Gibby and the Cafeteria Hamburgers

This is a story about Gibby and one of the cafeterias at Trinity University, specifically, the Dining Hall, which was on the west end of the campus. Gibby graduated from Trinity in San Antonio, Texas, in 1981. I presume that he started there in 1977, but I didn't meet him until 1978, when he was living in the Isabel dormitory, just east of the Dining Hall. One day, as I was walking back to the Arts Building, cutting through the dorm hallways, I noticed that Gibby's door had a hamburger nailed to it. The next time I was there, there were two more burgers nailed to the door. I asked him about it, and he said it was an art project he was working on. Following is an eyewitness account which persuaded me that I should get to know Gibby.

How Gibby Nailed the Burgers

One Sunday, we were eating at the Dining Hall, and it was either Chili Mac or Hamburgers, so everyone was getting burgers, because, well, some freshman had found veins in his Chili Mac, so ... anyway, just as we had our trays up to the meat-choice point, a woman came out of the kitchen, speaking very loud and excited Spanish to the other women on the serving line. They all gasped and put their hands over their mouths in horror, and one of them put on gloves and lifted the steam tray with the burgers in their buns and started waddling toward the kitchen door. Immediately, an indignant uproar went up all through the line. "What's up with the burgers?", "Hey, I want a burger!", "I don't care what they taste like, gimme two!" The lady with the steam tray hesitated, half-turning back to survey the angry mob, as diners who had already obtained burgers and eaten them came back in from the dining area to inquire, "Is there something wrong with the hamburgers?" In the ensuing confusion, I saw a lanky, dark-haired guy making his way through the line. He was head and shoulders above everyone else, six-foot-six, at least. He got to where there was an entry door from the tray track to the service line and just lifted it and sort of ducked through it, explaining, "It's OK--I'm an Art major." He went right for the lady with the tray of burgers and started to bargain for them. She shook her head, saying, "No, ees bad burgers! I, I t'row away!" but he insistently followed her into the rear of the kitchen, past a swinging door.

We settled for peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, and made our way back to the Arts Building to finish building the sets for a batch of student-directed one-act plays. As we cut through one of the dorms, there was the lanky guy, on his knees in front of his door, pulling the hamburgers out one of several paper bags and nailing them to his door in a matrix. As we approached, he was opening and closing the door to ensure that none of the ones on the sides would be pinched or torn when the door was opened or closed. He just looked up and said, "What's goin' on?" a normal greeting for the late Seventies, and returned to his work. I made a point of checking the door later, and it was completely covered with burgers (just meat and bun, no condiments) except for the doorknob and the nameplate, per University regulations ("Students may decorate their doors in whatever manner they wish, provided that normal ingress and egress are not interrupted, and that the nameplates are not obscured.").

I heard later that he brought his Art teacher to show him the completed work, and received an "A" for the semester. I've always wondered whether the teacher gave him the "A" because:

- he was impressed by the work
- he was afraid of other works of art that Gibby might produce as the semester progressed
- he didn't want Gibby to attend his class and give the other students weird ideas

Thanks to Brad Morrison for this great story