I am a mentor in Snyder Hall, which is basically the east wing of Snyder-Phillips Hall. It lies across Bogue Street and somewhat northward from Cedar Village apartments, and one can see the apartments from the window in the outside door on the east side of my floor. Because of our proximity to the party, our senior staff thought it prudent to ask for two volunteers to augment the normal contingent of three mentors on duty for the night; I was one of them. At 7:00 PM, when we signed in for duty, the on-duty assistant hall director and the hall director met with us to discuss the night's order of affairs. They had decided to lock down the hall an hour early, at 11:00 PM, in order to block the free flow of party-goers into our hall.
We met at 8:30 to go on rounds, and again at 10:30. There was a bit more drinking activity than usual, but nothing at all spectacular. Nevertheless, there was an air of something important coming; the tone in the senior staff members' voices, the extra mentors on duty, and the shouting and chanting that could be distinguished even from a distance all contributed to the sense that something would happen at some point. Eventually, the senior staff ordered the mentors to watch the doors to make sure that no one was letting anyone in through doors that should be locked. This became an important enough task that three mentors were sent on duty while two others, myself included, watched the front side doors. The AHD and several night receptionists who had volunteered patrolled the outside of the building to make sure windows were not being used to enter illegally.
This arrangement gave me the ideal opportunity to figure out what the situation was with the party. I heard that police were intervening at times to arrest students who were becoming problematic or exposing themselves and that there were EMTs on site ready to cart away anyone who needed medical help. As the night passed, it began to look like there would be no rioting or large-scale police action of any kind. That was good news, of course, but--truth be told--a little anticlimactic.
That wouldn't last long. Mentors were told to split up and complete our last set of rounds at around 2 AM, but before that the complex manager from Shaw Hall, volunteering to help us, informed us that City of Lansing police in full riot gear were moving to seal Grand River from the party--a likely prelude to a dispersal action. As we moved through the upper-level floors of the building, we began to hear the loud thudding of tear gas canisters being fired across the street. We rushed down in time to see crowds streaming out of the various streets leading to the middle of the Cedar Village apartments and billowing white gas following them. Looking for any haven from the tear gas, many approached our building and were rebuffed, as per the regulations regarding housing complexes. Among them were an older man and woman wearing "ACLU Observer" T-shirts. Perhaps fifteen or thirty minutes later, police fired a second volley of tear gas and completely cleared out the apartment complex.
Once the crowds dissipated, mentors were given permission to go to sleep. That was at about 3 AM. Although we were tired, I for one felt like we had done something truly constructive in our role as mentors, a feeling that I have often lacked while on duty. Our reward was uninterrupted sleep, as the rest of the night passed without event.
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