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Page 33 text:
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M o V e n
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Page 32 text:
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That first day Getting ready to go away to college can be a monumental task — especially if it ' s the freshman ' s first time away from home. Mom probably began in July putting boxes in the middle of the living room floor, filled with the essentials of life; sheets, towels, underwear. You made sure the stereo and television set were properly packed. Dad looked at it all and wondered how he was going to fit it into the Toyota. But somehow, it all fit, even if you did have to leave the couch at home. (It could always come up next trip.) Everyone got up early on Sunday morning, Sept. 18, 1977. It was a nice day, unseasonably warm, unfortunately, it would rain most of the next week. All summer long, you had been excited about going away to college, watching enviously as all of your friends left school before you did. But now that the moment was finally here, there was a little bit of apprehension, as you contemplated, for a split second, if it wouldn ' t be better to go to school near home and commute. But your housing at Northeastern had already been paid for and your little sister had already moved into your old room. There was no turning back. After packing, unpacking and repacking the car a few times, you were ready to go. Packing the car could have been done the night before, but then none of the neighbors would have seen Mom and Dad getting ready to take their little scholar to college. At last everyone was ready, everything was in the car and you were about to leave. It was 7 a.m. you only lived an hour away from Boston and the dorms wouldn ' t even open until 9 a.m. Boston. America ' s number one college town. After getting lost and driving by Harvard, MIT, Boston College, and Boston University, you finally found Northeastern. Mom asked if there wasn ' t some mistake. It didn ' t look like the pictures in any of the catalogs they sent you and you began to realize why. Finally Dad found a parking space a half mile away from your dorm and you began to unpack. You walked up the steps, entered the lobby, your arms loaded down with cartons. The pleasant girl at the table looked your name up, gave you your room key and asked for a dollar for the dorm fund. Undaunted, you gave her the money without question. After all, it was only a dollar. It would be a portent of things to come. You got to your room. Your roommate had already moved in. With horror you realized you now had two stereos, two refrigerators, two television sets and two matching sets of bedspreads. Mom hung up all your clothes in the closet, made up the bed and sprayed the room generously with Lysol. At least you had a place to sleep that night. Next came an important step in your initiation into life at North eastern. You waited in line for the first time, this time at Cabot Gym to get your ID card. Over the course of the next five years you would wait in line many times for many things. At times it would seem like you had to wait in line to do anything at Northeastern. While you were getting your picture taken Mom was back at the room occupied with the finishing touches, putting the family pictures on your bookshelf and making sure for one last time you had enough underwear. Then it was time for your first meal in the cafeteria. You vaguely remembered reading something in a Northeastern catalog, (the same one with a picture on the cover that made the Quad look as big as Boston Common) that boasted about the quality of dorm food. How bad could it be? You couldn ' t possibly get sick from it. Well it looked okay anyway. It was roast beef and the whole family got to eat for free. Mom asked if they served roast beef every Sunday. The cafeteria manager looked at her like she was crazy. She liked the idea that you could go back for seconds. You liked the ice cream machine and no one around to tell you to eat everything on your plate. In fact, at first impression cafeteria food didn ' t seem that bad. First impressions are sometimes wrong. It was time for Mom and Dad and all your little brothers and sisters to leave. Mom tried not to cry and told you to be sure to write. Dad pressed a $20 bill in your hand and told you to have a good time, but to be sure and stay out of trouble. You said you would and crossed your fingers behind your back. Then they were gone and you were alone, with 400 other people.
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