It was not guns that stopped Napoleon’s historic march across Europe. It was ice.

Similarly, it will not be guns that threaten the safety and well being of Madison’s student community, but unsalted and unsanded ice.

This point was made clearest to me last winter, when, despite upped efforts by the city to address the biggest snowfall in Madison’s recorded history, I nevertheless fell or watched others fall on the ice on a near-daily basis. However, it wasn’t until my first spill of the season that I realized the issue must be confronted now so I don’t have to return from Europe next semester to attend funerals.

I was walking down Bascom Hill Monday, just in front of the entrance to the Law School, when a man in front of me spontaneously did a half-backflip, landing on a tailbone that I can only hope was protected by a generous layer of fat and clothing. I was about to give the poor bastard a helping hand when I too felt my feet lose traction and watched helplessly as my legs flew out in front of me. I hit the pavement hard — apparently $8.99 doesn’t buy you much in the way of tailbone protection in the Steve and Barry’s jeans department.

The fall was momentarily painful and semi-embarrassing at worst. But the implications were clear. As I got to the bottom of the hill and stood on the bridge over Park St, I turned around and watched with awe as ass after ass hit the cold concrete. I counted at least a half-dozen in less than a minute. That one patch of ice was a death trap.

I had seen similar scenes last winter. In many instances they’re hysterical. Most people do get up and are able to laugh about it later. But then there’s the person who breaks their wrist, or their collarbone or their neck. It’s for that reason I decided to actually do something about the situation beyond try to capture the hilarity on my camera phone.

First, I called the University of Wisconsin Police Department non-emergency number. The operator transferred me over to UW Groundskeeping, which didn’t answer. So I left a rather inarticulate message explaining the rough patch of ice and how somebody really ought to salt Bascom. I was unsatisfied. I e-mailed Dean of Students Lori Berquam, asking her if there was any way students could report such incidents and encouraging her to first devise a system if there isn’t already one, and then publicize ways in which students can help their peers by reporting safety hazards.

The response from the dean’s office was swift. My e-mail was forwarded to John Harrod, from the Facilities Planning and Management department, who responded the crew was out on Bascom with salt and sand. I don’t think that was a direct response to my call — I kind of hope it wasn’t. It should be intuitive for the grounds crew to give Bascom Hill a priority status.

Regardless, both the city and campus have to dedicate more resources and time to combating the ice problem. The city restricts its use of salt on the sidewalks for environmental purposes — Lake Mendota already has its fair share of human waste and litter swept into its waters. While the motive is laudable, and we’re lucky to live in a community that gives such a high priority to its natural wonders, I am encouraged to see snow sweepers spraying salt on the State St. sidewalks already.

But most importantly, the Associated Students of Madison and the university administration should give people ways to report particularly dangerous bouts with nature. Although I have a principled policy of designating all messages from the dean’s office to my trash can, I am confident there are at least a few on this campus who read and heed the counsel of Mommy Badger on the daily.

Just tell us what to do, Lori Berquam. Should we call groundskeeping? Should we carry salty snacks to class and pour them out along the way?

So there’s my advice for the winter to ASM, who I thankfully neglected mentioning during my entire time at the Herald. Do something about the ice. Brittany Wiegand mentioned the organization had been preparing for the winter all summer, so now would be time to show some results.

Nobody actually cares about the ASM Constitution. All we really need is a guy with a gigantic shovel and a bag of salt. An ice king, per se.

And thus ends my editorship at The Badger Herald. To the guy who recognized me at the football game and shook my hand, I appreciate the support. To everyone else — you have thoroughly disappointed me.

Jack Craver (craver@wisc.edu) is a junior majoring in history.