The Bombshelter ('bä-m&r): The first bar that I have craved going to. What has made a bunch of my Wednesday nights over the past five years thoroughly enjoyable. A place where I have been able to relax and actually get to know all of the people that I meet across campus Thursday to Tuesday. A source of many smiles for me.

Last night, I got to experience my final Bomber Wednesday experience. Sure I could come back in the future, but it will never be like it has been over these years again. I would just be some weird old guy standing in the corner of a crowded place wondering where “everyone” is.

I got to experience last night because of one man: Randy Armstrong. I was a little let down when I got there a little later than calculated and the line was out of the great hall. Apparently the place went from empty to packed within the span of a half hour and Randy and I were on the wrong side of it. After waiting for twenty minutes, Randy met a friend who could try to get him in back door and thought he would try to get me in too. When we discovered that he could only get one in, Randy stepped aside and insisted that I go and he would wait in line. He gave up his last Bomber so I could have mine. He went back in line and didn’t get in.

Randy, although English leaves me with only “thanks,” my gratitude extends much further.