On a cold, rainy day last week I took a short drive to State College, tickets to the memorial for Joe Paterno in my coat pocket. I come from a Penn State family so I don’t only bleed Blue & White, I cry Blue & White. Like so many, I was compelled to say goodbye in person and felt very fortunate to be one of the 12,000 who secured tickets.
The first time I drove Route 322 to State College I was a high school senior. I hadn’t made up my mind about where I was going to college and I was punishing my Penn State father by talking about Pitt. He sent me to visit my older sister in Pollock Hall, I came back ready to swear my allegiance to all things Nittany Lion.
That first drive came back to me last week. It was cold then, too, with snow here and there on the ground. Back then the highway ended at Port Royal; from there it was two-lane to Seven Mountains. There were no “convenience” stores loaded with gas and snacks. If we stopped to eat, it was at Zimmie’s Diner in Mifflintown. I nearly took the old route, just for the memories, but I didn’t have the time.
What I did have, though, was the luxury of being alone with my thoughts. I tried to remember that girl of so many years ago. She would have been amazed at how her life turned out. She didn’t understand that going to college would change her, mold her, benefit her in so many ways. She didn’t see the husband, the lifetime friends, the multifaceted and meandering career path. She just knew something was out there and this was the road to find it.
I arrived in State College, had lunch with a friend, and we boarded a bus to the memorial. I had wanted to walk across campus, like I’ve done so many times, but it was raining. We stopped at the Paterno statue before heading into Bryce Jordan Center for the memorial. More than enough has been written about that; I’ll leave it at “I was there.”
When we came out, it was still raining but I decided to take that walk across campus, a path I’ve taken so many times after a game. Past the swimming pools (I remember when it was just one), through Pollock Quad, past South Halls and onto College Ave. I stopped at the mural, altered twice in the past three months, which I had never really looked at before. I bought my sister a hoodie. I paused at some storefront memorials.
And then I got back in my car to make the trip home. After my first visit to State College, I had no idea how life would change. When I left last week, I knew that things would never be the same again.
