It's that time of year again. quadfest, an annual massive party in Radford, clutches all corners of the city.
After driving down Tyler Avenue on a Saturday night toward Radford for a while, I was beginning to get skeptical. The road from the highway had offered little more than dark expanses of wood and scattered gas stations a couple hundred feet away from one another. More importantly, they were closed by the time I was in search of something to drink at around 11 p.m.
Everywhere I looked, there was no sign of festivities, no inclination of a city-wide party. Guided by my thirst, I stopped in a Food Lion further down the road. What greeted my eyes inside was a reaffirmation that I was on the right path. A large green sign stood in between the opposing automatic doors at the entrance and read "Kegs. Register 7" in big black lettering. Walking back to the car, iced coffee in hand, I spotted some Food Lion employees rolling out a cart with a keg resting on top of it, about to transfer this sizable amount of alcohol into the hands of eager youths awaiting in a white mini-van. I was close. As I continued on my course, the flat road peaked upward as I approached a hill. Like looking over the mountain ridge and first setting eyes on Canaan, Radford and Quadfest appeared in a flurry of lights and bodies as I made my descent past the crest of the hill. On the right was Radford University, its campus surprisingly calm and noticeably barren of activity, only traversed by those uninterested or who had already invested too heavily in the merriment.
The school formerly hosted the event on campus, but in recent years has abandoned the tradition.
"It started as a function on Radford University's campus," said Deputy Chief Angie Frye of the Radford Police at around 1 a.m. Sunday morning. "If I'm correct. It actually was an activity that it had, and the university stopped their involvement in that, and it's just kind of continued as what you see, and it's always remained Quadfest. As a matter of fact, when I started here years ago, it was called 'the beginning of the world party,' which was at the beginning of school, and the 'end of the world party,' which was a whole different clientele and different place it took place at."
When I find Frye, she is at the Radford Police's Incident Command Post in a parking lot behind the First Christian Church, in between Fairfax and Clement Street on the 1000 block. She has been at the post since noon on Saturday. The station's set up is a large white Sprinter trailer. Chairs and a table with snacks, food and Gatorade sit in front of it. Police cars and yellow barriers outline the perimeter. The purpose of the station is to provide local law enforcement with a convenient place to rest from patrolling as well as give the officers the advantage of a quicker response to a nearby emergency call. EMS is also standing by there.
Tonight, when officers are on patrol, most of the summons or arrests done will be alcohol related in some manner.
"We're probably going to see a lot more of open containers," Frye said, "or drinking in public and underage possession. Probably the open containers will probably be our biggest summons issued, probably your most arrests, but I don't even know at this point. I'm just guessing that you're going to have a lot of drunk in publics and disorderly conducts."
In the three hours that I stroll through Quadfest, I spot at least five different incidents where police appear and make arrests or issue summons.
The first one I witness takes place on the lawn of the Wesley Foundation at Radford. An officer is never alone; they travel in groups or have back up, which arrives shortly after they have stopped someone. Radford freshman Jo Nel, who explains to me that he has only had a "good handful" to drink tonight and that this is his first Quadfest, has also been witness to the increased police activity.
"Almost every other corner that I've been to," said Nel, "I've seen like bike cops just writing somebody a ticket."
Yet, to really earn the attention of the police on a night like tonight when there are so many people to monitor, Nel feels, someone must really be asking for it.
"Everywhere I go, I hear complaints like, 'Damn, I got a ticket,' and I'm like, 'What were you doing?' People are just dumb sometimes. If you're not 21 and you're carrying a cup, it's stupid."
I meet him standing on the sidewalk outside of a large party, looking for a phone to use to get in contact with his friends whom he has lost track of.
Although Quadfest began on Thursday, he and most Radford students only began celebrating on Friday.
"Some people went out (on Thursday)," he said, "but from what I heard, it wasn't too exciting."
Dressed in a green polo and beige shorts, he explains to me that there are two sides to Radford, "light side" and "dark side," and that currently we are on the light side.
"Dark side is a bunch of houses," said Nel, "and apartments. ... All of the frats are on this side."
On the light side, the Incident Command Post is a new addition to Radford PD's coverage of Quadfest; state police also come down to patrol the area. But other than these adjustments, little else has changed in how the police prepare for the event.
"We have more personnel out," Frye said, "working to keep the crowds under control."
And there are crowds: Hundreds of people are constantly in a state of motion. Just across the street from the Tyler Avenue side of a campus is a 7-11 with well more than 100 people standing in its parking lot. Only a few cars have managed to slip inside of the parking lot and have been left idling with music blasting. Bouncers wait at the front door of the 7-11, regulating a line to let only a certain number of people inside at once. Some fireworks go off near the dumpster, but this is not uncommon on Quadfest weekend. The sound of these explosives can be heard rattling throughout the city randomly all night.
According to Frye, it is difficult for police to really catch anyone who is setting off fireworks unless the police are already present.
"It kind of happens," she said, "and it's hard to figure out unless you've got somebody in the bushes."
Walking down Downey Street, some of the houses are overflowing with students and partygoers; people stand on the porch and the sidewalk, blue and red cups in hand. Other houses look practically abandoned with the only record of human activity there being the collage of waste left on the front porch and lawn. One particular house's seemingly only occupant is a life-sized plastic ram standing on the roof wearing a Radford shirt.
Fire Chief Lee Simpkins has been a member of the City of Radford Fire and Rescue for 39 years. One of his primary concerns is that Quadfest participants put themselves potentially at risk when packing into various houses and establishments.
"There are so many people in these houses," he explained, "that we're always afraid that somebody will drop a cigarette or something and set one of them on fire, and we'd end up with several fatalities because of so many people in them. That's my biggest worry about it."
Like the Radford Police Department, the City of Radford Fire and Rescue has also increased its staff size for the weekend in the event of any unforeseen emergencies. Though they do not officially recognize Quadfest, the extra staff is a necessary precautionary method. Luckily, Radford Fire and Rescue do not receive many emergency calls on Quadfest weekend and normally end up regulating activities such as shutting down impromptu bonfires or controlling dumpster fires in the city.
"We may have a couple dumpster fires," Simpkins said, "or something like that; they really don't give the fire department a lot of problems."
Despite the fact that the crowds do not offer immediate problems, their presence presents a challenge to Fire and Rescue attempting to reach any emergency in the city.
"Even in the area that they sort of have it all in," Simpkins said, "if we were to have something in that area, we've got so many people in the streets and parking is such a problem that all of that would hinder the fire department if we do have something."
Both Frye and Simpkins have seen the beast that is Quadfest change over the years. To Simpkins, the level of intensity that comes with the event is something that has only recently developed.
"I'd say the last five," he said about Quadfest's growth. "I don't think it was a big deal up until the last few years."
Frye has also seen many Quadfests come and go, each one its own kind of unique occasion.
"It just depends on the different type of students," she said, "and the crowd that we have. Last year wasn't anywhere in comparison to this year. Weather plays a factor in it. Last year, it was raining and chillier."
Tonight is a night of noise in all respects to the senses. The eyes and ears cannot help but experience the showcasing of a city repelling itself and letting go. There are opposing forces at work in Radford during Quadfest. There are those like Nel, who have only recently embraced the Bacchus-like tradition, and Frye, who attempts to keep some type of order in the streets when everyone else seems to speak a different language.
As I go to walk back to my car, the intersection between Third Street and Downey Street is shut down. A K-9 unit is sitting in the middle of the street with its lights on; several police officers are all over the scene. Some are chatting with each another, another is talking to a witness, and a few stand by a car parked on the side of the road with a citizen. It's time to go; this is past the realm of drunken merry mishaps. This is the part where impending consequences will alter lives forever. Right before I close the door to my car to make my way back toward Blacksburg, the dogs begin to bark.