I Conquered, But Not Without Loss: One Man’s Odyssey to the McLaughlin Dormitory

Sunlight scattered off the January snow as I watched Hanover slow into view through the Coach window. I thought to myself, O! What a pleasant surprise to see the Sun, which provides sure luminance for all mankind. Yet for me this day it provided a fictitious security for which I shall never fall so easily again. I had travelled long and thought my journey nearly over. It was Winter; I was wrong.

I had walked from the barren Hop patio to the warmth of my Thomas dormitory many a time in Autumn; and as such estimated my travel would take perhaps ten minutes, perhaps twelve on account of my numerous bagstuffs. I had, so I believed, rationed appropriately for the overnight journey of multiple airports, 3-hour carriage ride, and this final pedestrian march. Woe! If only I could have foreseen the hardship ahead; I had consumed all but my last Ziploc of Trader Joe’s Just Mango, and it provided modest to little Energy, and moreover zero Warmth.

I knew I had underestimated the difficulty of the journey ahead when the luggage-fellow bestowed upon me mine own two overladen Gothamite 42-inch duffels, adding to the small carry-on roller I had on my person. To my apprehension, he did not falter there; nay, loading me further with a backpack, and to my dismay! My Alpine gliders and metal buskins! My patrons had carried these long apparatuses, conducive to carving Skiway ice in the winter, to the Oversize Baggage Area for me, and I had neglected to remember I would have to manage them, in the barren tundra of Hanover, in utter solitude.

My suitcase situation rendered me quite like the great lumbering Tortoise, with the bags upon my back erecting my Shell; only with none of the relevant strength of the order Testudines, the bestial reptile class carrying its own lodgings upon itself. Indeed, I felt as if I were two men with multiple ineffectual Appendages! The pugnacious strap on my ski bag dug into my flesh as I slipped – nay, skidded – across the perilous Three Way Intersection which hath fallen many a man and bewildered many an out-of-town driver. I trudged my self through ice and sleet and ineffectual Gravel along the long, extensive Side of the Green. At the end of the quadrangle, having survived dangers unbeknownst to me until this very day, I found sweat upon my brow and a numbness in my extremities. But my voyage was not over yet; nay, it had lately just begun.

My woeful unpreparedness became apparent when I crossed the street. My Rain Coat, though it had been plenty of protection in the Airport, was futile against the Arctic Winds that slashed me now. As I trudged through sleet, ice, and mud, I found my Limbs abandoning feeling. The strain of my bags pressed and stretched my Arms, and they ached and throbbed in indignity, yet with icy claws I clutched the handles of my Gothamites like a terrible brutish raptor. Winter, like misery, is not so easily conquered; yet we have within us a human willingness to see the new day, which drives us so forth. And so I drove forth, past the light of the Library, with small relief in my sights: the antechamber of Novack, which has within its walls such Heat radiating, as if it were the double doors of Hell! But, upon reaching this chamber, I found to my astonishment it was Locked. There would be no relief to the unending blizzard ahead.

With trepidation I reached into mine backpack and did retrieve the last of my Rations. The fruity ambrosia of Joe the Trader gave me just enough fuel to reinstate my bags onto my shoulders; and I did so dutifully, as the Ox does take the burden of the yoke. I knew in my gut I would have naught for food until I reached mine Destination.

And so I dug deep and found within my Soul a Grit that drove me blindly forth. I could not see, I could not feel but for the cold; I was driven only by an internal Flame. This carried me on the long and treacherous path past Moore Hall. In some Blessing of sheer luck and strong Will I navigated the Construction Site in my strange and cumbersome state. I was nearly to the sweet and tender warmth of my Dormitory when I skidded and fell upon mine Ass!

The slush penetrated my jeans and the seeping cold rattled me to the core. Through the blinding and torrential endless blizzard, I could make out only two letters through the snow: G O. I thought at first it to be a holy omen, some signage of God, urging me onward. Yet Foolish Me! It was but the first two letters of the Goldstein Dorm. It was then that I knew mine own Building lay only three score metres in the distance; and yet beladen with my baggage I could not erect myself to standing. I was cold, utterly stripped of all human dignity and, in a final effort for Life, attempted to lurch to my Knees. But I had forgotten the skis which, having fallen from my shoulders, now pinned me to the ground.

Defeat! My end was Certain. I curled into a fetal ball and awaited Death. Putrid mire of ice and mud, take my Soul!

It was then that my UGA Andy ’21 found me in my final moments and lifted mine Bags. “Yo, buddy, need a hand?” Indeed as an Upper Class Man and Friend, Andy had the Wisdom to wear a large Jacket and was not encumbered by the frigid January temperatures. I immediately felt as the Titan Atlas when Heracles momentarily freed him of his Burden. O freedom! O glory! O Warmth upon the Horizon!

“Bro, that would be awesome,” I replied in nonchalance. “You’re a total life-saver.”

Later, as the Warm Water of my Shower trickled over my body, I looked out the window and saw the glistening snow, so deceitfully sparkly; it was nearly noon, and I reflected. Yes, I had lost much. I had lost toes, I had even somehow lost a ski boot. But what is Life without Loss? In the end, we must focus on what we Have. I Persisted; I had a Friend; I had a warm Shower and a Dormitory. Yes, I had Life, and a story to tell! I was a Fresh Man, but not so any more. I was Michael ’23, and this was mine Odyssey.

– AD ’20