I might have lost myself in the burning color of a New England fall at Williams College or walked, who knows how far north, until hypothermia drew the inevitable curtain—but I had a new home now to which I could return and that thought halted my inadvisable journey.  Compassion, support (and some curiosity) surrounded me at Williams’s Alpha Delta Phi.  Unfortunately, during my last year at Williams, the diseased wind of liberalism began to blow like a silent enemy around our chapter house.  And not long after I graduated, the administration closed it.  It was then a “cutting edge" decision, or so it was viewed.  It is deeply saddening to write of this misguided event, but before our chapter was smashed as a viable fraternity, I had learned much: I had learned to keep quiet, mostly.  The speeches in chapter meetings sounded in many cases, as if they had crossed the rude bridge that arched the flood to our east.  One brother, particularly verbal, went on to become Commissioner of Baseball.  I needed to listen closely to those who commanded the flight of words.  I am not saying we didn’t discuss the amount of beer needed for the Wellesley choir party, but the talk was impressive and portended sound futures for so many.
 

I also found direction from a fellow ΑΔ who, through his unique responses, led me to discover that when anxious, I could be a phony.  Hard, but a sound epiphany for my later tumultuous career in public relations.  I learned tolerance: my roommate, a tough boned wrestler, called me his "artsy-crafty" roommate.  Little did I know that I had transferred to a Greek domain of premier athletes.  I got back at my wrestler buddy by opening the window behind his bed in the middle of a New England snowstorm.  Well—he’d asked to be awakened.  Suffice to say, while many brothers were slapping on shoulder pads during football season, I was applying make up at the college’s Adams Memorial Theater.  Still, chapter athletes encouraged my creativity, as I dove in with gusto into the theater department.  When I won second prize in the Alpha Delta Phi Literary contest, I was lauded, no less.  “We’ve never had anyone here like you before," a brother commented with tentative admiration.  At first, I wasn’t sure where that comment was going—but it was, indeed, encouraging.  I could have been sneered down.  Instead, the brothers, tough as they were, embraced diversity.  I will not forget this lesson.  I could contribute in a different domain.  And life presents many domains.  I was also taught excellence: deep in that valley, overseen by the benevolent presence of Mt. Greylock, Alpha Delta Phi and Williams College demanded excellence.  It was counter to the “fast and flawed," which sometimes appears in contemporary work.  I learned comradeship: Nelson “Buck" Robinson, now gone, a New England swimming champion, took me, a frightened “new guy," under his wind.  We sat together at meals.  When I had displayed enough academic detail, he nicknamed me UNIVAC, after the famous computer—a sardonic glimpse of humor at our home beneath the hills.  I still hear from Bro. Low, whom my dad, no slouch himself, called a “go getter."  Joe was my other roommate and later stormed the New York financial world with marked success.  As a Williams Alpha Deltn, he had a laundry franchise and a good one at that.  My point in all this is: I learned the value of a goal driven “fraternity experience," which lasts a lifetime, or should.  And if you offend, apologize and move on.  As I see Alpha Delta Phi flourish (I’m sure it’s not always 100% uphill), I am once again proud of my fraternity and optimistic about the Greek system.
 

Both of my fraternities are gone: Stanford, where I pledged and Williams, where I graduated.  I do understand that an effort is being made at Stanford to regroup.  Reflecting on the movement to abolish fraternities, I deeply feel it was short sighted, if not cruel.  I am pleased to watch the Greek revival and have finally steeled myself to co-education therein.
 

Alpha Delta Phi has a mission: our culture is becoming quite self-absorbed, sometimes greedy, and often without much tradition of personal sacrifice, or very little, for others.  Within the measured walls of Alpha Delta Phi’s many and diverse chapters, there is beginning to develop a spirit of healing for this sometimes confused and often relativistic culture.
 

Let’s get on with it.  Let’s continue to seek excellence in word and manpower and, if necessary, set a counter cultural agenda when our country needs it.  Consider: it was our founder, Samuel Eells, who bequeathed his vision of intellectual activity, and granite morality to our Greek experiment.
 

As I read about our fraternity now and its determination to grow like a pine tree in deep snow, I imagine Samuel Eells is earnestly smiling at our progress, as he rests in comfort beneath the rich soil of Hamilton College.—

It would be inaccurate to portray my life in Alpha Delta Phi as a long Utopia, that pain never paid a visit or amends, perhaps, needs to be made.  Nevertheless, pledging ΑΔΦ was the right choice for me.  

Some Stanford brothers may wonder if at all, why I concentrated on Williams College and New England.
 

It hardly needs to be said that a significant number of Stanford Alpha Delts went on to contribute immediately to this country.

New England, with its history, theater, and natural beauty gave me a new road I needed to travel.  

 My original home is California.
 My present home is Kansas.
 My heart is in New England.

Bro. Bob Marrin, S’58, WMS’61, is a freelance writer living in Kansas City, Missouri.  Bob can be reached at: vladamir17@aol.com.