Chapter 2: As Before, So Again

Monday, June 27, 1983

When I woke, around seven, the sun was shining through the thin curtains. We wouldn’t have a chance to sleep in all that often, but I put thicker curtains on my mental shopping list anyway.

Even with the window closed, it was obviously much colder this morning. Score one for remembering the weather! That wouldn’t happen often, but I did have one major exception yet this year (though not at Northwestern).

One very major exception.

David was still snoring (literally, though mercifully softly), so I quietly grabbed my stuff and took off for the bathroom. It was entirely possible that these seven weeks would be the only time in my life where I’d need to use a shared bathroom at the end of the hall. Many dorms had those, but I thought there was a very high likelihood that I’d never be in a dorm again, except for short programs of one sort or another. Maybe youth hostels? That could happen, possibly.

I took a shower and got ready for the day, then dressed and headed back to the room. David had shifted, but that was it. I read for about fifteen minutes, then got up, letting the door bang enough to hopefully wake him. I wasn’t up for being a babysitter, but I’d be happy to occasionally wake him if needed.

For this first day, I’d gone with a red polo and khaki pants. I had no idea what I’d worn the first go-round, but I suspected I wouldn’t have approved of it in the least. That said, it would still probably have been better than what a lot of these kids were wearing. Too many of them had on navy pants and white shirts. A good quarter of them had on ties.

We would have formal days, but this wasn’t one of them. The contrast this morning would be particularly amusing.

Over the next little while, a constant trickle of kids came in. Northwestern had several programs this summer: Drama, Radio/Television/Film (production, not performance), Journalism, and Engineering in addition to Debate. I wasn’t sure, but I thought Journalism and Engineering kids stayed in a different dorm. Maybe Radio/Television/Film, too.

Elder had room for about four hundred kids. That’s almost the size of each grade at Memorial. I didn’t know everyone in the junior class, and I’d certainly not know everyone here. Debate was likely over one hundred boys, along with quite a few girls. Perhaps another hundred? Even with Debate overall having a notable gender disparity, nothing said Northwestern had to take students in the proportion they applied. They could easily take the cream of the crop of both genders.

What this all added up to was this: by five minutes to eight the common room was packed, and the lobby and staircases were packed, too. I had no idea if David was here. I couldn’t even see much of the crowd. The dorm just wasn’t built for this many people to be packed into this space.

I saw a guy in a sport coat, with a pale blue shirt and no tie, coming up the walk. He stepped into the lobby, looked around, then shouted, “Settle down!”

Wonder of wonders, people actually did. I wondered if that usually worked. Maybe only on the first day, when most of the kids were as off-center as possible?

Another guy, dressed similarly, came in and went into the common room. I heard him shouting as the door closed.

Our guy said, “Everyone! My name is Dale Bayer. I’m a graduate student in Communications. I’m happy to welcome you to the 1983 National High School Institute, or just NHSI. Whichever program you’re in, you’ll room together here and you’ll eat your meals in the same place: Sargent. What you do after that depends on your program. Today, we’ll separate you at Sargent so representatives from your program can collect you at nine-thirty for your orientation.

“In general, we won’t be doing that. Pay attention to the route. Look at the map we gave you yesterday. Ask a friend if you forget. We know you’re high school students, but we also know you’re the best of the best or you wouldn’t be here. We’ll treat you like you’re responsible until you prove that you’re not.”

That sounded a trifle overblown, but it also was true. They wouldn’t seriously try to watch everyone (an impossible task), and kids were expected to follow the rules, be where they were supposed to be when they were supposed to be there, and so forth.

He gave us five more minutes. Just a couple of minutes after eight, he said, “Okay! Follow me! We’ll collect anyone who’s late in a bit.”

We headed out, following him. The other guy had the kids in the common room following us.

The weather was still ... crisp. This could easily be a December day in Houston. On the other hand, yesterday had been just like a Houston summer day, complete with the humidity. Chicago was like that.

The group quickly spread out until we filled at least a city block. As long as the people in the back could see the people in the front, we should be fine. I stayed near the front, both because I was hungry and because I was curious to see everything for the (second) first time. The ‘me’ that had seen it forty-one years ago wasn’t this me, after all. This was equal parts redo and brand new.

Sargent was part of that. When I saw it, I recognized it immediately and knew exactly where I was. I could even remember parts of the interior. Five minutes ago, I’d have had no idea what the front of it looked like. I’d been able to remember what the milk dispensers had looked like and literally nothing else.

Dale led us in, but stopped outside the dining hall. The other guy caught up after a few minutes and both of them moved in front of us.

“Gentlemen!” Dale said. “Please pay attention to the signs! Debaters, to the left! Journalists, in the middle! Drama, to the right! Be with your group, or you’ll wind up in the wrong program’s orientation and everyone is going to be very confused! Plus, you’ll miss things since we’ll have to get you to the right program after they’ve started!”

There was a little murmur.

Dale waited for a second, then said, “Everyone nod like you understood me!”

Everyone started nodding. I thought it was funny, anyway, and it looked like many of the others saw it that way, too.

“We need to clear the lobby. The girls are already here. Get to know them. Do not get to know them too well! If you have friends in another program, yes, you can go say hello, if you can find them. Try to not do too much of that today! Now, go, eat! You’ve got about an hour before we drag you off to orientation.”

I checked my watch. Eight-thirty. Most likely they were giving us some padding today.

Everyone dispersed into their sections. Well ... almost everyone. I headed to Drama first, and wasn’t surprised to find Jas, Angie, and Paige sitting together near the door.

“How’s your dorm?” I said.

“It’s pretty good,” Angie said.

“I like it more than the USC dorm,” Jas said.

“Eh,” Paige said. “It’s fine. It’d be better with some guys.”

All of the girls at their table giggled at that.

“You do know they want you meeting the boys?” I said, looking around at the lack of empty seats.

“They snoozed, they lost,” Paige said. “We’ll get to know them soon enough.”

Jas give me a kiss. “Besides, I already know the one I really care about.”

“Same in reverse,” I said.

Jas gave me a wink. “Uh huh. Definitely.”

I shrugged, then smiled. “I guess I’d better go eat.”

“Yeah. They’re trying to keep us on schedule, it feels like,” Jas said.

I waved goodbye, then went to the Debate side. As I did, I spotted David going in. I was glad he’d made it.

“Hey, Steve,” he said, sounding a little out of breath. “I figured you’d made it ahead of me.”

I nodded. “Catching up with my girlfriend, and sister, and friend over on the Drama side.”

“Ah! Got it!”

They had bacon, sausage, eggs, a bunch of cereal options and bread options (including biscuits and pastries), coffee, tea, soda, and water. It was pretty much as I’d remembered it, and pretty much like Indiana.

Once I’d gotten my food, I spotted Cammie. The girls in Debate had done almost the opposite of the ones in Drama. Most of them were in the back, and they’d spread out a bunch more. I glanced over the group but didn’t see anyone else immediately familiar.

Cammie waved, then got up as I put my stuff down.

“Hi!” she said.

“Hi, yourself,” I said.

We sat.

“Everyone, this is Steve, my Debate partner back home.”

“Hi, everyone!” I said, smiling, drawing chuckles.

The table had four other girls and two other boys. It turned out the boys were each partners of one of the other girls, and the remaining two girls were partners at home, too.

“Did you hear about Nationals?” I said.

Cammie nodded. “Yup! All the seconds!”

“And Amit got the Prom topic. Twice.”

She giggled. “Mel thinks that’s really cool.”

One of the other girls said, “Prom topic?”

Cammie nodded, then said, “Steve, you take it.”

I rolled my eyes playfully, then said, “Our team that went to Nationals, Lizzie and Janet, went to Prom. Together.”

“Wow!” one of the girls (Mary, I was pretty sure) said. “And it went okay?”

“I heard about that!” Larry said (I think it was Larry). “It was in the papers.”

“Yeah,” I said. “That’s how Amit got it as Extemp topics at Nationals. Twice. None of us have ever heard of an Extemper getting a topic about people they’re good friends with.”

“That would be so trippy,” Vanessa said. She was Mary’s partner.

“So,” I said, “Now you’ve heard about our news. Tell me a bit about your schools.”

Cammie rolled her eyes, but it was indulgent, not annoyed. It turned out that Mary and Vanessa were from San Diego, Paula and Larry were from Kansas, and Rita and Manny were from Orlando, Florida. All three schools had sent at least one student to Nationals this year. None of them had sent anyone to Tournament of Champions, though.

Right at nine-thirty, Dale was back, shouting at us. I’d seen him bring two sets of stragglers in while we were eating.

“Debaters!” he said.

Again everyone quieted down.

“We’re going to morning assembly now. You’ll do this every weekday morning unless something unusual is going on. We always start weekdays with assembly.

“Debate assembly is held in the largest lecture hall of the Northwestern Technological Institute building. The building is huge — there’s no way that you won’t be able to find it once you’ve been there — and the lecture hall is directly in front of you if you enter through the doors that face Sheridan. If you come in from the other side, you can circle around inside. Now, everyone, follow me!”

We did, in a big dispersed mob. Cammie and I held hands, which probably confused some of them, since I’d mentioned that I had a girlfriend who was not Cammie. We were close, though, and they knew that.

Well, the people at my table knew that, anyway.

We headed into the big lecture hall, which was another déjà vu. I’d spent a lot of time in this room and, even forty-something years later, it was familiar. Too familiar, but it was a room. It probably wouldn’t get me in trouble.

Cammie and I headed down to the front, settling in the third row. This room had space for at least six hundred, at a guess. We weren’t going to fill it. We weren’t even going to come close.

Gene and I had tended to sit in the back, but that was then, this was now. Cammie wasn’t Gene, and I wasn’t that me.

I had another little déjà vu moment while I was waiting. Just before the morning assembly, one of the girls had walked in, gotten to the front, sat down, and then fell over, convulsing. They’d rushed in paramedics who took her away on a backboard. In the end, it turned out to be a caffeine overdose. They’d pumped her stomach on the way to the hospital, and I’m sure given her some medication to slow her body back down.

Once they’d gotten her down, she’d gone to sleep. Twenty-five hours later she’d woken up, passed whatever hospital tests she needed to pass, and been released. She’d finished the program with us. I remembered being impressed that her parents hadn’t demanded she be sent home.

Was she here? I knew almost nothing about her beyond that story. Not her name, not her looks, not where she was from. Nothing. At least four girls were here who hadn’t been here my first go-round, and for all I knew there were more. Might they have displaced her?

If I’d known, perhaps I could’ve done something. As it was, I’d just have to hope it worked out as well this time.

As we waited, I kept an eye on the back of the room. There were two doors and it was a huge room, though. I saw a few other maybe-familiar-from-Indiana faces and some that might have been at tournaments. For all I knew, people I’d debated were here and I just didn’t recognize them.

Or, rather, people I’d debated this go-round. There was almost no question that I’d debated some of the people in this room. I just hadn’t done it yet.

Sometimes thinking like that hurt my head, but what can you do?

Dale came in with two other obvious grad students, one female, along with a fortyish guy in a tweed jacket. That jacket was another memory.

“Hello!” he said. “I’m Professor Danforth, but you can call me Prof or Matthew if you want. Or Doctor Danforth, or Sir, or ... well. Whatever, as long as it’s polite.”

He got a round of applause for that.

“Welcome to the Debate section of the National High School Institute. I’m the head of the Debate program this summer. The NHSI goes back a long, long ways, back to 1931. We pride ourselves on bringing in the best of the best and giving them a college-level — sometimes graduate-level — education in their chosen discipline. It’s entirely up to you what that means to you. Your parents have paid a small fortune for you to be here, and you’ve been selected because we think you have the potential to be special.”

Heads nodded. Too few, in my estimation. I knew exactly what he meant. Cammie obviously did, too. No surprise; it was something we stressed at Memorial all the time, and not just in Debate. Being there was an opportunity, but it was up to you to take it.

He nodded after a few seconds. “Some of you are nodding. Some of you look puzzled. The point is this: if you do the minimum, you’ll get the minimum out of this. If you do everything at your current level, you’ll leave here at your current level. The way to leave here better is to up your game. We’ll give you every opportunity to do that, but it’s work. It’s a lot of work. Now, in your favor, you’ve got time to put in the work. This is the longest summer program in the nation, and it’s as long as it is because we think you need the time.”

Some of the kids around me looked nervous. Well ... good.

“We’ll make sure you have time to enjoy life. College students don’t study every minute of every day, and neither should you. We’ve got a number of outings planned for you. Every one of them is optional, and we know they won’t appeal equally to everyone. That said, if you don’t go to at least a few, you’re short-changing yourself. All work and no play makes Jack a very dull boy.”