I left home at 16, in a sense, never to come back. I was young, I was brash, and I was looking forward to meeting head on, four of the most challenging and unforgettable years of my life. For the first time, I was alone, and for the first time, I was completely surrounded by brilliant people whose academic preparation sadly exposed the magnitude of the shortcomings of my own high school education.
I have visited my old college campus many times since I left it as a student many years ago. While more and more buildings have sprouted from what were once open fields, and Camp Big Falcon has risen from what once was the shortcut to Bel; while traffic has since gone from bad to really god-awful, and somehow you think that less girls are wearing shorts now; as sappy as it sounds, somehow, you still feel that you are home.
