Memories of Miller Hall

I walk up the sidewalk towards the building that houses Cornerstone’s Learning Center, and a familiar feeling of nostalgia starts to bubble up into my throat. It’s an administrative building now, but back when I was a freshman, this was the dorm I called home. I can even see the original window that looked into the room I shared with the ‘mates.

15 years slip away and I imagine myself walking into the lobby graced by the portrait of Verna Miller. I see a group of 40 girls hovered around the television ready to watch George Clooney on ER. The ping pong table is in full swing, along with a fiesty game of euchre in the corner. A couple snuggles on a couch, oblivious to the shouts and giggles around them.

In my mind, I walk to the hallway, past Michelle’s apartment. She was our RD, our fearless leader, our confidante. I pass the shared bathrooms, where we would line up and wait to take a shower in the one stall that had strong water pressure. On occasion, the shower handle would disappear, held hostage for a trip to the front of the line.

I turn and look into our dorm room. Our mini-fridge sits underneath the window, next to our awful green futon chair. A stack of pizza slice shaped plates sit on top of the fridge, ready for the next impromptu party. The walls are covered with painted DC Talk lyrics, quotes, and our names. At the end of the year, we would have to cover it all with badly matched paint, but I see it in all its glory.

I can also feel the emotion of that first year swirling out of our room and into the hallway…trepidation about classes…anxiety about new relationships…yearning to stand out in the crowd…stressed about being accepted…

It was a year of defining moments for me, etched in my memory in sharp relief. Being away from home, figuring out who I wanted to become, making decisions about my time and my circle of friends. It was empowering and frightening at the same time.

The door at the end of the hallway stands propped open, and I see a group of my friends out on the lawn, tossing a frisbee around and laughing about our latest escapade. Maybe a trip to the dollar movie theatre to watch First Knight or a bouncy ride in Lisa’s blue Lumina down to Three Rivers, or just a walk over to the cafeteria for Moose Tracks ice cream. I see a younger version of myself, braids in my hair and ridiculous wooden clogs. She glances over, and seeing her future, gives a thoughtful smile. Amos’ infectious giggle makes her turn away, and suddenly, all is gone.

The hallway is now examination rooms, the lounge is the learning center, and my memories fade away. But as I walk away from the building, student tests in hand, one more peal of laughter drifts back to me…and I can’t help but smile as I head over to teach my next class…the same person, but oh, so different…

— Rachel