The Bryce Jordan Center buzzed with energy this past weekend. Hundreds of students, families and supporters filled the basketball arena. When the stage lit up with $18.8 million raised for the kids, the crowd erupted in cheers.
For most, it was awe-inspiring. For Tammy Anthos, a THON dancer in 1993, the final reveal was deeply personal.
A Walk Down Memory Lane
As a senior member of Chi O Mega, Anthos volunteered without hesitation to stand 48 hours for the kids. The event was formally known as the IFC/Panhellenic Dance Marathon back then.
The event took place in the White Building, which holds a maximum of 210 people, according to Google. Yet one February weekend, 540 dancers, along with supporters, filled the gymnasium beyond capacity.
“Back then, it felt big packing in the White Building, running on pure adrenaline, friendship and heart,” described the 53-year-old graduate. “I remember the music, the laughter, but most of all the kids. Whether it was teaching them the line dance or playing Tetris, they kept us going.”
To keep dancers engaged, distractions for all ages were provided.
Arcade games provided bursts of entertainment. Line dances lightened up the atmosphere. Motivational guest speakers lifted spirits while non-stop songs, including a bunch by a relatively new band called Pearl Jam, boomed over the loudspeakers.
Bathroom breaks came once only every eight hours. That is six breaks. Imagine that.
When dancers returned, a ‘slide’ of relaxation awaited them. Participants crawled across a wrestling mat dusted with baby powder, receiving a few seconds of muscle massages. Anthos remembered the unique ritual being one of her favorite moments on the floor.
Fundraising was just as hands-on, recalled Anthos. The year before, THON had broken the $1 million, a milestone that seemed almost impossible at the time.
“Fundraising meant weekends spent driving to each other’s hometowns and canning in the streets. We would stand in freezing weather at intersections with coffee cans. It was grassroots and exhausting, but so incredibly worth it,” said Anthos. “Seeing the total this year, it reminded me of when THON first made seven figures — we thought that was unbelievable. Little did we know.”
Back on the Floor, Almost 30 Years Later
Anthos arrived at the BJC around 2 p.m. just in time for the talent show and annual pep rally, a recent addition she admired. During her time as a student, there was no pep rally dance competition. The event was introduced in 2019 as a morale booster for attendees.
Anthos even got a firsthand look at the new digital line system. When midnight struck, she suited up with a floor pass and made her way down the stairs accompanied by her sorority sister and former dance marathon partner.
What was meant to be an hour exploring unfamiliar grounds quickly became a lasting full-circle memory, described Anthos.
“Looking up from BJC arena is something I truly will never forget,” recalled Anthos. “We did not even have stands. There were bleachers like at a high school basketball game. Now, there are people so high up in the crowd you can barely see them. ”
She joined in the line dance nearly 30 years later, moving through the steps with a mix of nostalgia and joy. For a brief moment, past and present merged.
Watching the dancers and colorful committee members bouncing around her, seeing a new color everywhere she went, Anthos began to notice what has stayed the same through decades of change.
Students dedicate everything they have to an entire weekend for one mission.
“It is still, and always will be, for the kids,” described Anthos.