In September of 1964, as my family’s green Chevy pulled away from campus, I choked up. I wondered what the heck am I doing? I know NOBODY here, and I am seven hundred miles from home.
I had been a popular and capable student-athlete during high school. However, as a naïve eighteen-year-old, I wasn’t ready for my new situation. To varying degrees, the young men in my dormitory who became my best friends were unprepared as well. Though we were from different states (more like different worlds) we shared common frustrations. We were homesick and we didn’t fit Baylor University’s upbeat-but-sometimes-uptight Southern Baptist model.
We tried to integrate. We attended classes, we studied, we took exams, and we went to some of Baylor’s sporting events. However, none of us dated or was involved in campus social life. None of us had much money. We often felt very isolated and bored. Those factors and our flawed group-think led us to some unwise choices. Though we tried to spend our free time creating harmless fun. As you will read, a LOT of it wasn’t harmless.
