We called it the spring semester, but it felt like the dead of winter to me. The never-ending Chicago cold months slapped me in the face. I juggled my new schedule along my books, when I walked into the classroom filled with women. I was a student at Moody Bible Institute.
When we were settled, Ms. de Rosset closed off the entrance. Shutting the door was a code at the school, a sort of signal that some of the more edgy profs used. There was not a lot of academic freedom within the walls of Moody, and a professor could get fired for not believing in dispensationalism or he could be reprimanded if his wife was a feminist. Even a janitor could get the hammer for getting a divorce.