It's easy to get lost in OSU's centuries-old underbelly

When Henry Dammeyer opened the door at the lowest level of the Math Tower, an inhospitable heat enveloped him as he descended the three-step metal staircase.

He stepped into a room that was dimly lit, with pipes that crisscrossed the alcove and extended off into the darkness. Dammeyer turned to his right, and a tunnel that had beckoned him many times before stood waiting, blacker than night.

It was a part of Ohio State few ever get to see and fewer still even knew existed beneath a campus going about its daily bustle. Dammeyer has spent thousands of hours in the Ohio State tunnels — all eight miles of them — during his nearly 30-year career.

There are enough twists, turns and dead ends to get lost and no directional markers. Dammeyer, the technical director of Utilities, always tells employees new to the tunnels to be sure and bring two flashlights.

“Do you want to be standing in that dark tunnel with your batteries dying wondering which way is out?” he chuckled. “You learn quickly.”

What Dammeyer doesn’t need is a map. He’s walked Ohio State’s underground enough times to know his way around. He figures about eight employees in all are self-sufficient in the tunnels — and most of them won’t be far behind him when he retires Dec. 16.

But the newest members of the distribution maintenance crews who work on the tunnel piping that carries natural gas, potable water, chilled water and steam and condensation are quick studies, and Dammeyer said OSU’s utility infrastructure is in good hands.

Most of the time Dammeyer’s tunnel strolls have been uneventful, quiet inspections. But he’ll never forget the night a water line burst.

Going beneath Ohio State means stepping into history. The walkways, walls and arches in the oldest tunnel sections — first started in the late 1800s and constructed with heavy, red bricks made by prisoners at the Ohio State Brick Plant in Chillicothe between 1909 and 1926 — make for an excellent barrier against street-level saltwater.

But the tunnel’s age was working against Dammeyer that night. The water from the burst pipe eroded the brick flooring, and Dammeyer was suddenly falling through a gaping hole filled with ice-cold water that went over his head.

“I had to swim my way out of it and climb back up,” Dammeyer said. “I was thinking, ‘Great, I’m going to drown in the tunnel. They’ll just fill the hole in and I’ll become another legend.’”

While the mishap makes for a great story now, Dammeyer understandably doesn’t plan on going into any tunnels once he retires.

But sharing that part of his career with others is rather fun, said Dammeyer, who has spent quite a bit of his free time researching the tunnels’ history in the OSU Archives.

Last spring his crew was boring into the ceiling of one of the tunnels near Oxley’s by the Numbers, and they hit what they thought was the building’s foundation. But according to their map, whatever they hit shouldn’t have been there.

Dammeyer pulled out the 1918 map he keeps in his office.

“It’s always handy to have an old map, especially around this place,” he said.

It turned out the crew had struck the foundation for the old Marconi Station, a wireless radio telegraph office the US Army used during World War I. The military was developing machine guns there and using the station to communicate weapon readiness and personnel transfer orders, Dammeyer said.

Over the years, the tunnels have acquired three distinct looks. The bricked archways were the architectural style until 1914. After that, convict bricks were still used in the walls and walkways, but the ceilings became flat concrete. And by the 1960s, concrete was used completely for new additions or when older portions of the tunnel needed to be torn down and reformed to add new infrastructure.

Brick is an excellent structural material, but concrete and the labor involved to put it in are cheaper. There are still several miles of the brick tunnels, mostly below the older parts of campus as well as some on West Campus.

A little more than 10 years ago, students were known to break into the tunnels and play a live version of Dungeons & Dragons — something Ohio State vehemently discouraged for safety reasons (the students were caught and prosecuted). But around that same time, the tunnel had an uninvited guest, a raccoon the employees nicknamed Ricky. Dammeyer was worried the students would accidently encounter Ricky.

“He was not a friendly raccoon,” Dammeyer said. “You get in a very narrow space like that and you have a raccoon that’s trapped, they get a little ferocious. Ricky left on his own accord as far as we know. We’ve never found him since.”

There’s a much safer way for students, faculty and staff to see the tunnels. Students may book a tour through Student Life and faculty and staff can contact Utilities administrative assistant Darla Brewer (brewer.260@osu.edu) or Ryan Wester (wester.2@osu.edu), who will be Dammeyer’s replacement.         

Dammeyer said there is at least one benefit to knowing and having access to the tunnel system. During winter while everyone else is trudging through the snow, he’s taking a warm, dry walk between buildings.

A hostile environment

Working in the Ohio State tunnels requires more than just stepping inside and getting busy.

During the summers, the tunnels can easily become a dangerous health risk. Temperatures in the tunnels can reach 160 degrees Fahrenheit. Heavy-duty gloves are required just to be able to grab the handrails on the tunnel ladders.

Utilities maintenance crews can only work for 10 to 15 minutes at a time in those conditions before they have to come out and cool down.

“That’s why you’ll see our people sitting outside the McCracken Power Plant in 90-degree weather,” said Henry Dammeyer, Utilities technical director. “That’s cool to them. You’re looking for a sweater at that point.”

In preparation for the extreme heat, Utilities crews make certain they’re properly hydrated and have enough electrolytes in their bodies. A close eye is kept on the time spent in such conditions as well.

“We’re trained and our people are trained,” Dammeyer said, “so we avoid getting ourselves into a dire situation.”