A bunch of us had a little fun yesterday piling on to a Facebook status of a former professor from Pace University, where I went to school. Judging by the comments, Denis Hurley remains a touchstone and mentor to many, but none of us has managed to quite get over the sting of his sharp-tongued editing notes from back when we were launching our salad days as journalists.
Anyway, Hurley is here, lurking in the background of this 1988 graduation day photo of my good friend, Bernadette, left; and me. All these years later, he hasn’t changed a bit. (And, of course, Bern and I haven’t, either.)
Funny the things one remembers — like how much I liked that peach suit and how hot it was that day in the Westchester (NY) County Center (I nearly fainted under that black nylon robe), how nervous I was to be embarking on adulthood (if only that 22-year-old Terri could see me now!). …
And how my then-boyfriend, Basil (now husband) managed to sleep through the entire ceremony.