The UW Lovers’ Lane

Washburn Observatory and environs achieved pop-culture immortality with the release of 1934’s “It’s Dark on Observatory Hill.” UW Archives

In the early 20th century, Observatory Hill was renowned in scientific circles as the site of UW–Madison’s Washburn Observatory. But in popular lore, it was known less for science than for seduction.

In the 1920s, an uptick in car ownership transformed once-quiet Observatory Drive into a lovers’ lane. Couples flocked to the romantic overlook on Lake Mendota, chugging up the hill in their Model Ts. Everybody had a good time — everybody but the UW astronomers, that is. The cars’ lights interfered with their celestial observations, and the noise (not to mention the necking) distracted from scientific research.

By the early 1930s, Observatory Hill had become nationally notorious, according to Chasing the Stars, a history of UW astronomy by James Lattis MA’87, PhD’89 and Kelly Tyrrell MS’11. Even conservative Time magazine referred to it with a wink and a nudge: “University of Wisconsin jacks and jills like to go up Madison’s Observatory Hill at night.”

Today, the song’s cloying lyrics are more likely to elicit a snort than a sigh.

In 1934, the site achieved pop-culture immortality with the release of “It’s Dark on Observatory Hill.” Describing “a stroll to the hilltop where college sweethearts go,” the song was written by Johnny Burke 1927 and Harold Spina and popularized by Bob Crosby and the Dorsey Brothers, among others. To the astronomers’ dismay, hordes of couples suddenly wanted to “look at the lights on the campus down below” while contemplating “what the stars do have in store.”

Faculty members complained, and by 1937 Observatory Drive had been rerouted away from Washburn Observatory. Finally, the astronomy department could chart the galaxies in peace.

Today, Observatory Hill is nothing if not respectable, but the once-racy song survives in multiple versions on YouTube. To modern ears, the melody is so stiffly metronomic that it’s hard to believe “It’s Dark on Observatory Hill” once titillated young lovers. And the cloying lyrics are now more likely to elicit a snort than a sigh: “They don’t have to know arithmetic / To figure why you and I would click.”

The Lettermen, Ray Conniff, and others continued recording the song into the 1960s, but only one interpretation hints at its potential. In 1953, Martha Tilton drew on her experience in Benny Goodman’s orchestra to loosen up the ticktock rhythms with languorous jazz phrasing (see below). Tilton also provided an essential ingredient lacking in the other versions: sultriness. “The moon may mean romance,” Tilton sings — and for once, you believe it.

Published in the Spring 2025 issue