The plaza between Johnson and Fowler Halls boasted two flag poles -- one with the US flag flying high, and the other with an orange and black Oxy flag -- I don't remember seeing that before, either, but since it is marked by the official seal current when I was a student -- the lamp of knowledge, clearly and simply displayed -- instead of the dismal attempt at everything-but-the-kitchen-sink pseudo-heraldry now disgracefully put forward as the Occidental "arms," the flag was a happy reminder of Oxy during my time there.  At the base of the stairs, along with the sign-in pavilions, where newly-arriving alums picked up their registration packets, Alumni Week t-shirts, etc.,  were now set up beverage tables -- no-host bar with wine, beer, mixed drinks, and sodas.  Buffet tables were being filled with a happy variety of comestables, tables and chairs were scattered under the trees between the Union and the Library, and a band was setting up with its back to the Herrick Chapel fountain, the sun setting behind them.  

I knew no one there -- this wasn't a reunion year for my class of 1966 (and I don't think my friends were ever the reunion type anyway, any more than I have been) -- but I sat with some '68 grads and we had a delightful evening.  The group included a woman who graduated in 1967 who now teaches in Oxy's math department (even though she's ABD),  and at least one fellow from Washington State -- Port Angeles, I think.  When they learned I was from the University of Washington, what was everyone interested in?  Our academics?  Our budget woes?  No -- our football coach who had just been fired for gambling on this year's Final Four basketball tournament.  *sigh*  

The meal was geat -- teriyaki chicken, roast pork loin, whole roast suckling pig(s)!, rice, vegetable stirfries, noodles, etc.  And plain white rolls.  Huh?  How did those get in there?   The band played those '60s tunes, a bevy of children pranced around on the portable dance floor batting beach balls and chasing the Oxy Tiger (must have been hot in that tiger costume!).  As it got dark and most people finished eating, the entertainment changed to a "Royal Tahitian" type show -- South Pacific dancers (including one boy who could have been from Ballard, you betcha!) -- lots of intricate drumming, music, firee dancing -- probably more floor show than authentic cultural display, but lots of fun.  After the show was over, the band returned, and those alums who did not turn into pumpkins at dark stayed to dance and mingle some more.  I, however, returned to the dorm around 9:45 -- at 10:00 there were bangs and booms from behind the dorm and I guessed there might be fireworks.  Didn't go looking for them, however, but the next morning another woman staying in the dorm said she had heard them too -- we decided they came from a private party in the hills back of campus.  It was a lovely evening all around.

Saturday, June 14

Saturday morning I dressed in my Oxy Alumni Weekend t-shirt and went downstairs where there was coffee waiting for early risers, along with pastries, juice, etc.  A couple were sitting out on the front porch, overlooking the orange trees and the walk down to campus, and I joined them, talking of how things had changed or were the same since we were students here.  The woman was from the class of 1973, and the difference between her memoris and mine was striking -- by 1973 lots of people were living off campus, more people went off campus just to eat or shop or hang out than we ever did, and the dorms were pretty much completely co-ed.  She had been a peer-adviser in Stewart (or one of the other previously all-male dorms), and her presence, she said, had been a ploy on the part of the administration to "civilize" those residents -- evidently it worked, as furniture and vending machines were dropped from the balconies only once a quarter or so during her tenure rather than weekly as before.  My -- Oxy changed some between 1966 and 1973!

I had signed up for breakfast in the Union, so soon headed in that direction.  The Union has been completely redone into a kind of "scramble" arrangement -- instead of orderly passage through a static cafeteria line, patrons wander from station to station, procuring omlets and fruits and pastries and cereals, etc., at will.  There's one station called "Clancy's Homestyle Favorites," but I imagine there are very few who remember Clancy any more.  (There is also a "Morrison Lounge" along the Union patio corridor -- I think that may have been dedicated at her "retirement," before she was recalled to take over Oxy's food service once again.)  The food today is excellent -- it was good in Clancy's day, too, thouggh college students seem always to complain about the food -- did then, and I'll bet they do now.   The Old Union is still intact -- even though I never ate there (the lines were slower and the sorority/fraternity kids and athletes ate in the Old Union -- the English Majors ate in the New Union, where there wasn't nearly so much atmosphere, but the lines were much quicker -- or so it seemed), I was happy to see the wooden tables and leather chairs and the Tiger in his place of honor.  And I do remember wiping down all those tables and chairs and bussing those dishes.

Taking time for breakfast, I missed the discussion on the future of Oxy with the current President, but I did get to a panel discussion on the Middle East in Johnson Hall.  The interior of Johnson has been heavily renovated and the classrooms are very much up to date.  The administration offices are now in Coons, the building up the hill between Johnson and Fowler which was being built as I was graduating.  About 50 alums showed up for the discussion, and there were a number of talks on other subjects scattered across campus.  I passed on a second series, however, and went shopping at the bookstore -- bought postcards and a little tiger, a hat (!) and another t-shirt -- rather shocked the cashier when I also bought a blue book ("are you regressing?!" she asked).  But I hadn't brought a journal, and at $.25, the blue book turned out to be an inspired purchase -- folded up and stuffed into my purse, it was easily available for notes the whole weekend.

The rest of the morning was spent sipping on an iced mocha on the new patio area outside the bookstore, watching returning alumni wandering by or eavesdropping on their conversations as they sat at nearby tables.  Large groups of what looked like visiting students (being recruited?) trooped by with guides pointing out sights -- looks as if diversity outreach is well and flourishing at Oxy -- an interesting confluence of groups -- the middle-aged white guys and the adolescent multicultural kids.  As we had discussed on Haines porch earlier that morning, in our day, "diversity" meant someone from New York or Chicago or Washington State!   Many things are the same at Oxy, but some have definitely changed!

What has not changed?  It is still so beautiful.