If you are reading this article right now, you're probably a little curious about the Wiess family. Like any family, we have traditions and a long history, most of which is passed down through oral tradition, commonly beginning with the phrase, "Back when I was a freshman, back when Wiess was cool … " While we'll never be able to document the vast amounts of wisdom and history you could pick up from upperclass and alumni friends, we've attempted to give you a brief history of where we were and who we are now. So pull up a chair and let me tell you about a magical place called Wiess College … (w-I-ess, rhymes with Rice, like the food).

In the beginning …

There was a man with a dream. Harry Carothers Wiess, famed oil tycoon and founder of Humble oil (aka Exxon, Exxon-Mobil) left Rice U. a big chunk of cash upon his death in 1948 for the building of Wiess College.

In 1949, Wiess opened for business with modest beginnings: only 100 rooms and a small Commons. Though extra wings, a second Commons area, and a basement were added later, the unique "Motel 6" design with outdoor hallways and wrap-around balconies brought Wiess instant notoriety for its great social atmosphere. The additions of wings to the original design split the college into two sections, each with their own courtyard and personality: the Acabowl where the action was, and the Backabowl, where a quieter atmosphere prevailed for sunbathing or studying. Some insist that "Old Wiess" as it's become known, was supposed to be temporary housing after the GI bill of WWII caused an influx in enrollment. Like most Rice myths, this one sounds good enough to believe, but contains no actual truth. Old Wiess was built to last, and it did, though 2002. But I get ahead of myself …

So in 1957, the residential college system began at Rice. The four residential halls, (South, East, West, and Wiess) became Will Rice College, Hanszen College, Baker College, and, well, Wiess College. Each had its own dining hall, Commons, masters, and self-governing body of students. As the colleges grew stronger, each began developing its own distinctive personalities, even though freshmen were randomly assigned. Will Rice became the "un-college" and Hanszen became the "gentlemen's college" though Hanszen?s reputation failed to stick, primarily because Hanszen sucks. Wiess identified itself as a spirited college, and the freshmen each year embraced that identity during Orientation Week, in which new Wiess students became acclimated to the ways of their fine college.

In its early years, certain aspects of Wiess atmosphere were vastly different from today. The first master, Dr. Roy Talmage, was a conservative and strict gentleman. He instituted mandatory Wiess blazers (complete with crests) for formal Sunday dinners, where freshmen served upperclassmen a family-style dinner (a tradition that lasted almost 50 years) while sporting green beanies to distinguish themselves (a tradition which, thankfully, died out quickly).

Despite the formality of Sunday supper, Wiessmen found time to create some of their own unorthodox customs that became known as distinctly Wiess. These included the third-floor dangle and the Ubangee. Although the Ubangee is still proudly practiced, the dangle disappeared as human life became more valuable.

Wiess also developed an arch nemesis during those formulative years: Hanszen. Probably because of their proximity to each other, there arose a rivalry between Wiess and its accursed neighbor. From the beginning of O-Week, every Wiess freshman has learned to say Hanszen with true disgust. Unfortunately, Hanszen's lameness tends to dampen the rivalry and we often turn our attention to any other college bold enough to try to mess with us. When it's worth it, Wiess always prevails.

The '60s brought fewer milestones to Wiess, though one of our proudest traditions was born. In 1964, an ambitious Wiessmen wrote and "composed" a complete musical, Hello Hamlet, spoofing Shakespeare through creatively re-lyriced show tunes. Performances of Hello Hamlet have graced the stages of Wiess every four years, allowing every Wiessman an opportunity to take part in one of our longest traditions.

The blazer, the Sunday formal dinners and many other more formal institutions of the college started to disappear as the '70s rolled in. Wiess then started to take a shape more similar to today. College rules were relaxed until females gained unlimited visiting hours. Huge parties, which were the best on campus, became common. Then came the now-famous "Team Wiess" cheer. It was derived from a Xerox commercial with the phrase, "Team Xerox" and the movie, The Longest Yard, in which football fans chanted the phrase, "Mean Machine." The "Team Wiess" cheer made its debut around the time of Beer Bike in 1974. Since then, the deep resonating chant has become Wiess' metaphorical heartbeat and Wiess' trademark on campus.

During the '80s, Wiessmen were still party animals and cheered loudly at the dinner announcement that Wiess has the lowest grade point average on campus. Wiess gained national recognition through their appearance on Playboy's top ten college parties list with the annual Halloween NOD celebration. On a more local but no less impressive scale was the most impressive jack to ever go down in Rice history. In 1988, a team of Wiessmen angered by the hike in tuition planned for the following year turned the statue of William Marsh Rice in the quad to face Fondren Library, thus turning his back on the administration. The jack is still legendary today. Wiess also made the switch from brown and green college colors to our infamous goldenrod, which more accurately reflects the boldness and energy of Wiess.

Another highlight of the '80s was the addition of females to Wiess college. Wiess women were originally brave volunteers who opted to move there. While there were a small fraction of men who continued to chant, "all male college" the vast majority of Wiessmen welcomed women to the Wiess family, and the addition of the fairer sex only strengthened the Wiess spirit and sense of community. This is also the time when the term Wiessmen became unisex.

Throughout the '90s, the administration came to realize that the old Wiess building was slowly sinking into the ground and was each year becoming more structurally unsound. This prompted the planning of New Wiess, opened the fall of 2002. While many aspects of living at Wiess changed, Wiessmen have stayed the same. We now have an enormous courtyard, still called the Acabowl after the old main courtyard and a gorgeous commons. Plus, the addition of common rooms make new Wiess some of the best digs on campus.

The greatest thing about Wiess is that, unlike most of the other colleges, the cheering, team atmosphere and open displays of college spirit continue long after O-Week is over. Ask anybody on campus about Wiess. They'll probably say, "Wiess is loud," or, "Wiess is obnoxious," or even, "Wiess has a lot of spirit." We're like the popular kids in high school: everyone else thinks we're a pain in the ass, but we're pretty crazy about ourselves. And we plan to keep it that way.