Connecticut College
 New London, CT. 

July 4-10, l993 

Despite some drawbacks, I enjoyed this place very much. This college was formerly a women's college, but now men were also enrolled. The grounds were very beautiful, reflecting what was probably a large endowment. There was a very good art gallery on the grounds and a superb library. The dormitory, however, included a very long bathroom separated half way by a curtain; men on one side, women on the other. As you might imagine, when a voice of a different gender was heard, I noticed that conversation died for the entire length of the facility.

I gain an ounce or two just thinking about the food. I am fortunate that I am not fixated on desserts; otherwise I would have give all my clothes away! I am sure every student majors in gastronomy if not gluttony!

An eighty-something-retired Professor who was an expert in Irish History taught the course I liked the most. She was of the old-fashioned mode; all lecture. Still, if questions were to be asked, students had to submit them in writing the night previous to class. Of Irish History, I remember her saying many times: "You would think that, logically," such and such would happen, "but that is not true with the Irish!"

The course I liked least was about Harry S. Truman taught by a young whippersnapper of about 40 or so, who was writing a "Psycho-biography" of Lincoln. According to this instructor, Truman was always wrong, and probably responsible for sunspots, acne, athlete's foot, and bad breath. I got a little tired of interjecting opposing views, as I had just finished reading David McCullough's magnificent biography.

One Elderhosteler related that when he was walking in Washington, D.C. early one morning, there was Mr. Truman walking along, accompanied by secret service agents. Truman approached this man and asked him…what do you think of this…and what do you think of that? My classmate said: "I don't know" and Truman just walked away. What an opportunity lost! How often does one get a chance to speak directly to the President of the United States? What would you say?

I think the ghost of Harry Truman was hovering over this Elderhostel. I cringe to think of the language he would have used! Would he have thought the instructor was also critical of Margaret Truman's singing? I stared at a lonely piano, but the keys did not move.

The third course was on English country dancing, led by a jolly man with a concertina. It was a grand physical outlet for the tragedies of Irish History and the distortions of a "revisionist" historian.