by John Pittman ’20
If you were to ask us, the men of Hampden-Sydney, we would say that these are the times that try men’s souls and that the sunshine scholar and springtime Tiger have indeed shrunk from this land. We all know—and ignore the fact—that our time on the Hill is finite. However, none of us knew how finite it really was. How many of us ate in the Commons, walked through Morton, chatted with a professor, or spent time with a friend just before spring break without knowing that it would be the last time we did so this year? All of us.
As with so much of our unique college experience, we are all in the same boat. I believe that if a Hampden-Sydney man’s strength lies anywhere, it lies in his support system, comprised of his classmates. With each other, each day is what we are living for—not the grade that tomorrow might bring. If one is known by the company he keeps, then the like-minded idealists with whom we go to school make us who we are. Without our friends, we feel less than whole. Of a long-anticipated Greek Week, of those precious final moments on the Hill, of farewells and parting words, of time with one another, we were robbed.