On my South Gwinnett High School Letter Jacket, the left side contains Nine Medals. What the medals represented in my school during my time there was that you were the best student in a particular subject. For example, anyone who truly knows me knows that Math was my favorite subject... and three of the Medals were for being the top student in Algebra II (Sophomore Year), Trigonometry (Junior Year), an AP Calculus AB (Senior Year).
Social Studies was considered a great equalizer at my school. As a Freshman, you were required to take a semester of Civics (World Geography was the other class you took for a semester, but it was not considered Social Studies). As a Sophomore, you took World History for a full year and Economics for a Semester. As a Junior, you took US History for a full year. There was a Senior year course as well, but it was considered an elective. There were also AP Courses for World and US History. So, only a handful of members of the Class of 1992 would have been awarded Medals in Social Studies... you could probably count the number of Social Studies medal winners in my class on two hands, maybe even one. I won two medals... one for top AP World History student, and one for top US History student. I only know of one other member in my class to win two Social Studies medals... unironically, it was our Class Salutatorian, Kim (Julian) Bowden (she was the top World History Student and Top AP US History student).
History to me is so important. For one to understand how we got to the present, it is important to understand the road(s) we came from. Our roots (whether National or personal) are a part of who we truly are. Since the pandemic began in 2020, I have yearned to return back to my roots... to return to the places I have lived. I seem to gain a sense of new energy when I tap into my roots and REMEMBER who I was in those places.
Before I moved to Maryland in 1996, I lived in three places... Decatur, Georgia; Snellville, Georgia; and Valparaiso, Indiana where I attended College. The easiest place to return to was Snellville. My parents (until their passings in 2022 and 2023) lived in the same house since we had moved to that "little town where life is a thrill" back in 1979. So, I could walk into my old room, walk around the street, and remember who I was as a kid. My parents hated the idea of me driving back to my original home in Decatur... it was too dangerous, they said. But in 2021, I drove back to the original house with my family and showed them where I lived as a small child. A flood of memories came back to me as I showed them the house. The house has changed over the years; for example, the screened-in back porch is now gone (given what I know about house infrastructure these days... good riddance to that back porch).
Remembering the past also forced me to do something else. I felt in some cases that I needed to address some things I did wrong. I made mistakes and misjudgments in my younger years, and on one such trip, I went to visit a friend who I felt I had treated unfairly in High School. It turned out to be a most necessary trip as that friend gave me some pretty sound advice. While the advice focused on the women from my past helping me prepare for Liz's arrival into my life in 2004, it was a microcosm to a much larger point: every place I had lived in and every friend I had known helped shape me into the person I am right now.
For a while, I had not been given much of an opportunity to revisit my college home or see my Best Friend in Chicago. But with my Best Friend turning 50, I had an excuse. So I pinged his wife about planning a surprise visit. I was informed that he wanted to play his 50th birthday as low key (bummer); however, his son was getting awarded status as being an Eagle Scout and I was invited. Yep, I was heading back to Chicago.
With Valparaiso University being such a short (yet, painfully slow) drive from Chicago, I realized that I had to return "home" and visit. Valparaiso University wasn't just my College Home... my Dad and one of my sisters also attended the Alma Mater. Visiting Valpo also meant giving a donation in memory of my father.
So I went to Valpo immediately after arriving in Chicago on Friday afternoon. While it was tempting to just walk immediately to Kretzmann Hall and drop off the donation where I thought I was supposed to go, I was aware that things probably no longer worked that way. So, I stopped off at the new Visitors Center and asked for help. After a short wait that felt like forever, the donation was delivered into the right hands.
Walking around a nearly empty campus that was still over a week away from Student Arrivals/Returns was an incredible feeling. I could go walk into any building I wanted to. I was unimpeded for the most part, and that freedom left me with a feeling like I was a kid in a Candy Store with unlimited money to spend. Knowing the responsibility I had to "clean up after myself", I only went into certain buildings. I avoided the Dorm Rooms I lived in: Wehrenberg, Brandt, and Alumni. I did briefly visit with the Dean of the College of Engineering (he was a classmate of my brother-in-law).
After the initial walk around the East Side of Campus, I came to its heart... the Chapel of the Resurrection. I quickly realized I was all alone (there was staff in the adjacent Helge Center, but the Chapel itself was empty). The Church was in shape as it was readied for a new School Year. Here was my chance to see the Chapel in its perfect form... and I took advantage, snapping pictures that you could put in a brochure. Then I started up to the Altar to pray. But I stopped after taking just a couple of steps up. I realized I did not need to go right up to the Altar. So I turned around and sat in one of the rows of chairs and, for a little while, absorbed the surroundings before I said a prayer for my family. It felt right.
After my Chapel visit, I moved onto the new Student Union, known as Harre Hall. Dr. Al Harre was President of Valparaiso University during my time at the school. He began the modern transformation of the university to a more pedestrian-friendly campus. Using the chapel as the centerpiece, new facilities such as the center for arts, a new library, and a new student union were built during his tenure. The new Student Union is different from its predecessor. Certain things are gone, but the ability to eat, stretch out, relax, and even study in its confines is something I appreciate in my current age. The Bookstore & Gift Shop is a huge upgrade and I had to buy some merchandise for the family.
After spending time in Harre Hall, a quick stop at the University library and Mueller Hall followed. In Mueller Hall, I found something that I was looking for... the bust of OP Kretzmann. Of course, I had to rub his nose for good luck. Finally, I went to the western part of campus… To places that once were there in my time, but now are gone. I also swung by my fraternity house… But unfortunately, no one was home. Still, it was good to take in the entire University experience once again after a 17 year absence.
My time with my university roots was not completely done, however. I then headed to the Western suburbs of Chicago to spend the weekend with my college roommate of two years and best friend. Though it felt like I was going from one place to another throughout the weekend, I never felt rushed. It was good to play golf with my friend again, to hear his wife preach on Sunday morning, and to witness his son being awarded the title of Eagle Scout. Even though my best friend and I don’t always see eye to eye on things, we will always be brothers.
As I left Chicago to fly back to Baltimore, I felt a new sense of energy flowing through me. Reconnecting with my college roots was the best thing that could happen.
Some people say that they would like to forget about the past, and others say that the past is not as important as the future. And sometimes we forget that, in glamorizing our roots, the places of our childhood and college years held many dark secrets. Decatur was in a state of flux when I was born, so I never knew its dark secrets. But I know the dark secrets of Snellville and Valparaiso. That said, I will always love those places, and I am glad to see they are in better mental states than what they once were.
While there is truth in the fact that “You can’t go home again”, the past is often times the road leading to your future. I know for some people that the past is a reminder of moments of pain & failure. But in my past failures, I see lessons to learn in order to help me become a better person. I choose to face my past and accept it. It has help mold me into the person that I am… Both my good moments and bad moments.
Reconnecting with my roots helps remind me of the friends who have helped me along the way. This trip helped renew my spirit, and going forward. I will need all the energy I can muster to face the days ahead.
