Reminiscing

I found myself in Ogden last night. My friend Tammy got married, and I went up for her reception. It was held at the Alumni Center on the campus of Weber State University. It's a beautiful facility, and it was a nice reception. Tammy looked great, as did her husband. I got to talk to her only momentarily; there were a lot of people there, and she was the featured attraction, after all.

Once she recognized me (it's been a while), Tammy thanked me for making the arduous journey from Salt Lake City and wished me a safe return trip. I congratulated her (and Matt) and wished her the best for the future. It was only quite a bit later that I realized that I hadn't wished her better luck than I'd had. My cynicism hasn't entirely overtaken me, I guess.

There were a couple of people I was hoping might be at the reception, but I didn't see any of them. On the other hand, there was at least one person I dreaded running into, and that didn't happen either. So I suppose it's a wash.

I also got to spend a little time with the old gaming group: Curtis, Jon, Heath, and Brian. Lesslie was working and consequently absent. We talked about a lot of things: old campaigns, absent friends (Bill), future plans, music, movies, and a lot of hard-core geek stuff, to be perfectly honest. I came to realize last night that I had more close friends in Curtis' living room than I have in all of Salt Lake City. It does my heart good to see those folks.

With bus schedules being what they are, I had a bit of available time before, after, and between events. So I took the opportunity to wander around campus a little. I lived in Ogden for about a decade, and I was a student at Weber State for a couple of years. The walk brought back a lot of memories.

I got off the bus in front of the Ogden LDS Institute of Religion. I took a lot Institute classes while I was at Weber, and I was a member of one of the choirs there for seven years. I also went to church there as a member of a student ward. I can't even begin to count the number of people I met there - friends, dates, teachers, leaders. That's where I met Tammy, in fact. A big chunk of my life is tied to that building.

I crossed the street to a small plaza where I'm sure an information kiosk used to stand. I walked past the business building, where my Uncle Jim had helped me find a place to live when I first moved here after my mission. Opposite that was the social science building, where I ran a little coffee and donut stand for campus food service one year.

I took the sidewalk between the student services building and the Student Union, past the duck pond where the annual Pioneer Day concert and fireworks show was held. Looking up past the Union, I saw the old art building. I thought of a girl named Tracy who had worked in that building, with whom I had developed an unusual friendship: almost instant, deep, uncharacteristically platonic. I gave her advice about getting married, as I recall. (I don't remember what it was.) I also remembered Mary, an art education student I dated for a while. I wonder if she ever finished that ceramic chess set.

I saw on my left the Browning Center for the Performing Arts. I sang in several shows there as part of the Institute choir. In fact, one of those concerts was the last performance before the place was closed down for two years for renovation. It seems the state fire marshal had made a visit and determined that the place was a firetrap. The remodeling left it not only safer, but with a striking, distinctive appearance. It's a classy venue with a modern touch.

I also walked through the visual arts center. I don't know how to describe the architecture of the place; it's a little 'artsy' to be truly modern, if you ask me. I found the place very interesting, especially since the whole area was a parking lot when I was a student there.

As I walked up toward the Alumni Center, I saw the loading dock where I often went after work to see a young lady on whom I'd had a very large crush. We ended up dating for a while, but I failed to strike while the iron was hot. I was still getting over the girl I'd spent most of my mission writing to, and I hesitated. Too much or too little, it always seems.

After the reception, I made my way back to the Union building. I passed an ATM that's still operated by America First Credit Union. I eventually opened a checking account with that institution so that I could get money on campus without having to use the ATM operated by First Security Bank (long since assimilated by Wells Fargo) that charged me $2.50 a pop. I've stuck with credit unions ever since.

As I went inside the Union, I passed the hallway down which I used to walk my letters to the editor of the school newspaper, The Compost...er, Signpost. I wrote a lot of letters in those days, not so much anymore. I wonder why. Maybe I'm not as impressed by my own cleverness as I used to be.

I walked through the recreation area, where I once had a bowling class that fulfilled my last physical education requirement. I skipped the pool tables - never much good at billiards, despite the physics classes - and strolled through the video games. I recognized some of them from when I was there. Scary.

I went upstairs to the food service area. I paused at the door to the little hole-in-the-wall place that used to be (and maybe still is) the Union's equivalent of a convenience store. Bill was also working there when I ran that little shop, and his friendship ultimately led me to Curtis. I also got perhaps my most unusual birthday gift there. I walked in on my 25th birthday to find a large bouquet of black balloons awaiting me. There was also a large mylar balloon decorated with a graveyard scene and dancing skeletons wearing party hats. One of the gravestones read, "We mourn the passing of your youth." Ironic, considering the friend who left them for me was actually older than I was (though she never admitted that fact until later).

From there I went across the skyway to the other side of the building. I went downstairs, past the main lobby where my boss once told Uncle Jim that I looked like I could be his illegitimate son, and down to the bookstore. It was closed, but it looked to be a lot larger and nicer now than I remember it. Bookstores in general fascinate me, and I'd like to go back sometime when it's open. I have to get a Weber State window sticker for the new vehicle, after all. (It'll fit nicely between the ones for BYU and the University of Utah.)

The time was approaching for my return bus, so I left the Union and headed back to the north end of campus. Off to my right, past the clock tower, I saw the new skyboxes at the football stadium. I hope they're helping to generate some revenue for the program, because they're sure not helping the team's performance. The Wildcats were 1-9, last I checked.

I didn't make my way up to the math and science buildings where I passed so many fond hours. They keep those buildings tucked away in the far upper corner of campus, safely away from the normal people.

I sat at the bus stop, looking across the street at the Institute, looking back in time. I thought about these and a hundred other experiences that being back at Weber had brought to my mind. And I realized that it was not the buildings themselves that were important, but the people that they reminded me of. That's what made my time in Ogden so memorable: the people that I knew there. Most of them are gone now, I suspect, and those that remain have certainly changed as much as I have.

I suppose it's something like Corwin of Amber's journey back to Avalon. It's not the same place it was when I left. There's no way that it could be. But it's still a nice place - a place where life was pretty good, and a place I was happy to see again.