By Micki Brushwood

It begins with a short walk down Belhaven’s memory lane.

Footstones of the impactful educators that hundreds tread upon everyday greet those seeking knowledge. The lane of trees sway in the wind as a crisp chill occasionally bites the air. Preston and Fitzhugh stand in the distance as twin pantheons for the artistic and the academic minded. 

A man walks by in a dark blue shirt and black pants, lugging a trolley for the mail he delivers. He stops for a long moment on his phone. He moves inch by inch slowly, still with his eyes glued to the phone, wearing an Exel shirt. 

Petrichor intensifies the smell of the flower garden that is sprinkled with its own petals from the rain the night before. Birds chirp, and the speakers play a violin concerto. It is quickly drowned out however by the rushing, powerful “smack!” of the fountain’s water flowing. 
Ashley Glirbas, an English major, walks by wearing a checkered shirt, three-quarter length jeans, and a smile. 

As for the fountain, it is loud and blue—an unnatural blue, nearly navy. The reason for the fountain’s occasional change of color has always been a mystery to students. Though inviting and beautiful, swimming in the fountain is forbidden. However, when the sun goes down, the daring take the risk. 

Preston and Fitzhugh, also known as the twins, were once a singular building until it caught fire in the early 1900’s. the middle of the building was lost, but the sides remained. Belhaven then chose to turn one building into two and Preston and Fitzhugh were born. In the middle, the two stone arches around the fountain are what remain of the area that burned. The fountain is a tribute to the building. 

Dr. Roger Parrott comes up the steps, greeting, “Hey, how are you?” He smiles before entering the front door of Preston to the comfort of his office.