Exploring the Purple Jesus mystery

Author: Kelly Janis

If you happened to observe figures in purple, Jesus-esque robes wandering about campus in the wee hours of Saturday morning, raving about an enigmatic, purple punch, fear not: you enjoyed a chance encounter with a denizen of the Mill's infamous Purple Jesus Party.

While it may be easy to find the mayhem, applying any logic to one of the most well-known parties at Middlebury is a more demanding task. But what exactly is Purple Jesus?

The party's origins are enshrouded by a carefully cultivated mystique. To begin delving into the mystery, The Campus went straight to the party's host - the Mill. Most students gathered in the Mill's basement shortly before the party's start, nonchalantly shrugging off proddings into its history.

"Well, purple's our house color," Mill member Danielle Rose '07 clarified.

"[The party is] the earliest running house tradition," alumnus Jay McDonald explained. "It's been around since the early nineties, at the foundation of the Mill. It's our annual holiday. It's so the Mill can show its true character to Middlebury College. It's like an open house." But the question remains, what about the party's name?

"Well, the name is based on the birth of the Lord," Rose corrected. "But, also, on the drink, and the house."

"The [Mill's] mission statement is that we're open to all people of all walks of life," McDonald clarified. "Anyone who wants to be a part of the Mill can be a part of the Mill. We respect diversity and open sexuality."

"Just like Jesus did," added Rose. But does the Purple Jesus carry religious connotations?

Rose shrugged. "Well, I think you'll just have to figure that out."

As the party went on, it quickly became evident that the Mill members were deliberately tight-lipped when speaking of the event's underpinnings. "We all feel a little uncomfortable with having a Campus article discuss a house tradition that we as Mill members maintain every year," Rose admitted. "The history of the event, although clearly relevant to an article, is personal to us as members and we would like to keep it that way in order to uphold the sanctity of the event."

So The Campus was in tough territory. When those in charge will not give definitive answers, a good reporter must head to the streets! In the geography of a Mill party, the place for conversation is the front stoop. It seemed, sadly, that the many partygoers appeared arguably less concerned with matters of sanctity. The focus of their shouts in The Campus's direction pivoted largely on the infamous alcoholic beverage served to students of age in attendance at the event. Speculation as to its contents abound.

A Purple Jesus attendee, Britt Neuhaus '07 stated, "I heard it's Kool-Aid. And [the punch has] gone down in quality."

"I heard it's the blood of Christ," added Zach Maxwell '07, providing his own colorful interpretation of the elusive drink.

A Mill member, James Gorski '07.5, when cornered and forced to respond to The Campus's inquisition insisted that the punch is "a mixture of love and Satan."

The lack of answers from the shouting masses and Mill members led to another frustration. By the time a band headed up by house member Luke Woods '07 finished its set, the party's distinctive character seemed to have eroded, replaced, instead, by the commotion, disarray and uniformity which inevitably results from hundreds of college students packed into a rather less-than-spacious basement. Pushing, shoving, general disarray and sweaty confusion ensued.

"Wait, is this the Purple Jesus party?!" an attendee shouted, awestruck and a bit confused, above the fray.

In the aftermath, Rose, while pleased with the fact that "it seems like everybody had a good time," was disappointed by the lack of regard exhibited for her home and its members' personal belongings.

"We love throwing parties and having friends over, but we do not like feeling abused and disrespected by the people who attend," she said. "Several students were caught stealing from our kitchen during the party. Personal items of house members were taken, including a digital camera."

"It is a Canon and has the last six months of my life on it," added Brett Foreman '07, the camera's owner. "I am wearing a purple jumpsuit and a mustache in the last frame … if someone could return it to the Mill, no questions [would be] asked."

After a serious and in-depth investigation, The Campus, while closer to an understanding of Purple Jesus's origins, ultimately remains in the dark. The Purple Jesus extravaganza will live on, but will continue to be shrouded in an air of elusiveness, its meanings unknown to everyone but its original creators.