Oakland University is a lovely university to tour.
It evades the proud university tradition of spiraling into a low cost of living — though oftentimes charming — cityscape and creates something much more unique.
In more than a few spots, OU feels like the university where the cast is set at the start of a horror movie. The perfect and pretty one, before it seems like anything bad is going to happen.
It is picturesque, bell tower and all.
Yet it is a very large campus, with well over a century of history.
It has been the ground of fox hunts, two universities and the summer home of countless lives.
It is impossible to showcase all of such a transient and special place on a tour, or even in four years — if you don’t know exactly where to look.
Before a single student had a crippling case of impostor syndrome while applying to grad school, Oakland wore a completely different outfit. Less the trademark athleisure of a university student. Not even the Banana Republic formal of professors.
The rolling and verdant estate of the Dodge family. Something of an American “Downton Abbey.”
The fountain in the Pegasus Garden at Meadowbrook Hall. Photo by Andrew McNamara May. (Andrew McNamara May)
Picture it: white gloves and champagne towers.
One of the most impressive surviving Art Deco estates, Meadow Brook Hall also has a feel many of the structures of its era lack: a warm flow of love moving through its old veins.
“I sometimes hear parents tell their kids ‘No, we can’t have this,’ when they are touring these,” Clair Fromm, a visitor services assistant at Meadow Brook Hall and a sociology and anthropology double major at the university, said.
Knowles Cottage. Photo by Andrew McNamara May. (Andrew McNamara May)
Strolling through the dollhouses for giants, it is easy to see why.
The Knole Cottage pulls heavily from much of the design inspiration of the estate itself.
A living room with a grandfather clock and fireplace.
Knowles Cottage living room. Photo by Andrew McNamara May. (Andrew McNamara May)
A doll room that is bigger than any dollhouse one can buy at Costco: a full working kitchen, loaded up with nostalgic treats that whisper sweet nothings about a nostalgic and shinier America.
A display reads that she had to maintain her own home by properly using her own personal checking account with a Rochester bank.
A bit more serious than the game of house that most people play as children, perhaps.
The horse trail curls. Dan’s cabin is conjured by a circle of trees.
The cabin is closer in scale to what many would consider a starter home.
Inside lie all the trademarks of classic masculinity.
Taxidermy is found inside a home yellowed with age and likely tobacco smoke.
Inside also finds motor oil, a drum set and a wonderful set of cameras.
Daniel’s camera collection. Photo by Andrew McNamara May
Maybe spoiled rich kids have always had the same hobbies.
Walking in his cabin, one can sense tragedy.
A fair read. Daniel died on his honeymoon, aged only 21, due to an accidental drowning that followed injuries from a dynamite explosion.
Just outside sits another old horse trail.
Emerging from a curtain of foliage, one can see my favorite view on campus.
It feels like the part of an Elder Scrolls game when you walk into the world for the first time.
You feel small.
The view from the trail. Photo by Andrew McNamara May. (Andrew McNamara May)
Just through the woods sits Meadow Brook Amphitheatre.
It is a wicked concert venue, graced by greats including the late Johnny Cash, Dolly Parton, Bob Dylan, Lady Gaga, Vampire Weekend and countless more of the most famous artists in history.
I personally watched Brendon Urie do a backflip off a piano in the pouring rain there.
For a concert venue with such noteworthy talent, it often offers shockingly reasonable tickets.
Especially if you do not mind sitting on a grass hill.
But maybe bring an umbrella.
Each of the classroom buildings offers tons of personality and creates a diverse experience, if you’re lucky enough to attend more than a few.
Pyrale Hall houses a psychology program and is one of the humbler and more classic buildings on campus.
Yet, just like the rest of the school where rich kids used to hunt foxes, it is filled to the brim with hidden details and stories.
Almost every office houses a different lab currently enthralled in entirely different pet projects. The faculty offer diverse expertise. Opening one door, one isn’t entirely sure whether they will speak to a psychologist specializing in human mate preference or a behaviorist.
Maybe the scariest of them all, the rare biological psychologist.
Too smart.
It even has lab rats.
Sometimes they are even cute.
The Human Health Building is another grand feature of the campus. One of the university’s more recent additions, it was completed in 2013. It houses the nursing program and offers some of the most scenic high-up views on campus.
The only way you can feel higher is the hike up Elliott Tower to the bells.
And those are some scary steps.
It feels like the walk up to inferno, but it’s so worth it.
Elliot Tower. Photo by Andrew McNamara May (Andrew McNamara May)
Yet the Human Health Building is more than just a tall, pretty face.
It is also a feat in environmental campus design.
It uses solar panels and geothermal wells to maintain climate control and perform various other functions.
The Oakland Center is still the place to go for food, books and school merch. Clubs and events almost always have things going on there too, making it effectively the heart of student life.
Yet it used to have a bit more going on.
One used to not have to cross the street for Chick-fil-A.
In the 2010s, in fact, people outside the university would come to the Oakland Center for Chick-fil-A.
I was one of them.
Before that same Panic! at the Disco! concert.
It also used to house a Barnes & Noble store.
It increasingly sounds like the Mecca of indie-rock and hipster goatee nostalgia.
Some say that this was in that same odd era where students would sometimes use Urban Outfitters bags as backpacks.
In the iPhone era, it still has plenty of restaurants.
Oakland offers too much to do in four years.
Too many oddities for one article.
There wasn’t even room to mention the time — one of several — a car wound up at the bottom of Bear Lake.
Keep an eye out for headlights next time you cross its bridge.
Photo courtesy of Unsplash.