While attending York College of Pennsylvania, I wrote a weekly column for the school newspaper, The Spartan. I would write about a vast variety of topics. Sometimes it was creative writing. Sometimes it was deep thoughts. Sometimes it was just random ramblings. It was something that was very important to me and, in a lot of ways, got me through some difficult times. However, now, when I look back at the things I wrote, and can barely read even a few paragraphs before I am filled with cringe.

Despite that, I am going to bring a couple of those 30+-year-old columns back to life here, starting with this.

In October of 1992, a college friend of mine and I went on a road trip during fall break to Notre Dame with stops in Pittsburgh, Purdue University, and, of course, York, Indiana. At the time, it was one of the most memorable weekends of my life, a near-religious experience. So, of course, I wrote about it.

It was interesting re-reading it because 30+ years had mangled the timeline a bit in my brain. While the main points are as I remembered them, there are other details I had long forgotten or misremembered. For example, I knew we had taken a detour into Michigan at one point just to say we had gone to Michigan, and I knew we made a detour to check out York, Indiana, because…well, it was York. However, over the years, my mind squished them together into one detour to York, Michigan, which, as far as I know, does not exist. So, it is interesting to have my memory refreshed like this.

Now that Matthew attends Notre Dame, I thought it would be interesting to “re-print” it here, in all its cringeworthy glory. I decided not to change a word and post it here exactly as it was posted in the school newspaper in 1992. Now, Grammarly is going absolutely crazy, judging 19-year-old Tom Keenan and begging me to make changes, but I am ignoring it to preserve my humiliation for your enjoyment.

I also regret a couple of the digs I made at York College here. I think at the time, I thought maybe I was being a bit edgy or cool, but, reading it back now, it just seems immature. I’ve written about York College in another post, so I don’t think I need to dive into my thoughts on it now, except to say I would not change a thing. If I had the opportunity to go back in time and choose between York, Notre Dame, or Purdue, I would still choose York.

There is a part two I wrote a year after this one that, if you like this, I will post next week.

So, here you go…Welcome back to the Fall of 1992 (note that pictures are from recent trips, since I cannot find the photos from 30 years ago):

A bolt of lightning on the horizon could be seen.  It was like I was headed into a movie as I looked straight ahead along the road for what seemed a hundred miles.  There was nothing out there but road, corn, an occasional farmhouse, and a lightning strike every few minutes, way off on the horizon.

But beyond the vast emptiness of this state called Ohio, I knew the time of my life was waiting patiently.  And I waited in the back seat of the car, patiently waiting for the next rest stop, for my bladder was quite full with the Mello Yello that I had drunk a few hours before.

My friend Chuck and I were following the footsteps of so many Irish-Catholic, pigskin-loving pilgrims of all ages who had gone before us. We were headed out to the land of the Golden Dome.  The land that lay within the South Bend of the St. Joseph River.  We were headed to the land of such greats as Montana and Donahue.  To the land that the Rocket first took off and to the Land of Lou.  Yes, we went out to Notre Dame University in Indiana to watch the legendary Fighting Irish play football.

The pilgrimage began many hours before when Chuck and I grabbed a ride to Pittsburgh with a girl named Sue.  For most of the first leg of the trip, I sat in the back of the car with my arm resting on an aquarium that contained two lizards.  It was then that I knew it was going to be a great time.

A trip of this caliber is hard to put into words.  It just seemed to be an endless flow of great times with very few boring times.  I got so many different impressions about different things.  The best way to decribe it would be “unbelievable,” and even that is an understatement.

We arrived in Notre Dame about 3:00 Saturday morning, which translates to 2:00 their time, (Central time) after a short layover in Pittsburgh.  After a few hours of sleep on the floor of Chuck’s brother’s room, we awoke to go meet my brother who was coming up from Purdue University.  Chuck and I just walked around ND’s campus in complete amazement.  The size and the beauty of the campus escapes words.  All that I can say is that all of York College could fit into just one of their quads.  As Chuck pointed out, you could take the Manor complex here at YCP, stack them on top of each other, put the Sparts’ Den underneath it, take all the elevators on campus, as well as a little less than a third of this school’s population, and you would have just one of their dorms.

Anyway, we headed out to the football game.  Houdini couldn’t have gotten through the stadium security without a ticket.  My guess is that they probably wouldn’t let Joe Montana through if he didn’t have a ticket.  Anyway, we went in.  I couldn’t help but look around the stadium and just take it all in.  Then I wondered if the population of YCP could even fill up two of the thirty-six sections in the stadium.

Chuck and I just looked around this absolutely perfect place to watch a football game.  He was there with his brother.  I was there with my brother and Bill, my best friend.  The sun was bright, and over the rim of the stadium you could see the leaves changing color.  The Irish were winning.  Chuck and I just looked at each other and said, “It just doesn’t get any better than this!”  But it did.

Next I went with my brother for an hour and a half trip down to Purdue.  We talked about so many things.  That morning was the first time in over two months that I had ever seen him.  When we where smaller we would always go down into the woods behind the house to search for frogs, turtles, and salamanders.  We had done so much as children together.  He was my best friend for many years.  We talked about a lot of things then, too.  We would talk about our plans for building a dam, or maybe about the newspaper route that we shared, or about our friends, or just about anything that children talk about.

But here we were, both college students, and 800 miles away from those woods that we know so well.  As miles upon miles of corn stalks swept past the car, we talked for the first time in a while. He talked about his classes and Pharmacy (his major).  I talked about the newspaper and other things I am involved in.  We both talked about how we’ve searched for serious relationships with women.  We talked about how we should travel across the country together before we graduate and how we could put a book together about the experience.  He would take the pictures, and I would write about it.

No great problems were solved.  Nothing happened that would change the world.  But yet, it was a great experience, and something that I would not trade in for all the world.  For a while, there it was, just me and my brother and a countless number of corn stalks.  And for me, it just didn’t get any better than that.

At midnight, after my brother Kyle got off work, he took me for a bike tour of Purdue.  Well, I had to pick my chin off the floor.  The campus is a little city.  There is no other way to describe it.  It has bus stops, stoplights, intramural fields with lights, and even a small airport.  It is incredible.  For you Greeks out there, you should have seen the Fraternity and the Sorority houses!  They are incredible.  Some of them are the size of Manor North.  It is unbelievable.  

In the center of their campus is a huge fountain.  Our fountain is like a toilet compared to theirs.  This campus is so unbelievable.

After the tour and some sleep, we headed back to Notre Dame on Sunday.  By then my head was spinning.  After meeting up with Chuck and my friend Bill, we went into the library.  I am not even going to get into it.  From the top floor of this building, you could see the campus.  It was absolutely beautiful.  You could see for a couple of miles.  The leaves were just changing, and the sun was starting to set.  The famous gold dome was set against all this, and I was just in awe.  It was just simply unbelievable.

For sake of room, I am leaving a lot out, but on Monday morning, Chuck and I began our trek back to Pittsburgh.  On the way back, we decided to stop in Michigan, just so we could say we did so.  On a map, we saw that by the Ohio-Indiana border, there was a town called York.  We decided that we had to go there.  After guessing where we had to turn, we found ourselves headed down this road with nothing on each side except for, of course, corn.  Then out of nowhere, we saw two signs that said York, Indiana.  Chuck took a picture of me standing next to the bullet-ridden sign, then we got back into the car to explore York, Indiana.  Well, we literally drove for about 500 feet when we saw another sign basically telling us that we had just left York, Indiana.  So, York, IN, contains two houses, five horses, one Methodist church, one intersection, one stop sign and, of course, corn.  You think you have problems trying to find something to do on a Friday night in York, PA?  

That night, after meeting all of Chuck’s family (all 500 of them), we went out to see Pittsburgh.  It is truly a beautiful city.  If you ever want to see one of America’s nicest cities, travel out to Pitt.  It is great.  Eventually, we found ourselves sitting in a bar watching Monday Night football.  I turned to Chuck, with my feet kicked up, and said, “It just doesn’t get any better than this!”  But it did.

The next day, Sue picked us up and we headed back to York.  As we got closer to York, I started thinking about the trip.  It was so relaxing and unbelievable.  Inside I felt that I could take on the world.  I thought about all the people I met, and about the beauty of this country, and all its corn.  I thought about the friendships that I had and the people in my life.  I thought about how I wouldn’t trade what I have at York College for anything that I saw on the trip.  Very few times have I ever felt that completely relaxed inside, and outside.  I will never forget that trip.  This column just does not do it justice, but there is one thing that does. 

As we approached Harrisburg, I looked out the back window, and I was awed.  What I saw was one of the most beautiful sunsets in my entire life.  The dark hills and a silouette of a farmhouse and barn was set against a deep reddish-orange background, that faded into  purple, then blue.  Above that there hung the night sky with the stars gleaming in all their majesty.  And up in the left hand corner, was the slightest crescent moon that reflected the colors of the sunset.  I was left completely speechless as I gazed at it.  I felt as if I was about to cry.  Then I tapped Chuck on the shoulder for him to take a look.  Then I whispered very lightly, “It just doesn’t get any better than that!”  And it doesn’t.

Thank you, Chuck, for the experience of a lifetime.

Until next week:PEACE.