It is sad to see lights out at Lahiere’s (Campus Notebook, Dec. 8). One of my first childhood memories is sitting in the dark back of a station wagon parked on Witherspoon Street with several kids, all in pajamas, blankets piled high. We would peer out of the car, through Lahiere’s windows, at our parents (Tolands, Morgans, Ballantines, and Bucks) as they enjoyed festive dinners. It was the early ’50s; half of the grownups were graduate students; they were happy; and they kept careful watch over us at a relaxed distance. When I attended Princeton, and later visited as an alumnus over 40 years, I often returned to Lahiere’s for a comforting dinner and always angled to get a seat by those softly lit windows with a view of the street.
It is sad to see lights out at Lahiere’s (Campus Notebook, Dec. 8). One of my first childhood memories is sitting in the dark back of a station wagon parked on Witherspoon Street with several kids, all in pajamas, blankets piled high. We would peer out of the car, through Lahiere’s windows, at our parents (Tolands, Morgans, Ballantines, and Bucks) as they enjoyed festive dinners. It was the early ’50s; half of the grownups were graduate students; they were happy; and they kept careful watch over us at a relaxed distance. When I attended Princeton, and later visited as an alumnus over 40 years, I often returned to Lahiere’s for a comforting dinner and always angled to get a seat by those softly lit windows with a view of the street.