It was my first day at Emory University in the fall of 1963. I was with my fellow freshman on a huge, green lawn on a breezy, crisp day. We awaited some sort of orientation.
The campus was in a section of Atlanta called Decatur. It was and is an older, distinguished neighborhood.
I was Jewish, attending a Methodist school, because, it could provide an excellent premedical education. I was to learn that would match up well with the needs of many of my soon to be, Jewish, fraternity brothers
That day out on the lawn I was scared. It was all new to me.
Like most of my fellow freshmen I was now competing with a smarter group of students than I had in high school. It was an unknown.
As I look back it is hard to believe how wet I was behind the ears, so much so…
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