Fig Tales at Reed

Deep in the Reed College canyon lies the orchard, home to various fruit trees. But the orchard is not the only place on campus to forage fruit. Below is a tale from Tracy Poe ’91 about the old fig tree by the Reed College Apartments (RCA) and her endeavors to care for it.      


There’s this fig tree, see, down at the RCAs. When I was a kid living at 36th and Knapp in the 70s/80s, before RCAs or even many of the Canyon-adjacent parcels even belonged to Reed, I used to forage from that tree in the summers. Summer-time in Portland was a child-forager’s dream, from the crawdads in Johnson Creek to the old orchards that used to surround the Canyon, yielding plums, cherries, apples, quince, and of course blackberries. 

Reed has a lot of legacy trees from the days when the surrounding area was all homesteads and truck farms. 40 years ago they were still harvestable, but it was the beginning of the end of anyone looking after them on any kind of regular basis. Development and neglect encroached on a lot of our old foraging territory over the years. Reed campus still has some thriving black walnut trees, and the remnant of the old orchard just below 39th at the south end of the Canyon. When I was a student, the Grove Dorms were a giant community garden. 

The Reed fig in October, 2024

Fruit trees are domestic plants, and they need care in order to keep giving food, but sadly a lot of those caregivers are gone and the trees just get old and die if no one attends to them. 

Anyway: the ReedFig was still bearing beautiful fruit well into the early 90s. As a Dorm Mom at the RCAs, just a few years after it was acquired by Reed for student housing, I was still harvesting grocery bags full of fruit every September/October. 

I graduated in ’91, left for grad school on the East Coast, where I live now, and didn’t think about that tree until many years later, when I attended a Reunion and decided to go give the tree a visit. That must have been 2015 or so … 

When I did, I discovered that the tree had at some point been hacked way back. Not pruned, but chain sawed down, so that it was being choked by undergrowth and blackberry runners. I was very sad to see this, and was sure the tree would die.

The undergrowth of the Reed fig, choked out by other plants

But I kept visiting, and what do you know, that tree just kept sending out new growth, and searching for the sun. It was too weedy and starved to give much fruit, except in the very upper story where it was only good to feed the birds. Invisible, probably, to anyone who happened by. Every year, I thought, if that tree doesn’t die, I should find someone who cares enough to prune it properly and give it a new life.

In the meantime, I did a little research. The tree has a sister, across 28th Ave behind the farm stand and food trucks. Both of them were planted by the Japanese immigrant family who owned the farm that used to cover the whole curve of the road from Bybee to the Rhododendron Garden, sometime between 1900-1920, from what I’ve been able to gather. 

That tree is huge—almost 40 years older than it was when I was harvesting it in my Reed days. And it still produces beautiful fruit in the late summer/early fall. Both sisters are 100, maybe 125 years old now. Standing so near to one another, and yet so different in their fates. 

The sister fig tree behind the fruit stand

So I put the word out on a Facebook page: Reed Culinaria. And to my surprise, a lot of people remembered the RCA tree and wanted to bring it back to life.

So we got some folks together —alum Hilary Trzynka ’91 agreed to teach a Paideia class about pruning and taking cuttings from the tree. We did that in January. Ten people showed up, but we made cuttings for a bunch of alums around the country who plan to pick them up at Reunions this year. Amanda Waldroupe ’07 helped us get funding to pay for the supplies from the Portland Alumni Chapter.  

Fig cuttings under a grow light

For now, we are posting on Reed Culinaria and hoping we’ll be able to continue to care for the tree. Our long term goal is to get a group in to clear the understory and prune it back to a place where it can begin to flourish and produce fruit again. We’d love for current students to take an interest and help us re-establish the tree’s health. We’ve been keeping it lowkey, but we’d be really happy to have other caretakers. 

It’s been a cool journey to get other people involved, and I’ve been moved by the level of enthusiasm my fellow alumni have shown. I think just for its connection to the historic farms around it and its sister tree, it deserves to be noticed and commemorated by the community in some way.

I haven’t met anyone yet who doesn’t think that is a good idea.


I don’t have Facebook but that story just might make me create an account to join Reed Culinaria…

Feeling inspired,

Taliah Churchill ’25

Historical Hijinks

Wacky hijinks and antics are part of the Reedie lifestyle. I’ve heard rumors that in the 70s, the Yale Insider’s Guide to Colleges said, “Reedies are a strange lot and they know it.” Pranks, goofs, and straight-up oddity has often been a part of the Reed ethos for eons, but many of the April Fool’s Day pranks rule them all: toothbrush gardens, swiped owls, and geodesic domes in Eliot Circle.

These photos from ye Olde Reed highlight Reedie antics perfectly…but now that I’m thinking about it, what prompted these photos/events? No seriously, does anyone know??

Confused and intrigued,

Taliah Churchill ’25

Spring on Campus

As the winter transitions to spring, the snow (or rather, ice) on Reed campus is replaced with cherry blossom petals. The trees all blossom in an array of pinks and whites, and the students flock to the great lawn to enjoy the sunlight they so seldom see. 

The trees in Eliot Circle were planted in 1973, and they are at the fullest time of their long lives.

In case you can’t make it to campus to view for yourself, here are some of my favorite photos from spring at Reed! Photo credit to Oscar Pulliam ’25.

Craving vitamin D,

Taliah Churchill ’25

Pi Day Comes Full Circle

The symbol π, as every Reedie knows, represents a fundamental geometrical constant—the ratio of the circumference of a circle to its diameter—whose precise value is elusive, but which famously begins 3.14159. π has become a delightful excuse to celebrate in the spring with pizza, pie, and Euclidean tomfoolery–on March 14th, Pi Day.

Of course a holiday like Pi Day would take off at Reed! An excuse to eat Lauretta Jean’s pie, grab a slice from Commons, and argue about the validity of mathematical concepts fits right in with the Reed ethos. Folks around campus jump in–the Library historically went all out, and one could not even dip into any of the Pi Day pies until exactly 1:59 in the afternoon; pies might be found in any number of offices in Eliot; and the SU is often filled with students competing to recite the most digits. 

What many don’t know is that Pi Day itself can be traced back to Reed as well, through Larry Shaw ’61. Larry was a physics major at Reed, before going on to be the technical curator for the Exploratorium, a science museum in San Francisco. In 1988, he came up with the idea of honoring the influential constant with an annual party. The Exploratorium celebrated its first Pi Day on March 14 at 1:59 p.m.

Larry in 2007

Larry believed the best part of Pi Day was its ability to make math seem accessible and fun to folks who may have suffered through it during their school days. He was honored that it became such a national holiday. π may be an irrational number, but Larry’s celebration of it was rational, civil, and orderly.

For 38 years, he donned his red cap emblazoned with the magic digits and led a parade of museumgoers, each of them holding a sign bearing one of the digits of π. They would march in strict order, with 3 in front, the decimal point next, and then 141592653489 . . . Of course the number of sign carriers was exhausted long before the infinite digits of pi.

Larry passed away in 2017, but his memory lives on as we celebrate the holiday. Rest assured, Larry condoned all varieties of pie; per his wife, “He didn’t have a favorite, he ate everything.” Grab a slice of your favorite and join us today in toasting Larry and π. 

Ye Olde Reed

Photo of graffiti in the steam tunnels from 2015 that reads, “Schrodinger’s old reed is alive. Schrodinger’s old reed is dead”

“Olde Reed is dead.”

A phrase every Reedie knows, but few truly understand. This sentiment has been shared for decades, from Reedies dating back to the classes of the 60s (likely even further) to present day (guilty as charged). We repeat it back for the incoming years to hear, we post it on social media, and dedicate entire blogs (blogception!) to it, so the mantra lives on unchanged while its meaning is ever evolving. You see, everybody knows that:

Olde Reed=n-1, where n is your freshman year.

While my time as a Reedie has been comparatively short, I’ve had the honor of hearing tales of Olde Reed from many an alum. Some, like the giant snowball of ‘14, are wild but believable, but many others, like the car supposedly buried underneath the library, are more in the vein of myths. While I fear the traditions I took part in at Reed are less eventful than those aforementioned, I hope that one day they too can become “Olde Reed” lore such that I have legends of Olde to pass down to young Reedies. What are your favorite tales of Olde Reed, either from your time here or that you heard when attending Reed? Submit your stories in the comments below!

Awaiting new rumors to spread,

Nü Reedie

Taliah Churchill ’25

Love Is In The Air

‘Tis the season…of love! Many a couple has been formed at Reed college, and while not all of them make it out of the bubble intact, there are still so many others with tales sure to make even the most cynical Reedie’s heart melt.

This Valentine’s Day I want to share with you the story of (to my knowledge) the oldest living Reed couple, Eva Labby ’51 and Arnold Labby ’51. Arnold recently celebrated his 100th birthday with his wife of 67 years, Eva, in their lovely home just outside of Portland and near their mutual alma mater: Reed College. 

Arnold and Eva on vacation in the French Marquesas in 2006

For an oral history project with the Oregon Jewish Museum and Center for Holocaust Education, Arnold recounts their first date: “…my brother Bob had a blind date with Lorie, his wife, Lorie Carrow. She wasn’t quite sure about him…So she brought along Eva, and the next thing I knew Bob was yelling up the stairs to me, “Get dressed! You’re going out.” “Who am I going out with?” “You’ll find out when you come down.” It was Eva, and that’s how we met.”

While they attended Reed at the same time, and even went on that date before they both graduated, they didn’t really get together until years later, when they reconnected in San Francisco.

In San Francisco, they were only “buddies” at first, as Eva called it. One day, Arnold mentioned he was going back up to Portland to visit family and offered Eva a ride if she wanted to come along. She ended up forgetting about his offer….until the next morning, when he showed up at her door with a pot of hot coffee. He told her “If you want to go, I’ll wait,” and that he did. They drove to Portland together and later in the week even attended the same party. On the way back down to San Francisco, Eva realized she suddenly saw Arnold in a new light. 

Some time later, after a night in with a home cooked dinner, the pair was watching The Maltese Falcon and Arnold proposed! Three days later, Eva accepted, and the rest is history. The happy couple has since spent the last 6 and a half decades together, with their three children. 

Their wedding day in 1958

You can read more about these sweethearts and others here in the Winter 2007 edition of the Reed Magazine.

Are you a #Reedie4Reedies person? Refuse to ever date another Reedie? Married four times but just keep coming back to other Reedies? Tell me about it and give me hope?

Awaiting my reed romance,

Taliah Churchill ’25

Reed’s Annual Festival Of Learning

If there’s one thing that unites Reedies, it’s our love for learning, and that’s what Paideia is all about. This year, Paideia will take place from Saturday, January 18, to Sunday, January 26, and will include an array of classes taught by students, professors, and alumni. With some returning courses such as “Building Reed College in Minecraft”, “Reed College Survivor,” and “The Art of Pokemon Battling” along with some new ones like “World Domination 110: the Reed Alumni Agenda”, there’s classes for everyone!

As we move towards post-pandemic life, Paideia is once again open for all Reed community members, which includes alumni, so we hope to see you there!

Excited to take classes with no exams,

Taliah Churchill ’25

Ft: some pictures from years past:

Paideia 2016, The Folly of Frack
Paideia 1018, class unknown

Paideia 2023, class unknown
Paideia 2023, fencing

Riffin’ Griffin Returns

The Riffin’ Griffin is SO back; did you miss us? After a many year hiatus, there’s much to catch up on, and while blogs may not be as hip and happening as they were when I was on Tumblr 10 years ago, I think it’s prime time they came back. This blog was created back in 2010 to serve as a home for news and announcements, multimedia offerings, and observations from our staff and colleagues. We’re proud to announce that in addition to all the classics, the new and improved Riffin’ Griffin will also include news about your fellow alumni, tales from ye Olde Reed, and whatever else tickles our nostalgia bone! We hope you’ll join us on our journey down memory lane and maybe even rekindle some friendships along the way.

To give you a glance at the disembodied voice behind the screen, I’m Taliah, a current senior and the Alumni Relations student assistant! I’ll be posting a lot of the content for this blog (other staff members may also blog from time to time), and hopefully in a few weeks you all will have the opportunity to submit posts too! We’re working on an easy to fill out form so that if you have any stories about Reed or otherwise Reedie related content you can submit it to us and we can post it on the blog.

TTYL,
The New Riffin’ Griffin Editor
Taliah Churchill ’25