Sometimes, Reality Crept In

             During a night long past when flames destroyed the main building of the Methodist college in Arkadelphia, Arkansas, students and townspeople congregated, affirmed their desire to continue. From that singular commitment in 1914, streams of like-minded young people have whispered a vow to uphold the spirit and tradition of the 1890 Henderson College.

Lush foliage and a plush carpet of greenspace amid planned paths and scattered benches suggest a sanctuary, a haven, a home. A stream meanders through campus, separating the academic campus from the residential and athletic spaces. Spanned by concrete and an iron railed bridge, a narrow, rocky gully with its trickling water forms what some call “the ravine.” The lasting beauty of the holly lingers season into season, honoring heritage and promising a future. Under the stalwart stands of pine, a family of red brick buildings wraps arms around those who shape the decades.

            Some college campuses in the mid-1960’s mirrored the nation’s angst. Immersed in a throwback culture, however, students on this idyllic campus were embraced by the college and the community; together, they were able to keep the world’s troubles at bay, at least for a few more years.

            Our years at Henderson concluded the decade with vibrant homecoming corsages, chaperoned formal dances, military events, fraternity parties, and beach blanket bingo at the Ouachita River. This college cocooned its students, guarded them with omnipotent deans and omniscient dorm mothers. Students’ daylight hours swelled with classes and requisite student union hours. At the various tables in the Student Union, collegians snacked, smoked, and read letters from home. Newspapers, passed table to table, detailed Vietnam politics, casualties, and the latest betting line at Oaklawn. Background music came from the juke box, fueled by quarter after quarter.

By nine in the evening, students had vacated the library and the campus. Doors throughout the dorms were locked. A rare panty raid or calls from a spurned lover might startle the night. The dorms were quiet. The worst that could happen didn’t.

            A caucus of friends opened the door at any knock. That is why I was caught by surprise one late Spring evening. My roommate was away and I heard a knock at my door. When I opened it, a teary-eyed friend who had turned the corner into adulthood walked in.   (to be continued...)