Dr. Cameron Grace Estrich
Dear Cameron - My memory of our first meeting floats like a bubble, still iridescent and clear, upon the greater swirl of turmoil and confusion that makes up the autumn of 2001 in my mind. The first thing I knew about you was your joy. Your laugh, a pure and unrestrained cackle, drew me, like a spell, down the hall, and into Raymond House’s common room while I was on a whirlwind campus visit that October. I entered, and there you were. Crouched like a spring behind the arm of a worn sofa, a pillow firmly grasped in your small hands, all your coiled energy focused into what promised to be a devastating riposte against your assailants. Our eyes met, and I must have grinned at you because I certainly got yours in return. I know we were introduced to each other, but I have forgotten by whom. We chatted that evening, got dinner together, and then parted, you back to your freshman year and I back to Scotland. The following year, ba...