Doubts over the safety of Minard
Written by Janae Hagen Friday, 15 January 2010 08:00
It was impossible not to be aware of the weight of three stories worth of bricks and steel walking into the east door of Minard Hall and descending down towards the psychology department on Tuesday.
The eerie feeling intensified when I saw the makeshift plywood and plastic covering much of the hallway. Up a floor, two divider doors with a gap in the middle were what separated the flow of hundreds of students from the gaping hole on the north side of the building.
Nearly all of my classes this semester are in Minard. In fact, nearly all of my classes the past four years have been in the building. It’s the largest classroom building in North Dakota and was destined to be even larger, until its structural snafu over break.
Minard was poised to be a building that would allow students to walk through three different eras, once completed, while taking a warm shortcut to T-lot. As a student, I don’t find that endearing, I find it disturbing.
In fact, I’m quite unnerved by the idea of Minard being as opened up as it is in the first place. Classes are still being held in the oldest section, just a few yards from the barricade. Yet, the building isn’t even secure enough for some departments to access their offices in parts of the building that remain intact.
Although I have full faith and confidence that NDSU would never put its students, staff or faculty in danger, the whole situation still has an ominous aura about it.
In addition, my knowledge of engineering or architecture is limited to almost nothing, so I have no choice but to believe the authorities when they say the building is secured.
But my common sense is telling me that a crumbling building with a huge hole butted up against it doesn’t exemplify safety.
I wasn’t alone in speculating the soundness of the structure. In all of my classes, my peers were joking around about wearing hard hats or expressing genuine concern about what could happen if the building in fact wasn’t as safe as we were told.
My professors masked any frustration they may have had with being office-less or getting moved into a makeshift home with dry humor that usually accompanies such predicaments as a Christmas blizzard or record spring flood, for example.
I am sad to see my campus home begin to crumble and send my sincere regards to those whose offices are currently being disheveled by the relentless northwest winds.
However, Minard just may be a metaphor for what’s really going on at NDSU. By trying to build something brand new right up against something so old, the foundation just couldn’t take it.
NDSU has grown exponentially the past few years, and some areas of campus have managed to keep up. Others have not. The library is drowning in debt and an outdated building, class sizes have grown faster than the number of professors in certain departments, and some classrooms (as in old Minard) have been in dire need of repair for years now.
Perhaps it’s time for NDSU to look at how it can fix what it already has before being so concerned about adding on.
Education ought to be the cornerstone of any university. I think it’s a bit odd that hundreds of students are continuing to get educated this semester by a building whose cornerstone has quite literally crumbled.
Janae is a senior studying journalism.
