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            Web Exclusives: 
              Under the Ivy 
              a column by Jane Martin paw@princeton.edu 
             
            October 
              9, 2002: 
              Sure, you can claim perfect 
              attendance at reunions  
              Fictitious classmates 
              enjoy records at Princeton 
             In my last column, I wrote about what was possibly the best  
              and best-known nationally  joke perpetuated at Princeton in 
              history: the Veterans of Future Wars. But VFW was only one among 
              many legendary Princeton pranks. For example, Joe Oznot '69 and 
              Ephriam DiKahble '39 are much loved by their classmates  even 
              though neither ever existed. 
              Oznot's birth was even more elaborately plotted and executed than 
              the VFW hoax. According to the Princeton Companion, Joseph David 
              Oznot was the creation of six sophomore college students, four from 
              Princeton, one from Columbia, and one from Michigan State. The Michigan 
              State student filled out the preliminary application and provided 
              a home address (his fraternity house). The Columbia student sat 
              for the admission interview. Two Princeton students took his SATs 
              (now, those were simpler times); and all six conspired to complete 
              the final application, wherein they gave his birthday as April 1 
              and his father's name as William H. Oznot (W.H.O.) and occupation 
              as private detective. Based on his talents as a classicist and pianist, 
              as well as his SATs in the 700s, Oznot received his admission letter 
              on April 16, 1964, and was listed with the incoming class on official 
              admission office rosters. A few days later, the conspirators revealed 
              their successful prank to the Associated Press, who reported it 
              with delight. Director of Admission E. Alden Dunham took the news 
              with good humor, reports the Companion. "We would have loved 
              to have had him," Dunham said.
              DiKahble has a murkier origin. The Companion relates that he was 
              born sometime during the Class of 1939's sophomore year, and his 
              name appeared sporadically on chapel attendance records and in examination 
              books. He was also, it should be noted, a photographer of some renown, 
              as at least one of his photos appeared, duly credited, on the cover 
              of the July 4, 1967, PAW. PAW's editors (OK,OK, me) reran the famous 
              photo, of a woman "graduate" among a sea of men, in the 
              July 5, 2000, issue, only to find out that like the female graduate, 
              Ephriam DiKahble was a joke.
              Plenty of other hoaxes, not revolving around fictitious people. 
              have surfaced over the years. A column from the February 23, 1941, 
              New York Times magazine, sent by Theodore Wall *64, reports two 
              Princeton pranks, including "the Princeton group who hired 
              an airplane to fly above the Yale bowl [sic] during the Yale-Harvard 
              football game. The plane towed a sign reading: 'Send your son to 
              Princeton!'"
              But I got a bigger kick out of the other gag, in which a group 
              of undergraduates mailed out official-looking bills from the University 
              Power Plant, demanding extra payment. Concerned students tried to 
              pay the bursar nearly $700 before the hoax was revealed. This one 
              reminded me of a joke a group of friends played on one of their 
              roommates in the spring of 1989. Recall a softening job market, 
              post-1987 crash, to fully understand the victim's pain: the conspirators 
              lifted a job offer letter from his mailbox while he was in class, 
              steamed it open, carefully altered the salary figure to read some 
              $10,000 less, resealed it, and casually replaced it in his box for 
              him to find. The poor guy anguished over the reduced offer for a 
              full day before his friends took pity on him.
              He made out all right in the end, though  better even, I 
              think, than Joe Oznot, though you could ask some of Joe's buddies 
              in the Class of '69. They've kept up with him at Reunions; legend 
              has it he's never missed one.   
             
             
             Jane Martin 89 is PAW's former editor-in-chief. You can 
              reach her at paw@princeton.edu 
              
              
              
            
             
               
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