September 17, 1956

   Ah, those old memories, that all the world is waiting to hear.
      September 17 was the date of the first day of college, for Dorothy and me, and also Ruthie. Few, if any, are around and able to confirm or deny the details of our beginning college days; I'll relate what I believe to be a pretty accurate representation of the beginning of our college experience.
      That was the year Ruth's brother, henceforth  to be known as ELO, was discharged from the U.S.Navy, and was returning to his alma mater for his master's degree. He had gotten himself a car, a big old blue Buick, but did not yet have his driver's license. Until that happened, Jackie Brackley, out of the kindness of his heart, drove us all to Albany. I think he was attending Albany Business College. So for that period of time, there were six of us packed into the Buick:  Ruthie, Dorothy and me in the back seat, and in the front seat, Jack, ELO, and Joe M., who was beginning his sophomore year at Albany State Teachers College, probably glad to have a ride after hitching a ride for most of his first year.
   Commuting enmasse meant everyone's schedules had to be taken into consideration, so we left Valley Falls early in the morning and returned at the end of the class day. When ELO obtained his license, and Jack no longer drove us, ELO began to drive his sister Ethel to her job at the State Office Building, which extended our day even earlier and later, to accommodate her work schedule, and for the trip downtown to her work place. The drive was already monumental, as the time was before the Northway was built, and our travels took us through the entire city of Troy, and Menands, where we spent endless hours in bumper to bumper traffic over the Menands Bridge, added to the eons of time driving to the State Office Building and then back up to the college.
     We three girls  in the back seat were crowded, often cold due to non-working heater, and subject to cigarette smoke  in the car. Rather inconvenient and uncomfortable travel arrangements, one might say, but idyllic compared to our commutes in the following three years.  O, the Horror!