Walls crash down on decades of memories

It had to be a little melancholy for some Arkansas State University students last week, watching their former home disappear into a cloud of dust.

The university imploded its nine-story Seminole Twin Towers dormitory complex Sunday, clearing the way for green space and eventual new buildings. The residence hall once housed 700 students, before closing three years ago.

I never attended ASU, so naturally I know very little about this dormitory. But I did spend four years of my life living in on-campus housing. And because of that, I can imagine well the stories of ASU's twin towers.

If I spoke to the former occupants of that dorm, I imagine I'd hear tales of weekend parties and late-night study sessions. I'd hear stories of broken-down elevators and crowded showers. I'd hear accounts of hall sports and stacks of discarded pizza boxes.

That's what life is all about in a college dormitory. It's crowded, uncomfortable, noisy and sometimes stinky. And it's also one of the best times of your life.

My college days were spent at Southeast Missouri State University in Cape Girardeau, Mo. I spent four years living in the dorms there, the first two of which were in Southeast's version of the classic "towers" dorm, in this case, a four-tower complex with residence halls bearing the ever-so-creative names, "North," "South," "East" and "West."

My home was in West, which was at that time, the last remaining all-male dorm on campus. And that right there tells you a lot about what life was like. It was loud, smelly, obnoxious and crazy. At least once a week, it seemed, someone would pull the fire alarm at 2 in the morning, forcing the evacuation of all 12 floors. The TV lounge was almost always full of guys watching sports or movies of every conceivable variety. And the favorite prank was to dump a bucket of cold water on people when they were in the community shower.

It truly was the "Wild West." Yet I made good friends there, and had some great times. I'll always remember the afternoons of hallway hockey, or the time when someone super-glued a quarter to the sidewalk below our rooms, and the whole side of the tower would watch out their windows and laugh when someone tried to pick it up.

I can probably relate a little bit to the former students of Seminole Twin Towers, because the West that I knew is also long gone. In this case, however, it wasn't an implosion that did it in; it was a renovation. The year after I moved out, Southeast closed West down, and converted it into a newfangled "suite-style" residence hall, which opened the following year. The wild West was no more.

I knew some kids in college who never lived in the dorms. They either commuted from home, or maybe got an apartment off campus. And there's nothing wrong with any of that. With college costs being what they are, there's no shame in living with mom and dad while you can; and off-campus living provides a certain breathing space that you can't find in a residence hall.

But all the same, a year or two living in a college dormitory is something everyone ought to experience sometime in their lifetime. It's an experience that will provide a lifetime of memories. And even if the university someday renovates it — or worse, blows it up — you will always have those great stories to tell about your old home.