Photoessay #2809 - The magic

I had an extraordinary experience with my informally organized 40 year reunion with my fellow Crownies.  Eleven of us (or so).  Including my old college boyfriend and, of course, my college roommate.  We attended an afternoon reception and then out to dinner.  A little the night before.  Likely I do not have a good picture.  But what struck me and J was the sweet spirit of the whole thing.  How everybody who came was clearly interested in the others and there was a string that connected us together. 

Even if we had not seen each other for 40 years.  And even if we had not known each other all that well then.  Not much reminiscing but the connection was strong.  And though I had not recognized  before, many of the group were Jewish, probably the most Jewish community I ever was part of.  Even though there was little or any observance.

Maybe that's characteristic of 40 years.  I think it's more.  I know it's more.

Looking back and, even more strongly, knowing then, that this as an extraordinary time and place, with exceptional people.  UCSC, 1970,  Crown College. My high hopes drove my high expectations.  And when I walked into Crown College in September 1970, I entered into a world of enchantment.  Exaggerated? Maybe.  I immediately became a member of this new tightly knit social and intellectual community.  My classmates, all highly intelligent, curious and talented.  For myself, participating socially felt heaven-sent. The organization and living arrangement fostered strong community.  The fixed meal times with the long tables.  If you wanted to talk to another student, or even faculty, just wait until the next meal; you could find them.

Barry referred to it as magic.  Yes, I felt it.

The surroundings?  Before I went, I thought the sand-dappled redwood forest with vistas over the rolling hill to the stunning views of Monterey Bay as the most beautiful place in the whole world.  I still do.  That's where I lived!  I could scarcely believe it!

Crown College enrolled 400 undergraduates, so my class was under 100.  The whole campus contatined 3600 students, now 16K.  Some of California's  brightest and often eccentric students.  Electronics did not take any stage.  One TV in the fireside lounge.  One phone on each dom floor; we rarely used them.  Face to face relationships prevailed.  And everybody was so smart and funny!  I could do as I pleased with tons of friends.  Uncle Charlie's Summer Camp?  Yes.  Slow dance in the sun?  Yes, yes.  Practically ground central of the counter culture?  Yes.

I was all in.  Completely and utterly.

Of course, I suffered heartbreak and disappointment along the way.  I took classes and studied.  Life wore on, even in that magical place.

In my cohort, in the northwestern city where Ilive, I recognize that nobody else had this experience.  How could they? And most did not have such an intense experience even in other places. My children who went to college, they had friends.  But nothing like this.

When I first started writing memoir, I wanted to write about it.  But I could not come up with enough details.

But the gentle group of this weekend? We did not speak of it much.  But we all knew that we had been there.  Together.  We all liked each other before.  And we still had that connection.