By Susan Oviatt (Edu’64)

At the age of 2, I was living in Mississippi with my family. Nineteen years later I was graduating from CU-Boulder. Some important things and historic events happened in between. These are worth talking about.

My background includes an amazing family. At a time when few Southern women actually worked outside the home, my mom did, and like my dad, for at least six days each week. Bumps along the way included a bout with polio and a December tornado that passed through the middle of downtown destroying our family’s livelihood, a small retail store.

Yet what really set my parents apart was their reaction to these adverse events and their deep community involvement. I believe they saw this as giving back to a town that had embraced them and provided them with opportunities. And, they made certain that seeds of these same values were implanted in me.

This all happened in Vicksburg, Miss., where life was generally sweet and secure, unless, of course, one happened to be black. In the South then, segregation was the norm. These were the days of “colored” and “white” signs on water fountains and on restroom doors, of housing areas racially delineated by railroad tracks and proximity to anything structurally undesirable or hazardous, of limiting access to city pools, libraries, YMCAs, restaurants and churches by race. Out-of-date textbooks were deemed good enough to be passed on to the minority schools. Buses had understood seating arrangements and job “openings” really weren’t. It didn’t seem fair. I noticed.

After high school I ventured out, but not too far, just across state line to the University of Alabama in Tuscaloosa, where my brother was enrolled. These were the early ’60s. Socially, college life at Alabama was one big party, and academically, it was a breeze, so why my discomfort? While there I was confronted with Gov. George Wallace standing on campus steps insisting that THIS university would never be integrated. The state embraced this mentality. It was time for me to go.

After working for the National Park Service in Yellowstone for the summer, I enrolled at CU in 1962.  Mary Mothershed (Soc’64), a beautiful, accomplished African American woman, was named homecoming queen. Equal opportunity. What a concept. I had selected well. CU and I were a fit.

After graduating I was off again, this time to a teaching job in Coronado, Calif., with new scenery, new friends and little time to reflect back on my time at CU. I had moved on, or so I thought, before meeting and marrying a Colorado native.

Next, work took us to the Dallas area, and in 1989 our only child, Heidi, bypassed offers from a couple of “top” schools and shocked us by asking to attend CU. We agreed. She enrolled and shortly afterward we received an invitation to a Dallas reception hosted by then CU President Gordon Gee. If you’ve ever met President Gee, you’ll understand. That did it. I was back.

Soon I received a postcard invitation to a football watch party. I don’t remember who the Buffs were playing, but with a husband out of town and a daughter in Boulder, why not? There were maybe a dozen people there; I knew none of them, and they were not particularly welcoming. My southern roots kicked in as I thought to myself, “They’re not getting rid of me this easily and it doesn’t have to be this way.” I’ve been involved ever since, striving to help create that welcoming atmosphere and to reach out to CU alumni and friends throughout the Dallas Fort Worth area.

We’ve organized crowds and events to support our student athletes (and fans) practically every time their feet have touched down in Texas, Oklahoma or Shreveport, La. We’ve orchestrated local Big 8/Big12 events and helped host visiting Buff fans for the Cotton Bowl. Our alumni turn out in large numbers to take part in high school student recruitment nights.

This Dallas-Fort Worth chapter awards a small scholarship annually to local area student(s) attending CU. That money is raised, literally one Buffalo tattoo at a time or by having raffles and occasional yard sales. These funds are matched by the Alumni Association and Parent Association. We’re mindful of our local/CU image, that of contributing to our community by volunteerism as a chapter. This has a dual benefit – good for CU and for us as individuals.

Today my husband Gary, a retired pilot who still works occasionally, and I remain in Dallas. I took “a break” from teaching to try my hand at real estate. Three decades later, I remain an active broker. We’re fortunate as our Buff daughter, Heidi Restivo (EnvCon’93) and her family live close by in Austin, Texas, the best weird city in America, so we always have four legitimate excuses to visit the beautiful Hill Country. I would say that we rescue dogs, and we do regularly, but in truth, they rescue us. This and other causes keep us here, in spite of the wretched summer heat. We caught a break recently by taking our young grandsons to CU Family Camp, high in the Rocky Mountains. What an experience. We highly recommend it to everyone.

CU obviously continues to play a big role in our lives. We’re Lifetime members of the Alumni Association and the Directors Club. I’m proud to have served a term as a member of the board of directors at the Association. We’re enthusiastic backers of CU sports and even bigger fans of our student athletes. I believe those “seeds” that my parents implanted by example have kicked in, and have had much to do with my efforts in behalf of CU. To be honest, and I’m convinced that this is the case in most volunteerism, I have gotten far more return in terms of the wonderful friends we’ve made than I’ve ever given. These include our Dallas-Fort Worth Buffs and also some terrific people who work for the university.

If anybody asks, my best advice is that regardless of where you live, if at all possible get involved or involved again with CU. Our lives are richer for it.

So, thank you, CU. I’m happy to be back, and I’m always proud to be a Buff!