Before the 7:30 a.m. bell rings, trudging through the coldness and fog, hundreds pass over the front walkway as they make their daily trek into the school.
But unlike most morning commutes, they will inevitably pass over one thing: the blob.
The blob, a small—weather immune—clump of beige, measuring about 3 inches in diameter, is a scientific anomaly.
Is it moldy ravioli from the weekly staff-only food trucks? Is it moon cheese from the celestial heavens? Is it the beginning of another global pandemic? It’s unclear, but those who pass by it (and sometimes step in it) would certainly like to know.
Guidance counselor Whitney Singleton and her freshman daughter Maddie Singleton have observed the blob in awe for months.
“We passed it every day on the way in and out [of school],” said Whitney. “It was there for so long and it withstood storms, rain, [and] days and days of hot weather.”
After members of the Maroon and White staff received an email describing the substance, we began our own investigation to decipher the mystery.
Enlisting the help of chemistry teacher Rich Reece, we carefully sampled the blob and took it to the flame. Burning the substance promised to reveal—or rule out—some of its properties.
“I was disgusted by it,” said Reece. “Honestly, I was a bit concerned that THS students were playing with rotting food that they had found in the parking lot; however, I was inspired by [their] curiosity!”
The test resulted in the substance melting and producing a caramelized scent. It is safe to assume that the “blob” was an old piece of gum someone spat out on their way in.
Despite the mystery unfolding, Reece offered advice to students seeking answers to daily mysteries around them: “Put away your phone. Breathe. Be present, and enjoy your life!”
