Willkie North's 3rd-floor residents vacate rooms Tuesday night

A handwritten sign met Willkie Quad residents as they waited at lobby elevators Tuesday night, several hours after a student was discovered dead in the North tower.

“3RD FLOOR RESIDENTS, PLEASE COME TO THE FRONT DESK.”

The approximately 35 students living on the third floor of the north tower could go up to their rooms — for only a few minutes — and grab essentials. They wouldn’t be sleeping in their beds that night. But no one wanted to stick around.

Willkie residence manager Doug Yeskie said most students chose to spend the night with friends, but the staff provided housing on other floors for students who couldn’t find a place to stay. Fewer than 10 people took the staff up on the offer.

Residents were allowed to return to their rooms Wednesday night.

***

Around 10:30 p.m. Tuesday, sophomore Andrea Zambrano walked toward the elevators with a friend. The doors creaked open and eight people crowded in. When the doors parted at the third floor, the two walked into an overpowering odor.

“It smells like they hard-core cleaned,” Zambrano said, covering her nose with her hand as she turned left and walked down the third floor hall. The environmental operations staff thoroughly cleaned the floor before residents could return.

Zambrano stopped at her room, almost at the end of the hall, and swiped her key card to get in.

“I honestly thought it was food,” she said of the smell that floated through the floor for the last week.

Residents never worried about the smell — it’s just someone’s refrigerator or a messy neighbor or a smelly tree outside. No one thought the odor was the sign of a problem.
Zambrano flicked on the light in her room.

“I don’t know how much to take,” she said.

“Just take enough for tomorrow and tonight,” her friend said.

Zambrano tossed a yellow tote bag on her bed and started pulling clothes out of her closet.

“I just don’t want to live here anymore,” she said. “I guess I’m just freaked out.”

***

When Zambrano came back to Willkie around 4 p.m. Tuesday, she said didn’t know what was going on. She knew someone had died, but she didn’t know it was on her floor, down the hall.

Many Willkie residents said they never received an e-mail from Willkie staff or Dean of Students Pete Goldsmith with information about the death or their safety. However, at 1:16 p.m  Wednesday, the Willkie Residence Center Facebook group sent out a message to its 183 members, encouraging students to contact Counseling and Psychological Services if they needed to talk.

Goldsmith said he was still figuring out how and what to communicate to students. Residential Program Services Executive Director Patrick Connor explained that communicating how to receive emotional support was his top concern.

***

Zambrano said she doesn’t know what Gregory Willoughby looked like, but that’s not unusual for students living in Willkie. Most residents live in single suites — two individual bedrooms connected by a shared bathroom — and many students aren’t friends with their suitemate.

There are no Resident Assistants to make rounds, no propped-open doors and no floor-bonding activities. Students live in relative anonymity.

“People choose to live here,” Zambrano said, grabbing a pair of gray shoes out of her closet and throwing them on the bed. “If you want a more social setting, you can go somewhere else.”

The quiet drew Zambrano, who lived in McNutt Quad freshman year, to the residence hall. Now the thought of living in a single makes her anxious. She’s alone.

Zambrano said she wonders if some simple gesture could have helped Willoughby.

“You wish you could have made a difference,” she said. “Maybe saying ‘hi’ would have helped. But you never know what the reason was. It’s just shocking.”

***

Two Willkie employees walked through the hall, stopping at Zambrano’s open door.
“We really need to be heading out now,” one said. “I’m going to come back around and check.”

Zambrano grabbed books and shoved them in her bag.

“Oh, my phone charger!” she said, grabbing some cords.

“Your toothbrush and hair stuff,” her friend replied, sending Zambrano lunging into the bathroom.

She picked up her bags and walked into the hall, the smell of cleaning chemicals hanging in the air. The floor bulletin board by the elevator carried a simple message that, given the situation, turned eerie. It’s a message of gratitude for the Environmental Operations staff.

“Thank you E.O. staff.” Below that someone wrote, “for taking care of us all year.” It’s signed, “North 3.”