A TRIBUTE TO MY ALMA MATER
Many years have passed and many miles lie between me and the place that taught me so much.
I am now an old man and I live in the Great Smoky Mountains. GVSU was called Grand Valley State Colleges when I attended, back in 1976 and until 1978. It consisted of the College of Arts and Sciences, William James College, and Thomas Jefferson College.
One of my CAS professors scoffed and called William James, “CAS with beards”. TJC was truly experimental. That’s where I learned to meditate and that’s why, more than anything, I am writing this tribute to the University.
Last night, I was advising a young man on how to begin his practice of meditation and I told him how Professor Ava Arsaga taught me how to sit still, and become aware of life. Over the years, that skill has benefitted me more than anything else.
Besides that, I had some wonderful professors and a great student advisor and teacher from Tennessee (all of whose names I’ve sadly forgotten) who helped me through difficult times, inspired me, and taught me all that I needed to navigate my life.
Before I attended GVSC, I had no direction. I drifted from one job to another, picking up the stray college course at Grand Rapids Junior College, at the University of Alaska, and at Alaska Methodist University. I always worked fulltime and when drafted into the army took my first class in psychology while stationed in Anchorage.
I’d worked nearly four years at the Grand Rapids post office when I realized that I was bored stiff and wanted to accomplish something in my life. I returned to school and graduated with a Bachelor of Science degree in 1978.
I’d hoped to become a psychologist, but, when my best friend died unexpectedly in the summer of 1977, I went into a tailspin, neglected to renew my student health insurance, my wife got sick, and because I’d gone four days without health insurance, I ended up bankrupt. Imagine my surprise!
So, my days of school ended and I took every civil service test available to me. Lo and behold, I ended up as a State social worker. My first assignment was in Ontonagon County, up in the Copper Country. We had 390” of snow that winter. When I shut my eyes, I can still see the eerie sight of lightening flashing over the Porcupine Mountains during a blizzard. I got to meet a lady who was descended from the famous Hatfield clan (of the Hatfield/McCoy feud fame). Her husband had been an engineer for Boeing and he ended up as a dairy farmer in Trout Creek.
After that, I spent 28 years working in seven different Michigan counties. Because of these jobs, I met a fellow who had been a lumberjack during the Great Depression. He told me how he had carried his chain saw through waist-deep snow from Petoskey to Harbor Springs. I met another man who knew the great country singer/writer Hank Williams. Through him, I got to meet members of Hank’s band, the Drifting Cowboys.
It wasn’t a pleasant job. Sadly, it became more like an assembly-line job, always with more work than time to do the work well; but it was interesting. I got to visit scientists at the MSU research center at Douglas Lake and I even got to protect some children during a stint as a Children’s Protective Services’ worker. Near the end of it all, a pedophile tried to kill me and I had to live in a hide-out for six weeks before transferring to my final assignment in Roscommon.
I’d always hope to be a published author, but after all was said and done, I did get to be an editor of ten books on Southern Praying Mantis kung fu, Hakka boxing, and other esoteric martial arts.
Life is good. I recommend it to everyone I meet.