In September 1955, just off the boat from Italy and not yet 17, I enrolled as a freshman at Harvard College. Luckily, I already knew English. Although I was born in Florence just before the outbreak of World War II, my family had taken refuge in New York during the conflict, not returning to my birthplace until 1947. Eight years later, when it was time for me to go to college, my parents decided I should do so in the United States. My trip to Cambridge began with their delivering me to Florence's Santa Maria Novella train station and waving good-bye. The Ferrovie dello Stato, Italy's train system, conveyed me to a boat at Le Havre, which in turn transported me to New York. Another train landed me in Boston. With a bulging suitcase in hand, I took the subway from South Station to Harvard Square.

I still remember my dismay when, expecting to be greeted by the inviting setting I had seen in pictures, I exited from underground to see nothing but traffic and busy stores. I timidly asked an elderly, professorial-looking passerby the whereabouts of Harvard. He answered, "You must be a freshman. Walk a few steps forward, turn to your right, and you will see a gate. Go through it!" The sight of the promised Harvard Yard reassured me. A room on the quad also portended well. But soon I received another shock, albeit a minor one: wearing a tie and jacket was obligatory at all meals. I came equipped with the latter, but I had no tie. Since this meant no meals, I immediately went out and bought a bow tie--the clip-on variety, so that I wouldn't have to learn how to tie the knot.