CMU came into being when the eponymous Andrew Carnegie discovered Doherty, Porter, and Baker Halls during an excavation while preparing for the construction of a new US Bureau of Mines building. Modern archaeologists have been unable to conclusively pinpoint their age, though the pale Kittanning bricks certainly predate homo sapiens. Contemporary sources report a cautious Carnegie entering into the bowels of Doherty G- level, to return several hours later with a fanatic look in his eye, an insatiable desire to expand the complex, and, most strangely, a conversion to Catholicism. Nearly no one dared venture as far down thereafter, and the university would seal off the entrance in the early 90s following the death of a student recklessly exploring the bottommost layers.
Carnegie poured his heart and soul— well, only his heart—into the buildings that would become the University. He ordered the construction of a magnificent fine arts building and chapel (following his conversion) around what would become the Mall, funding construction however he could. He even sold his beloved giant Russian nesting doll, which went 196 layers deep. When all revenue sources nevertheless dried up, Carnegie was forced to downgrade construction quality, leading to the infamous Wean “Concrete Jungle” Hall.
An important chapter of CMU’s history occurred in the late 60s and early 70s during the Vietnam War. Due to a freak paperwork error, the beloved CMU Dean of Students Walter Melon was mistakenly drafted and shipped overseas. The student populace was beyond incensed, going as far to paint “Shame on You,” on the Fence, addressing President Nixon. When Melon died from a heart attack after needing to run up a particularly steep hill (he was quite old), the campus was thoroughly engrieved. Every CMU student wore allblack for the 7172 academic year, and a student initiative to add his name to the university passed with 99.99% support. However, due to Carnegie’s unsteady hand while writing the change, his name was accidentally misspelled as “Mellon.”
CMU has been built almost exclusively on Carnegie’s hard work. But look around the country, and nigh all other universities have a similar story. It is a wellknown fact, for example, that John CaliforniaBerkeley heroically died while placing the final stone in the university that bears his name. A shame that a man and jurist brilliant as him is today only remembered for such a middling institution. Their hearts, obviously, were never in the work.
Carnegie’s health steadily waned along with his fortune, and once he accepted his fate, he sealed himself into the basement of Baker Hall with a container of his favorite wine. The university almost immediately rolled back some of Carnegie’s more eccentric choices, including renovating his chapel into a new engineering hall we now know as Hamerschlag and replacing the aged steam tunnel heating system. The university continues to operate more or less as it did under Carnegie, though its fate without his leadership is as of yet unknown.