It never felt unusual to see people having fun at 126 N. Congress.

For two years, it seemed to be the natural spot for my college friends to nurse (or shotgun) a few beers on the porch as we solved the world’s problems one at a time, or host a Thanksgiving-style dinner, or pre-game before heading out for the night. It was the place for a bonfire with sweaters or a cookout with sunglasses. A huge party with thumping music or an intimate gathering during mom’s or dad’s weekend.

We thought calling it “The Capitol (or capital)” was clever because it was white structure that sat on the top of a small hill. But, retrospectively, I think it was more fitting because of the role it played in our lives — as a hub for our friends.

(It was easy to find photos from many folks’ Facebook pages of people at the capital… not all photos are mine.)

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