All who attend and many who visit Worcester Polytechnic Institute are familiar with Gompei's place located in the lower level of Sanford Riley Hall. However, few today know of the evolution of the Goat's Head Tradition for which the pizza place is named. Our Alumni continue to share their stories of the Goat's Head with great vigor, and the class rivalry which the Goat's Head symbolizes seems to be back in full force.
The tale of the Goat's Head dates back over a century ago to the spring of 1891. At this time the enthusiastic class of 1893, then sophomores, decided that it wanted a mascot. One day a group of classmates took a half day road trip to Dungarvan Hill, east of Union Station. Here they secured for their mascot a live black goat which they felt would best represent the characteristics of the class.
The goat, which was never named, was taken to a farmhouse on Park Avenue. A Japanese student, Gompei Kuwada, who the class considered to be quite a humorous character was chosen to care for the unmanageable animal. Gompei's selection resulted from his ability to deal with the beast and because his were the only initials that fit the title Goat Keeper. The goat, led by Kuwada, soon made its debut for the class of '93 at a home ballgame. The goat became a popular attendant at the class activities as he helped the sophomores achieve victory at every outdoor event until the summer.
As the end of the academic year was drawing near the class became aware of the expense concerning the care of the goat during the summer. When it was found that no reasonable arrangements could be made the goat was taken to New Worcester where it was chloroformed and its head mounted. Thus for the following two years the Goat's Head was to serve as mascot for the class of 1893.
All went well for the class of 1893 until just after spring vacation 1892. Kuwada and a few other men from the class of 1893 returned from the holidays to find that the head was missing from its usual spot in their John St. rooming house. A hushed investigation by a small group led to suspicions that two or three men of the class of 1894 were responsible for the disappearance. Unfortunately, evidence was scarce and the Head was nowhere to be found. Rumors began to circulate of the Goat Head's disappearance and transport to Nova Scotia, but the few members of each class who knew the truth dared not disclose it for fear of incrimination or humiliation.
In just a few days the men of 1893 were expected to display their mascot or submit to the jeers of the entire student body. With little time to act, the few members of the class of 1893 who knew of the disappearance traveled by night to procure another black goat and have him similarly foreshortened. As scheduled the Goat's Head made its appearance setting to rest all rumors and leaving only a few in each class to know of the occurrence.
The class of 1893 made it to graduation with no other major incidents concerning the goat. They titled their yearbook Aftermath of '93: The Tale of the Goat, as a tribute to the unfortunate critter that had helped increase the unity of the class. But what happened to the original Goat's Head?
For over twenty years, this question burned inside of those few classmates who knew of the disappearance. The resolution came in 1913 while many of the class of 1893 were enjoying the Alumni Dinner in the Electrical Laboratory. The lab's big crane began to move down the room until it stopped over their table and lowered the original Goat's Head with an inscription from the class of '94 saying that they were gladly returning the real head after a twenty year absence. The diners immediately responded with the chant, "It sounds to me like a lie; it may be so, I do not know, but - it sounds to me like a lie." And the esprit de corps picked up where it had left off one score earlier.