Pumpkin toss provides students midterm release
Purdue Northwest event popular at both campuses
The rules were simple: Participants were not allowed to hit cars, people or squirrels.
They also had to at least try to hit the tarp spread out three stories below the Purdue Northwest Hammond campus’ parking garage, but if a person’s ability was such that they overshot or didn’t quite make it on, no one was too mad about it. Those who overshot, in fact, were lauded for either their athletic prowess or their palpable rage.
But whether they winged them far into the ether or merely dropped them over the side, neither student nor faculty and staff could deny how satisfying the gooey plop the pumpkins made Tuesday as they hit the ground was. And that was the point of PNW’s annual Pumpkin Toss: to absorb the satisfaction of relieving all one’s stress.
Brooke Hewson, assistant director of Student Life for both the Hammond and Westville campuses, said she wasn’t exactly sure who came up with the idea of smashing pumpkins around midterm time, but it continues to be one of the more popular things their office does.
“We’re going into the middle of the school year, and we’re still trying to make sense of things after last year,” Hewson said. “It’s not overcrowded up here, and it’s literally a beautiful day, so why not smash a pumpkin?”
The students were allowed up to two pumpkins; Student Life provided the markers in case anyone wanted to draw pictures or write the names of their enemies to be hurdled into the pavement. Paisleigh Mossman, of Hobart, did just that.
“I’ve been stressed out by my art and some people who’ve been stressing me until I bawl my eyes out,” Mossman said. “(Throwing the pumpkin) was so relieving — I feel like a weight’s been lifted off my shoulders and now I can keep those people out of my head.”
Hewson said she’d heard students write the names of exes, ex-besties, teachers, coaches, family members and even a political leader or two.
“COVID’s another one,” Hewson said. “But we’re not asking anyone questions.”
Naturally, there’s a method to picking out the perfect hurling gourd, said Raven Chant, a Student Life coordinator.
Most tossers looked for a lighter pumpkin with a longer stem, but the more athletic, like Garrett Sandefur, of Mishawaka, chose a larger one that he threw like a
football — getting a spin on it and everything — delighting friends Mackenzie Haynes, of Aurora, Illinois; and Lauren Zarris, of Mokena, Illinois. His effort landed way beyond the tarp.
“That was fun, yes,” Sandefur said. “Got to relieve some stress from class.”
And for those concerned that all those pumpkins would go to waste, fear not: Chant said the school’s “amazing facilities people” would mop all the gourdian entrails onto the tarp and take it to the woods behind the dorms across the street for the wildlife to dine.
“I’m told deer love pumpkin, so it’s a win for everyone,” she said.
Is angst- and rage-infused pumpkin really good for wildlife?
“It’s serotonin — who doesn’t need a boost?” Chant deadpanned.
Not all students were willing to commit gourdicide, like Harlie Durham, of Hammond. She christened “Leo,” which she named after the PNW mascot on whom she drew a face, her support pumpkin to get her through midterms. Pal Antonio Contreras, also of Hammond, wasn’t so nice.
“I made it onto the tarp,” he said, touting the toss’ stress-relieving magic.
“After that econ midterm, I needed it. But then I also got an 84 on it, so I’m good.”