A participant in the 2014 Mod 500 tricycle relay around the Mod pathways.

Photo: Caitlin Cunningham

It's a Mod, Mod World

From backyard BBQs and matching Mod sweats to mud volleyball and the annual Modstock concerts, a look back at fifty years of everyone鈥檚 favorite temporary housing.

鈥奍鈥檇 never heard of the Mods until I arrived on the 艾可直播 College campus for orientation in the summer of 1994. 鈥淲hat鈥檚 up with these little houses?鈥 I asked, as my classmates and I walked through lower campus. 鈥淭hat鈥檚 where the seniors live,鈥 a fellow incoming freshman said. 鈥淭hat鈥檚 where you want to be.鈥

The prefab, two-story Mods (short for modular housing) were installed in 1970, and they鈥檝e developed a certain mystique, both because they are somewhat exclusive鈥攖here鈥檚 room for only 438 seniors to live there, about a fifth of the class鈥攁nd an epicenter of campus culture. Being a Mod resident carries with it a certain cachet. Sure, you get in through sheer luck, but the perception has always been that people who live in the Mods are part of a special club. As one friend used to say鈥攚ithout a whiff of hyperbole鈥斺淓verything happens in the Mods.鈥

So, despite the fact that they were small and dingy, there wasn鈥檛 a single person I knew who didn鈥檛 want to call one of the ruddy-brown huts home. You could score a Mod only by selecting five potential roommates and then hoping your number was drawn in the annual housing lottery. As the drawing rolled around during my senior year, I remember classmates saying little prayers, hoping divine intervention would deliver them into the Mods. When fate inevitably denied a space to the majority of us, there was heartache.

I recall a post-lotto conversation with one of my disappointed roommates. He was a legacy who鈥檇 basically grown up on campus, attending football, basketball, and hockey games. For Bryan, applying to BC was preordained, a no-brainer. And the way he saw it, Mod living was practically a birthright. 鈥淚 always envisioned that that鈥檚 where I鈥檇 live,鈥 he said. 鈥淚 was devastated.鈥

Just how beloved are the Mods? In his 2002 Commencement address, the former NATO ambassador Nicholas Burns 鈥78 mentioned exactly one BC building: the Mod where he had lived (36A). After his speech, Burns made only a couple of stops on campus. One of them was a visit to 36A.

When the Mods opened, they were intended as temporary housing. Half a century later, it is difficult to imagine the Heights without them.


#ModMemories

What makes the Mods鈥 story doubly fascinating is their inauspicious beginning. In 1970, BC was facing a housing crisis. Earlier that year, the first women had matriculated, and the university was in the middle of a transformation from a predominantly commuter school to a residential one. There simply wasn鈥檛 enough housing on campus to accommodate the influx of new students. Plans to build a large dorm had fallen through, so administrators came up with a short-term solution: situate forty-three prefabricated modular duplexes on lower campus. Each duplex had two 1,100-square-foot units鈥擜 and B鈥攚ith room for six seniors in each unit, plus patios and yards. They were supposed to be in place for only five years or so and then be razed to make way for new dorms.

Heights clipping

Photos: Courtesy of The Heights

When installation day came in early September 1970, Jim Lewis 鈥72, MA鈥75, and his roommates were there. They were set to live in the very first unit. 鈥淲e watched the crane lift Mod 1A off the flatbed and hover it about 20 feet over the pad,鈥 said Lewis, who lives in Southborough, Massachusetts. 鈥淎nd then the chain broke. The Mod fell and smashed and splintered. Toilets were smashed, the doors were smashed.鈥 Lewis was horrified at first. 鈥淎nd then we just started laughing, thinking it was the funniest thing we鈥檇 ever seen,鈥 he said. (The Heights memorialized the mishap with a strip of photos in the September 15, 1970, issue.)

The Mods鈥攊ncluding a new 1A鈥攚ere gradually trucked onto campus, and though some students were able to move in at the end of October, a plumbers鈥 strike, bad weather, and faulty pipe fittings delayed full occupancy until December. While they waited, Lewis and everybody else who was supposed to reside in the Mods were instead shuttled to nearby hotels. (Two intrepid students, Bill Cagney 鈥72 and Tom Gibbons 鈥72, even pitched a tent behind Shaw House, according to The Heights.) Despite the initial hiccups, the Mods proved a fast success. 鈥淭hey had living rooms, kitchens, separate bedrooms. They were appealing because they were little apartments,鈥 said Professor James O鈥橳oole 鈥72, the Clough Millennium Chair of History and the author of a forthcoming history of 艾可直播 College. 鈥淭he primary alternative were two-person cells on upper campus.鈥

Even as new dorms with modern conveniences sprung up, seniors continued to opt for the cramped spaces with the paper-thin walls. 鈥淵ou could talk through them,鈥 Lewis recalled. 鈥淵ou could have entire conversations with the people in the Mod next door.鈥澨

From the very beginning, the Mods were the on-campus party scene. Since they were mostly occupied by seniors living in close proximity (an occasional junior would slip into the mix), and since BC lacked a Greek system, each building became a mini fraternity or sorority. 鈥淲e had a lot of theme parties,鈥 said Lewis, who recalls stocking the fridge with white听Liebfraumilch听wine for one German bash.听

BC students aren鈥檛 the only ones who partake in the festivities, either. Tell an alum from another New England university that you went to BC, and they鈥檙e likely to respond, 鈥淚 partied in the Mods once.鈥 There have even been celebrity revelers. My sophomore year, Adam Sandler did a show at Conte Forum. After his set, he hopped into a limo and made his way to Mary Ann鈥檚, where one of the seniors persuaded him to come back to campus. Sandler鈥檚 driver took him to Mod 23B, where the comedian played pool and drank beers until the wee hours. As a sophomore, I wasn鈥檛 frequenting Mod parties鈥攂ut this one I could鈥檝e attended. One of my roommates鈥 cousins lived in 23B, and I remember the sinking feeling when I found out I鈥檇 missed my chance to throw a few back with Opera Man.

Three 6A residents wearing their Mod sweatshirts

Each year, students vote on a slogan for the official Mod sweatshirts. Clockwise from left, former Mod 6A residents Sarah Marchese 鈥20, Kaelin Bush 鈥20, and Natalie Hoy 鈥20 show off last year's version, which proclaimed: 鈥淭he Mods: Permanently Temporary Since 1971.鈥 (When the duplexes opened in 1970, the Class of 1971 were the first seniors to live in them.)
Photo: Peter Julian

But the parties, of course, are only a small part of what makes the Mods special. The communal spirit is evident in events like the Mod 500, a costumed, fundraising tricycle race around the Mod pathways, and Modstock, an annual spring concert that鈥檚 attracted well-known performers such as Ludacris, T-Pain, Guster, and Macklemore. Each year, inhabitants vote on the slogan that will emblazon Mod sweatshirts. And, oh, the patios. Nothing made me more envious of Mod dwellers than the scent of burgers wafting through lower campus on warm spring days as the residents sprawled in beach chairs or tossed footballs in their yards.听

Then there was the winter when students flooded the courtyard between Mods to create a skating rink. And the friends who lived in adjacent A and B units and cut a hole in the downstairs wall, turning the units into one big twelve-person pad. Ryan Robinson 鈥99 and his roommates, meanwhile, found an even more creative way to alter Mod 6A. 鈥淲e tossed around the idea of either painting the Alumni Stadium football field or Conte Forum on the downstairs ceiling,鈥 Robinson recalled. 鈥淲e ended up going with the hockey rink. We went to Conte and took a look at it and got some information about the dimensions of the circles and the line placement. There was some math involved. Half of my roommates were computer science guys so they were into that.鈥 It took three weeks to complete the Kelley Rink mural鈥斺淭he worst part was watching them paint it over when we moved out,鈥 Robinson said.


Modstock Through the Years

Modstock鈥攖he annual spring concert held in the Mod Lot鈥攊s a relatively recent tradition. Here are just a few of the big-name artists who鈥檝e helped students celebrate the end of classes over the years (remember Sugar Ray?).

ModStock highlighted headliners

FROM LEFT: Guster in 2005, Big Boi in 2009, Sugar Ray in 2011, Macklemore in 2013, T-Pain in 2016, Chelsea Cutler in 2019. Photos: (from left) Alamy; Terje Dokken; Andy Martin Jr./Zuma; Ricky Fitchett/Zuma; Alamy; Thomas Rasmussen/Gonzales Photo




Fresh paint isn鈥檛 all the Mods get after a senior class departs. They鈥檙e constantly upgraded with new cabinets, new appliances, and new carpets. 鈥淲e put a lot of effort into these units,鈥 said Jamie MacDonald, the construction project manager at BC. 鈥淲e know how loved they are.鈥

Still, new, more space-efficient buildings and construction have encroached on the enclave over the years, reducing the total number of units from 86 to 76. After the University announced it would eliminate six units in 1992 to make room for Corcoran Commons and Vanderslice Hall, seniors inundated the president鈥檚 office with letters and phone calls, contacted local media, and organized an all-night sit-in near the ill-fated dwellings. Though their efforts didn鈥檛 prevent demolition, they did delay it until after Commencement that year. Four additional units were removed in the early 2000s.

It seems that everyone鈥檚 favorite temporary houses are safe for now: 鈥淭here are no plans in the immediate future for removing the Mods,鈥 said Greg Jones, director of housing operations. But if the Mods eventually do meet the wrecking ball, it will be a shame. Though I missed out on living in one, I spent lots of 1998 in their tight confines. If I close my eyes, I can still smell the stale beer and hear the bad late-鈥90s music turned up loud enough to shake the stuffed, sweaty building. And I can鈥檛 imagine BC without that.听鈼


More Memories from the Mods