Alas, my four-year journey is complete, and my mark has been made. I’m proud to say that the rest of the senior J-kids and I are leaving behind a legacy that will go unmatched for some time to come.
I joined staff as a sophomore, and was welcomed by a handful of handsome men, and a few more handfuls of handsome chicks. Over the years on the Harbinger, I’ve seen my fair share of fine sights, but also three button-lengths too much of former editor Andrew McKittrick’s chest.
As a sophomore, the legacy that now exists had not been yet formed. I was just part of a trio of chumps led by a middle-aged cowboy, instructor Dow Tate. Current chillers Joseph Cline, Gabriel Snyder and David “Bobo” Finke joined junior year. While the OGs, Tommy Sherk and Michael Kraske, placed themselves in editorial positions, Bobo and I hooped in the gym every other class. Tate, or Hawk-eye Chester as I like to call him, noticed – but said nothing.
Junior year ended, and senior year was calling my name. Senior bros, Nick Mantel and Joel McLiney hopped in the crew, and together the band of hooligans on staff were straight ig’nant. After returning from summer a bit tardy, I didn’t begin my Harbinger duties until January. Since then, time has flown by.
Looking back, the chillers on staff have done more rowdy stuff than any other group to cruise through Room 521. Whether it was locating the 13th floor in Denver, chucking flip flops out the j-room window, throwin’ down nasty dunks or groovin’ at less-than-mediocre concerts while hyped up on Redbull, each and every memory added to the legendary legacy I will leave behind.
I’ve been a part of a brotherhood, all thanks to the Harbinger. My time with Chester and the rest of the homies has been more than memorable. Every story written has been true, every trip has been epic and everything that has happened since walking into 21st Century Journalism has made me the nutty kook I am today.
Sincerely,
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