The Fellows Common Room in the first Branford courtyard was a place where everything I loved happened. We had meetings of the Branford Council there, planning for May Day activities, a few really great seminars with amazing faculty and the Fellows Cocktail Party every Friday afternoon. In that room I could be a scholar, a radical, an interesting person conversing with other interesting people, or a bartender with a bright future.
Sometimes I would sneak in there and sit in silence alone as I watched the sunlight stream through the old windows and I’d snuggle into the leather couches like a kitten. The world seemed to be all ahead of me then and I knew that Yale was present in the Fellows Common Room. Sometimes I long to be back there, to smell the leather and the dust, to sit in the darkened room as the sun went down or to seek refuge from a mixer turned ugly. It seemed like home for my soul. It is part of me.
– Peter Sheras