A Memory Evergreen

Last month a couple of guys from the college development office paid a visit. Jim and Pete ticked off all the new and wonderful programs that had been introduced at the old school. You wouldn’t recognize the place, they said. I fleetingly imagined that I was 30 years younger, and that I was a freshman again. The daydream was silly, not only because I couldn’t turn back the clock, but also because I probably wouldn’t meet today’s standards for admission.

The old school’s neighborhood is undergoing a renaissance, said Jim. During the ‘70’s, when the rot of the inner cities seemed irreversible, students didn’t venture out past the rows of shuttered buildings. Tattered posters commemorated the town’s glory days, when the beautiful people would swoop in to watch plays before they debuted on Broadway. The city’s revival is now beginning to make it a destination, rather than a place to crash on the way to Boston or New York.

I hung out at the student cafeteria and mastered a Fireball pinball machine. I learned the special shot that would enable me to play indefinitely on just a quarter, maxing out the credits at 10 games. I also spent many an evening in the dormitory basement, which housed the laundry, card tables, and foosball machines.

The rare books library

My favorite place to read was the library of rare books. Sunlight glowed warmly through the marble walls, and the thick leather couches were comfortable--sometimes too comfortable—for intense studying. Every couple of hours I would get up and gape at the historic works on display.

I now wish that I hadn’t been in such a hurry to graduate. It would have set me back a few thousand dollars—real money in those days—but the experience and memories of another year would have been priceless, which is how I now value the three years that I did spend in college.

When I hear people curse the chance that was wasted I know but too well what they mean. --Cole Porter