Princeton University Clapper Caper

This story was told for the umpteenth time at Christmas dinner and I felt the need to record it somewhere. 

One of our guests for Christmas dinner was a 60-something man named Jamie who my father has known since boarding school (this is all very New England prep, they were both wearing bow-ties, though he was in tweed and my Father was not). Jamie’s grandfather attended Princeton. In those days, the daring thing to do was to steal the clapper from the bell in the Princeton steeple. Jamie’s grandfather and some rebellious young lads made some designs to do so, and managed to carry off the feat.

They returned to one of their rooms on the top floor of their dorm with the clapper to gloat over their victory. Suddenly, they heard the thud of the door downstairs, and then a slow tread up the stairs, and finally thud-thud-thud the steps drew up to their door. The person knocked. Most of the boys cowered, but Jamie’s grandfather had the presence of mind to ask “Who’s there?”. The person on the other side responded “It’s me, Dean McKosh!”. Thinking quickly, Jamie’s grandfather crossed to the door and responded “I don’t believe you, if you were really Dean McKosh you would have said “It is I, Dean McKosh!”. 

Silence. Then the footsteps receded away down the hall.