Junior year, I lived in Branford over the archway closest to York St. by the walkway between Branford and JE. We had a memorable two-room “suite”, small and wonderfully unique. Complete with fireplace. Our common room, the one you walked into, had a small window that opened onto a sloping slate roof. I would climb out that window, climb over the top of the small peaked roof, and nestle into the crevice formed by the angles in the roof. I loved the architecture of the sloping roof lines, loved the perch, and most especially enjoyed hiding in plain sight. Someone on the Branford/JE walkway would occasionally see me but I was mostly invisible. It was a sweet spot to relax and breathe.
– Joel Bard
My most memorable place at Yale was the small outdoor café on the top of the Art and Architecture building, where I went the night Martin Luther King was killed, watched The Hill neighborhood burn in the riots that ensued, turned 20 at 3:30 am, and came down having decided to dedicate my career to education, which, as it turned out, was just the right thing for me.
– Paul Chapman
Among my strongest memories of my time at Yale are the times I dropped acid…especially lying on a roof somewhere and watching shooting stars zoom across the sky. Were they real? Does that matter? Related to this was the room one of my “tripping buddies” lived in. He had painted it black – even the ceiling.
– William Vogel
Pleasant place for lunch with a spectacular view of downtown New Haven and the entire campus. Remember meals here with Professor Dick Goldsby and graduate student Perry Karfunkel, who were key mentors and friends in my early career as a scientist. Always grateful for the truly powerful positive influence of Yale’s scientific community on my education and personal growth. I gather this space hasn’t been a restaurant for a long time, but it was a lovely place in the 1960s. Felt very special and privileged. 🙂
– Neil Blumberg
Whenever doubts, worries, and anxieties crept up on me, I would abandon whatever reading room I was in and take a late-night stroll up science hill, usually ending at the top floor of Kline Biology Tower, an unparalleled place from which to look at Yale’s beautiful campus arrayed before me. Usually unlocked, the building still conveyed the vague sense that I wasn’t supposed to be there, so the feeling of breaking some rule was an additional benefit. When I returned to continue reading or just to sleep after these wee hour jaunts, I always felt that the cloud had lifted off my head.
– Greg Abbott