"No shit!", commented Greg Morris, one of the kids who had quit.
"Yeah, no shit. We handled the in-house problem. Have any of you heard what happened last night?" Technically, the meeting was secret, but somebody must have said something to somebody else. There were both some shrugs and some nods around the room. "The three guys who did it, Boris, the Hammer, and Mike, are all gone. By tomorrow they'll have moved out. The Hammer is already gone and Boris and Mike were packing as we came over here. That kind of behavior is simply unacceptable."
There were a few shocked looks around the room, including on the face of Greg. I suspected some of these guys figured we would sweep it under the rug. "To you guys, I am simply saying we're sorry, both as a fraternity and as individuals. We failed you. You trusted us and we failed in that trust. All I can do now is apologize and ask for your forgiveness. Some of you have said you don't want to be part of us anymore. I understand that; I truly do. I am asking you to forgive us and join us. Make us better than we obviously are."
Greg looked at me. "Why are you doing this? You weren't even around, and you won't be there next year anyway. Why do you care?"
I nodded. "That's a fair question. No, I wasn't here, and no, I won't be coming back. I could duck this and say it wasn't my fault and let sleeping dogs lie. On the other hand, I'm the Chancellor. I ran for this office and then I held my hand on a Bible and swore an oath to do the damn job and now I have to deal with this shit." I looked around the room at all the kids. "In three years, one of you guys is going to be the Chancellor." There were some murmurs at this, and I smiled. "Yeah, one of you guys is going to be the Chancellor. The rest of us are going to be long gone and history, and some asshole is going to dump something shitty in your lap. Just remember how you signed up for the job and don't run away from it."
I finished by saying, "That's pretty much it. We're sorry. We fucked up. Give us a second chance. Someday you'll be recruiting new brothers. Learn from us and be better than us, and make us better by joining us now!" I stood up and went to each of the pledges and shook his hand and thanked him for coming and apologized personally. Then I grabbed the two big brothers whose pledges had refused to come, and we went and tracked them down over in Hall Hall. One talked to me in his room, the other refused to talk.
Ultimately, four of the six rejoined us, including Greg, the pledge who had quizzed me in the lounge. One in the lounge didn't join us, and the guy who refused to see me didn't come back. Eight new pledges would have been a problem. Twelve gave them a decent chance of staying alive. It still wasn't over, however. Two weeks later the issue came alive again.
It was the last house meeting before Hell Week, and we needed to do the final vote to approve the twelve incoming pledges. This is generally a pro forma sort of affair. The Pledge Master says a name and the box gets passed around the circle. By now everybody knows these guys, and the box just gets sent along. Seniors and crones don't even vote, especially if they aren't coming back the following year. 'You assholes can pick out your own assholes to live with!' is the general motto. About the only guy who even votes, if anybody does, is their big brother, to throw a symbolic white ball.
This meeting was no different, and the first pledge's name happened to be Greg Morris. His name was announced and the box started around the room, starting at the right hand side, where it was mostly sophomores sitting. It kept going, hand to hand, with nobody doing anything, almost up until the end, when Jim Easton ostentatiously took it, reached inside, and dropped a ball in. Most of us just stared at him, including his fellow crones. Jim was finishing up a five year engineering masters program and wouldn't be back next year. He was going against all tradition in voting.
Buddy Ebbits, the Pledge Master took the box at the end of the line and looked inside, and then set it down on the table in front of me. Inside was a single black ball, and you could hear people around the council table gasping. I motioned them with my hands to stay silent. Buddy was ashen faced. This had never occurred in memory of anybody in the house, or even of any of the alumni who occasionally wandered through.
I slowly turned my head over to where Easton was sitting, smirking at me. "Do you really want to do this?", I asked.
"Fuck you, Buckman. Record the vote."
"I'm guessing this is your vote for the rest of them, too?"
"Fuck you. Figure it out on your own."
I nodded briefly and then looked over at Billy, the Scrivener. "Record the vote as Passed." The vote could be either Passed or Not Passed.
There was an immediate uproar as Easton demanded, "How dare you!? You can't do this! It's against the rules!" A number of the other crones and Dregs protested as well.
I waited for the hubbub to die down, and then asked, "Why are you doing this, Jim?"
"I'm doing it for Boris and Mike and the Hammer. You shouldn't have thrown them out! Fuck you, Buckman. Live with it!"
I just shook my head. "Jim, don't do this. They were my friends, too. You and Boris brought me into this house, remember? And Mike and I became polar bears after dueling for my fiancé. Remember that? Don't end it all like this."
"I'll end it the way I fucking want to! Fuck it!"
I just nodded. "So be it." I dropped my gavel and said, "We're going to change things. We're voting these guys in as a group, all at once. I vote 'Passed'. How about you, Mark?" I turned to the Exchequer, a junior.
He looked glum, but nodded and said, "Passed."
I turned my head towards the Provost, also a junior, and he just nodded and said, "Passed."
I turned to Billy, our Scrivener. "Billy?"
"Is this legal?", he asked me quietly.
"It's as legal as we say it is. Now, who's running this place, you and your brothers, or somebody who'd rather burn the house down around your head?"
Easton started yelling "Fuck you, Buckman!" from the corner, as hands held him in his chair.
Billy looked very nervous, but he said, "Passed.", loud enough for everyone to hear.
I turned to my right and looked at Bruno. He didn't look happy, but on the other hand, he had skipped the vote, since he was moving out as well. "You going to make it unanimous, Bruno?"
"This isn't right, Carl."
"And this is?", I asked, hooking my thumb over my shoulder at Easton. More curses came my way.
Bruno looked over at Jim and some of the others. He and they all lived over in Grogans', and there were some angry faces. "I don't like it."
"I'm not asking you to like it. I'm asking you to do the right thing. You know it's the right thing. It's just not the easy thing."
"You're a sanctimonious prick, Buckman, you know that?"
I sighed. "I am many things. I am certainly a prick. I'm not all that sanctimonious, but I am a prick. Passed or Not Passed?"
"Passed, damn you!"
There seemed to be a collective sigh of relief from around the room, along with some shouting from the crones and Dregs. "Mark them all down as Passed, Billy."
Jim Easton stood up and stormed out of the room, vowing to have nothing to do with us the rest of the year. He didn't either, eating leftovers after dinner and skipping out on Hell Week and initiation. I didn't much care at that point. The rest of the crones stayed away from any future meetings as well, and I don't think the incoming pledge class had any idea how close they had all come to being dropped at the last minute. At our last house meeting of the year, during elections for the coming year, when the new brothers attended their first meeting, I simply stood up and told them to run it better than we had. Hell, they couldn't do any worse.