He will be assisted by my pink boots, and my trusty D40.
Every time I walk by the Dead Hedge, one of two things will happen to me: 1)A stick falls on my head or 2)I snag some part of my person on the Dead Hedge. Clearly, the Dead Hedge is not friendly to passers-by.
To our left is the apartment building Jeff lived in before we were together. The building has since been condemned and the land purchased by the university. It shall be a parking lot in due time.
And here is the curb which never fails to trip me. Never. Four times a day for five semesters, it tripped me. Blame me? Or balme the curb?
Right by the entrance is Baldwin Hall, site of most of the language and literature classes, and a few other random ones, too. I had at least one class (usually more) in Baldwin, each of my seven semesters at the University:
The odd lines of trees:
I like to pretend that it’s a relic from when this land was a graceful country estate, and these trees are the remnants of those lining the extensive driveway. But I bet what really happened, is that a landscaper was told “go plant eight trees” and he was too lazy to scatter them about properly. That, and the trees look like they’re about 30 years old. And this has been the university’s land since about 1860.
Back on the quad, here’s our famous gum tree:
Stick your gum on this tree on a test day and you’ll ace the test. Or something like that. I never did it. Superstitions are silly (after all the times a black cat has crossed my path, I think I’m in for eternal bad luck! Though that would explain so much…).
Good old Missouri Hall, where Jeff and I both lived–and, logically enough, where we met. It has been renovated since we lived there–the front used to have a bunch of wide columns, none of this plate-glass-and-steel bullshit:
The crooked, broken sidewalk on the east end of campus. This sidewalk is a large part of the reason that I favor thick-heeled cowboy boots rather than those skinny little fashionable stiletto ones.
I’m surprised I never sprained an ankle on that sidewalk.
And yes, that was an obscene gesture in the first photo. He’s a charmer!
The building pictured above is Blanton-Nason-Brewer Hall (motto: when naming it after one dead university president just isn’t enough!)
I lived there my freshman year. You didn’t know me then. (and really, I didn’t know myself).
I didn’t even know I needed it until I saw it. Funny how that works. And before you ask, yes it had a lock on it. No, I didn’t seriously consider breaking the lock. But now I am going to pursue the purchase of my own! (maybe)
At the southwest end of campus is the logically-named Red Barn park, which features (oddly enough), a red barn:
To my knowlege, it’s mainly used by the university for picnics and such on high school visit days. I rarely see students just lounging or hanging out here–they use the quad for that (it’s much more conveniently located).
The sports building is on the west side of campus, and on its sidewalk is this mural:
Clearly it’s quite poorly maintained, and Jeff and I don’t know exactly why it’s there. We think it might have had something to do with Homecoming a few years ago? Tour guides we are not.
Just north of the athletics building is one of the science buildings, Magruder Hall. It, too, was recently renovated. Now it sports an empty astronomy theater (they ran out of money) and a wholly useless terraced installation. Which is useful only in the capacity that it offers a solid 15 minutes of amusement to whatever small children happen to be visiting the campus at any given time.
Proof that I really was along for this ride, too. Windswept hair and everything:
Why does windswept hair look sexy on the models in glossy magazines, and dorky on me? It couldn’t have anything to do with the ponytail, dorky smile and runny nose (it was really freaking cold out!), could it?
Outside the entrance to our library is the sunken garden:
No, behind the bicycle racks. With the two arbor-y things–one at either end. That. It was once the foundation of the university’s oldest building. In 1930-something the building caught on fire and they drained the nearby lake to put the fire out. The sunken garden is the remnant of that building’s foundation, and the site of the lake is now our quad.
Can I have my tour guide badge back now?
They say that if you have your first kiss with someone in the sunken garden, you’ll end up marrying him/her. Jeff and I put a twist on this tradition, and instead held a series of late-night footraces there (he won most of them). We still got married.
The aforementioned library:
In a shocking turn of events, it has also undergone renovation recently (before my time, though). They built a new library around the old one. So when it’s nighttime and the library is all lit up, you can look inside and see the old brick building within the new, larger one. It’s a pretty cool effect. I’ll try to capture it sometime.
I hope you enjoyed your visit to Truman! Maybe next time we’ll go inside some of the buildings (I couldn’t get in any of them on this last stroll, as they were all locked up for spring break).