Friday, May 7, 2010

All Together, Almost

In my first letter home from college I thanked my parents for the speedy delivery of my money and related all I had learned, primarily that before I could go home at the end of 6 weeks for a week end, I needed a permission slip signed giving me permission to "leave campus". The rules allowed two types of permits, a "general permit" and a "one time" permit. I sent the form for the general permit. There was no form for the restricted permit, but I assumed Daddy would write a note or something when I needed it. I even hoped he would trust me enough to sign the general permit.

Daddy was one smart cookie. He figured out that if he signed it, I could leave any time I wanted, as long as I signed out properly saying where I would be visiting. Neither of us realized his signature was required even to go home for the weekend!

At the end of the six weeks I picked up an "Off Campus Permit" from the dean's secretary, filled it out, stuck it in my mirror (instead of returning it immediately to the office) and did not think
about it again until Saturday morning when I was on the bus going home. I had told them in my letter what time the bus would deliver me to Deep Run.

The moment I remembered my permit was still stuck in the mirror, I must have let out a moan and looked in agony, because the girl sitting beside me on the bus asked me what was wrong. When I explained my dilemma she said it was very serious. I could get expelled! She had been chairman of the womens' judiciary the year before, and knew how the trial worked for girls who broke the rules. She suggested that we ask the bus driver to stop at the next gas station so we could use the phone. I talked to Miss Morton, who gave me a stern warning. I was instructed to have my father bring me to her office Sunday night to varify that I had been with my parents all weekend, and as a little parting news she informed me that I did not even have permission to leave campus. My dad had not returned the form, written a note giving his permission for me to leave - nothing!

It was a miserable weekend. Sunday night Daddy assured Miss Morton that I was with them from the time I stepped off the bus. She explained to him that every time I went home he would have to write a letter giving his permission, and that he should trust me to have a general permit like all other students. Daddy relented, signed the darn permit and when he left her office, she asked me to stay while she made me feel bad by telling me that I had caused a whole lot of trouble by being absent minded, but she felt that it would probably be my last quarter, "because as irresponsible as you are, I won't have to worry about you another year!"

The next night I showed up at the women's court. My friend from the bus went with me as a witness. I fully expected to be suspended, at least. The sentence was "campused" meaning I could only be in my room, in class , the dining hall, or the library for six weeks.

I went to Lavina's room to tell her the news. On the day she had helped me register we noticed in the catalog that a new Director of Physical Education had been hired by the name of Dr. Nephi Moroni Jorgensen from Rigby, Idaho. We were so delighted that we called to see if we could go to visit them. As far as we knew, we were the only Mormons on campus. They welcomed us warmly, invited us to dinner and used our services occasionally to tend their four children.

Soon a branch of the church was organized in the city with Dr. Jorgensen as branch president and a handful of other members plus quite a few investigators who had read about it in the Greenville paper. Of course, I was not even allowed to go to church during the six weeks of my sentence!

The Jorgensens remain good friends, and it was my pleasure to provide a home for their oldest daughter when she became a freshman at BYU. Our house had an apartment on the side which we gave to her and two friends who stayed rent free all summer.

A final note. At the end of the first quarter at East Carolina, with those six weeks of nothing to do but study, my grades were very high. I made the Dean's List. When Miss Morton was ready to record our grades I went in alone and proudly presented my report card. She looked very surprised. It was the first time she had seen me since she had called me down to berate me again a couple of weeks after the incident with my dad. She just wanted me to know how lucky I was to still be there. As you would expect, the whole dorm had become aware of my predicament, and another girl left without signing out. These are Miss Morton's exact words, "She thought she could get away with it, too. She got caught, and is now expelled! See what you have caused!"

We learned later she was pregnant and wanted to go home, anyway. She used me to justify her spending the weekend with her boyfriend.

Miss Morton could not hide her surprise at my near perfect grades. I must have has a look of superiority when I confidently let her know, "I'll be here next year!" Which I was, and long after she retired in the spring, and made all the freshmen happy.

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