Hometown College
by Henry Higgins
When I graduated from high school, it was not cool to go to our hometown college. Lots of kids in our school went away to snob schools like Princeton and Harvard. Others went to Big 10 schools. Still others chose a state university. Only poorer students and the socially challenged went to the hometown school. My parents were financially comfortable, but not wealthy. Moreover, I didn’t feel ready to go to college too far away. So that September, I registered at a state university about 50 miles from our town and in a neighboring state — just far enough for me to feel independent, yet where I could still go back home every now and then so my mom could do my laundry.
State universities out West traditionally have strong agricultural departments and my new school was no exception. Besides all the regular start-of-school activities, we also enjoyed the high jinks of some ag students who got drunk one night and decided to put a pig in an elevator in one of the girls’ dorms. Classes started off sedately for freshmen and I tried to blend in.
Fall in the foothills of the Rockies is a gradual thing. Early October is still as warm as September. Not until late October, do nights turn crisp and leaves begin to turn golden or brown before dropping from their trees. Still, the days are warm and the sunshine brilliant. It was one of my favorite times of the year. The whole world seemed full of promise and change. That fall term, I studied fairly hard, got a job at the campus radio station, and made passing grades. Was life good, or what?
Somehow, I missed the fraternity rush season — probably because I was too wrapped up in adjusting to living alone, or rather mostly alone. My roommate didn’t spend much time in his dorm room. So, I found it easy to spend more time at the radio station, even when I wasn’t working.
(more…)
