Palouse
4 stories filed under Palouse on Wazzu. The newest of them: “Washington wine didn't happen by accident. Cougs helped build it”, “A letter that found a Coug you never knew you needed”, and “WSU researchers take on the nightmares PTSD leaves behind”. You don't have to dig deep into Washington wine country to taste the Cougar in the glass. A letter from Barbara A. The unofficial read for people who left Pullman and stayed Cougs. The list below is every Palouse story on Wazzu, newest first.
Washington wine didn't happen by accident. Cougs helped build it
You don't have to dig deep into Washington wine country to taste the Cougar in the glass. That's because WSU didn't just show up to the harvest, it helped plant the roots. For decades, the university has worked shoulder-to-shoulder with growers and producers across the state, turning what could have stayed a scrappy regional hobby into an economic powerhouse. That's not luck, and it's not happenstance. It's the result of patient, hands-on work in the vineyards and the labs, the kind of quiet persistence that doesn't make for flashy headlines but sure makes for a good bottle. The wine industry here doesn't owe everything to Pullman, but it owes a lot. And it's worth saying plainly: Cougs built this, and we're not shy about it. The same spirit that drives our ag research, the kind that makes the Palouse a little smarter every season, shows up in the vines. If you want to see how that same practical innovation plays out elsewhere, our piece on WSU's smarter corn fields is worth a click. But today, raise a glass to the growers, the researchers, and the decades of grit that made Washington wine a name you actually hear outside the state. It didn't happen by accident. It happened because Cougs showed up, got their hands dirty, and stayed. Go Cougs.
A letter that found a Coug you never knew you needed
A letter from Barbara A. Petite x'76 landed in our mailbox, and she's right: Catherine Roberts Frasier is a Coug we never knew we needed. The Spring 2026 magazine pulled her story out of the archives, and Barbara calls it exactly what it is, proof that this alumni magazine is the best one out there. We agree. That kind of digging, that kind of pride in the people who built this place, is why we keep turning pages. Jeff Hardesty '97 English, Ed., '18 EdD chimed in too, remembering Gay Selby's truthisms about superintendent-board relationships. The Spring 2026 issue honored Selby, and Jeff says those lessons still ring in his ears daily. That's the kind of impact that doesn't fade when you leave Pullman. It follows you. And while we're on the subject of research that matters, a new WSU study on cannabis ads shows how they're shaping young adults' ideas about sex and intimacy. It's the same sharp curiosity that unearthed Frasier's story, just applied to what's happening right now. We don't stretch stories here. We don't have to. The real ones are good enough. Go Cougs.
WSU researchers take on the nightmares PTSD leaves behind
Nightmares from PTSD don't just mess with your sleep. They rewrite how you see the world when your eyes are open. WSU researchers are digging into that, trying to figure out how to treat the specific kind of terror that keeps replaying in someone's head long after the trauma is over. This isn't about bad dreams you shake off over coffee. This is the kind that leaves you afraid to close your eyes. The work matters because too many treatments treat PTSD like a single lump of symptoms. Nightmares are their own beast. They have their own triggers, their own damage, and they need their own solutions. WSU is stepping into that gap, and honestly, it's the kind of research that makes you proud to be a Coug. Not because of a scoreboard. Because somebody in Pullman is trying to give people their nights back. If this sounds like the same university that opened a clinic in a Spokane elementary school hallway, it is. That story ran here too, and it fits. WSU keeps finding ways to meet people where they actually live. That's the land-grant mission with its sleeves rolled up. So yeah, read up on the nightmare research. Then think about what it means to be a school that takes on both a proper tailgate and a proper medical problem. Go Cougs.
How Wazzu Alumni Turn a Pullman Return Into a Proper Tailgate
You roll into Pullman for a game, and within an hour you've seen three people you haven't talked to since graduation. That's the whole point. For Wazzu alumni, coming back isn't just about the scoreboard. It's about parking the car in the same dusty lot, cracking a can, and picking up a conversation that started five or ten years ago. The tailgate is the real reunion. There's a ritual to it. Someone brings the grill they bought at Dissmore's in 2014. Someone else shows up with a cooler full of something local. You stand in a circle, talk about the game, then talk about everything else. The town hasn't changed much, and neither has the feeling. That's what makes it work. We wrote about how Dean Khosla recently made the case that the land-grant mission still means something. That mission is part of Pullman's soul. When you come back for a tailgate, you're not just visiting a campus. You're standing on ground that was built for people to return to. The town stays small, the research stays big, and the people keep showing up. A proper Pullman return tailgate is simple. You bring food. You bring stories. You remember why you left, and why you keep coming back. Go Cougs.