Back in my non-coed days, Williams was not on my radar at all. I doubt that I had heard of it when I tripped off to the city lights of Manhattan to go to college. I could not have imagined going to college in the wilds of western Mass. It was all Manhattan for me all the way.
My introduction to Williams came through some of the earlier reunions. I enjoyed them. I was surprised to encounter Williams grads I knew from other avenues of my life, and I looked forward to visiting with Arthur’s more far-flung friends.
Over the years of reunions and other alumni events, it was activities and places that showcased Williams at its best that formed trove of good memories—lectures by outstanding Williams faculty, remarks by fellow classmates, the Williams College art gallery (and the Clark, although it is not a Williams institution), a visit to the forest where environmental assessments are conducted, the climb up Pine Cobble, and my first experience of the internet, to mention a few.
The Oxford week afforded many opportunities to create good memories—provocative lectures by very knowledgeable and talented tutors, visits to splendid museums/stately homes, exposure to the particularly English art and science of the garden/park when herbaceous borders were in full bloom, a chance to peek into the hallowed halls which have housed centuries of intellectual achievement, a glimpse of the determined British character at Bletchley Park, obtaining advice from an unbiased Williams source before purchasing in Oxford.
Above all there was laughter and endless talk with people I knew previously or had just met for the first time and look forward to seeing again.
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