water sweeping through. But thanks to its sturdy concrete skeleton, it dries out and returns to action faster than you can say “Hilton Magic.” Hilton’s always evolving, too. There’s been a $2.5 million sound and video upgrade, fancy new blackout lighting so every player intro is as dramatic as Broadway, and now an eye-popping 360-degree video board that wraps fans in light and color no matter where they sit. If you listen closely, you might even hear echoes of Garth Brooks or The Who belting out their greatest hits from the past. So, whether you’re here for wild basketball upsets, historic wrestling matches, legendary concerts, or just want to bask in that electrifying Hilton Magic, this arena stands as the thunderous soul of Cyclone Country. Thanks for joining me at the heart of the action-and remember, if you feel a slight tremble beneath your feet, it’s probably just another Cyclone victory in the making! To delve deeper into the overview, hilton magic or the athletic events, simply drop your query in the chat section and I'll provide more information.