When Sue Kaulfus, a home economics alumna, was little, she spent her summers in San Marcos. Her parents were teachers finishing their degrees, and she grew up in town until she was about six years old, when the family moved to a small place called Woodsboro, Texas. She always remembered those summers, running barefoot near the old practice fields, not knowing yet that the city of San Marcos would one day become such a big part of her life. 

In 1961, Kaulfus returned to start her college career. She moved into Hornsby Hall, a small student-run co-op at the top of the highest hill on campus, where students cooked their own meals and cleaned their own rooms. She still remembers it clearly. 

“I was getting as far from home as I dared,” Kaulfus said. “But once I got there, I felt like I was in the right place.” 

Kaulfus didn’t have a minor, which was common at the time. She worked at The Lair, the campus bookstore, earning fifty cents an hour. That job changed her life. She worked with the sweatshirts and school supplies, while her future husband worked on the book side. They got married after her junior year. 

For many, Southwest Texas State — now known as Texas State University—represents not just a place of higher learning, but a meaningful part of their personal journey. 

Just a few years later, Karen Raymond, an education alumna, arrived on the same campus. Like many others, she came for the education program, which had already earned a strong reputation across Texas. She had briefly started college at Trinity University but transferred to Texas State, then called Southwest Texas, looking for something more grounded and affordable. 

“I was eager to finish,” Raymond said. “I worked part-time in Austin, took 18 to 21 hours a semester and went to school in the summer so I could graduate early.” 

Raymond didn’t attend many dances or join a sorority. She didn’t live in a dorm. Instead, she rented an apartment near campus and spent most of her time studying and working. She still remembers the long walks up the steep hill to Old Main. There were no buses or shuttle systems back then. Students walked everywhere. 

“I had a car, so it wasn’t terrible,” Raymond said. “But we used to joke that someone needed to come up with a shuttle system, and they finally did.” 

One of Raymond’s favorite classes was children’s literature. The professor taught them how to read stories in a way that reached kids and adults. That idea stayed with her as she went on to teach kindergarten and first grade and then became a principal. Later, she returned to Texas State for her master’s degree and eventually joined the faculty at Texas A&M. 

Around the same time, Jacque Smith, an English alumna, was navigating her way through Southwest Texas. She transferred from San Antonio College in 1971 and juggled a full course load with a long commute and a job she already loved — teaching dance. 

“I went to school, went to class, did my homework and went to work,” Smith said. “By the time I did all that, it was dark.” 

She taught dance in Universal City, driving nearly an hour each way. Her major was English with a minor in history, but her real passion had always been dancing. At the time, the university didn’t offer a dance major or even a minor. That didn’t stop her. 

“All I ever wanted to do was teach dance,” she said. “And I was lucky enough to make that my life.” 

Smith eventually opened her own studios and became a high school dance team director. Her teaching certificate from Southwest Texas State helped make that path possible. 

“I got the certificate in case I broke a leg and couldn’t dance anymore,” she said. “But it turned out to be perfect for my family and my life.” 

Though she didn’t spend much time at campus events, she met her husband at the pool of her apartment complex. She still remembers decorating that tiny studio apartment with her best friend.  

“It was probably 15 feet wide and 30 feet long,” Smith said. “But we didn’t feel squashed. We made it home.” 

All three women came to Texas State in different years, from different towns, for different reasons. But their stories echo with something shared. They found community. They found purpose. They found a place that felt like home. 

The university looks different now. There are more buildings, more students, more sidewalks and shuttle routes. Though the familiar feeling remains for those who came before. 

“It’s beautiful what they’ve done with the campus,” Raymond said. “Whoever designed it really kept the landscape in mind. You can tell it’s in the Hill Country. It still feels like a place students would want to be.” 

Kaulfus still talks to her old roommates from Hornsby Hall. Smith still lives in San Marcos, where the campus is part of her daily view. 

“I’ve been back here since 1981,” Smith said. “It’s not the same little town I graduated from, but it’s still home.” 

Texas State has changed a lot in 125 years. In the stories of the people who walked its hills decades ago, some parts have stayed the same. 

It was a place to grow up. A place to figure things out. A place that, for many, still feels like home.