The scale of UGA’s campus seemed so large that first day–It took me a good part of my first semester to acclimate to its scale. The library itself was larger and more labyrinthian than the whole of the school I had transferred from. But, it was not that library where I eventually found myself whittling hours away in pursuit of Latin mastery. It was in the simple, unassuming rooms in Park Hall that I would meet Augustine, Cicero, and many others for the first time. The Alexander Reading Room, smaller than my living room, shelved on its walls the great story of Western civilization in all its immortal tongues. Under the tutelage of the generous giants of the Classics department, I went from an absolute Latin novice to a translator of Augustine–and discovered in myself a talent and passion for the essay that gave order and vision to my life. Since graduating I have found myself teaching Latin down here in Florida. I have had many jobs before this one, but none have brought me greater joy than this. I owe the Classics department at UGA everything, especially my patient Latin instructors. They were my Virgils, who walked with me on the winding path as model and guide when I feared I had lost the way.
