I have always been proud of being a Cal grad, and this fall’s Homecoming helped me appreciate the value of being a member of the Cal family more than ever before. To set the tone for the weekend, the weather for this special occasion was perfect—in the 70s with a sunny sky and a slight cooling breeze. Seeing the view of the campus from the top of the Campanile rekindled my love for the San Francisco Bay Area after 30 years of living in Georgia.

Being a Golden Bear in conservative Dixie is a far cry from life in Berkeley; it’s like living in a foreign country twenty years ago—especially in the rural South, where I live. It’s not that people are uneducated or unintelligent or unkind; it’s just that they don’t have the same open-mindedness or flair about themselves that you find in the Bay Area. So being once again at Cal brought back a time of my life that long ago was gone with the wind. It felt good to be back to relive my youth and reflect on the changes I experienced at Cal, symbolized by the fact that I entered as a crew-cut freshman and left four years later with a ponytail.

Last October 13, I spent all day Friday wandering around campus wearing my Cal letterman’s jacket, recollecting my time as a two-sport athlete and student at Berkeley. I can’t tell you how many students looked at me with suspicion: a middle-aged man in a Cal letterman jacket, beaming with a big smile. Even the ladies at the registration table asked if it was my jacket, not believing I could still fit into it. “After all,” I protested, “I am the same guy.” The miracle, they told me, was that I was the same size.

After registering for Homecoming, I walked through Sather Gate and Sproul Plaza and down Telegraph Ave. for a dose of New Age reality, noticing the new stores but also the familiar type of street people with purple hair and vendors selling hippie paraphernalia. My first stop on campus was at Edwards Stadium, where I had spent many hours as a track athlete. My recollections were strong: running against three world record holders in my first two races, the NCAA championships at Cal in 1968, the original Kennedy Games, the Big Meet, and the boycott by some black Cal athletes who refused to run against USC after Martin Luther King, Jr.’s assassination—leaving me to run alone against O.J. Simpson and Lenox Miller, an Olympic silver medallist. As I’ve often told my friends, it was guys like me that made them look so good!

After my visit to the track, I walked up the hill past the Campanile to Memorial Stadium to visit an old football teammate of mine, Ed White ’68, former All-American and All-Pro, now Cal’s offensive line coach. As his linemen ran through their drills, Ed talked about the team’s problems—an offensive line riddled with injuries and manned mostly by freshmen and sophomores, the bad luck the QB and receivers have had in their passing game, and the fact that they could have won each game if, if, if.. . .

Saturday morning’s breakfast with the Class of 1970 was held at Sproul Hall with former Chancellor Clark Kerr as our guest. The reunion committee had outfitted the lobby of Sproul with pictures and artifacts from the late ’60s and early ’70s: a video depicting the Free Speech Movement, anti-war student strike photos, and other mementos from that famous era. The reunion committee also presented Chancellor Robert Berdahl with a check for $129,000 from our Class.

The pre-game activities on the Esplanade of the Campanile included brunch with the chancellor for all classes. A member of the Class of 1925 led us all in “Hail to California.” From there, the alumni walked to the north end of the stadium for a procession onto the field before the game began. While we were waiting in the hot sun, the Class of ’70 became impatient and began singing, “We Shall Overcome,” with their hands held high, making the peace sign. We finally got into the stadium and made our appearance, but when we were told we had to exit the field, this same group of raucous grads sat down on the turf and chanted, “Hell no, we won’t go!” The demonstration was short-lived but appreciated, at least by our classmates, who understood the tongue-in-cheek reference to tumultuous days past.

Then came the highlight of the day, the Cal-UCLA football game. The Bruins were ranked 13th in the nation, having beaten Alabama and Michigan, and were a 17-point favorite. Cal had a 1-4 record, including a sorry loss to Fresno State the week before. Miraculously, Cal jumped to an early 21-7 lead, but, following a Cal fumble, UCLA scored just as the first half ended.

Cal quickly scored again in the third quarter to make it 28-14. In the fourth quarter, two costly Cal turnovers led to two quick touchdowns for UCLA, tying the score at 28 as regulation time ended. “Here we go again,” moaned the fans in the season ticket section where I sat. But the most spectacular part of the game was yet to come. In overtime, Cal scored quickly on its second play, with a pass down the middle for a touchdown. UCLA followed with a hard-fought ground attack that finally scored to tie the game once again. The second overtime saw two field goals, with Cal’s barely making it over the goal post, forcing a third overtime. After the Bears scored a touchdown and made a two-point conversion, UCLA had its chance to tie the game once more. Again, Cal’s defense played tough against the run, forcing UCLA to use its passing attack. From around the ten-yard line, the Bruin QB threw to the left corner of the end zone, where Cal’s defensive back intercepted the ball for the game-ending play. After three overtimes, Cal had prevailed, 46 to 38.

As I watched the fans carry Cal’s QB off the field and the thousands of students swarming the field along with band members and cheerleaders, it was a sight to behold (and one I had never seen during my days as a Cal football player). This celebration on the field added to the many other wonderful moments that made homecoming a special event, unlike any I had ever experienced. Indeed, the Cal victory was icing on the cake of a perfect reunion and homecoming, and climaxed a weekend I will long remember.

I never would have imagined my return to Cal after 30 years away would be such a delight. The game was incredible, the weather was perfect, the homecoming was nostalgic. The University remains on course as a leading institution, proud of its history and its most recent Nobel laureate—who received a tremendous cheer when he was introduced at halftime of the football game. Indeed, as a Golden Bear in Dixie, far away from Cal, coming back home made me more proud to know I was still a member of a select family with shared, uncommon experiences. Thank you, Cal, and Go Bears!

Jim Smith, a chiropractor in Warner Robins, Georgia, is the author of several books, most recently a novel, Poisoned Love: When a Chiropractor and an Orthopedist Fall in Love.

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