Oil on canvas. This painting is at the National Gallery of Art in Washington, D.C.
Oil on canvas. This painting is at the National Gallery of Art in Washington, D.C.
Pictured are Monroe Hall, Virginia Hall, Campus Walk, Lee Hall, and Trinkle Hall.
*****
The Mary Washington College Campus looked as beautiful as ever last week — it was only marred by the occasional sign bearing an embarrassing misprint. (They perplexingly refer to the misnomer “University of Mary Washington.”)
At first I hesitated to visit the campus during my stop in Fredericksburg, Virginia on my way to Washington, D.C. I asked my Alumbud if two men in their 40’s would look suspicious there, given the increased security on today’s college campuses. He told me to relax — people would assume we were two fathers scouting the school for their respective offspring. That made me feel really, really old.
Monroe Hall and The Fountain. When I went to school at MWC, that fountain was occasionally doused with either detergent or dye as a prank.
Virginia Hall. In the early 1990’s, this was a dorm exclusively for freshmen girls; I don’t know if that’s still the case today.
You can’t see it here, but beyond that hedge and beside Monroe is Campus Drive, curving down past the amphitheater to Sunken Road. The long hill is still entirely wooded, and is still arguably the prettiest part of campus.
Campus Walk and Lee Hall.
This is cute. I’m guessing it was a product of the recent remodeling? But which way to Winterfell? Metropolis? Which way is Caprica City? I have tickets for a Buccaneers game next week.
Here is where the College Bookstore used to be (beside the Campus Police Station in the lower part of Lee); I’m told now that it’s in a vastly larger space upstairs.
And The Underground has returned! It closed after my freshman year in 1990-91. I met a lot of good friends there, and I heard my first live blues at The Underground, too, performed by Saffire, The Uppity Blues Women. (I only just now learned that Saffire’s Ann Rabson sadly passed away in 2013.)
[Update: an alumna just told me that she can remember when The Underground was called “The Pub.”]
Campus Walk and Trinkle Hall. My Alumbud reminded of what seemed like a big issue back in the day — the students’ desire to have a 24-hour study hall. They successfully petitioned the college administration for it, and at some point toward the end of my college career, Trinkle began staying open all night. If that sounds incredibly nerdy, it was. But it was also a pretty big quality-of-life issue for the dorms. A lot of people needed a place to go to cram before finals, in order to keep the peace with a sleeping roommate.
The “computer pods” were also located here, downstairs, in a basementish-type space that was air-conditioned to the point where it felt freezing. You always had to bring a jacket or sweater to do your work there.
Looking south on Campus Walk, you can just barely make out the Bell Tower, a product of the campus remodeling. You used to be able to see Bushnell Hall, my freshman-year dormitory.
The bust of Dr. James L. Farmer, Jr. that the school erected opposite Trinkle Hall in 2001. He was one of the nation’s foremost leaders in the Civil Rights movement, founding the Congress on Racial Equality (CORE) and organizing the “Freedom Rides” to desegregate interstate bus travel. Dr. Farmer was my Civil Rights professor in 1992, and he was universally admired by his students.
Some weird old guy wandered into the photo here — sorry about that.
These were among some finds at the National Gallery of Art in Washington, D.C. yesterday — they were taken by a very dear friend and my traveling companion. She is not only extremely versed in art, but is also a far better photographer than me. (Very few of my pictures turned out well.)
This Internet thingy, however, allows me to easily abscond with her work and then share it with you. (I’ll run my inferior shots tomorrow.)
I visited the gardens at Dumbarton Oaks in Georgetown the other day — after a cruise down Wisconsin Avenue past a couple of old haunts I frequented in my 20’s with characters like Nickolai Butkevich and Rhett Carlson.
The gardens were beautiful, and a sharp fir smell greets entrants like a rarefied, ethereal, quiet host. It reminded me of Brooklyn Botanical Gardens, another quiet place to which I’d like to return one day.
If you’re in the Washington area, and you’d like to see for yourself, check out Dumbarton Oaks’ website here: