Table of Contents Table of Contents
Previous Page  33 / 58 Next Page
Show Menu
Previous Page 33 / 58 Next Page
Page Background

I also remember the basement

room in Asbury Hall, where the guys

sometimes asked our advice on laundry,

as if being female made us inherent

experts. There were an awful lot of pink-

tinged white shirts and underwear at

first, until we all got the hang of it.

We learned another lesson at

mealtimes. The cafeteria lines were

chilly on the quad side, but friends and

I soon realized that the upstairs indoor

line was a lot warmer. My favorite meal

was Sunday brunch with roast beef, and

mac and cheese, but ice cream night

was good, too, with endless dishes of

Herr’s chocolate chip mint or peanut

butter swirl. On pie nights, we would

try to smuggle wrapped slices back to

our dorms in our pockets for a midnight

snack and, during finals, care packages

would arrive containing less contraband


I recall how hard it was to roll out of

bed and stumble to classes after a late

night before. Did the dorms ever get

quiet enough to sleep? The wonderful

aroma emanating from Stroehmann’s

bread factory would revive us as soon as

we exited the building in the morning.

Can you remember the self-discipline

we had to learn in order to carve out time

to study? The professors did their best to

teach us how to examine and question

what we hear, see, and read; how to think

for ourselves; and how to learn — not

just in class but also for the rest of our

lives. In an increasingly specialized

world with specialized degrees, I believe

the liberal arts education we received

at Lycoming enables us to see the big

picture in whatever we do.

New worlds opened up to me while

exploring metaphysics with John Whalen

and discovering the dark humor in

Faulkner’s “Light in August” in David

Rife’s 20


Century American Literature

class. Julia Rux instilled a lifelong

interest for social history and genealogy

in her course on immigration. I will

never forget seeing my first nude male

model in Roger Shipley’s Life Drawing

class. It wasn’t that I hadn’t seen a nude

figure before, he was just so amazingly

casual about it. It took me a few minutes

before I could stop staring and apply

my charcoal stick to drawing paper. But

soon, I learned to see the human body as

an art form.

One of the biggest differences I

noticed on the Lycoming campus since

our time there is the change in recreation

facilities. Does anyone else recall the

little bowling alley in the old gym, which

had two lanes, where we had to set the

pins manually?

The most common recreation in 1976

was the fraternity parties in East Hall.

Upper class males rushed the freshman

girls in the first week of classes, much

to the chagrin of the freshman boys.

I remember having to sheepishly pass

by the stern gaze of my grandfather’s

portrait in Long Hall on Saturday

mornings after a Friday night event at

my dad’s old frat, KDR. Grandfather

Long would have disapproved of the

streakers in the courtyard of Skeath, too,

but we really enjoyed them and cheered


By the time Parents Day rolled

around in October, we had adapted so

well to campus life, that our parents

were astonished (or maybe a little

disappointed) to find that any trace

of homesickness was gone. We had

quickly become a real community and

that cohesiveness stayed with us over

the next four years. It lasted through

football games, candlelight Christmas

services in Clarke Chapel, the carillon

concerts at lunch hour, the Greek

Games, internships, cramming for

exams in Snowden Library, listening to

the college radio station, and off-campus


I also worked in the art department

with Jean Gair, my guardian angel, and

helped host art exhibits with the Bogles

in what is now the admissions office. The

talented Terry Wild was a big influence

on me. I was his teaching assistant my

senior year and took photos for the 1980

Arrow. Then there was the tearing down

of the Angel Factory, the old Dickinson

cemetery gates, and the surrounding

elms during our senior year, all of which

made way for the new gym and the

modern campus that stands today.

One of my last memories of my time

at Lycoming is of Senior Week right

before our commencement in 1980,

when I sneaked into Bradley Hall with

my roommate to take some final pictures

before they tore that structure down, too.

The campus in 2013 was still familiar

enough to bring back all of these

memories. Of course, now there are new

state-of-the-art buildings that provide

easy access to all, Wi-Fi, cell phone

service, and fancier dining facilities and

landscaping, but it’s still our Lycoming.

Every class will take away similar

recollections, with slight variations

over the years and, like ours, they will

last a lifetime. Every time we visit these

memories or the campus, it will feel like

coming home.

—Joanne Long Fenstermacher ’80, lives in

Simsbury, Connecticut, with her husband,

Peter Drew Fenstermacher ’79. They can be

reached at


New worlds opened up to me while exploring metaphysics with John Whalen

and discovering the dark humor in Faulkner’s “Light in August”

in David Rife’s 20


Century American Literature class.