Tell your UI story by emailing Jeff D'Alessio at firstname.lastname@example.org
One-hundred-and-fifty years ago next month, in the soggy fields between the train station in Champaign and the courthouse in Urbana, a Big Ten university was born — Illinois Industrial U, which opened with an all-male enrollment of 50 and operated out of a single structure.
One name change, 646 new buildings and countless controversies later, the campus is gearing up for a sesquicentennial birthday bash for the ages.
To set the mood, we reached out to a couple hundred of the UI's 450,000-plus living alumni — including those who've won Nobels, Oscars, Pulitzers and Super Bowls — in search of the spot on campus that left the most indelible impression on them.
Today begins our unofficial, unauthorized tour of campus and vicinity, with much more to come throughout 2017.
John Milton Gregory's gravestone
It doesn't draw the crowds that Alma and Abe Lincoln's bust do but the modest bronze tablet tucked between Altgeld Hall and the Henry Administration Building ought to be a must-stop on any campus tour, says one influential alum. BOB JOHNSON (Class of '68), who'd go on to become the country's first African-American billionaire, happened upon the grave of the UI's first president on his way to class one day in the fall of 1964.
"The inscription engraved on a plaque on his headstone reads 'If you seek his monument, look about you,'" says Johnson, the founder of Black Entertainment Television. "As an African-American freshman from Freeport, Illinois, who was the ninth of 10 children and the first among them to go to college, I found this commemorative statement to be both inspiring and motivating."
— The road to the red carpet outside the Dolby Theatre began at 500 South Goodwin for ANG LEE ('80), who says he might not have two best director Oscar statues if it weren't for Krannert. "That's where I started devouring western drama, which laid the foundation of what I do today. It changed my life," says the Taiwan-born movie maker, who gave us "Brokeback Mountain" and "Life of Pi."
— Long before she played Marie the kleptomaniac on all five seasons of the highest-rated show in TV history, "Breaking Bad" alum BETSY BRANDT practically lived at Krannert. "Thank God there are two restaurants on the premises," says the Class of '96 grad, who found it inspiring that the same architect who designed Manhattan's famed Avery Fisher Hall also sketched out Krannert (Max Abramovitz, UI '29). "My experience there is part of the reason that I am the actor, and the human, that I am today."
— Future Shell Oil Executive VP ROXANNE DECYK earned dual degrees in English lit and advertising from the UI in 1973. But nothing the Bronze Tablet honoree experienced in the classroom matched what she heard here: "I still get goosebumps thinking about just strolling into Krannert Center as an undergraduate and listening to Alfred Brendel. He was at the U of I to record the Beethoven Piano Sonatas, as I recall. Though I wasn't studying music, the idea that this great artist was there, and that I could just go listen to him play sublime music, was like dying and going to heaven."
— Remember that scene in Groundhog Day when Bill Murray's character steps off the curb and smack into the puddle while fleeing long-lost high school classmate Ned "the Head" Ryerson? Well, the actor who played Ned is STEPHEN TOBOLOWSKY, who earned his master's from the UI and has his own misstep memory from his campus days: "I broke my toe in dance class the last day of school. I was saved by my teacher, Blake Atherton, who lifted me up, carried me to her VW bug — keep in mind: I am 6-3, Blake was about 5-5 — drove me to the hospital and brought me chicken soup that night. When I was on Broadway in 2002, Blake drove down from upstate New York to see the show. I got to thank her again."
They wouldn't be where they are today without ...
— Smith Memorial Hall, where on March 9, 1951, Pulitzer Prize-winning composer MICHAEL COLGRASS ('54) watched the premiere of the first piece of music he ever wrote — a percussion ensemble called Three Brothers. Walking out the front door afterward, "I kept saying, 'I'm a composer, I'm a composer.' I smelled the lilac bushes just left of the stairs, which blossom every spring for a few weeks, which added to my dream-like state."
— St. John's Chapel, where Urbana-born DR. SUSAN NAGELE was so moved by the Rev. P.J. McGuire's homily on Lazarus and the rich man, she asked him for a copy of his notes. "It certainly had something to do with how I became a Maryknoll Lay Missioner and have worked in East Africa since 1985," says Nagele, who in 2012 was awarded the American Medical Association's Medal of Valor for "courage under extraordinary circumstances."
— The engineering campus, though it bears little resemblance to what MARY McDOWELL trudged through in the '80s. "Looking at the gleaming buildings north of Green now, it is hard to remember that in the not-too-distant past, the engineering campus was pretty much a dump," says the former Nokia executive, recently named CEO of Silicon Valley tech company Polycom. "I'm pretty sure at least one building in which I took classes was built in the 19th century — and had not aged well. Boneyard Creek was two steps shy of being a Superfund site. And to be there by yourself late at night? Well, that's a story for a very different type of article."
— Weston Hall, former headquarters of WPGU-FM. BOB EPSTEIN remembers entering the building as a freshman in 1970 — "and I barely left after that," says the man who went on to serve as executive producer of NBC's nightly news. Well, there was that one time, when the campus radio station did an advertising deal that involved Epstein dressing up as "a very motley Santa Claus lamely trying to drum up business" on Green Street.
— The courtroom at the College of Law, where on one fall day in 1968, first-year student JAMES HOLDERMAN was picked to be a mock trial juror. A few hours later, his dream of being an estate planning lawyer was over. "From that Saturday forward, I wanted to be a trial lawyer and eventually a trial judge. I was able to achieve both of those goals because of that one day in that courtroom," says his honor, who spent 30 years on the federal bench, seven of them as chief justice for the Northern District of Illinois.
— The Labor School lounge on Armory Avenue, where at any given time in the early '70s, one could find a mix of faculty and students talking politics, sports, the news of the day or the curriculum. It's where GEORGE PAULIN went from "intimidated-quiet in my first semester, to cautious participation, to coming prepared to defend my opinions" and, ultimately, to future CEO of a Los Angeles-based consulting firm and distinguished alumni award winner. "I hope there are still places like it around the campus. What I learned there has served me as well as what I learned in my classes."
— The Electrical Engineering Research Lab, where DON SCIFRES spent what seemed like the better part of the early '70s. "Professor Nick Holonyak insisted that his graduate students be in the lab day and night, so it is almost the only place I saw on campus," says the UI Engineering Hall of Famer, a visionary in the field of laser physics and technology. "It was a great education and introduction to how to get ahead in the world."
— Gregory Hall, where the late, great Richard Hildwein taught his wildly popular photojournalism class. Oh yes, Pro Football Writers Association of America President JEFF LEGWOLD remembers it well. "Professor Hildwein made my parents' life when he told a joke about my travails as a photographer at the communications graduation ceremony in 1985. And there was no question: I was the all-time worst photographer to walk the halls — 'never focused, never framed' was my motto. I once took a photo so out of whack, he asked me what was wrong and I told him, with a straight face, I had glaucoma. I loved his class, I was simply terrible at it."
In 1954, a 19-year-old kid who'd go on officiate six Ohio State-Michigan games and four Super Bowls found his career calling here. It was the fall of JERRY MARKBREIT's junior year, and he was running low on dough.
"I wasn't really interested in officiating as much as I was in making money — back then, tuition cost 60 bucks a semester — and my friend told me it'd be easy money. So I went to Huff and told the gentleman at the desk I'd like to try my hand at intramural officiating. He asked: 'Have you ever officiated?' I said no but I'd played a lot of football.
"He wrote a few things down, threw me a rule book, a whistle and a flag and said: 'You have a game at 3 o'clock.' I ended up doing three games a day three times a week for three bucks a game. I was in clover."
That led to doing grade school games, which led to high school games, which led to college football's Game of the Century (No. 1 Notre Dame vs. No. 2 Michigan State in 1966), and beyond. "I'm going to be 82 and I've never gotten to tell this story," Markbreit says. "I've worked in the NFL now for 41 years after 11 in the Big Ten, and I owe it all to the intramural officiating program at the U of I."
— Or, as it will forever be known to legendary Sports Illustrated scribe BILL NACK, the Quadrangle. His first of many memories dates back to the fall of 1959, his freshman year. "Robert Frost came to campus to read his poetry in the Auditorium on the Quad. The place was packed. Frost stood at the podium after his introduction and the whole audience rose and gave him a standing O. They refused to stop, refused to sit. He raised his arms and lowered them. No sooner had they quieted down than they rose again as he began to speak and gave him yet another standing ovation. Finally, as the crowd grew hushed, this little man with the white hair looked out over all of us and said, 'If you do that again, I'll tell Carl Sandburg on you.'"
— On days when the weather was nice, the Quad was basketball assistant JERRANCE HOWARD's deal-sealing pit stop anytime a blue-chip high school star was in town for a look around. "After the visit was about to be over, I would grab the recruit away from their parents and take them on the golf cart to the Quad for a heart-to-heart. I'd time it up right when classes were letting out so the recruit can see all the students and feel the energy. Nothing but good vibes."
— But it wasn't always so cheery. Future Tesla co-founder MARTIN EBERHARD remembers the "eerie quiet" over the packed Quad the morning of Dec. 9, 1980, as word spread that John Lennon had been shot the night before.
— For STAN IKENBERRY, it remains the "sacred" spot on campus, "the Illini equivalent of Times Square." Rarely did a day pass during his 16 years as president that he didn't visit at least once. "I deliberately walked to most meetings just so I could cross the Quad. On Saturday mornings, I made it a point to bike to the Quad. When I felt under pressure, faced a big issue, had a crisis, maybe just needed a break and wanted to clear my head, I sought out the Quad. When students were unhappy, I could see it on the Quad. When times were tense, I could sense it on the Quad. When something really big happened, most often it happened on the Quad. A single picture can never capture the spirit and essence of an entire campus but the Quad comes very close."
It's where the future co-executive producer of The Oprah Winfrey Network discovered that biology/pre-med was not for him. "When I couldn't pass calculus to save my life, I punted and randomly, yet fatefully, chose broadcast journalism," says BRAD PAVONE ('01). "The moment I walked into Mitch Kazel's class in the Richmond TV studio with the cameras, the lights and the control room, I was completely hooked with the idea of putting a TV show together. I still am today."
— Alpha Tau Omega is where '60s football great BO BATCHELDER was when the worst possible news came in from overseas: "Bruce Capel — friend, fraternity brother, Fighting Illini teammate — died in Vietnam and we learned the realities and horror of war."
— Phi Sigma Sigma is where TATYANA McFADDEN — not yet the world-renowned wheelchair racer — recalls "I was easily able to fit in and was never judged. I could call those girls today and they would do anything."
— Sigma Delta Tau is where LYNN PRICE — 2014 Alumni Humanitarian Award winner — stood in cap and gown, surrounded by sorority sisters, on a May 1977 day, overwhelmed with emotions over what she'd just accomplished: "I spent most of my childhood in foster care. Stats (say) that most former youth in foster care do not attend college, let alone graduate, and from a top-10 school."
— Phi Kappa Tau is where JIM OBERWEIS started a rock band — none-hit wonder Mankind — with a frat brother. In the mid-'60s, that was about as risque as the house got, says the now state senator: "No drinking or girls allowed except for special events when there was a chaperone. My, how those days changed."
The Daily Illini
— Nothing prepared PAUL INGRASSIA ('72) better for what would come later in life — a Pulitzer Prize, an interview with Vladimir Putin (right), a stretch covering the Arab spring in Cairo — than his one year as Daily Illini editor-in-chief. This was the Vietnam era, when campus protests were as prevalent as Illini football losses. "After one riot, the Champaign police raided the DI office to confiscate the film of our photographers. But the negatives had been spirited away to the office of our attorney, who went to court and overturned the search warrant. The experience bolstered me for tough stories decades later," says the retired Ingrassia, the former managing editor for Reuters.
— KEN PAULSON came to campus in 1975 intent on getting a law degree. But it wasn't long before he stumbled into the DI newsroom — "a ramshackle, overcrowded and disorderly place full of free spirits and talented young journalists," as he remembers it. In 2004, he was named editor-in-chief of USA Today.
— Of all the odd jobs SIMA DAHL ('90) held to put herself through college — "spraying disinfectant into sweaty skates at the Ice Arena, cleaning puddles of syrup from drunk coeds when I worked overnights at IHOP" — none could match the memories of her time reviewing soap operas for the DI. She was given the One Life to Live beat; a friend had General Hospital. "We didn't take the soap opera sagas seriously enough for some readers," who let them hear about it in letters to the editor. "Apparently, describing a scene in which a woman drops her infant child as a 'baby doing a back flip off the couch' was a bit over the top," says Dahl, who went on to become an in-demand international speaker.
— The DI is where JOHN KIM (left), a Pulitzer-winning photographer for the Chicago Tribune, learned virtually everything he knows about journalism ("and how to break into an office building using a pica pole"), and where LARRY DOYLE (right), winner of the 2008 Thurber Prize for American humor, not only learned how to write but "how doing that could get you into a lot of trouble."
The Illini Union
— Not everyone got to experience the Union like SYLVIA PUENTE ('80) did. Working on the building's board of directors for two years entitled the 2015 alumni achievement award winner to special privileges — including a solo visit to the Union tower that overlooks the Quad right after she took her last final 37 years ago. "I remember the steep climb up the stairs and opening up a special bottle of spirits that I had been carrying around all day. As I looked out from this special view, I sipped on my bottle of tequila, reminiscing about my years of challenging moments and incredible opportunities as a student," says Puente, now the executive director of the Chicago-based Latino Policy Forum. "Words cannot express the emotions of this achievement, being the first in four generations to complete college."
— In the late 1950s, the Union provided MANNIE JACKSON's best chance of seeing another person of color. "Even today, I marvel at how unique the student union is," says the Harry Combes shooting guard turned Harlem Globetrotters owner. "The diversity of students, all of the activity ... it was like going to Disney World."
— Take it from former U.S. Comptroller General CHUCK BOWSHER ('53): Hookups were harder to come by in his day than they are now: "We used to go to beer places like Kam's when we had dates. Of course, the (male-to-female) ratio was 3 to 1 back then. You really had to work to get a date."
— One winter night in 1985, the so-called home of the drinking Illini was the battleground of the snowball fighting Illini. It started outside Kam's, maybe 15 minutes before closing time, with a perfectly thrown strike from future 14-year major league catcher DARRIN FLETCHER to the shoulder/neck area of future 10-year NFL quarterback Jack Trudeau. "Needless to say, he wasn't too happy and ran in and got some of his buddies to come out for backup," Fletcher says. "And thus began the epic snowball fight between the baseball players and football players."
— It wasn't just the big-ticket teams that had rosters full of Kam's regulars. Former NCAA wrestling champ ADAM TIRAPELLE describes his affinity for the place as an "incomparable and indescribable attraction," and it's one shared by PGA star STEVE STRICKER, who admits to still popping in on the occasional trip back. Two of UI golf's other all-time greats are partial to Joe's Brewery (THOMAS PIETERS) and C.O. Daniels (where D.A. POINTS and friends spent many a Thursday night — "after our homework was done, of course.")
— Future Lieutenant Governor CORINNE WOOD ('76) can still feel the "beer-soaked, sticky floors" of Dooley's and Kam's, conveniently located exactly 52 steps from the back door of her sorority house and where she spent "too many fun-filled nights." BETH CLUTTERBUCK ('96) can relate, recalling from London, where she's NBC International's VP for talent, a favorite former line: "I will always remember taking a lap at Kam's and Tumble Inn. 'Stumble out' at the Tumble Inn ..."
— This all made JENNY WESTERKAMP's job a whole lot easier when the future nutrition consultant for the Chicago Cubs started a new club on campus, Students Team Up to Fight Hunger. There was no better time or place to hold fundraising drives than the corner of Fifth and Green in the wee hours of the weekend. "We'd be stationed at all four corners, collecting hundreds of dollars for the Eastern Illinois Foodbank — thanks to generous and possibly intoxicated donors," she says.
Not on the official tour but should be ...
— The bridge over the Boneyard, east of Loomis Lab, where SIR ANTHONY LEGGETT — Nobel-winning physicist and UI faculty member since 1983 — had a breakthrough: "This is where the idea came to me for the experiment which my colleague Dale van Harlingen was eventually able to do to resolve a crucially important question concerning the high-temperature superconductors."
Gone but not forgotten
— The Farwell, a coffee shop across from Noyes Laboratory that became a favorite hangout for "the best chemistry faculty in the world," says one of them, Nobel Prize winner E.J. COREY (on the left). Now 88 and a professor emeritus at Harvard, the chemist credited with advancing the science of organic synthesis can still remember his old haunts six decades later — Wheat's Steak House in Urbana ("where one could get a great filet mignon, shrimp cocktail and a good drink for less than $10") and Lombardi's Spaghetti House in Champaign ("imagine a large pizza for $1.50.").
— Concert choir under the direction of MARY ELIZABETH MASTRANTONIO's favorite faculty member — the late Harold Decker. The Oscar-nominated actress who'd go on to play Al Pacino's sister in Scarface and Tom Cruise's girlfriend in The Color of Money only spent two years in the late '70s here but she has many fond music memories. "The year of the Vocal Valentines was particularly hilarious. Patrons chose a truncated version of some valentine-worthy old tune, condensed and arranged for a quartet. Time and addresses were taken down and for a small fee a group of singers would be dispatched to deliver the tune and maybe a rose or something. So silly, so many embarrassed boyfriends and so much fun."
— Bar hoppers in the buff at Boni's. Recalls OTHO TUCKER, a former Illini basketball forward who's now CEO of a Blue Ribbon charter school in Georgia: "I remember one night standing at the bar. There was a tree in the middle. A ladder dropped down and a naked guy and gal climbed down the ladder with a beer each, sat and drank the beer, climbed back up the ladder, pulled the ladder up and left. Everybody in the bar waved and kept drinking. It was classic for those times."
— Nature's Table, the "groovy food spot/hippy jazz joint" across from Krannert where comedian NICK OFFERMAN ('93) was a regular. "For a bunch of broke theatre students, it was heaven, especially because every morning they baked fresh baguettes — a half cost a quarter, or 50 cents for a whole, warm with butter. Added to which they housed the most kick-(butt) scene of tea-heads old and young, plucking out Thelonious Monk tunes at any given moment. When they closed up shop in 1991, we all stood across the street staring, adrift and skinny, our forlorn pockets full of quarters."
— Abe's Red Hots, home to the $1 garbage truck — "the hot dog with everything," says former Cook County Circuit Court Judge TOM CHIOLA ('77). "First year of law school, classes ended at 4. One-dollar pitchers of beer awaited, then those glorious garbage trucks fed us before we slept off our overimbibing and went to the library on Saturday morning. True life savers."
— Dean Emerson Cammack's office in the College of Commerce, as it went by in MIKE SMALL's undergrad days. "Never had I seen such a uniquely unkept office," says the UI golf coach. "You couldn't see around the hundreds of stacked papers. A total mess. Yet he was one of the kindest and most considerate mentors that I had while at the U of I."
— Bonnie Jean's, the pizza joint on top of the Illini Inn. For Google senior software engineer JOEL POLONEY ('08), "no night was complete without a stop there on the way home, writing graffiti on the walls while waiting an hour to get up there, and inhaling the slice before you made it back downstairs again."
State Farm Center
You know it as the place where Elvis rocked and the Flyin' Illini rolled. What BILL GEIST remembers it for is Valentine's Day 1968, when the future CBS funnyman and his bride-to-be went on their first date. "I took her to see Dr. Timothy Leary, the LSD guru, at the Assembly Hall. If it was already State Farm Center, I doubt the insurance giant would have let him anywhere near the place. After seeing the good doctor, we went to the Red Lion, danced the gator to the Finchley Boys and were thrown out. Great date."
The residence halls
— Sherman, where an international student who'd go on to become one of Japan's top patent lawyers got this welcome-to-campus pop quiz from his new Bloomington-born suite mate: "Do you drive? Can you eat cereal every morning? Are you fine in cold weather?" KOZO YABE recalls. "I said 'no.' He laughed and advised me: 'Be careful, you may die here in Illinois.'"
— The Illinois Street residence halls, site of BRAND FORTNER's first encounter with the only two-time winner of the Nobel Prize for Physics. It was the early '80s, long before Fortner would earn fame himself as an astrophysicist and College of Engineering distinguished alumni award winner. "I was a graduate student in physics, and we often ate lunch across the street at the Illinois Street residence halls. At the table next to us one day was John Bardeen, the double Nobel winner. As we turned to gawk, I spilled my Coke all over him. He was gracious about it, but every time I visit campus, I look at the residence hall and think: There is where I touched greatness — or at least spilled my drink on it."
— The seventh floor of Bromley, where the greatest Illini volleyball player of them all — MARY (EGGERS) TENDLER — learned a few new tricks as a lowly freshman living in a dorm: "A student from the southern part of Illinois taught me how to rope a cow in the hallway, which was a lot more difficult than hitting a volleyball. It took forever to catch the elevator and it was awful trying to parallel park in the snow outside, but I loved Bromley Hall."
— The second floor of Townsend, which in 1966-67 was home to three of the five founding members of REO Speedwagon (est. 1967). But that wasn't where the magic happened, says keyboardist NEAL DOUGHTY. "The bars come to mind," he says. "The first REO album was practically written at the Red Lion Inn."
— Scott, where DEE BROWN and Deron Williams were first-floor freshman roommates ("the start of the best four years of my life," says Dee) and where all-Big Ten power forward turned Hollywood actress CINDY DALLAS made the most of teammate Holly Wilson's karaoke machine from her courtyard-facing room in 2003 ("The best was when Allison Curtin and I sang 'Sexual Healing' to Sean Harrington across the way," says Dallas).
— A decade before he was VP of the Hollywood movie studio that gave us The Hangover and Jurassic World, ALEX HEDLUND got some local air time of his own for scaling Foellinger — "like Spider-Man," he says — and leading an I-L-L chant the night Bruce Weber's 2005 Illini won a spot in the NCAA basketball finals. "Seeing the Quad covered in a sea of orange was an incredible sight from that vantage point, and a memorable way to sunset my senior year," says the Legendary Entertainment big-shot.
— Back in the 1970s, when it was just the Auditorium, you were likely to find almost as many students stuffed inside a lecture hall listening to Professor Richard Scanlan tell stories of ancient Greece and Rome, occasionally while dressed as a toga-clad priest of Apollo. "It was the most interesting and entertaining class on campus," says SHELDON SIEGEL ('80), who went on to become a New York Times best-selling novelist and a 2012 recipient of the Illini Comeback Award. "It was also hard to get into — they had to cut off enrollment at 1,000." It became an even greater challenge after People magazine popped in for a 1978 profile with the headline: "A Professor with a Funny Bone Has to Turn Students Away from His Classics Courses at Illinois."
Chemistry 101, Foellinger Auditorium
This, from network news icon RICK KAPLAN, former president of CNN and MSNBC and executive producer of the "CBS Evening News with Katie Couric" and ABC's "World News Tonight with Peter Jennings":
"I'm a freshman and I have my Chemistry 101 lecture in Foellinger. There are 400 students in this lecture because we have a renowned professor; I think his name was Galen Stuckey. This beautiful, immense hall swallows all 400 of us so no one really needs to sit next to anyone else. Anonymity is good when you're a freshman.
"Well just before the lecture starts, in walks the most beautiful girl I have ever seen. Blond hair, blue eyes, amazing figure — she owned the Hall and she came over and sat down next to me!
"Needless to say, I never missed this class and after a few weeks I actually could say a few words to her. Her name was Joanie; that's all you get. Well, we became great friends and study partners but I just couldn't believe she was so outgoing and friendly to me. I was not in her class.
"I treasured every moment with Joanie — never got too personal, figured she was busy with the captain of the football team or something. She was my dream girl and asking her out — and no doubt getting shot down — would ruin everything. So the semester continued.
"Then came the final lecture. I walked Joanie to her sorority house, as was my habit; she was a PiPhi and the walk was short but my happiest time of the week.
"At the end of the last walk, Joanie turned to me and said, 'Wouldn't it be great to go to T-Ging tonight?' I had no idea what she was talking about so I simply said 'Sure' and continued on my way.
"I got to my frat house and asked a senior, who said 'Who asked you this?'
"I said 'Joanie.'
"He said 'What did you say?'
"I told him and he said 'You idiot! T-Ging is an invitation to go drinking together and she is the most beautiful coed on campus!'
"I explained I had no idea what she was asking and was really embarrassed.
"I never saw Joanie again — at least not for 40 years, when a friend and I were talking about Illinois and unrequited love.
"Well, to make this long story just a little shorter, my friend found her — I won't tell you how — and she was excited to hear from me. She was happily married with at least three children but we had a need for closure.
"When I came to teach one semester — Joan was living nearby and had a very high-profile job — we arranged a dinner.
"Allow me to cut to the chase. After pleasantries, she asked 'Why didn't you ever ask me out?' I explained that she was beyond any woman I could ever deserve and I assumed she had a million boyfriends. She said 'but I wanted to go out with you! And as for a million boyfriends, everyone thought that so in four years I have no dates!' I think she lied about that but it only made my memories of Foellinger more meaningful.
"I have thought about those days my whole life — and it taught me to always shoot for your goals and dreams, no matter how out-of-reach they seem to be. You never know when the pretty blue-eyed blond really likes you."
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