Early daze memory

A hot afternoon in Southern California was worsened by the fact that a 17-year-old guy, still seven months from reaching 18 years of age, had struggled most the day seeking to register at the University of San Diego. He was somewhat immature, unsure of himself.

He truly had no idea of what he was doing at the site, except that all through high school he had been strongly advised that without a four-year degree he’d never be a success. So he wandered the huge campus, looking for the admissions office, afraid to seek help because of his uncertainty about himself.

At one point he came across a Catholic priest, pacing in front of an ornate building while reading his breviary. He gingerly approached the priest, who took notice, and asked if the boy needed help. He did. After listening to an outpouring of fear and frustration the priest reached into a pants pocket. He pulled out a $5 bill and said, “Well, here’s a nice chunk of change,” then directed the kid to the campus cafe with instructions on how to locate the admissions office.

After having lunch and relaxing a bit, the boy felt much better and more confident.

As a graduate of a Catholic high school for boys, he had escaped earlier than most, but had no idea of his talents or what to study. But at the university admissions desk he sat with a large man in a blue suit, who actually was a cigar-smoking attorney who volunteered for the admissions desk. He loaded the newcomer with 16 units of study.

Due to the young man’s uncertainty as to his future he accepted without question the list of classes: biology lab, biology lecture, logic, algebra, English and P.E. Since he had done fairly well in high school, including working after classes for several hours at a vending machine company, he felt relatively OK with his ability to handle the schedule, including dating a girl who lived in the east part of the county while he resided in the south portion.

He was wrong.

After the first university semester, which included some hazing by older boys, he literally flunked out. He could not understand why, except that by continuing his work after classes and not taking time to study well, he achieved F grades in the two biology classes and algebra, plus a D in logic. His A in English went unnoticed.

Although he promised a stern board of mean men that he would stop working and apply himself only to his education, the group ordered him out. He was crushed, but decided to make the best of the worst situation at the time that he had found himself in.

Somehow he managed to enroll at a community college and made up for the failed classes in summer school. In normal semester classes he also earned A grades in English, photography and journalism, earning an A.A. degree in journalism. And it was at the community college that he met the lovely, smart and talented young woman who would become his wife of 58 years after two years of dating and being engaged. And the rest, with some time remaining hopefully, continues.

Jan and I (oops, yes, it was me) had three great children, two boys and then a girl, now 59, 57 and 56. Last week on the morning after Christmas Day marked the second anniversary of Jan’s passing after dealing with progressive dementia for 10 years. Life does go on, but sometimes the memories bite.