Will I ever make a friend here? I thought, standing in the crowd waiting for the elevator at the end of a long workday. I was in my mid-30s and had just recently moved to Orange County, California to become copy editor for a Pulitzer-Prize-winning newspaper, but I had yet to make any close connections at the office—a workforce of a few thousand employees.
The closest I’d come was trading friendly hellos with the older woman who always left around the same time I did. Her West Coast style really stood out to me: bright-colored tops with long, flowing, flowery skirts and jewelry made from nature—like the painted sand dollar pin she wore today. Next to her, in my drab pantsuit, I looked as out of place as I felt.
Some days I wished I was still in Ohio. Never in my life had I lived so far from Mom and Dad, even in college—I’d studied journalism at Ohio University in Athens, just like Mom. Adjusting to my new job 2,500 miles away was difficult. I missed having people I could count on nearby.
In the crowded elevator, a pin on one man’s briefcase caught my eye. Three letters: OSU. Ohio State University? I wondered, feeling a twinge of homesickness. I almost said something, but who talks in crowded elevators? Then another man spoke up. “Is that for Ohio State?” he asked.
“Yep,” the man said. “I’m a Buckeye.”
A chain reaction followed. One by one, everyone in the elevator shared his or her alma mater. “I went to Ohio University in Athens, my hometown,” I said timidly.
The woman with the flowery skirt and sand dollar pin perked up immediately. “I went to Ohio University, too!” she said. “Of course, that was almost 50 years ago.” “That’s about when my mother went there,” I said.
The elevator doors opened and we stepped out into the parking garage. “My name’s Carol,” the woman said. “What was your mother’s maiden name?” “Marion Lavelle,” I answered.
“Marion? Marion and I were Alpha Xi Delta sisters,” Carol said. “You look just like her when she was younger!” When my parents came to town for a visit, the old sorority sisters were finally reunited. Carol became like a second mom to me during my years in California. She brought me food when I was sick, helped me make friends, gave me work advice, and before long I was dressing with a bit of West Coast style too.
