Last December the 20th anniversary of my college graduation came and went. I was overburdened with work and family obligations so I didn’t really pay it any mind.
My dad was feeling somewhat claustrophobic these past few weeks. He is particularly susceptible to the cold and he hadn’t dared show his face outside. So since the weather had warmed up and I had a somewhat free weekend we decided to take a day and roam round the campus on a Saturday.
I’ve been back several times before of course but the changes always amaze me each time I go.
The first obvious change is in the trip there. Houston Sprawl. In all directions. More strip malls, more subdivisions, more car lots, just more of everything. For all intents and purposes Katy is now part of Houston proper just as Bellaire and several other smaller cities were engulfed decades ago. You can’t tell where one starts and the other stops. Beyond it the sprawl continues West at a furious pace.
We reach the village of Brookshire on I-10. No doubt in a generation this too will be part of Houston. For now it’s still somewhat isolated. I take what for me was my little secret shortcut to College Station; FM 359. A short two lane road connecting Brookshire to Hempstead. After falling prey to a speed trap in Prairie View in my freshman year of college I vowed to never again feed the system and found this little road to bypass it and all the sprawl in Northwest Houston.
Of course my secret shortcut is now well-known. A convoy of vehicles ahead and behind me. Swarms of bikes on the road shoulders with people biking all the way out here from the city.
At one time this was just pristine prairie with the odd cow or horse to break up the monotony. Now it’s dotted with tiny farmsteads and weekend houses for urbanites to getaway from city life. Some build lavish homes, others live in squalid trailers and have junked cars in the front lawn. Somewhat ruins the pristine beauty of the road for me.
I don’t even see Hempstead. The new bypass goes round and continues on.
Another big change. A new proposed landfill to service Houston. The locals are fighting tooth and nail against it but it seems to be a lost cause. Shame.
I pass Navasota in minutes and approach the outskirts of College Station. The very first sight of it as always is the giant water tower that can be seen miles away. Just the sight of it gladdens the heart. Some things never change. Some do.
College Station fits the definition of an exburb perfectly. If you had fallen asleep in west Houston and just woken up you would swear that you’d never left the city. What was once a two lane road running alongside the railroad tracks is now a divided 4 lane freeway with frontage roads.
Huge billboards advertise land for sale, new subdivisions starting in the 200s. Woods, farmland, and open prairie are now subdivisions, man-made lakes and strip malls. New big hospitals are building next to the highway. Every imaginable chain restaurant or store can be found here.
We skirt round the campus before plunging in. The west campus on the other side of the railroad has blossomed with new construction. All sorts of research labs, state agencies associated with the University and class buildings now dot the landscape and there is still yet more room to grow. The George Bush library is packed with tourists and visitors so we decide to skip it. On the north side is the new crown jewel of the University. The new Mays business college. My dad asks me why I don’t go back and get my MBA from A&M. I ask him if he has eighty thousand dollars lying around doing nothing.
We park at the visitor’s garage next to Kyle field. The rebuild of the stadium is well underway. I can’t believe that they’re spending 450 million on this. But then the whole campus seems to be in a building craze. They have to be with over 55 thousand students. Far larger than the 40 thousand of my day.
Some of the old dorms and buildings are gone. Sad. But the room is needed to keep up. The heart of the University is still intact though. I see many of my old buildings still standing. Old Halbouty hall, the geology building, decorated with trilobites. The old chemistry building with weird astrological symbols along the roof line.
We take a break inside Evans Library. Expanded and modernized. The old microfiche and microfilm stacks are gone. Everything is digital now.
The commons dorms where I spent my first year. Four impersonal concrete bunkers but somehow they seem quaint now.
The corps of cadets. Some in uniform, some not. All distinctive due to their crew cuts.
Such a rush of memories coming at me from all sides. I don’t know if it’s the same for alumni from other schools (although at A&M we don’t have alumni, we have former students). I’ve seen people from other schools describe their college life in fairly plain terms. They go to nondescript schools and take generic classes. But I’ve yet to meet an Aggie that describes their school life in less than glowing terms. It’s hard to explain to outsiders but it’s a feeling of being bonded to the school. Maybe it’s the remoteness of the town (at least it used to be remote), maybe it’s the feeling that the school genuinely seems to be interested in your future.
Whatever the case may be, It’s no wonder that we call school visits, “going home”.
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