2015 LC SUMMER MAGAZINE

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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
munchies.
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 20th 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
wildly.
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
adventures.
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 20th Century American Literature class.
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