College of William and Mary - Colonial Echo Yearbook (Williamsburg, VA)

Page 12 text:

:fun .x.. '- l 'H ,,,f- . 10 0 -. - .41-' '5--4?A lo ' ..- ' ,.. - ai ' . . v ,. ...' :v-fu' 'N Mqi-, , ' ' . , ,.-ww 1' .. - W .s Af' P .1 U, Adu ' . W V Qadfw f 1 Jafar, A I 984' . ,. - .,-34 gg' 4, 33. J rl' . vs- -I-', -v ' V 'I Wa'X. rt? X, k ' M 'f ' A Q4 4 ,V win

Page 11 text:

'Qi- 'ltg ,ar 6. . 1--, M Y'- ' -. nr HA - A sunrise over the ocean at Virginia Beach sets a peaceful sky afire. Abandoned as a working theatre since 1976, the old Common Glory outdoor amphitheatre rots slowly away under the curious gaze of infrequent explorers. The Sunken Gardens provide one long central lawn for relaxing, reading and looking around, The Simple Life Think about it: the days had an almost classic quality to them. Beyond the mushrooming of the classic preppie look, that is. Pattern and routine were set, fol- lowing the common prize - education. Of course, dif- ferent people had their own particular fand sometimes oddj idea of just what knowledge was and how to get it. But a simple truth fused the College together: people were dedicated to a traditional, demanding curriculum, or if they weren't, they didn't cut it here for very long. Now, that preceding sentence came off sounding stiff and proper, I realize. No one glided through the halls of Wren or Millington spiritually infused with the light of wisdom. Most of us fcontinued on page 9J Introduction ! 7

Page 13 text:

X ,I-'I -m,'.:. at 1 it Sf? .F rg' . r 56 t 4 Q ef-:Y ,f icontinued from page 7l spent our time wrestling far into the night with textbooks, and bitching about the workload to each other. Ah yes, sweet reality. And so the days unwound in typical workaholic fashion, highlighted here and there by frustrated screams in the night fespecially popular at Bryan Complex during read- ing periodl, and frenetic outbursts of drinking, dancing and silliness that occasionally broke the tension. Hunt and Tyler residents deserve applause for enduring the Pub and CC Ballroom fallout for the entire year. But as neurotic as life may have been, at least there was usually a comfortable rhythm beneath the chaos. No matter if the victim was freshman, grad student or professor, an eight o'clock class was still torture, a three-thirty one almost an obscenity. Football players, philo majors and janitors alike clutched their styrofoam coffee cups in the Wig. Day students and dorm dwell- ers battled for parking spaces. On Friday afternoons people flipped through the Flat Hat to see which idiot wrote the latest letter to the editor. And generally we kept on moving: through classes and studies, parties and procrastination, through meals at the caf and trips to High's, through group meetings, advisor conferences, through money at the Bookstore and time spent over typewriter or test tube or keypunch machine. Sure, life was simple. But no one said that simple meant easy. From the Outside In On one of those thick, moist September afternoons that made me wonder why l'd ever transplanted myself from up north, I had dug in under a tree in the Wren Yard to do some reading. That's a joke, of course, ev- eryone knows the real objects of study in the Wren Cars rest in the parking lot at IBT before heading a mile back to campus in the morning. Bright days bring sun worshippers out to the local beach at Soror- ity Court. Morning fog obscures the vista down Duke of Gloucester IDOGI Street from College Corner. Il ists for the best reason of all: they reminded me how lucky I was to be here. ' Yard are the passers-by. Especially if they were tourists. Most choice were the fully-bedecked models, complete with camera around neck and tour-number tag around coat button. Although screaming hordes of fifth graders in pressed-felt tricorns were kind of good too. Guess it's all a matter of taste. If nothing else, they're another top- ff ,f Meeting outside the campus post office, two friends stop to talk be- tween Tuesday-Thursday classes. ic of conversation besides the lousy social life, the killer schoolwork and the occasionally psychotic professors. But I came to appreciate tourists for the best reason of all: they reminded me how lucky I was to be here. Not that I didn't work hard, and pay my way, and abso- lutely detest the place at times. Because, especially at those times, it was simple to forget how breathtakingly lovely the campus is. Or forget how romantic the fanta- sy-like timelessness of the atmosphere is. Or forget how special this collection of brilliant people that surrounded me here everyday is, in those places tourists come from. Introduction 191 But I came to appreciate tour-' Q.-...R ,A W. I r I I ' eg' A. WT .. T Eg. ' Q. A., Ties.: 1-3 .- f.,..' gg-hx 4 .W TW f O