LOST Chapter 18, Verse 2: The Palace

Continuing in my graduation series, here is the second installment of my favorite college Space Traveler memories.

Countdown: 9days, 15hours, 10minutes until graduation.

MEMORY #2: The Palace

I was a resident assistant for a few years while in college. I'm sure many memories to come will perhaps also have to do with that fact. The second memory is the community I lived in my second year.

I was originally supposed to live in a new building on campus, but when China bought up all the steal back in 2004, the construction stopped and the campus had to find an alternative location to place all the displaced students. Some RAs and their communities were put into a hotel for the first semester. I on the other hand was put into a off campus location for the entire year.

It would become "The Palace." Originally abbreviated as "TP" for "Tenth and Pine," the corner it was on.

It was the second floor of a building in downtown that had been renovated to accommodate extended stay visitors to the area. Below it was a salvation army thrift store. For any college student, living above a thrift store meant an endless supply of vintage clothing and an immediate excuse for putting off laundry another day.

$8 to wash my clothes, or $2 to buy a suit that only my grandfather would wear. The choice was often obvious. We proudly would parade around campus as the most fashionably challenged, but were strangely confident in our uniqueness.

I lived there from August 2004-May 2005, so I was there during the election and I got to see the dynamics of young academics trying out their ideas with each other. I saw them come together to form a very tight knit group.

In January, I was stuck in traffic on I-44 on my way to St. Louis when I received a phone call from my supervisor. She informed me that one of my residents had died. he had died on his way home to St. Louis, and it was at that time I realized that the traffic I was in was the result of his accident. With no real way to exit the highway, all I could do was inch forward in the stop and go traffic, and after some 20 minutes, I was able to see the wreckage. As I drove by I cried and was overwhelmed with sorrow. It would be the closest thing I would get to a "goodbye."

I was sad that day not because I lost a good friend, but because I realized that I had become caught up in the excitement of The Palace and had supported those who were really into the community while perhaps not giving more back to those who were more introverted. You see, I didn't know Ryan that well, and I had not really taken advantage of the opportunities I had been given to know him.

I had not even been that great of a RA to him. He would come by and complain about noise, and I would rarely act on it because the noise was being made by my most active residents; the ones who endorsed my idea of community there.

I was troubled with guilt, and when I returned the next day, I gathered all of the community together and told them what had happened. the guilt I experienced for not being better, was shared amongst the group as many felt similar feelings.

After a few solemn days, Ryan's parents came to collect his belongings. they left his couch and TV because they said that the idea of making room in their house for these items would be too painful. The day after that, a letter appeared on the wall. It was written by Andrew, one of Ryan's roommates. It was an honest and forward letter about who Ryan was for those who didn't have the chance.

For me this letter let me forgive myself in many ways because what I was punishing myself for at the time was that I had not taken interest with him like I had the others until it was too late.

The community came together in a new way after that, and to this day have found ways to live together.

In fact, in May, when I move, I will be living with two of them in Northern Virginia.

Our life in that building was full of many unique things, and I know that I can never look at a Salvation Army Store the same again.