When legendary coach Bill Walsh signed two of the top recruiting classes in the nation to Stanford in 1993 and 1994—debatably the two top signing classes in program history—new talent brought new expectations to the Farm. These fab freshmen were ready to make moves.
"We had the number one class in America," says Eliel Swinton '97, who signed with Coach Walsh's fabled 1993 class after rushing for 5,904 yards and 67 touchdowns at Montclair Prep in Van Nuys, Calif. He switched to defensive back at Stanford, playing all four positions in the secondary as a true freshman and earning Freshman of the Year team honors.
"We wanted to bring in some swag and flavor."
Eliel invented the "C-House" moniker his freshman year, echoing the "P-House" nickname used at his high school. Invested in this new Cardinal identity, Eliel and a handful of others in his class got tattoos. They shouted it out, on and off the football field.
"It started on the field, and then we took it all over campus," says Eliel. "When the football team would walk into a party after a game, we would yell 'C-House!' to announce our arrival."
In 1994, another star-studded class arrived on campus. Freshman wide receiver Damon Dunn '98 from Sam Houston High School in Arlington, Texas saw even greater potential in the tag line.
Despite a roster that stacked back-to-back years of nationally acclaimed talent and was led by a living legend head coach, Stanford's fortunes faded fast with a five-game skid by mid-October. The team became divided as losses mounted. Coach Walsh played his two young, talented classes in many cases ahead of veteran players who were more consistent.
"After one practice, Coach Walsh asked me to get up and speak," says Damon, who led the Pac-10 in kickoff returns his freshman year. "I said that we have to step this up. We have to protect this house. One house. C-House."
"Damon Dunn took the torch and he ran with it," says Eliel. "His spirit was special."
Damon began leading the team in cries of "C-House" in the locker room and on the field, and it started catching on. The next year brought Tyrone Willingham to the Farm in 1995 and a fresh start. He, too, called on the future Baptist minister to help lead and inspire the Cardinal.
"Coach Willingham embraced it and institutionalized it," says Damon. "It had been a players' thing before. Before that, we were joking around in the locker room. Now it became pride about winning, especially at home."
At his coach's urging, Damon taught the team at practice how to follow his tempo and volume in the sanctioned chant. Start low and slow, growing louder and faster. Damon stood up in the locker room before games and again after wins. C-House was fully formed.
Whose house?
— Stanford Football (@StanfordFball) September 29, 2019
C-House!#GoStanford pic.twitter.com/6hzO4wzSvE
The chant remains today tightly woven into the fabric of the Stanford football program, reverberating throughout home and road locker rooms after every Cardinal victory. Different players can lead the chant each week. In its formative years, it was entirely Damon's baby.
"After I graduated, I didn't know if anybody would pick it up and continue it," says Damon. He needed a successor.
The night before the 100th Big Game and the final game of Damon's senior year in 1997, seniors spoke in front of the team. Damon called upon freshman DeRonnie Pitts to carry the C-House torch. The next day, Stanford defeated Cal and a new voice asked the famous question, "Whose house?"
"C-House!"
"Not everybody can do it; not everybody has that swag," says Damon. "DeRonnie was from Saginaw (Mich.)—from the hood—and could do it with real authenticity. It's not just words. There's an edge to it."
First time an alum has led our C-House locker room celebration, @IamJoshG rocked the house. #GoStanford pic.twitter.com/KzGSMUgxOo
— Stanford Football (@StanfordFball) September 25, 2017
The legacy of C-House was secure. DeRonnie later passed it to Ryan Wells, who bequeathed it to Luke Powell, then Oshiomogho Atogwe, Gerren Crochet and onward.
"I see it in videos now and can't believe it," says Damon.
C-House lives on 25 years later, louder and prouder than ever on the Farm.