PROFILE
Tiger Nation
Old Tiger Recalls First Impressions of LSU By Sherry Sanchez
Sherry Sanchez (1971 BACH BUS 1972 MAST BUS), an attorney in the law offices of Robert Wheatley in Tustin, Calif., shares LSU memories with readers. Since I am cooped up with this COVID thing – I am on my work computer now, at my ranch in California – I started remembering my first encounter at LSU in the summer of 1967. The year was 1967 and I had just flown in from Agadir, Morocco, to start my freshman year in Evangeline Hall. I had never set foot in Louisiana before. Bucking the family tradition – A seventh-generation native Californian, my dad was a USC grad, my mom a Cal Berkeley grad. But I took the road less traveled. My parents were mad about archeology, so we spent summers driving from one North African hellhole to another to see Egyptian ruins, Carthaginian sites, Ottoman fortresses, you name it. In the summer of ’66, prior to my senior year in high school, we were driving to Marrakech when my folks handed me a copy of Barron’s Guide to American Colleges and Universities, and said, “Pick a college and get out of our sight.” So many choices – There was a lot to choose from, since I had good grades, high ACT and SAT scores, was a National Merit finalist, etc. The only limiting factors were that I can’t stand very cold weather and lacking a “Y” chromosome, I could not attend any military academy or Cal Tech. In those days, females were not allowed. My high school had more than 4,200 students, so I did not want to go to a small college, which would seem like high school with ashtrays.
Sherry Sanchez and her husband, David James, in Hong Kong.
LSU had it all – 20,000 students on campus, four days off to go to Mardi Gras, a very active Greek system (Delta Zeta legacy) and Playboy magazine ranked it highest on its party school charts, stating that LSU was not listed in the Top 10 college party schools as LSU had moved into the pro ranks. Looked ideal. Sent off my application to LSU, Alabama, and University of Georgia and waited to hear who was interested. Leaving on a jet plane – It was late August of 1967 and Southern Morocco was hotter than blazes. Flew to Grand Canary Island, then to Madeira, then Lisbon, and that’s where things went awry. I did not have a confirmed reservation over the pond. I was stuck in Lisbon airport, age seventeen, with nowhere to go. I located a TWA manager and explained that I was seventeen, traveling alone, and had to get to LSU – because if I arrived late, I would miss sorority Rush Week and my life would be ruined. He took pity on me and asked if I would be willing to ride in a jump seat with the flight attendants. I said I would ride in the luggage rack if it would get me over the pond. So, I rode to Boston in the jump seats. From Boston it was a short flight to Kennedy in New York where I had to change planes to the Delta flight to New Orleans. Back then suitcases were not on wheels. I was trying to drag a heavy suitcase out to the curb to catch the shuttle to the Delta terminal. I was struggling when a nice Marine took pity on me, grabbed the suitcase and asked “What terminal?” He rode with me to the Delta terminal and carried my bag to the check in desk. I never got his name. A short flight to Baton Rouge, and a cab ride to Evangeline Hall. I was in a threestudent room. The other girls – one from Shreveport and the other from Vicksburg – were moving in with the help of their parents, with custom-made bed spreads, table
92 LSU Alumni Magazine | Summer 2020