I have only one favorite campus memory: meeting my husband-to-be, Warren ("Skip") at college. My first semester, January 1950, was his final semester. We always credited Mission House, and the grace of God, with our paths crossing.

Most of my inspiration as a student came from the wonderfully caring professors who showed me the joy of learning and set me on a lifelong path of discovery. They taught me so much more than the textbooks contained. They informed, inspired and shared themselves in a generous way that showed me what a difference one person can make in the lives he/she touches. My personal favorites include: Dr. Allen, English; Professor Voight, History; Professor Bauer, Philosophy and the beloved Professor of Music, Dr. Ellerbusch. Of course there were more, but these represent the soul of Mission House to me. I remember them not only as professors, but as people. I remember them with affection and respect.

I graduated with a degree in English and taught for two years. However, I quit teaching to raise my family. When I was asked to work two evenings a week at the public library, it was another case of love at first sight. I did not return to teaching. Instead I turned to a library career that allowed me to share my pleasure in connecting people and learning in a way that was uniquely suited to me.

In those early 50's college years, Mission House stressed being a family. Of course we students scoffed at the idea. But we did form a strong bond and most of us felt pride in our small college. No matter how different we were in our interests, our lifestyles and our aspirations, Mission House often felt like home.

No, it wasn't always carefree--I surely resented it when people implied that college life was all fun and games--but we suffered and celebrated and studied and strayed in a lovely atmosphere of security and safety. After four years of undergraduate work, young men and women were prepared to leave this nurturing community and live a good life well.