We were lucky it didn't snow. Driving on Interstate 71 could have been treacherous and parking and unloading in front of the dorm troublesome. Instead, the sun was shining and students flashing white smiles in sweaters and sweatshirts were yelling, carrying televisions, dropping pillows, and generally enjoying the sunny afternoon as they latched onto friends and pulled away from parents. It was the first day of Winter Quarter, January 2, 1963, at Ohio State University. The afternoon was cool, and the smell of Canoe and Jean Nate' drifted on the light air. Most of the students were returning to their campus lives after winter break. I was just beginning mine. I hadn't been with these students in the Fall when they met their roommates, selected their bunks, and decorated Homecoming floats. I was working at Union Commerce Bank, 140 miles away in Cleveland, in an office building high above the tiny ants in suits, high heels and dresses that were caught like sails by the wind off the lake.
* * *
For as long as I can remember, I had planned to work a year before college. For one thing, I was a year younger than most of my classmates. Also, I had an older brother whom I thought would enter college before I did. As it turns out he didn’t, but that is a story for another time. I went out job hunting the first Monday morning after I graduated from high school. My mother woke me before dawn with a list of places to apply. All were downtown banks where I would be among young people rather than old fogies; she was very smart, my mother. When I stepped off the bus in front of the Terminal Tower I almost made a bee-line for the Rexall soda fountain across the street. I wanted to put off this job-hunting experience as long as possible, but I walked purposefully toward the first bank. Crowds of people huddled at bus stops, waited at crossing lights and marched together like soldiers in cross walks. I had never before noticed how many downtown workers were in Cleveland on a weekday morning. I walked through the revolving door of Union Commerce Bank and into the open marbled lobby where I asked a grandfatherly uniformed guard for directions to the employment office.
* * *
On the sidewalk in front of the dormitory I recognized no one, and if I hadn’t known better I would have thought these people had been apart for years rather than weeks. I weaved around handsome couples holding hands, girls catching up on news as they tucked stray locks of hair behind their ears, and friends arranging early-evening meetings for beer, pizza, and movies. I stopped at the front desk for my key and found my room easily when I stepped off the elevator. It was at the end of the hall which was surprisingly quiet except for the sound of Moon River softly streaming from under a closed door. I entered without knocking and got my first look at the room I would call home for the next six months. Two single beds stood at each side of a large window that looked out onto the street in front of the entrance four stories below. I could barely hear the noise of the cars and people as I sat on the beige heating unit in front of the window and looked out. Lost in thought, I hardly noticed my parents enter behind me with the rest of my suitcases. They seemed out of place here, as did I. Their clothes were less stylish and their faces more wrinkled than those of other parents. I smiled at my mother, and then my dad, at once ashamed of my comparison, my heart almost bursting with love for these two wise, loving people who always put their wishes after mine. I wanted them to stay awhile, walk around campus, and get a cup of coffee. I didn't want my old life to end so abruptly. Maybe I didn't want it to end at all, but they were anxious to get home, avoid traffic, take advantage of the good driving conditions, move on and let go.
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