Before applying to college in 1963, I spent a number of weekends visiting
prospective schools in Ohio and Pennsylvania. I had already heard a lot about
Smithson College from my first cousin, Fred who was then in his senior year and
full of stories about wild parties, road trips, and other mayhem. As a
scholarship kid, he lived inexpensively off campus by renting a room from a
widow who worked as a children’s librarian in the public library. In exchange
for a modest rent and help around the house and yard, Fred enjoyed the benefits
of
