I was cleaning my fraternity house with all the windows open by myself one summer day when I detected this strange noise. It sounded like a horse running on asphalt. I looked out the window and saw an elderly lady walking down the street. Suddenly, this black bull with 24-inch horns on each side of his head comes charging up behind her and runs over the top of her. I make my way outside, the bull hears me, stops and drops its head and charges me. I am darting out from between cars parked on the street—which there weren’t too many of since it was the summer— the only time I ever wished there were more cars on the UT campus. The bull gets tired of our game and sprints off. I look around and there is no woman, no blood, nobody. Remember, this is two blocks from the Presidential Complex, not exactly in the “boonies.” I called the packing house across the river and was told no bovine had escaped. I never saw anything in the Knoxville paper about this. It still bothers me to recall it.
—Dr. Bill DeWees (’78, ’80)