The APB

It's always strange to return here and see everything with older eyes. If I look around long enough, I can almost trick myself into believing I'm still an enrolled student and not some nostalgic alumnus. I pass by familiar buildings whose names I still remember because they were central to my college experience: Shapell, Bannan, Orradre, Graham and Benson. Especially Benson, the student center. It's where I spent most of my time on campus, when not in class.

For three of my four years, I was part of the Activities Programming Board's staff. The APB programmed weekly events (on and off campus) and booked speakers, comedians and bands. The organization's office was located in Benson's basement and it became my home away from home.

Earlier, as I descended the stairs to check out the old office, I saw a sign hanging near one of the doors at the end of the hallway. The office was still there. On the sign, below the name, were the words, "Est. 1994". It had been over ten years since the APB's creation. At that time, the university had taken two independent organizations and consolidated them for budgetary reasons. The administration asked the two boards to create a new identity and mission for the newly combined group. Through our collective efforts, the APB was born.

Near the end of the 1993-94 school year, APB's inaugural year, our group performed at some function in the quad of Swig Hall, the school's largest dormitory. Somebody on our staff wrote lyrics set to the Brady Bunch theme to commemorate how two different and distinct "families" had come together. Singing that song was one of my happiest, most embarrassing and most vivid college memories.

Benson has two staircases leading to its basement. Five frames hang on the walls of each stairwell. As I came up the stairs, I spotted APB's frame, which had the pictures of the past year's staff. Their heads were set against blue squares; their smiling faces looking up, down and to the side in the style of Brady Bunch, a tribute to APB's roots. As I stared at the photos, the faces transformed into faces from the past. We were them many years ago. I sighed. It was happiness and sadness all rolled into one big exhale. Simple things move me and I treasure the memories.