(Heights Archives)

For Patrick Vale, BC ’13, the Mods represented something mythical, a place where the wildest dreams—and parties—could come true.

“I remember freshman year was always trying to get down into the Mods,” Vale said. “Like, ‘Do you know people who have a Mod? Can you get invited?’ It was kind of like the holy grail of partying.”

Older alumni paint a picture of an even looser era, less saddled by rules and regulations. 

“I think we might have been a little more wild back in the day,” said Henry King, BC ’84, who laughed while recalling the days when students could leave Alumni Stadium at halftime, grab a few beers, and sneak them back in.

“Somebody once managed to sneak a whole keg into the parking garage under blankets,” King said. 

Lauren Griffin, BC ’87, remembers her experience simply as an “excess period of time”.

“It was pretty wild,” Griffin said. “Like we weren’t like, ‘I’m never gonna study’, but it was pretty wild. We definitely went out every single Thursday night. We definitely could go out every single night of the week—every night on the weekends, we were out.”

Griffin’s time on the Heights was marked by the raising of the legal drinking age from 18 to 21. There was, however, little stopping students from drinking, she said.

“For my particular grade, half of us had to wait till we were 21 depending on when your birthday fell, and then half of the people were legal at 18,” Griffin said. “We were always working around it as a result.”

Despite the changing political atmosphere surrounding alcohol and the legal drinking age, Griffin said students treated rules more like suggestions during her time at BC.

“There was always a party. And I don’t know what the rules were, but it did seem like it wasn’t that hard to register,” Griffin said. “[The] last thing you needed to do is throw a charcuterie board together. It was very bare bones, it was like ‘we’re getting a keg and that’s [it].’”

Ask a dozen alumni whether the Mods were better “back then,” and you’ll get a dozen different answers.

“It was better then,” David Greene, BC ’13, said with a grin. “The teachers were there. The Jesuits were there. It was fun.”

Others, like Tony Fuller, BC ’94, don’t see much of a difference. 

“Students today party plenty,” he said. “They definitely get their partying in.”

Despite varying opinions on the Mods’ heyday, students and alumni both recognize a cultural shift—one away from drinking and toward more structured social activity.

Stephanie Herrera, BC ’97, attributes this change to BC’s higher selectivity in incoming classes. 

“I came [to BC] knowing what that experience could be,” Herrera said. “We went to the Mods, we were in the lots. We were out early in the morning every Saturday morning. But I think the student base is definitely of higher academic quality [today], and may not prioritize that as much as we did back in the day.”

Griffin points to mounting tuition fees and economic pressures as the cause.

“Tuition’s higher—stakes are higher,” Griffin said. “The growth of that puts a lot more pressure on the students to be like, ‘What am I going to do when I graduate?’ and there was less of that when I was there.”

Recent graduates also noted the proliferation of rules following the COVID-19 pandemic and the sharper penalties that now accompany them.

“I would say [the culture] has for sure changed, because even when I was a freshman and before Covid hit, the Mods would be a sprawling place at night, where even as a freshman, you could knock on a door, and then someone would be welcoming you in,” said Erin Miller, BC ‘24. “I think it’s like our disciplinary procedures [makes] people not want to make a mistake their senior year that could end up being on their profile ”

Vale’s experience in the early 2010s could not have been more different.

“I don’t remember it being like, a huge thing, to be honest,” Vale said. “Like, I never felt like it was very strict. I mean, even when I got written up, I probably should have been more nervous. It felt more like a slap on the wrist, like ‘You shouldn’t be doing that’, rather than [a fear] for, you know, my status as a student.”

For Miller, the shift toward stricter disciplinary action dampened the social experience.

“I had someone that was a family friend, and they were like, class of 2017, and they always talked about how crazy it was in the Mods and how it was a free for all,” Miller said. “And we just, like, definitely don’t have that nowadays. And of course, like, safety is first, but I think just like, the welcoming feeling isn’t as strong as the years have gone on.”

The ink on Maddy Canning’s arm still looks fresh. Her tattoo—“14B,” in honor of the location of her Mod—matches one on her father, who lived in the same Mod almost 40 years earlier. It rests under her sleeve, waiting to be flashed at the next BC tailgate. 

“I was like, ‘If we got the same mod, we’d have to get matching tattoos.’” Canning said. “That’s how out of the realm of possibility it was for us that it was gonna happen.”

A lot has changed since Canning’s father’s time in the Modulars. But the almost charmingly out-of-place mini-neighborhood has long been the heart of BC’s social life, and both alumni and students alike hold a fondness for the boxy buildings.

“I actually found comfort in that, like, hearing people have fun, like, constantly right outside and that there was always something happening,” Canning said. “There’s no escaping it, so you better like that, but it’s kind of in the best way.”

“We wish we were there, because we just loved the people and you were with them, it didn’t matter what you were doing, right?” Griffin said. “Just always with people that you just loved, and the parties were great, but it’s the people you were with.”

Bardong echoed that sentiment.

“I found I would have a friend over, and they would look across the yard and be like, ‘You’re neighbors with my roommates from sophomore year!’ and then you’re waving more people over,” Bardong said. “That is the epitome, I think, of creating connections at BC.”