The Real Story Under Those Tents

It's a rough job, but someone's gotta do it.

The Alumni Magazine has me covering reunions this year. It starts out a little hectic, as the classes of '29, '34, and '49 are only in town for Commencement weekend, and I've got to juggle tracking down interesting stories with keeping my family occupied and attending the oh-so-lively graduation rehearsals. (I was ready to watch the ceremony on TV, and have my 13-year-old brother walk for me he couldn't wait to try on the cap and gown—but when my mom caught wind of it she nearly killed us then and there.)

The theme of the piece is supposed to be "Oh, The Places You'll Go...Back To," highlighting the special connections alums have with different parts of the campus. My boss wants me to set up photo shoots with folks at those different locations. But as I learn very quickly, even someone who loved the Tower Room 60 years ago isn't going to hike those stairs any more.

So I ask all the passers-by where's the first spot they came back to, and everyone thinks they're the only person to come up with"the bathroom." The older alums tend to mention the Hanover Inn, the younger ones EBAs. A few can still rattle off the number for Stinson's from memory. But the overwhelming sentiment is that the places are secondary it is the people that everyone is coming back to see.

Everyone seems to relish sharing their achievements as well as their foibles. And dirty jokes abound ask anyone from the class of '44 about the guy who swallowed a tooth.

While I know I'll want to come back and see how the Jack-O-Lantern office is doing, and I'm sure I'll swing by Zeta Psi for a few games of pong, what I'm looking forward to most is finding the joy of coming together that characterizes the reuners from all classes, and sharing some lobster with whichever bright-eyed magazine intern swings by my tent.

Marv '59 and Nancy Sezak and Lee '59 and Judy Wilson tuck into the lobster.

Mike Biggs jams in the '54 tent.