College

University of Wisconsin - Superior I was on Marine Security Guard Duty when I applied for college. I typed draft letters that I planned to send to colleges requesting admission. Since there were so many secretaries at the Embassy, I asked a couple of them to review my letters before I sent them. I knew the secretaries. They knew me. We attended parties together and talked many times. I even asked some out on dates. Well, I never got my letters back. Instead, they gave me letters to send that looked nothing like my letters. I mean nothing! That’s when I suspected I had a problem. The secretaries never said anything about my letters, my wording, my errors, or any discrepancies. They were very helpful and probably I got accepted because of their letters. My SAT score was pretty low. I realized much later that my letters were so poorly worded and written, with such poor grammar and bad sentence structure that it was easier for the secretaries to write a letter from scratch that encompassed what I intended than it was to correct the letters that I gave them to review. So, why was my English so poor? The answer is simple. I refused to learn English grammar and penmanship. I was very successful in not learning English in grade school and high school. My English entrance exam for college was evidence of that. I could not write complex sentences. I definitely could not write a paragraph. My reading speed was at a 6th grade level, but my vocabulary was several years beyond the 12th grade. It is interesting that my reading speed was so low. I read a lot in the Marine Corps. Anyway, I paid the price in college for my stupidity. I eventually had to learn to read and write at a college level. It was a grueling task to raise my literacy level, and very embarrassing since my teachers where so dismayed at my lack of ability. I was 22-23 years old and had 14 years of work experience when I started college. I attended the University of Wisconsin - Superior from the Fall of 1979 through October 17, 1980, when I withdrew. During that time, I studied German as I had learned basic spoken German while escorting the cleaning crew through the Embassy in Germany. In order to understand German grammar, I had to study English grammar as I didn't know either. In both cases, I used grammar books in English for non-English and non-German speakers. I also took Freshman English. I used many English tutors, including my girlfriend, who was an English major. I took every class that I could where a paper was required. My girlfriend corrected my spoken and written English. I rewrote my work many times before it passed her inspection. She also worked at teaching me how to speak English correctly. That meant correcting my spoken English when I misused grammar. Her parent's reprimanded her for correcting my English in public. The fact was, I told my girlfriend to correct my spoken and written English whenever I didn't use it properly whether in public or not. We worked together for a year. Correcting my spoken English was harder for me than correcting my written English. I have her to thank for helping me write and speak as an intelligent human being. During my time in Superior, I took Governments of Western Europe and the Russian Seminar. Both were political science classes taught by Dr. Kenney. He wanted me to participate in the Model UN Program. I would have, but I had no extra time. I was carrying 16-18 credits on a quarters system. I had a full-time girlfriend, and I was working part-time. The highlight of my time in Superior, other than my girlfriend, was the Russian Seminar. It was a six-credit course and included Saturday classes. Dr. Kenney lectured on the history of the early nomadic tribes which later evolved into the fifteen Republics of the Soviet Union. We had to read a pre-revolution history book, a post-revolution history book and The Russians, a contemporary non-fiction work about life inside the Soviet Union. We also had to learn to speak various Russian phrases. Once the course work was completed, students from across the entire University of Wisconsin system went to the Soviet Union for two weeks. After the trip, we had to submit a paper. My Soviet Seminar Paper is attached as a PDF document.
Soviet Seminar Probably the Promethean	Soviet Seminar April 17, 1980 Promethean
By October 1980, I had burned-out. My class load was too heavy. I was putting in too many hours working, and my girlfriend had received a Fulbright Scholarship to study Norwegian in Norway. She was a very bright girl. She frequently told me that I was slow. It always made me smile when she said it. She really was very smart. She was pursuing three separate degrees. If memory serves, they were English, Drama and Speech. Comparatively speaking, I was slow, or put differently, she was definitely smarter than me. In the beginning of October 1980, my brother contacted me and asked if I was interested in coming to Alaska to work in the trades. It was right at that time that I burned-out. I was so brain dead that my grades dropped from As to Fs. Also, my girlfriend had left for Norway. There was no reason to stay in school, so I withdrew so my failing grades would not be recorded. I packed everything I owned in my pickup and left for Alaska. It took me three weeks to drive to Anchorage Alaska. The drive itself was worth withdrawing from school. It was stunningly beautiful. I entered Canada by way of Fargo North Dakota and drove across Canada to Whitehorse in Canada's Yukon Territory. I continued up into Alaska and finally down to Anchorage. The drive to Anchorage was one of the best experiences of my life. I started work as an electrician's apprentice in early December 1980. [link]. As a starting apprentice, I didn't have to think. Basically I was a laborer and that was fine with me. My brain was so tired that I didn’t want to think, not even about the smallest matters, but as the months passed, so did my burn-out. I began to ask questions, and I studied the wiring systems being installed. The installation seemed simple enough, so one day, I asked the journeyman if I could pull some wire. I said it didn't look all that difficult. My gosh! Was that fellow insulted! I didn't pull wire that day, but that's the day I became an electrician. By November 1981, I had logged 1,947 hours in the trade. To keep track of my hours, I carried a notebook and logged every job I worked on, the job site address, and how many hours I worked. Eventually, I logged enough hours to sit for Alaska's electrician's licensing exam. University of Alaska - Anchorage As my burn-out waned, I started thinking about going back to school. I had completed a year and didn't wanna give up my original plan. So, when the time came, I applied for admission to and was admitted by the University of Alaska - Anchorage on January 12, 1981. I started the Spring semester with the minimum number of credits to be considered a full-time student. I also continued wiring residential and light commercial while I went to school. My work hours were flexible enough. I just had to get the job done, so I'd start wiring at first light, took off my tool belt to attend class. When class was over, I went back to my job site. I carried a full semester class load, 12-15 credits, but never more than that. I also kept my electrical work in balance with my schoolwork. Basically, that was my work routine until my last year in my undergraduate program. I was getting a double major, so my pace and the extra classes added to the length of time it took to graduate. I had no intention of getting burn-out, ever again. I substantially reduced my electrical work during my last year to compensate for the more difficult classes I was taking. By the end of the 1981 Fall semester, I could see my graduation date on the horizon. I liked working as an electrician. I was planning, or at least thinking, about how I could use my degree to start an electrical contracting firm. I could see the money being made in the trades and wanted part of it. I was also thinking about working as an accountant as that was my major along with finance. Working toward getting my CPA certification was realistic. I wanted to be a tax accountant. Another career route that interested me, or certainly intrigued me, was going to law school. It seemed that everyone who was anybody was an attorney, and they seemed to be everywhere doing everything except practicing law. I started looking into how and what it would take to go to law school. I didn't tell anyone I was thinking of this, mostly because the thought scared me. I could barely admit to myself that I was thing of it. It was like I was peeking into a place I wasn't allowed to look at or enter. Finally, as the realization grew that I could go to law school, I mentioned my thoughts to a trusted confidant in a hypothetical context. He laughed and told me that I didn't have the money or the smarts. That was the end of me mentioning my thoughts to anyone. One day, while eating lunch in the school cafeteria, I was approached by a grad student who was looking for a candidate she could give a personality and intelligence test as part of her master’s program. She was a very attractive girl, so I thought, if the test business works out, we might go dancing or something. It turned out that the girl was very easy to talk to, and since I really wanted to see if I was a rock, I took the tests quite seriously. After they were over, she explained the results, which I never understood. The intelligence test showed that I wasn’t a rock. When I asked what she thought of me attending law school, to my utter shock, her reaction was so positive that I was skeptical. But during our ensuing conversation, her attitude and rationale were so organic that I didn't think she was fabricating some sort of response that she thought I wanted to hear. To put it bluntly, she didn’t think I was crazy for thinking that I could go to law school. She thought I was smart enough and encouraged me to apply. She did, however, concede there would be a money issue. We never did go out, and after taking the tests and our conversation regarding law school, I never saw her again. By the time I graduated in the Spring of 1984, I had decided not to pursue a career as an electrician. I also decided, for the time being, not to pursue my CPA certification. I applied to various law schools. I was accepted for entrance on August 28, 1984, but I decided I would apply for a job with the FBI. I wanted to chase organized crime money. I had my initial interview in Anchorage. I took the FBI's tests. I passed the accounting test. I passed all their other tests, expect for their English test, which didn't surprise me. The agent told me I could come back and take it again. Then I asked whether I would have to carry a weapon. The agent looked at me like I was crazy! His look carried a heavy disdain for my question. "Of course!" he said. I told him I didn't want the job if I had to carry a weapon. I think my reply almost caused his head to explode. I never went back to take the English test. That test never made sense to me. I graduated from college. Why the H* did I need to pass an English test or even take one! It was bizarre, laughable even. I never again had any interest in any law enforcement position. I spent the summer wiring, saving as much money as possible, and preparing to leave for law school. I had prepared a budget for law school. I didn’t have the entire amount, but I had enough to pretty much fund my entire three years. Some of those funds came from student loans, while the rest came from working. At the time, I was working for a fellow who I had worked for regularly over my time in Alaska. He knew I was going to law school. We were talking about his plans for his contracting firm. He said he needed some capital and had maxed out his credit cards. I said I could loan him some money as I didn’t need it all at one time. He said he didn’t wanna borrow the money I had saved for law school. I won’t say I insisted, but I did encourage him to use the money. Besides, the interest would help fund my program. We finally agreed on a payment plan with a lower interest rate than he had to pay on his credit cards and higher than I was getting at the bank. The payment plan synchronized with my law school program, so I was good. Working in Alaska was very interesting. I never made it out to the Bush or up to the North Slope. Having been on Embassy Duty, I knew what life would be like in isolated locations, albeit, different in Alaska than at listening post in the Sinai Desert, but a remote location is the same wherever it exists. Most of my work in the trade was in and around Anchorage. I also traveled to Valdez and Seward Alaska for work. What I remember most from my time in Alaska is its natural beauty and the people I met. The people were the most interesting. I met non-indigenous people who lived in Alaska long before the pipeline. I had friends who were Aleut and Eskimo. They were unique relative to everyone I had encounter up to that point in time. I spent hours talking to them and listening to their life stories. I came away from those encounters thinking how different their lives were compared to mine. The impact on my thought process is hard to describe, but to use Dr. Kenny's words, When I left Alaska in 1984, I wasn't the same person who had arrive in November 1980. My attitudes had changed in many respects. I had clearly been broadened and enriched. Cumberland School of Law Samford University Birmingham Alabama I budgeted six weeks to make the trip from Anchorage to Birmingham and to find a place in Birmingham before school started in the Fall. I took the Cassiar Highway through Canada. The drive was stunningly spectacular. I drove my old pickup. Frankly, in hindsight, I should have thrashed everything and flown. It would’ve been more cost effective, but I wanted to drive. Besides, I wanted all my stuff and didn't wanna pay to ship it. I also didn’t wanna have to buy new stuff. My truck burned a lot of oil and leak even more out of the rear main. I brought along several cases of oil, but oil turned out not to be an issue. Tires were the issue. My tires were basically worn out and the gravel road, in addition to the weight the truck was carrying, caused my tires to blow out. You'd think that would not be a problem. I was carrying old spares, but they blew out too. Still, you wouldn't think that would be a problem, but in the wilderness, even a small issue can be a huge problem. It took some time, but I finally found replacement tires. They were used and only slightly better than the ones that blew out. I made it to Seattle and was in morning, rush hour traffic when I heard a grinding sound at the back. I look into my side mirror and watched the rear axle on the driver's side work its way out causing the tire to smoke terribly. Then, the axle and wheel shot backwards down the freeway and my truck came to a sliding stop in the middle of my lane on the freeway. My truck sitting in the middle of the lane was not appreciated. I had my truck towed to a junk yard. It wasn't worth repairing. I asked the junk yard if it had an old vehicle that I could buy. The junk yard had an old 1968 Dodge van with current license plates. They said it was street worthy, so I bought it. I loaded everything from my truck into the van and left. It didn't take long to find out that the van had significant issues. It kept overheating. The long and the short of it was that I had to replace the radiator. That in of itself was an ordeal and costly. When I got to the Rocky Mountains, there was another major mechanic problem. The engine wouldn't run the higher I got up into the Mountains. It kept losing power and would stall. The van's engine compartment sat inside the van between the driver and passenger's seat. I found that if I stuck my finger into the carburetor and held it open, the engine would operate properly. I had to use my finger to adjust the corroborator's air intake as I drove. That meant I had to leave the engine compartment’s cover open and drive with one hand. The noise, heat and stink was quite overwhelming but once I was over the Rockies, the engine went back to running normally. It took me every bit of three weeks to make the trip from Anchorage to Birmingham. At first, I was driving 12 hours a day, but by the time I arrived in Birmingham, I was driving 8 hours a day, and that was a bit much. In any case, I got an apartment, checked in with the school and basically settled in. The primary reason I chose Samford University was because I wanted to experience what it would be like to attend a religious school in the Deep South. I had read a lot about the South while on Marine Security Guard Duty. Then there were the 1960s, which need no explanation. My time in law school did not disappoint. The ensuing three years turned out to be an experience worthy of a degree in and of itself. It's hard to explain how my understanding of pretty much everything changed from what I thought I knew. In addition, in the three weeks that it took me to drive from Anchorage to Birmingham, I found that how people perceived me had changed. I went from being a “moderately conservative” fellow to a “flaming liberal.” I also grew horns and a spiky tail, so think the Devil incarnate. A secondary reason for attending Samford was the School’s dual MBA/JD Program. The MBA/JD Program was hugely challenging. There were semesters where I was carrying 18 semester credits. For three years, all I did was study. There were no summer breaks. There were others in the MBA/JD Program who had wives and kids. Some worked. Some clerked. My peers were some of the smartest people I had ever encountered. It's my opinion that my time in law school was a pivotal point in my life path, not that I gained anything intellectually speaking, or career wise, nor did I find religion. I was never interested in practicing law. Getting a law degree and an MBA was a personal challenge. I also thought that both would be beneficial in helping me get my CPA certification. My time in law school started my transition from a blue-collar to white collar background. By the time I entered law school, I had 16 years of work experience, and for the first time, I understood the difference in mentality between the white-collar crowd and the blue-collar, working man crowd. My first encounter with the white-collar world was while I was on Embassy Duty. I was perfectly comfortable. There were no issues. I never understood college until I was on Marine Security Guard Duty. There I lived and worked with people who had at least two years of college. Most had master's degrees or PhDs. Talking to those people on a daily basis for two and a half years, and seeing what they did, how they thought and how they lived showed me a side of life I had never known. Those people changed my understanding of life. They were the reason I eventually went to college. As my first year progressed, I sensed that my peers were comfortable with each other. There were those who had significant work experience, some came straight out of their undergraduate programs, some had other types of backgrounds. Pretty much, my peers’ collective experience was (in my view) what one would expect to find in a law school program. But for whatever reason, I felt different. Perhaps it was because I came from Alaska while the other students generally came from the Region. Perhaps it was because I specifically chose to experience attending a religious school in the Deep South. Still, I could feel something, a difference. The feeling wasn’t bad and didn’t bother me. It was just there. Then one day I was conversing with another student. We were getting to know each other. He asked me what my story was. So I told him. Basically, I said I had been in the Marine Corp and worked my way through undergrad as an electrician in Alaska. He said, I knew it! I knew there was something about you, or words to that effect. I realized then that he had sensed my blue-collar background. I don’t think it was news that I was from Alaska or had been in the military. What I could not understand was his response to me working as an electrician, but I knew that somehow that set me apart. I’d describe it as having a flavor that was different from the other students. I don’t believe the reflection was bad in any way, but I do believe I carried a label after that. I was in the beginning of my second year (1985) when I received the worst possible news. It came from the fellow I loaned my school funds to. He said he went bankrupt and could not pay back the money. I had received one payment and now I was broke. God! My thoughts swirled. I’d have to withdraw from school. I’d lose everything. Plus, I’d have to pay back the student loans that comprised the funds I lost. I couldn’t sleep. I had classes. Several days passed. The shock wore off, but the anxiety remained. I couldn’t concentrate in class or to study. I kept thinking about what to do. I had no answers. Finally, with a very heavy heart, I decided to ask the School’s Financial Aid Office it they had any ideas. Luckily, I did. The Financial Aid Office did what they do, asked me all kinds of questions. I learned for the first time that I was entitled to receive veterans benefits in the form of college tuition. I also learned that the Alaska student loan program was separated from the “regular” student loan program, so those funds didn’t effect obtaining student loans through the “regular” student loan program. I applied and was approved. The funds arrived in time to keep me in school. The only drawback was that I had no cushion, and I would owe a tremendous amount upon graduation. As graduation approached, I went through the recruitment process. I didn’t put my work experience as an electrician on my resume. I knew it would have a negative impact. I didn’t hide my blue-collar background. I just didn’t advertise it. I emphasized my white-collar attributes. I was never offered a job. By the end of law school, I knew I would not stay in the South. It held nothing for me. I was headed for California. I could have gone back to Alaska. At the time, Alaska would have forgiven my student loans, but I realized that I didn't want to be a fish of any size in a small pond, no matter where that pond was geographically located. So, I packed my van, put new tires on it, and left for San Francisco. My plan was to go to language school in San Fransico to learn Russian, after which I planned to look for work where I could use the language, like perhaps in the Foreign Service. As I approached the fork in the road where I had to choose either Los Angeles or San Francisco, reality took hold. I had so little money. I thought what were the chances of achieving my goal in San Francisco. My friend from law school called me before I left to say he was house sitting near Los Angeles. He invited me to stop by. My choice was simple, if not nauseating. Sleeping in my van in San Francisco or where my friend was house sitting. In San Francisco, I had nothing and no prospects. With my friend, I could at least start looking for work and had a place to stay. You might think a choice like that is easy, but it wasn't. Do I give up something I want, but it is very uncertain for something certain, but not what I want? Well for whatever it's worth, I chose sleeping in a bed over sleeping in my van. I chose the possibility of getting a job over no prospects. And so, I started looking for work in the Los Angeles area. As time passed, I acquired a more white-collar flavor. While my blue-collar experience slide into my past, my while-collar experiences grew. Eventually, my white-collar flavor overtook my blue-collar flavor, but the overall flavor was not white or blue. I never gave up my blue-collar background and I’m sure people sensed it. I am the entirety of my life experience, and I never wanted to deny one aspect of my life to benefit another.

University of Wisconsin - Superior

I was on Marine Security Guard Duty when I applied for college. I typed draft letters that I planned to send to colleges requesting admission. Since there were so many secretaries at the Embassy, I asked a couple of them to review my letters before I sent them. I knew the secretaries. They knew me. We attended parties together and talked many times. I even asked some out on dates. Well, I never got my letters back. Instead, they gave me letters to send that looked nothing like my letters. I mean nothing! That’s when I suspected I had a problem. The secretaries never said anything about my letters, my wording, my errors, or any discrepancies. They were very helpful and probably I got accepted because of their letters. My SAT score was pretty low. I realized much later that my letters were so poorly worded and written, with such poor grammar and bad sentence structure that it was easier for the secretaries to write a letter from scratch that encompassed what I intended than it was to correct the letters that I gave them to review.

So, why was my English so poor? The answer is simple. I refused to learn English grammar and penmanship. I was very successful in not learning English in grade school and high school. My English entrance exam for college was evidence of that. I could not write complex sentences. I definitely could not write a paragraph. My reading speed was at a 6th grade level, but my vocabulary was several years beyond the 12th grade. It is interesting that my reading speed was so low. I read a lot in the Marine Corps. Anyway, I paid the price in college for my stupidity. I eventually had to learn to read and write at a college level. It was a grueling task to raise my literacy level, and very embarrassing since my teachers where so dismayed at my lack of ability.

I was 22-23 years old and had 14 years of work experience when I started college. I attended the University of Wisconsin - Superior from the Fall of 1979 through October 17, 1980, when I withdrew. During that time, I studied German as I had learned basic spoken German while escorting the cleaning crew through the Embassy in Germany. In order to understand German grammar, I had to study English grammar as I didn't know either. In both cases, I used grammar books in English for non-English and non-German speakers. I also took Freshman English. I used many English tutors, including my girlfriend, who was an English major. I took every class that I could where a paper was required.

My girlfriend corrected my spoken and written English. I rewrote my work many times before it passed her inspection. She also worked at teaching me how to speak English correctly. That meant correcting my spoken English when I misused grammar. Her parent's reprimanded her for correcting my English in public. The fact was, I told my girlfriend to correct my spoken and written English whenever I didn't use it properly whether in public or not. We worked together for a year. Correcting my spoken English was harder for me than correcting my written English. I have her to thank for helping me write and speak as an intelligent human being.

During my time in Superior, I took Governments of Western Europe and the Russian Seminar. Both were political science classes taught by Dr. Kenney. He wanted me to participate in the Model UN Program. I would have, but I had no extra time. I was carrying 16-18 credits on a quarters system. I had a full-time girlfriend, and I was working part-time.

The highlight of my time in Superior, other than my girlfriend, was the Russian Seminar. It was a six-credit course and included Saturday classes. Dr. Kenney lectured on the history of the early nomadic tribes which later evolved into the fifteen Republics of the Soviet Union. We had to read a pre-revolution history book, a post-revolution history book and The Russians, a contemporary non-fiction work about life inside the Soviet Union. We also had to learn to speak various Russian phrases. Once the course work was completed, students from across the entire University of Wisconsin system went to the Soviet Union for two weeks. After the trip, we had to submit a paper. My Soviet Seminar Paper is attached as a PDF document.

Soviet Seminar
Probably the Promethean

Soviet Seminar
April 17, 1980
Promethean

By October 1980, I had burned-out. My class load was too heavy. I was putting in too many hours working, and my girlfriend had received a Fulbright Scholarship to study Norwegian in Norway. She was a very bright girl. She frequently told me that I was slow. It always made me smile when she said it. She really was very smart. She was pursuing three separate degrees. If memory serves, they were English, Drama and Speech. Comparatively speaking, I was slow, or put differently, she was definitely smarter than me.

In the beginning of October 1980, my brother contacted me and asked if I was interested in coming to Alaska to work in the trades. It was right at that time that I burned-out. I was so brain dead that my grades dropped from As to Fs. Also, my girlfriend had left for Norway. There was no reason to stay in school, so I withdrew so my failing grades would not be recorded. I packed everything I owned in my pickup and left for Alaska.

It took me three weeks to drive to Anchorage Alaska. The drive itself was worth withdrawing from school. It was stunningly beautiful. I entered Canada by way of Fargo North Dakota and drove across Canada to Whitehorse in Canada's Yukon Territory. I continued up into Alaska and finally down to Anchorage. The drive to Anchorage was one of the best experiences of my life.

I started work as an electrician's apprentice in early December 1980. [link]. As a starting apprentice, I didn't have to think. Basically I was a laborer and that was fine with me. My brain was so tired that I didn’t want to think, not even about the smallest matters, but as the months passed, so did my burn-out. I began to ask questions, and I studied the wiring systems being installed. The installation seemed simple enough, so one day, I asked the journeyman if I could pull some wire. I said it didn't look all that difficult. My gosh! Was that fellow insulted! I didn't pull wire that day, but that's the day I became an electrician. By November 1981, I had logged 1,947 hours in the trade. To keep track of my hours, I carried a notebook and logged every job I worked on, the job site address, and how many hours I worked. Eventually, I logged enough hours to sit for Alaska's electrician's licensing exam.

University of Alaska - Anchorage

As my burn-out waned, I started thinking about going back to school. I had completed a year and didn't wanna give up my original plan. So, when the time came, I applied for admission to and was admitted by the University of Alaska - Anchorage on January 12, 1981.

I started the Spring semester with the minimum number of credits to be considered a full-time student. I also continued wiring residential and light commercial while I went to school. My work hours were flexible enough. I just had to get the job done, so I'd start wiring at first light, took off my tool belt to attend class. When class was over, I went back to my job site.

I carried a full semester class load, 12-15 credits, but never more than that. I also kept my electrical work in balance with my schoolwork. Basically, that was my work routine until my last year in my undergraduate program. I was getting a double major, so my pace and the extra classes added to the length of time it took to graduate. I had no intention of getting burn-out, ever again. I substantially reduced my electrical work during my last year to compensate for the more difficult classes I was taking.

By the end of the 1981 Fall semester, I could see my graduation date on the horizon. I liked working as an electrician. I was planning, or at least thinking, about how I could use my degree to start an electrical contracting firm. I could see the money being made in the trades and wanted part of it. I was also thinking about working as an accountant as that was my major along with finance. Working toward getting my CPA certification was realistic. I wanted to be a tax accountant. Another career route that interested me, or certainly intrigued me, was going to law school. It seemed that everyone who was anybody was an attorney, and they seemed to be everywhere doing everything except practicing law.

I started looking into how and what it would take to go to law school. I didn't tell anyone I was thinking of this, mostly because the thought scared me. I could barely admit to myself that I was thing of it. It was like I was peeking into a place I wasn't allowed to look at or enter. Finally, as the realization grew that I could go to law school, I mentioned my thoughts to a trusted confidant in a hypothetical context. He laughed and told me that I didn't have the money or the smarts. That was the end of me mentioning my thoughts to anyone.

One day, while eating lunch in the school cafeteria, I was approached by a grad student who was looking for a candidate she could give a personality and intelligence test as part of her master’s program. She was a very attractive girl, so I thought, if the test business works out, we might go dancing or something. It turned out that the girl was very easy to talk to, and since I really wanted to see if I was a rock, I took the tests quite seriously. After they were over, she explained the results, which I never understood.

The intelligence test showed that I wasn’t a rock. When I asked what she thought of me attending law school, to my utter shock, her reaction was so positive that I was skeptical. But during our ensuing conversation, her attitude and rationale were so organic that I didn't think she was fabricating some sort of response that she thought I wanted to hear. To put it bluntly, she didn’t think I was crazy for thinking that I could go to law school. She thought I was smart enough and encouraged me to apply. She did, however, concede there would be a money issue. We never did go out, and after taking the tests and our conversation regarding law school, I never saw her again.

By the time I graduated in the Spring of 1984, I had decided not to pursue a career as an electrician. I also decided, for the time being, not to pursue my CPA certification. I applied to various law schools. I was accepted for entrance on August 28, 1984, but I decided I would apply for a job with the FBI. I wanted to chase organized crime money. I had my initial interview in Anchorage. I took the FBI's tests. I passed the accounting test. I passed all their other tests, expect for their English test, which didn't surprise me. The agent told me I could come back and take it again. Then I asked whether I would have to carry a weapon. The agent looked at me like I was crazy! His look carried a heavy disdain for my question. "Of course!" he said. I told him I didn't want the job if I had to carry a weapon. I think my reply almost caused his head to explode.

I never went back to take the English test. That test never made sense to me. I graduated from college. Why the H* did I need to pass an English test or even take one! It was bizarre, laughable even. I never again had any interest in any law enforcement position. I spent the summer wiring, saving as much money as possible, and preparing to leave for law school.

I had prepared a budget for law school. I didn’t have the entire amount, but I had enough to pretty much fund my entire three years. Some of those funds came from student loans, while the rest came from working. At the time, I was working for a fellow who I had worked for regularly over my time in Alaska. He knew I was going to law school. We were talking about his plans for his contracting firm. He said he needed some capital and had maxed out his credit cards. I said I could loan him some money as I didn’t need it all at one time. He said he didn’t wanna borrow the money I had saved for law school. I won’t say I insisted, but I did encourage him to use the money. Besides, the interest would help fund my program. We finally agreed on a payment plan with a lower interest rate than he had to pay on his credit cards and higher than I was getting at the bank. The payment plan synchronized with my law school program, so I was good.

Working in Alaska was very interesting. I never made it out to the Bush or up to the North Slope. Having been on Embassy Duty, I knew what life would be like in isolated locations, albeit, different in Alaska than at listening post in the Sinai Desert, but a remote location is the same wherever it exists. Most of my work in the trade was in and around Anchorage. I also traveled to Valdez and Seward Alaska for work.

What I remember most from my time in Alaska is its natural beauty and the people I met. The people were the most interesting. I met non-indigenous people who lived in Alaska long before the pipeline. I had friends who were Aleut and Eskimo. They were unique relative to everyone I had encounter up to that point in time. I spent hours talking to them and listening to their life stories. I came away from those encounters thinking how different their lives were compared to mine. The impact on my thought process is hard to describe, but to use Dr. Kenny's words, When I left Alaska in 1984, I wasn't the same person who had arrive in November 1980. My attitudes had changed in many respects. I had clearly been broadened and enriched.

Cumberland School of Law
Samford University
Birmingham Alabama

I budgeted six weeks to make the trip from Anchorage to Birmingham and to find a place in Birmingham before school started in the Fall. I took the Cassiar Highway through Canada. The drive was stunningly spectacular. I drove my old pickup. Frankly, in hindsight, I should have thrashed everything and flown. It would’ve been more cost effective, but I wanted to drive. Besides, I wanted all my stuff and didn't wanna pay to ship it. I also didn’t wanna have to buy new stuff.

My truck burned a lot of oil and leak even more out of the rear main. I brought along several cases of oil, but oil turned out not to be an issue. Tires were the issue. My tires were basically worn out and the gravel road, in addition to the weight the truck was carrying, caused my tires to blow out. You'd think that would not be a problem. I was carrying old spares, but they blew out too. Still, you wouldn't think that would be a problem, but in the wilderness, even a small issue can be a huge problem. It took some time, but I finally found replacement tires. They were used and only slightly better than the ones that blew out.

I made it to Seattle and was in morning, rush hour traffic when I heard a grinding sound at the back. I look into my side mirror and watched the rear axle on the driver's side work its way out causing the tire to smoke terribly. Then, the axle and wheel shot backwards down the freeway and my truck came to a sliding stop in the middle of my lane on the freeway. My truck sitting in the middle of the lane was not appreciated.

I had my truck towed to a junk yard. It wasn't worth repairing. I asked the junk yard if it had an old vehicle that I could buy. The junk yard had an old 1968 Dodge van with current license plates. They said it was street worthy, so I bought it. I loaded everything from my truck into the van and left. It didn't take long to find out that the van had significant issues. It kept overheating. The long and the short of it was that I had to replace the radiator. That in of itself was an ordeal and costly.

When I got to the Rocky Mountains, there was another major mechanic problem. The engine wouldn't run the higher I got up into the Mountains. It kept losing power and would stall. The van's engine compartment sat inside the van between the driver and passenger's seat. I found that if I stuck my finger into the carburetor and held it open, the engine would operate properly. I had to use my finger to adjust the corroborator's air intake as I drove. That meant I had to leave the engine compartment’s cover open and drive with one hand. The noise, heat and stink was quite overwhelming but once I was over the Rockies, the engine went back to running normally.

It took me every bit of three weeks to make the trip from Anchorage to Birmingham. At first, I was driving 12 hours a day, but by the time I arrived in Birmingham, I was driving 8 hours a day, and that was a bit much. In any case, I got an apartment, checked in with the school and basically settled in.

The primary reason I chose Samford University was because I wanted to experience what it would be like to attend a religious school in the Deep South. I had read a lot about the South while on Marine Security Guard Duty. Then there were the 1960s, which need no explanation.

My time in law school did not disappoint. The ensuing three years turned out to be an experience worthy of a degree in and of itself. It's hard to explain how my understanding of pretty much everything changed from what I thought I knew. In addition, in the three weeks that it took me to drive from Anchorage to Birmingham, I found that how people perceived me had changed. I went from being a “moderately conservative” fellow to a “flaming liberal.” I also grew horns and a spiky tail, so think the Devil incarnate.

A secondary reason for attending Samford was the School’s dual MBA/JD Program. The MBA/JD Program was hugely challenging. There were semesters where I was carrying 18 semester credits. For three years, all I did was study. There were no summer breaks. There were others in the MBA/JD Program who had wives and kids. Some worked. Some clerked. My peers were some of the smartest people I had ever encountered.

It's my opinion that my time in law school was a pivotal point in my life path, not that I gained anything intellectually speaking, or career wise, nor did I find religion. I was never interested in practicing law. Getting a law degree and an MBA was a personal challenge. I also thought that both would be beneficial in helping me get my CPA certification.

My time in law school started my transition from a blue-collar to white collar background. By the time I entered law school, I had 16 years of work experience, and for the first time, I understood the difference in mentality between the white-collar crowd and the blue-collar, working man crowd. My first encounter with the white-collar world was while I was on Embassy Duty. I was perfectly comfortable. There were no issues.

I never understood college until I was on Marine Security Guard Duty. There I lived and worked with people who had at least two years of college. Most had master's degrees or PhDs. Talking to those people on a daily basis for two and a half years, and seeing what they did, how they thought and how they lived showed me a side of life I had never known. Those people changed my understanding of life. They were the reason I eventually went to college.

As my first year progressed, I sensed that my peers were comfortable with each other. There were those who had significant work experience, some came straight out of their undergraduate programs, some had other types of backgrounds. Pretty much, my peers’ collective experience was (in my view) what one would expect to find in a law school program. But for whatever reason, I felt different. Perhaps it was because I came from Alaska while the other students generally came from the Region. Perhaps it was because I specifically chose to experience attending a religious school in the Deep South. Still, I could feel something, a difference. The feeling wasn’t bad and didn’t bother me. It was just there.

Then one day I was conversing with another student. We were getting to know each other. He asked me what my story was. So I told him. Basically, I said I had been in the Marine Corp and worked my way through undergrad as an electrician in Alaska. He said, I knew it! I knew there was something about you, or words to that effect. I realized then that he had sensed my blue-collar background. I don’t think it was news that I was from Alaska or had been in the military. What I could not understand was his response to me working as an electrician, but I knew that somehow that set me apart. I’d describe it as having a flavor that was different from the other students. I don’t believe the reflection was bad in any way, but I do believe I carried a label after that.

I was in the beginning of my second year (1985) when I received the worst possible news. It came from the fellow I loaned my school funds to. He said he went bankrupt and could not pay back the money. I had received one payment and now I was broke. God! My thoughts swirled. I’d have to withdraw from school. I’d lose everything. Plus, I’d have to pay back the student loans that comprised the funds I lost. I couldn’t sleep. I had classes.

Several days passed. The shock wore off, but the anxiety remained. I couldn’t concentrate in class or to study. I kept thinking about what to do. I had no answers. Finally, with a very heavy heart, I decided to ask the School’s Financial Aid Office it they had any ideas. Luckily, I did.

The Financial Aid Office did what they do, asked me all kinds of questions. I learned for the first time that I was entitled to receive veterans benefits in the form of college tuition. I also learned that the Alaska student loan program was separated from the “regular” student loan program, so those funds didn’t effect obtaining student loans through the “regular” student loan program. I applied and was approved. The funds arrived in time to keep me in school. The only drawback was that I had no cushion, and I would owe a tremendous amount upon graduation.

As graduation approached, I went through the recruitment process. I didn’t put my work experience as an electrician on my resume. I knew it would have a negative impact. I didn’t hide my blue-collar background. I just didn’t advertise it. I emphasized my white-collar attributes. I was never offered a job.

By the end of law school, I knew I would not stay in the South. It held nothing for me. I was headed for California. I could have gone back to Alaska. At the time, Alaska would have forgiven my student loans, but I realized that I didn't want to be a fish of any size in a small pond, no matter where that pond was geographically located. So, I packed my van, put new tires on it, and left for San Francisco.

My plan was to go to language school in San Fransico to learn Russian, after which I planned to look for work where I could use the language, like perhaps in the Foreign Service. As I approached the fork in the road where I had to choose either Los Angeles or San Francisco, reality took hold. I had so little money. I thought what were the chances of achieving my goal in San Francisco. My friend from law school called me before I left to say he was house sitting near Los Angeles. He invited me to stop by. My choice was simple, if not nauseating. Sleeping in my van in San Francisco or where my friend was house sitting. In San Francisco, I had nothing and no prospects. With my friend, I could at least start looking for work and had a place to stay. You might think a choice like that is easy, but it wasn't. Do I give up something I want, but it is very uncertain for something certain, but not what I want? Well for whatever it's worth, I chose sleeping in a bed over sleeping in my van. I chose the possibility of getting a job over no prospects. And so, I started looking for work in the Los Angeles area. As time passed, I acquired a more white-collar flavor. While my blue-collar experience slide into my past, my while-collar experiences grew. Eventually, my white-collar flavor overtook my blue-collar flavor, but the overall flavor was not white or blue. I never gave up my blue-collar background and I’m sure people sensed it. I am the entirety of my life experience, and I never wanted to deny one aspect of my life to benefit another.