The above quote is from Robert Dokson (Class of 1966). Read the full memory below:

I was one who could never study in my room, but always at the Library. The Rock opened my junior year, and that was where I almost always studied during my last two years at Brown.

I did have a favorite carrel in the stacks on the second floor.

During the reading period and exam period in first semester junior year (which was 1964–65), my friends and I would gather together on the second floor during study breaks. At first those breaks might have been five–ten minutes after an hour or more of studying, but as the week wore on the study periods got shorter and shorter and the breaks with my group of friends got longer and longer. Finally, my friend Cookie Gold (Pembroke ’67) said “This is ridiculous. If we are going to spend so much time out here, let’s do something constructive. I am going to teach all of you how to play bridge.”

So, the next day, and for days thereafter, Cookie brought cards to the lounge where we all gathered and she taught a group of us who had never played bridge before how to play. I have to admit, without denigrating all the other important things I learned while studying at the Rock, learning bridge was perhaps the thing that has stuck with me the longest and has been the thing I have most enjoyed throughout the next half century. Thanks Cookie.

The above quote is from Peter S. Kaufman (Ph.D., 1969). Read the full memory below:

I read Colin Rowe’s famous article “The Mathematics of the Ideal Villa” (1947) which launched Postmodernism. Professor William Jordy recommended it. I went on to work for the Rockefellers for many years in midtown Manhattan, and I continue to work for them in Woodstock, Vermont where Lawrence lived. He was a big backer of Apple Computer.

The above quote is from Andrew Eisenberg (Class of 1984). Read the full memory below:

Watching the site fall outside the second floor Windows in those egg shaped chairs. I would get my stack of books, monographs, assignments and nap/read/watch the snow/think/relax all at once in those chairs.

The above quote is from Rachel Ostrand (Class of 2009). Read the full memory below:

One of the best shows of school spirit I ever participated in, as a proud member of the Brown Band, was toting our instruments through the Rock metal detectors and playing “Ever True” to the scandalized inhabitants of the Absolute Quiet Room.

The above quote is from David S. London (Class of 1964). Read the full memory below:

My first memory of the Rock is of interviewing David Rockefeller for the BDH after the dedication ceremony. Then come memories of trolling the carrels looking for my Pembroke girlfriend, Toby Parker ’65. Since our wedding, two weeks after her graduation, things have come full circle; Toby and I have raised a family, retired, and moved back to Providence, where our downtown apartment has a beautiful view of the Rock from our living room!

Returning a small carton of overdue books a week before graduation so my diploma would actually be signed!

The above quote is from Bill Friedman (Class of 1996). Read the full memory below:

I would estimate that I probably spent 30 percent of my time at Brown in the Rockefeller Library. I was never someone who could productively study with all the distractions in the dorms—so almost every day—I would march over to “The Rock”—and a routine was born.

On days when I had no exam for which to prepare—I would bunker in the 2nd Floor reading room—typically leaving my books at a table near the windows and then set up shop in those great green recliner chairs that faced the window. I would read (and nap) there almost every day. I often wonder if those chairs are still there, or if they exist somewhere else on campus. I would love to buy one!

On the days when I had an exam to prepare for that required maximum focus—I would head to the 2nd basement level (no windows!)—the back corner desk—and always use the same two books off the shelf to help me cover up the notes on my outlines that I wanted to memorize. My routine was so well known to my friends, that often if they wanted to find me—they would check one of these two locations (remember – we had no cell phones or email!).

The final component of my “Rock Routine” was to read the sports pages in the ground level newspaper room—with the papers hanging from those long wooden rods. I would venture a guess that not too many people read the Providence Journal (and other) sports pages as often as I did in my four years! Sad to think that these days, people would laugh about reading the hard copy of the paper on those wooden rods.

Hard to believe it has been almost 20 years since I last employed my routine—but I take heart knowing those long hours in the Rockefeller Library were where I developed the work ethic that has helped me find my way after I left Providence. Whenever I’m blessed to be on campus, I always make a pilgrimage to The Rock and reflect fondly on the scores of hours I spent there.

The above quote is from Jim Beagan (Class of 1974). Read the full memory below:

As as student, I worked at the Biological Sciences Library when it was still in the old building. It did not have the space to store journals that were over five years old. When someone wanted one of those journals, they made a request, and each day someone had to go over to the basement of the Rock, where they were stored, pack up most of the requested materials in boxes, but carry back the urgent requests (i.e. those requested by faculty). The basement was real dark and creepy, maybe more so because the Rock Star (sexually explicit) material was down there. Let’s face it, temptation was too great, and you always worried someone would come down and see you checking it out, and a lot of the Rock staff was definitely worrisome. Nelson, the older man who ferried the delivery van, was really cool, however. Walking across the green, lugging large journals stretching my arms out as far as they could go, was a painful memory of the Rock.

In another “I’m so old” thought (lugging hard copies of articles around). I am reminded of listening to records and reel-to-reel tapes for Music 1-2 at the Rock.

The above quote is from Elizabeth Feroe Bakst (Class of 1967). Read the full memory below:

It was February 1966. M Charles Bakst ’66 had been the top editor of the Brown Daily Herald. I occasionally worked as “CC York” at the Pembroke Record. CC York was the byline used to mask the true identities of a string of writers of a snarky humor column for the Record. CC decided to twit the Brown Daily Herald for some sanctimonious editorial comments denouncing noise and parties which the BDH claimed made the new Rockefeller Library an occasionally loud and distracting place. So it was that I and several friends ambushed “Chuck” Bakst with a surprise and loud birthday party which we photographed and gleefully reported on in the Record. Fast forward. I write this in February 2014 as Charlie’s wife of 46 years. He’ll get a much more subdued party for his 70th birthday on February 22, 2014. You see, we still Rock on, so to speak.

The above quote is from Jeff Anderson (Class of 1984). Read the full memory below:

Six years before I walked through Van Winkle Gates, I had my first encounter with The Rock. It was April 1974. My father was pursuing his college degree, part time at night, from Rhode Island College. His course schedule at that time included a course in U.S. History. He had a paper due on minorities in the U.S. and was focusing on the Japanese internment during World War II. He had some material but needed to do more research. Thinking the local public libraries wouldn’t have nearly the information he needed, he decided to see if he could use The Rock’s collection in his pursuit of knowledge, but wasn’t sure how to go about it. A couple weeks before the paper was due, he drove up to Prospect Street, parked his car and watched, effectively casing The Rock for weaknesses. He noticed two things: 1) all students showed some sort of card and 2) older adults – professors, researchers etc didn’t and were waved in without showing anything. A week later he decided it was time to get this research done. He drove up on a rainy afternoon, parked and waited. After a few minutes, he saw a group of students walking down Prospect approaching the front door. He quickly got out of his car. Unknowingly he was dressed like Prof. Josiah Carberry. Wearing a long tan raincoat and carrying both an umbrella and a briefcase, he followed the students. They each showed their ID’s and entered. As he approached, the guard said ‘Good Afternoon’. My father replied “Good Afternoon” and continued inside as if he knew where he was going but in fact had no idea what to do next. After collecting himself, having just gained entrance to “The Rock” as if escaping from the other “Rock”, he asked for help and spent the next 7 hours researching his paper. His planning and execution paid off with an “A”. Another 10 years would pass before he would enter the Rock again, but his time it was with me on Graduation Weekend. He entered as he did a decade earlier, with a smile and a friendly “Good Afternoon.” Happy Birthday “Rock.”

The above quote is from Sarah E Meyer (Class of 1983). Read the full memory below:

A 25 year old memory that is as clear as if it were yesterday….I studied at the Rock most nights after dinner. I would sit at a carrell along the outer edge of 2nd or 3rd floor with a view back to the campus during day light hours and a view of myself and everyone near me at night when the windows turned into mirrors.

To set the scene: it’s after dinner, my stomach is full, my blood sugar plummeting and it’s the end of a long day. Inevitably, I would fall asleep a few pages into whatever text I was reading with the yellow highlighter marking the page. What was so funny (and a bit humiliating) about the experience is that with the reflective windows, both my nap and my return to consciousness was witnessed by fellow carrell users. As I resumed my studies on pages now soaked through with yellow highlighter ink and drool, I was greeted with applause by my audience who had watched it all in those damned reflective windows which spared no one!