The Death of a Memory...

I stopped at the UM campus today, to check on a kosher restaurant that opened in student union. Wifey's orthodox second cousin, Ephraim is coming to visit this Sunday, with his 2 lovely little girls. They're glatt kosher, and I figured we'd get food from the restaurant for them.

They were closing early for shabbos (sabbath) but I learned they'd be open on Monday, so we can get the observant family over there for breakfast.

On the way back to my car, I stopped at Starbucks by the library, and got myself a copy of the student paper, the Hurricane. On page 3, I saw a terribly sad article.

They're closing my old on campus apartment building, number 22! Apparently the new housing on and near campus has made the old apartment buildings, circa WW II vintage, expendable. Today's undergraduates prefer wood floors, and new kitchens to the barrack-like fixtures in the old apartments.

I was saddened. I lived in 22Z for 3 and 1/2 years. I was there from my second freshman semester through graduation. I can honestly say it was my real home in Florida --I never felt at home visiting my parents in Delray Beach, where I'd go for breaks from school.

Dr. Barry and I were roommates the whole time, and grew closer than brothers. Dr. Eric commuted to the U, but spend many a night crashing on our couch, or staying in Barry's bed when he'd go to Broward to work weekends.

The experiences I had in building 22 were those that transformed me from a boy to a man. I contemplated the meaning of a broken heart there. I stared out at the setting sun, dealing with the pain of my father's death. I plotted my adulthood there.

And now they're closing the place down. The article said the university hadn't yet decided whether to demolish the building, or use it for offices. I'm betting the old white brick and concrete structure is coming down --it's not at all an attractive edifice, and space is always at a premium on an urban campus.

I called Dr. Barry as soon as I finished the article. We pledged to meet there, if they DO demolish it, and hoist one final beer.

As soon as I hung up with Barry, as if on cue, Jorge called me as well. He was our roommate for one year --the first Cuban I became close to. Jorge, more of a historian and political scientist, said "Wow --it'll be like when the Berlin Wall was knocked down." I corrected him --it's more akin to the loss of the Orange Bowl.

I'm reading the pop rabbi Kushner's latest book, about bad things/good people/stress, etc... He made the point that change in life is the only constant.

Goodbye, Building 22.