Jonathan Dobres

I have a distinct memory of sitting in front of Warren Towers on a sunny September morning, enjoying a buttered bagel from Bruegger’s and thinking to myself, “This right here, this is it. This is the start of the rest of my life.” If I close my eyes, I can still feel the early autumn breeze, still hear and smell the traffic on Commonwealth Avenue. On the one hand, I was so adorably stupid, this know-nothing college kid on the first day of freshman year. Me in the big city with my little bagel and a slate of intro classes ahead of me.

On the other hand, I was absolutely right.