Generations of Longhorn Roommates Become Lifelong Friends

When I first stepped foot into my 75-year-old dorm room my freshman year of college, I realized I’d been misled. It was the fall of 2012 and the little space on the third floor of Prather — which I’m still not sure how to pronounce — looked about half the size of the room in the photo I’d seen online. The building, enshrouded by the shadow of Jester Center, had no elevators, the hallways were dimly lit, and there was a concerning musty scent wafting through the air. I remember thinking, this is it? And, as if to mock me, my room just happened to face the sun-kissed walls of San Jacinto Residence Hall, where I was convinced students lived like royalty.