No one building at the College of William and Mary better exemplifies the state of forgotten purgatory that comes with fast-moving modernity than the Campus Center, a relic that remains frozen in time as it teeters on the edge of abandonment. Its outdated nature is unmissable from the moment you enter its doors, whether you focus on the gutted phone booths that line the walls or the 1970s elevator that takes what feels like a full minute to bring you up one floor.
I, for one, cannot get enough of this old building.
I first discovered the Campus Center after a tip from an upperclassman friend who described it as a perfect playground for the amateur explorer thanks to its mysterious emptiness and series of maze-like hallways that never seem to take you where you want to be. After hours of wandering eerie halls and stumbling upon room after room full of ancient-looking equipment and out-of-use filing cabinets, I couldn’t help but fall in love. Each descending floor became slightly more peculiar than the last, with rooms that seemed destitute in purpose.
After that first exploratory session, I’ve returned to the Campus Center consistently throughout the semester as I chase that same high of knowing a little secret that nobody else seems to know. It’s become my clandestine study space, one of the only spots on campus where I can be secure in the knowledge that no one else could possibly disrupt my lock-in session, since I’ll be the only one there for hours. My personal favorite room, the second floor Student Organization Suite, is oddly reminiscent of a ’90s sitcom set thanks to the small standalone cubicle rooms strewn about a larger, ballroom-like space and the set of cushioned arm chairs off to the side that seem just out of place enough to fit right in. There’s no better area on campus to live out my “Seinfeld” dreams while studying for a microeconomics exam.
It is strange, though, to remember that the Campus Center wasn’t always the deserted fun house I’m so familiar with today. After its expansion in the ’80s and up until the opening of Sadler Center West in 2022, the Campus Center was home to student media groups like WCWM Radio and The Flat Hat, both of which have since moved to Sadler’s Student Media Suite. Back then, Market Place was still a bustling dining center thanks to the use of meal swipes. For a time, the Campus Center even hosted couples’ dancing in Unity Hall, formerly known as Trinkle Hall.
Today, I regularly find the remaining artifacts of the Campus Center’s glory days littered throughout the building: They serve as reminders of the students who used to populate it. The old WCWM room’s door is plastered with stickers, most of which date back to concerts and albums from the ’90s or earlier. The former The Flat Hat office still has the paper’s past logos decorating its walls and signatures of previous editors carved into the woodwork. Even Market Place’s empty chairs and tables remain in neat rows as if they’re awaiting the return of the students they once served.
Exploring the Campus Center gives me the rare chance to not only find a peaceful haven away from the hustle and bustle of the rest of campus, but also to remember just how small I am in the grand scheme of the College’s history. As I stroll through the desolate floors, I try to imagine what it must have looked like fifty, thirty or even ten years ago earlier and the tens of thousands of students who once used it daily. It keeps me grounded and reminds me that nothing is truly permanent.
Unfortunately for both myself and the small set of fellow Campus Center enthusiasts, nothing good can truly last. Campus Center will be redeveloped in Phase Two of the school’s 10-year Housing & Dining Comprehensive Facilities Plan. Though the building’s actual fate is unclear, I can’t help but assume that its treasure trove of history will be lost in the process.
To me, Campus Center embodies the distinct uniqueness that can only be found at the College. It is a perfect representation of the College’s past, a shadow of the many groups that have filtered in and out over the course of decades. Though I completely recognize the need to modernize the building and bring it into the 21st-century, it’s hard not to mourn its charmingly outdated quirks and the lingering reminders of the past that occupy each empty space within.
To those reading, take advantage of Campus Center while you still can! I promise you will be surprised by whatever gold mine of long lost memories you discover. Or, find your own forgotten nook on campus. As I discovered through my own Campus Center adventures, you’ll never know exactly what you’re missing out on until you seek it out for yourself.
