Stephen Harper

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I have tried to highlight various facets of my life. Particular attention has been directed to my early years because they were the formative years for many of the things that happened throughout my life. Please forgive me for writing in the first person., but It is a lot easier than writing in the third person. Also, I encourage you to check out my brothers’ (Mike and David) sites, my sister Diane Harper Hands’ site, and the profile of my parents on the Harvey Mitchell “Mitch” Harper’s site for a profile of my early years.

Early Life

Written by Steve Harper

I lived at 1230 Broadmeadow Road in Winnetka for the first three or four years of my life.

Life in Northfield - My Elementary School Years

Yet I spent most of the early years of my youth at 2300 Clover Lane in Northfield Illinois.

Life on Clover Lane was full of family and neighborhood activities ranging from playing various outdoor games. It also involved getting Good Humor ice cream treats from Bud the Good Humor man who let all the kids in the neighborhood know he was coming by ringing his truck’s bell. The picture of the house on Clover Lane shows the size of the trees in the front yard. One of the fun experiences in my early years involved the trees. Dad connected the two trees with a rope with a pulley. We had a great time going from one tree to the next. The large lot provided a lot of room for various activities. In a way it was like a playground. We played softball and football in the front yard. We also played a game called “spud” where a big and soft rubber ball is thrown up and someone’s number is called, that person then catches the ball and yells spud which requires all the other players to “freeze” where they are. The person with the ball then can take three steps in an effort to hit one of the others with the ball. Another fun activity involved having the lawnmower create a maze that kids had to stay on to catch others. The lawnmower was actually a small orange tractor. David particularly enjoyed driving the tractor - even up and down Clover Lane. That was a thrill - especially for a boy who was no older than seven or eight years old. The side and back yard has a lot of fruit trees - plums and pears - that were thrown at other kids - even those in the family.

Mom and dad did a major transformation of the house in the latter 1950s. It included enclosing the garage that was part of the house on the back side of the house. The garage space was transformed into a family room which included an informal eating area and TV area as well as a guest room with a bathroom. A three-car garage was then built separate from the house. The third bay provided space for storing various things and as will be noted in a later profile it was where a sailboat was built from a kit. The additional space also gave dad the opportunity to buy and store various things. One of the things was Royal Norseman - which was like a go cart. Even though it did not go that fast, it was great for Mike and me to race up and down Clover Lane. One of the neatest things about the new garage was that dad had a playhouse beside it for us. It was like most playhouses except it had a flat roof with a railing. so we could stand and play on the roof. Dad liked to buy antique things. There always seemed to be an old car around the driveway - like an old Ford convertible that had to be started with a crank. Even though none of the kids were old enough to drive it, dad did buy something all of us boys found irresistible. It was a water-cooled machine gun (that was not operational) that had a really wide barrel and a wooden stock. We used to get on top of the playhouse and pretend with it.

One of my favorite things was going to Camp I-Cog-O-Wan in Wisconsin where I had a chance to participate in many sports like capture the flag, tether ball, canoeing, water skiing, shooting, sailing, swimming, archery, as well as doing various arts and crafts on rainy days. I spent two summers at Camp I-Cog-O-Wan when I was ten and eleven. There were only three drawbacks to being at camp. First, the bathroom facility was a fair distance from his cabin so having to “run through the dark” was memorable. Second, having to rake the dirt outside the cabin seemed pointless. Yet having the discipline to do various tasks paid off when I learned how to make my bed - in a military fashion.

Third, and most memorable, was having to watch out for leeches (a.k.a. bloodsuckers) in the lake’s swimming area. The presence of leeches led to the campers scooping them up with canoe paddles and placing them in the sun on top of the overturned canoes on the canoe racks. Within a short period, the leeches would curl up and die! The campers also found that adding a little salt accelerated that process! Steve went to Boy Scout camp in Wisconsin the summer after the summers at I-Cog-O-Wan . The freedom Steve enjoyed at I-Cog-O-Wan was not matched by Boy Scout Camp. The Boy Scout Camp’s regimentation seemed too regimented and constraining.

Mike and I found out there was a drawback with us being at camp. Mom and dad hired a “summer girl” for each of those summers to look after David and Diane. Mike and I were at a very impressionable age so when we saw Judy who was the summer girl and Charlotte who was the summer girl for the second summer girl, they got our attention! The summer girls were teenagers, so they were really cute and cool. Mike and I watched “Shock Theater” almost every Saturday night in our last years living on Clover Lane. Shock Theater had that name because it showed scary movies like Frankenstein, Dracula, the Mummy and the Wolf man. Watching these shows played a role in an incident that occurred one night. Soon after Mike and I went to sleep, I heard a crashing sound downstairs. We had a sitter because Mom and dad were out and the sitter was asleep so I decided to go downstairs to find out what made the loud noise. I was “shocked” to see a man lying on the floor of the family room in a pile of blood and broken glass! It turns out he and his wife were having an argument in their car on the road in front of our house. He got out and ran around the back of our house where he inadvertently ran through a large plate glass window. Someone called the police and he received medical attention. A few days later, he and his wife came by and gave us some candy to show us he was not a ghoul!

On another occasion which I still do not fully understand, mom and dad allowed a very young woman (maybe around 20) who was pregnant and single to stay at our house in the guest room downstairs until she delivered the baby - probably put up for adoption. Again, mom and dad were out of town. Late one night when I was trying to sleep, I noticed a car come in the driveway with its lights off. I suspect it was the young woman’s boyfriend coming by to see her. Mom and dad did not travel that much, but as noted, they always seemed to hire “interesting” sitters. Mom was very concerned about one female sitter. Mom was worried the sitter would kidnap Diane when Diane was a toddler. It appeared that sitters were our nemesis. We had a sitter when we were in Northfield that we thought was a Nazi. She would not let us watch TV. Years later when we lived on Sheridan Road, mom and dad traveled to Europe while Mike and I were in high school. They hired a woman who made Mike and me come home directly from high school. This was particularly constraining for Mike because he could drive. It seemed like mom and dad were gone for months and that we were in a Nazi prison.

My life in Northfield involved riding my bike to friends’ houses and meeting Butch Honaker who would become my best friend and serve as my best man at my wedding. In some respects, going to Sunset Ridge School from kindergarten through eighth grade was like Little House on the Prairie. Life revolved around family, the neighborhood and Sunset Ridge School. It also involved visits to Grandfather Coale’s house in Winnetka for great food. The great food was particularly the case at the annual Thanksgiving meal. The extended family played casual touch football in the yard to increase their appetites prior to the meal. The adults sat at the large table in the dining room and the kids were relegated to eat at the card table the living room and other tables in the house. A few of the kids (who will remain anonymous) were known to eat so much food that they would excuse themselves from the table to throw up in the hall bathroom … and then return to the buffet to load their plates with more food so their parents would think they were very appreciative of such a family tradition. Actually, their consuming so much food was not their fault. Gertrude, the cook, was a great cook. There was another tradition at Grandfather Coale’s house that involved Mike and me. Before starting our trip west to college. We would have breakfast with Grandfather Coale that included brains and eggs before driving to New Mexico and Arizona!

In the “pets” department, we had many pets while growing up. The pets included ducks, dogs, cats, freshwater and saltwater fish, an alligator (briefly), and Ralph the talking Myna Bird which lived in a cage in the eating room off the kitchen in Winnetka. Dogs, however, were the most cherished.

In the “vacations” department, we “warmed up” in Sea Island in spring, 1961 (which introduced me to the real South and may have affected my interest in eventually moving to North Carolina. We went to Palm Beach for a few spring vacations at Grandfather and Grandmother Harper’s house on Lake Worth. Their house was a very short walk to the beach. The best thing about that house was that they kept their yacht “The MarMike” there. It was designed for Grandfather Harper so it could sleep about six people and you could troll for fish off the stern in the Golf Stream. My freshman and senior year of high school’s spring breaks in high school were spent on the MarMike fishing in the Florida Keys. I caught a 35 pound Mahi in my senior year.

Grandfather and Grandmother Harper provided an additional component to our vacations when they bought a small house on Duck Island (it wasn’t much of an island) in Lake Geneva, Wisconsin. The house was great for water skiing. In the winter, it was a great base for Uncle Kenny to introduce me to ice boating. The fact that an iceboat can go at three times the speed of the wind made it quite thrilling.

I have very fond memories of the nine years (kindergarten through eighth grade) I spent at Sunset Ridge Elementary School in Northfield. One of the things that made Sunset Ridge different from most schools at that time was that it had a lot of male teachers. For example, in addition to the principal, my math teacher, science teacher, English teacher, art teacher and music teacher were men when I was in eighth grade. We did, however, have an attractive female physical education teacher. A lot of my early years revolved around sports (football, basketball, and baseball) at Sunset Ridge School where Mr. Clarkson served as an incredible coach. He also drove the school bus to games, taught art and even called square dance. I have an almost unlimited set of memories of “Mr. C”s impact. Two memories stand out the most. In my eighth grade, Sunset Ridge played football against many schools, but Skokie School in Winnetka was so much larger (in students and the size of students) any school playing it was divided into teams of four different weight classes: Bantam (under 90 pounds), Light (Under 115 pounds), Medium (under 135 pounds), and Heavy (at least 135 pounds).

At the time, I was 89 pounds and only five feet tall. I was the quarterback in the Bantam game and running back in the light weight (scoring four touchdowns) and middle weight games. On the Monday before the heavy weight game, which was the last game of the season, I did not even go to practice. When Mr. C asked me why I missed practice, I noted that I didn’t think I would be playing due to the size difference. After all, if an eighth grader at Skokie weighed more than 150 pounds - which there were many - he could not be in the backfield, but he could be in the offensive line or an end. Mr. “C” told me I needed to come to practice because I was “starting.” That game turned out to be my last tackle football game. Having to guard - as Sunset Ridge’s safety - Bill Demmon was a formidable challenge. He was 170 pounds and 6 feet tall. That proved to be a disaster and a reminder for me to redirect my attention to other sports.

The other major memory of Mr. C was also in the fall of 1960 when I was in eighth grade. Mr. C was such a sports fan that he brought a radio to his ceramics class so he and the students could hear the Pittsburgh Pirates play and surprisingly beat the New York Yankees in the World Series. Mr. “C” influenced so many kids in their formative years and impressed so many of their parents that one of the parks in Northfield that includes a wonderful building was named for him. Looking back, I consider Mr. Clarkson to be just behind my father in terms of the men in my life who influenced my confidence and personal development.

My High School Years

In the middle of eighth grade my family moved to what became known as “The Sheridan Road House” on the bluff of Lake Michigan at 429 Sheridan Road in Winnetka. It served as my “base camp” for high school and most of my college years.

The Sheridan Road house was incredible. It had three stories not counting the basement with six bedrooms and a large game room on the third floor. Being on the shore of Lake Michigan provided all sorts of activities - even though the water temperature rarely went above seventy degrees! It also was where numerous “East-West Matches” took place for the summers during Mike and Steve’s college years. You will have to ask Mike, David, Diane or me about the matches!

My dad loved boats. At one time while in high school we had five boats - the Sailfish sailboat (picture at left) dad, Mike and I built from a kit in the garage while in Northfield, a catamaran sailboat called the Catfish (a stupid name) - which had a terrible design that prompted it to catch one or both of its hulls and catapult its riders into the water. We also had two utility racing boats which really weren’t very fast, and a boat for water skiing. Mike, David, I and our friends spent many days over many summers water skiing right off the beach at the Sheridan Road house. To avoid being bored doing the same thing every day, we tried banana skis that allowed us to turn around and ski backwards. We tried shoe skis (just a little longer than one’s feet) that had to be started while being dragged on a water saucer. We even put a chair on the water saucer for a change and some laughs. We even tried to ski barefoot, but it was clear our boat was not fast enough. As noted earlier, Lake Michigan’s water temperature usually was chilly. It did not take long for Mike, David and me to learn how to start on a slalom ski in less than 20 inches of water depth right off the beach and to end our ski runs by skiing right to the beach.

When my dad finally got a boat slip at Wilmette Harbor after waiting many years, he bought a faster and fancier inboard/outboard boat. Until then, the family had to improvise how to launch boats from the Sheridan Road house. With the old boat mentioned below, it involved storing the boat on the bulkhead at the base of the bluff and using a hoist to raise and lower it. We then used inflated rollers to get the boat across the beach to get it in and out of the water. When my father upgraded to a 16-foot boat, he secured a system that looked like a set of railroad tracks that went from the bulkhead into the lake where the boat could be launched and retrieved. Putting the boat back on the railway was a real challenge when the lake was choppy. Unfortunately, the system had to be taken up during the winter months. Yet each of the approaches reflected my dad’s resourcefulness to find the best way to get the job done. - whatever the job was!

There is a funny story about my dad when it came to having boats at the Sheridan Road house. Supposedly, my mother had my father agree there would not be any boats for the first summer. One afternoon in the first summer, my father pulled into the driveway trailing an old and much used 14-foot wooden boat with a 35 horse Evinrude motor. My mom exclaimed, “Mitchell, we agreed there would not be a boat for the first summer!” He responded, “Ellen, this really isn’t a boat.”

Well, he was right, it wasn’t much of a boat … but it was the beginning of what would be newer, faster, and bigger boats. It is ironic that I cannot remember any time when dad water skied while living at Sheridan Road. Another example of my father’s insatiable desire to have boats occurred one or two springs after he brought home that first motorboat. Dad called the family together for a family meeting. He told the family that it had been a challenging year financially and that the family (primarily the kids) had to choose between going to Florida for spring break or getting a new boat to replace the “old”” boat. This was an easy decision for the kids because we knew if we should choose Florida, dad would honor our decision …. and that dad could not help himself … he would also buy the new boat … which he did! By the way, the new boat had a 75 horsepower Johnson motor which seemed like a monster compared to the Evinrude 35 horsepower motor.

The new motor added about 10 miles per hour speed which helped all the skiers - especially the bigger skiers. Ironically, I cannot remember dad ever water skiing. When I brought that up with Mike recently, he noted dad asked him to take him water skiing when we had the old boat … but that even though dad got up and skied a little before he fell due to the choppy water. According to Mike, when they tried pulling the starting cord for the Evinrude motor after dad fell in the chilly water, the starter rope broke, and they had to be towed back to the beach. That may have been the last time dad went water skiing. It may also have contributed to us getting a new boat and a new motor!

The Sailfish was the source of one of my greatest adventures and memories. When I was about eleven and lived in Northfield, Dad said, “The wind is blowing on Lake Michigan so let’s go sailing.” So he invited Mr. Turnbull, who was one of the executives at the H.M. Harper Company, to join us. That day the wind was ripping out of the Northeast and the waves were formidable. My dad, Mr. Turnbull and I sailed the Sailfish out through the breaking waves when no one else was sailing that afternoon. When dad decided to come about and head toward the shore, the ride was fantastic. The sailboat was surfing with the waves and creating a wake. We were sailing “down wind” with the sail stretching as all three of us were leaning back to counter the tilt of the sailboat. The speed and tension on the sailboat was incredible and the daggerboard was vibrating so much from the speed and pressure that it made a humming sound.

It should be noted that the Sailfish was not built or designed as well as its successor the Sunfish which is the greatest small sailboat ever made. The Sailfish did not have the cockpit to hook your feet when you leaned out. Instead, the Sailfish had handrails on each side of the hull. The Sailfish also had a wooden mast rather than Sunfish’s more durable and lighter aluminum mast.

The intense wind and the weight of the three people on the Sailfish contributed to that afternoon’s challenge. The wind was enough of a challenge, but when you put two 175-pound men and a kid on it, the weight clearly exceeded the weight limit even under calmer circumstances. Something had to give with the hull, mast, and/or sail under these circumstances. In this case, it was the mast which suddenly broke in half sending all of us backwards (like Jacques Cousteau in his scuba outfit entering the water) into the relentless waves. We were about seventy yards off the beach at that time. All the swimming training along with a child-size life jacket helped me as I tried to get to the beach. When I was getting beaten up in the breakers about ten yards from the shore, I believed I could make it on my own to the beach, but then I felt someone grab the back of my bathing suit and drag me to the beach. It was Mr. Turnbull! I was sure my father would have grabbed me, but Mr. Turnbull got to me first. I can still remember the incredible speed and tension on the boat that day. What a thrill!

The family continued using the Sailfish for many years. When it was replaced by a much better Sunfish, it provided some fun by being pulled behind the motorboat. It may have been an insult to all the years it was used when it was finally placed in the swimming pool on a couple of occasions with lawn chairs placed on it! I have continued sailing a Sunfish with certain members of my family at Wrightsville Beach.

While in high school Dad added a swimming pool to the backyard overlooking the lake. Dad liked projects so after the pool was built, he had a 180 degree deck built over the bluff that served as the extension of the pool deck. Not to stop there, Dad had a beach house built at the base of the bluff on the bulkhead! Unfortunately, one of the Northeaster storms destroyed the beach house after many years of use. Dad liked buying historic military and nautical things. For example, he purchased an old bronze cannon that may be visible in the far right side of the deck. If you dropped a cherry bomb (a type of fireworks) down the barrel and then followed it quickly with a Hawaiian punch can, it fired the can a fair distance!

Golf and tennis continued through high school and college at Glen View Club. In the wintertime Glen View Club offered some nice diversions. In addition to being able to ice skate in Northfield and Winnetka. The club flooded the tennis courts for ice skating. Dad also took Mike and me to do skeet shooting in the winter - often followed by some brandy milk punch. The family also played on the club’s paddle tennis courts in the winter even if it was freezing and snowing!

I really enjoyed playing football even though I was not as big as most players. Basketball was fun until I broke my foot, Baseball was fun until I had to bat against a pitcher who introduced me to the curve ball which resulted in three consecutive strikeouts! I, however, continued playing touch football and neighborhood basketball. I enjoyed playing softball into my sixties via softball games I coordinated between the business school faculty and staff and the students. Yet the sport that truly captured my passion was and still is snow skiing.

Uncle Charlie contributed to my interest in two sports. Uncle Charlie took me sailing in Lake Michigan in his Star class sailboat when I was about ten. Uncle Charlie also introduced my love of snow skiing by taking me to Wilmot on the Illinois/Wisconsin border when I also was about ten years old.  

It should be noted that Uncle Charlie may have given me my first job. Soon after his son Chuck was born, he hired me to rake leaves in his first home in Glencoe. The following spring when I was in seventh grade at Sunset Ridge School, I went to caddie training at Sunset Ridge Country Club in Northfield. Being a caddie carrying two heavy golf bags (when I was 5 feet tall and only 90 pounds) may have contributed to my back problems and short stature! The training, however, taught me a lot about customer relations - which became an integral part of my teaching career and business career. I also learned a lot about playing poker on rainy days from the professional caddies!

My skiing was elevated to an all new level when for spring vacation in my sophomore year at New Trier High School I took a student trip to the Winter Park ski area in Colorado. When the train came out of the Moffat tunnel at the base of Winter Park’s slopes, it changed my life forever. To do spring skiing on slopes on great snow with runs that went on and on was an epiphany. The following year I went to Aspen and broke my ankle on the first run after being rated as an expert skier by the ski instructor. I had never experienced near waist deep moguls so when I caught the tip of one of my skis the week of skiing was over. The opportunity to ski out West contributed to my decision to attend the University of New Mexico where I could be on the chair lifts in less than an hour from campus! I continue spring snow skiing even today with family members out West with my goal to ski Colorado - probably Keystone - when I am eighty …. but avoiding black diamond runs! I want to take the opportunity to make my case for the good old days of skiing in the 1960s when compared to snow skiing today. Granted, it is nice to ride a gondola today in cold and windy weather rather than just a chairlift. But I would love to return to the buckled leather ski boots of the past. Today’s composite ski boots may protect your ankles better. Their support may even give you at least an hour more of skiing each day. But let’s call them what they are. They are like “gravity boots.” They keep skiers from “getting air.” The ski boots of the good old days were far lighter and more flexible! You could do jumps on even the smallest bumps. I miss that experience and kids today do not even know about getting air. I am saddened by the fact that my best skiing and having the most fun on the slopes occurred before gravity boots ruled the slopes. Those were the days when you could talk to your skis and they would respond immediately to your wishes.

Uncle Kenny (only seven years older than me), like Uncle Charlie, played a role in my formative years. He took Mike and me sailing on the family’s Sailfish before we moved to Winnetka. I remember him carrying the Sailfish on his back from the shore across the beach to the bluff - he was like the mythological god Atlas! On another occasion when he lived at 70 Locust in Winnetka, he, Mike and I built a tree house over the driveway out of storm windows by using a pulley.

Uncle Kenny also liked cars. He had a 1959 red Chevy convertible. He installed an aircraft steering wheel in place of the conventional steering wheel. I remember returning from Lake Geneva with Uncle Kenny driving his family’s black Cadillac convertible with red leather interior with the top down. I had to sit in the back seat because a very attractive female was in front - this was well before he got married. A few years later - again before he got married - he bought a red 1952 convertible Ferrari Sport Spider racing car that had three four-barrel carburetors and a small windshield for the driver. He was excited to show me the three four-barrel carburetors under the hood. He then took me for a drive on Edens Expressway - but not as if he was on the Autobahn.

Uncle Kenny also played an instrumental role in my increased interest in surfing. I was already interested in surfing because of the songs by the Beach Boys, Jan and Dean as well as some of the surfing movies like The Endless Summer. But it increased when I actually learned how to surf. That happened when I was on spring break in my senior year of high school in Palm Beach. After returning from the Florida Keys on the MarMike, I was at the beach when Uncle Kenny came up and asked me if I would like to try surfing. Kenny said one of his friends Sunny Bippus was also at the beach who was a surfer among other things. Sunny provided me with a brief, but memorable surfing lesson. The following February when I was in college Sunny’ was featured in Sports Illustrated with her picture on the cover!

After trying out surfing in the Atlantic Ocean with Sunny Bippus as my instructor, I returned to Winnetka to try surfing on Lake Michigan. I bought two very buoyant surfboards that would help attempts to surf on Lake Michigan where the waves did not stay formed very long. The picture shows (L to R) Nita’s friend, Keith Bagge, Nita - Mike’s girl friend at the time before they were married, Butch Honaker, brother Mike, and me. The picture is not very good, but it does capture the excitement of surfing on Lake Michigan. By the way, I did not go to my high school graduation ceremony because “the surf was up.”

I was also able to go to spring training with the Braves when they were in Palm Beach. To get outfield fly ball practice with players like Eddie Matthews who would be in the Hall of Fame was an extraordinary experience. The highlight of my experience with the Braves came in the spring of 1965 - the year before the Braves moved to Atlanta and became the Atlanta Braves. I had the opportunity to play left-center field in the nighttime pregame home run derby contest between the Braves and the Detroit Tigers in front of 45,000 fans. I only had one ball hit toward me - but it was Henry Aaron’s hit that drove me to the back of the warning track … which I caught (fortunately) at eye level just under the place where Henry Aaron years later would break Babe Ruth’s home run record. 

I really admired and respected Henry Aaron who broke the “color barrier” as Jackie Robinson did when he played for the Brooklyn Dodgers years earlier. When the Braves moved to Atlanta., he faced death threats which continued throughout his career. I had a chance to learn more about Henry Aaron’s true character and “love of the game.” I was in the Braves’ locker room before the home run derby when I saw Joe Torre who was a young catcher for the Braves (who would be in the Hall of Fame and manager of the New York Yankees) having a heated discussion with Henry Aaron. Joe Torre was angry with the management of Braves because as Joe Torre exclaimed, “They don’t pay us enough for these exhibition games!” I was just a few feet away from them when Henry Aaron responded, “I would play for free!” I shared the same philosophy when I reflected on my career as a college professor. Yet, it was nice to have a career as a college professor that actually paid well and provided fourteen weeks of paid vacation each year!

My high school years and the first years of college were noteworthy from a “social” perspective. Mom insisted that I take dancing classes at Mrs. Wulson’s Dance School at the Womens’ Club in Winnetka. It was as bad as having teeth pulled without Novocaine. We had to dress up and exhibit the best behavior while learning to do dance steps that were totally out of sync with the rock and roll of the times. Mom’s rationale for forcing us to go was that we would be prepared for debut parties and other social functions a few years later. She was right in her forecast about fancy parties - especially debut parties. I, like the other guys at these parties, did not care for the “unveiling” of some well-to-do families’ daughters. Yet, the food (and at our age - the free drinks) made the time and social pain worthwhile. In addition to the debut parties there were fancy “Fortnight” parties in the Chicago area while I was in college. Again, the abundant food and free “beverages” made the time worthwhile. I remember we had to wear tuxedos with black coats in the winter and white coats in the summer to the various events.

My College Years

Probably the most memorable social event occurred after my Freshman year at college. There was a tradition where about fifty guys that summer had the opportunity to invite young women to what was called “The Beautillion.” It had that name because it was the flip side (and mimicked) the Cotillion that was an event sponsored by numerous parents to “showcase” their daughters. Five things really stood out about the Beautillion. First, you could invite up to six females anonymously. This meant you could invite a girl you always wanted to date in high school. It also meant you could invite the Homecoming Queen for Northwestern University. She may not accept the invitation, but the attitude was, “Why not invite her?” even though many of the invitees did not come. The event was such a well-known event to females that it was hard for the invitees to resist coming. The resulting female to male ratio was far more than one-to-one. Second, the food and drink were never-ending. Third, the band “Baby Hewey” was great. Fourth, instead of having the usual receiving line at debut parties where you had to shake hands with the daughter and her family, we did not have “such formality” when our invitees arrived. Fifth, we had so much money left over that we had a party during the following Christmas break. Due to the associated liability, the Beautillion did not continue in time for my brother David to experience it four years later. I would also like to note that I do not drink alcohol any more. I had little interest in alcohol after college,

When reflecting on my undergraduate years, three events changed my life. The first is how I ended up attending the University of New Mexico. I applied to three universities - remember I graduated far from the top of my class at New Trier. I applied to the University of Arizona where my brother Mike attended and some of my friends planned to attend. I received a letter from the Dean of the Business School saying he did not think I was college material. so I was turned down. I was delighted to earn my MBA from the U of A and graduate in the top ten percent of my graduating class. Fortunately, The University of New Mexico was more impressed with my high score on the math part of the SAT to admit me. That was not the life-changing event though. What was life changing involved me applying for admission to California Western University. As noted earlier, I really liked surfing and the campus was located right on the shore of the Pacific Ocean near San Diego. I was disappointed when I never heard about my application. So I went to the University of New Mexico. After graduating from college, I learned why I never heard from California Western. My mother admitted she threw out the acceptance letter before I got it. She explained she did it because she knew I would probably flunk out - after all, California was the epicenter for surfing in the United States. She also threw it out because she was afraid I would never come home. Even though my mother’s action may seem to be a betrayal of trust, she probably was right.

The second was my father’s heart attack (dad was only 44 at the time). It caused me to take a step back and take a hard look at my own mortality and career path. It became clear I did not want to take the road traveled by most people that involved working for forty or more years with only two weeks off per year and the likelihood that if one does a really good job, one’s family could be relocated thus leaving various relationships behind. Talking with my faculty advisor, I learned if I wanted to have a career that provided positive challenges as well as variety and the opportunity to be innovative …. then becoming a college professor provided the opportunity to continue growing as a person and enabled me to have the opportunity to have a strong family environment. Thus, I began my quest to become a college professor.

The third event began the following summer when I took a seven-week tour of Europe with thirty or so college students from across the country. I knew it had to be then because if I waited to take such a trip it would probably would not happen when I was older. Yet the story behind how I chose that trip is worth noting. When I realized I really wanted to see Europe and that none of my friends were in a position to travel with me, my mother suggested I see the family’s travel agent to learn about another way to see Europe. The travel agent suggested STOP Tours which provided a variety of packages. I found a trip that appealed to me because it started in Paris. I studied French in high School and loved the sound of a female with a French accent. Before writing the check for the trip (which was a big deal), I asked the travel agent to find out what the male to female ratio was. When I learned I was to be the fifth or sixth guy out of the thirty students for the trip, I immediately signed the check. My attitude was that if Europe became boring, then at least the male to female ratio would make it interesting. That ratio was noteworthy because the male to female ratio at The University of New Mexico was about ten males to one or two females. It was even worse in my business classes where there were no females! I felt like I was in a military academy or a monastery! I even took an art appreciation class so I could be in a class with female students.

On the second day of the trip while in Paris it was around midnight when I met Marshall. I was at a corner cafe on one of the major thoroughfares. She had just returned from the Lido show wearing a pretty yellow dress with pearls. I was on my way back from touring the nightlife of Paris on foot. I was dressed casually to blend in with the Parisians and had a full beard at the time. Marshall and her roommate were walking passed my table when they noticed that I was a member of the tour. I invited them to join me. The tour group went on a cruise on the Seine the following night. It was not a date, but it gave us a chance to get to know each more. As they say, “The rest is history!” Our relationship and marriage will be profiled in another section.

The primacy of the time spent with family (grandparents, parents, uncles and siblings) in my early years played an integral part in my lifelong commitment to my extended family.

The pictures below are of me when I was about six, my high school graduation picture, a picture of me at Big Sur in the summer of 1970 before I married Marshall later that year, and me water skiing in Wisconsin at the age of 69 behind the boat David gave or sold to Doug .