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I make fun of The Terrace, because the alumni always say it with a sigh and wistful lilt, like some old lover from days gone by (the same way I refer to my 1969 Mustang). And it is annoying to those of us, not from UofW that every time we are in Madison we must pay homage to the site of their mis-spent youth.
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But, truthfully, it is a magical place. Set in amber from their memories, and still gorgeous in the flesh (as it were).