Fairmont State University - Mound Yearbook (Fairmont, WV)

Page 8 text:

! m j k » V 3S- is A«tei?

Page 7 text:

Fairmont 9tate College is a part of Fairmont — is a part of West Virginia I walked down the small embankment along Locust Avenue only feet away from the beautiful FSC campus. It was dark when I stepped onto the campus sidewalk. I became mesmerized by the mystical picture before me: morning had broken and dawn was blooming atop the Fine Arts Building. At that v ery moment I was glad I was at Fairmont State College, but, more than that, I was glad I was in West Virginia. 15559 9

Page 9 text:

Memories make West Virginia ' West Virginia ' I remember when I was only three and would walk down a little narrow path that linked our home in Clarksburg to a grape arbor and raspberry orchard out back. In the summer when the path was dusty, I ' d stomp in the dry earth and send small clouds of dust into the air only inches from the ground. Some of the dust would rest on the tops of my feet and on my legs. The dirt felt so good: I ' d wiggle my toes to allow the cold earth to seep up between them. The sensation made me smile then. Upon reaching the.arbor and orchard, I ' d stuff as many grapes and raspberries into my little mouth as I possibly could. They tasted so good: I ' d eat until I didn ' t think I ' d ever eat again. And, then, with stained purple hands and fingers, dusty brown legs and feet, and a protruding aching belly, I ' d trudge back up the path to the house. After I got near our home, I ' d hide from my mother because I had eaten her fruits for jellies and had gotten terribly dirty. Somehow, she never seemed to mind when she found me. Now I realize it was a very natural thing and she never punished me for living and learning those natural things. She ' s a West Virginia lady. Now whenever I go home in the summer, I usually take a few private moments to walk barefoot down that quiet dusty path. I even smile when I stop to cool my toes in the dirt. The arbor and orchard are gone now, but my memories still linger. I close my eyes on the sites of those precious thoughts and I can still taste their splendor. I was only twenty-two when I remembered a living experience from the age of three. OPPOSITE PAGE: A Fairmont family enjoys the summer Bluegrass festival. TOP: Garden Lanes ' residents use this path as a shortcut. BELOW: Student Center. RIGHT: Irises.