Reflections on a Blessed and Satisfying Life - No.17: High School Academics

Reflections on a Blessed and Satisfying Life - No.17: High School Academics

Concordia Academy was clear on its mission: train young men for the rostered ministries of The Lutheran Church-Missouri Synod-both those ordained for pastoral ministry and those commissioned for the teaching ministry. I was in the second category following in the footsteps of my father.

Our training was in the old tradition of classical education. We took at least one course in religion every term. Next in priority came the languages. I took English, German (all using German script) and Spanish. Those studying for the pastoral ministry added Latin and even some Greek.

I do not think any of our professors ever took a course in educational methodology. They were clergy and were probably chosen because they scored high academically.  Dr. Studtmann who was also the school’s Director taught religion and German. The eccentric (and brilliant Dr. Viehweg taught Latin and Greek. Dr. Martin J. Neeb taught us public speaking and he assured us that even though we were in high school he used exactly the same curriculum he used while concurrently teaching that course at the University of Texas. The theologian George J Beto taught physics.  For two years Dr. Robert Schroeder taught whatever no one else taught. He was an excellent teacher (and should also have been the basketball coach!).

True to the values of the day, there were no women on the faculty. One woman was allowed to teach individual students the piano. I was among her notable disastrous failures (not due to any deficiencies on her part, I can assure you.) The other woman who was allowed on campus (and she wasn’t even a Missouri Synod Lutheran was a Mrs. Lillian Bedicheck. She taught Spanish. She was wonderful. She loved us. She gave it her best. We were disrespectful, came to class barefoot, not studious and failed to do our homework. But she hung in there with us, was extremely gracious and kind and I have wonderful and fond memories of her.

(Caveat on Mrs. Bedicheck: One of the reasons we loved her is that her husband was a big wheel in Texas athletics and he got us free passes to Texas Longhorn games etc. Twenty years after leaving Austin I was in a tailor shop in Hong Kong. I met a tourist from Austin Texas. I disclosed that I went to Concordia. The surprised comment from the tourist ”Oh, that is where my best friend Mrs. Bedicheck taught Spanish. She loved those boys and still talks about them!

When I compare the quality of my high school education with that of my grandchildren I see again how inadequate my high school years were. There was way too much indoctrination, too much rote, and too little project work. No cooperative work assignments, little creativity, no problem solving, no understanding of different learning styles, very little appreciation for the arts. On the other hand our teaching gave us strong faith and moral grounding, dedication to hard work, and a desire for more learning.

Another caveat: Prof Viehweg tried to teach us music appreciation. One evening he had a select group of us meet with him to listen to some classical music played for us from a wind-up Victrola. When I got back to my room I told my roommate how bad it was. I said to him, “We listened to that one song and all they sang was ‘Hosanna ‘over and over!” Of course it was from Handel’s Messiah and just too far removed from Country Western for me to think it could come anywhere close to expressing what one truly feels!

I guess something was done right. I still remember most of the Lutheran doctrine taught me. I can still diagram sentences. I have been able to have quite a bit of my writing published; I enjoy classical music and still read old German script. Just don’t expect me to play you a song on the piano-or send you a greeting in Spanish!

Reflections on a Blessed and Satisfying Life. No. 16 - High School Days: Sports

Sports was probably number one in my life as a high school student. As mentioned in previous blogs, I attended Concordia Academy in Austin Texas for my four high school years. This was an all-boarding school, boys only,which during my days there never reached an enrollment of 100.

With such few students it was pretty well assured that if one wanted play varsity sports one would make the team. The biggest team sport was basketball and I lettered all four years. I was short but reasonable fast.It was during these days in the mid-forties that the one hand jump shot came to be popular. I practiced it endlessly.

We had no gym and had only an outdoor dirt-covered court. All games were “away games:. The only indoor practice facility was a basement room we called “the boiler room”. Apparently at some point  there was a plan  to have central for the campius-but they never could afford a big e. So the 20X20X12 foot room became our gym. I spent hours there-often with my roommate Mike Mitschke who beat me about 9 times out of ten in our one on one games. We played other small schools, some church youth teams, but the biggest rivalry was with the Texas School for the Deaf.

George J Beto who later became head of the Texas prison system was our coach .However, the term “:coach” was not really applicable. He was more monitor, driver, and disciplinarian., I doubt that he ever  even[played basketball, had no real knowledge  of how to  put together either an ofensive or defensive plan. But he ran the show. My memory is that we lost more games than we won-and I enjoyed every minute of it.. One big thing about the basketball team: we actually had uniforms-the only team at the school with this distinction.

Dr. Beto was not only coach but also the dormitory supervisor and was in charge of our recreation time. So he umpired our every-day softball games.which were played after dinner and before our mandatory seven to nine p m study period which he also monitored. I plated short-stop mainly. Sometimes I also played the outfield. I was a pretty good hitter and I thought I had a strong arm. It was only after college and I was playing for a local ameateur team that I finally had a coach. I remember especially the coaching I then received that on a throw to the plate from the outfield it was very important to keep the arc of the throw low as that extra second saved would mean the difference between an out or a a score.

We also played six man flag football. For a few weeks one year we interrupted that. Somehow or other we heard of a group of guys (all of whom were black) who  also had a pick-up football team. Neither of us had uniforms or even helmets and yet we played “tackle football. We discovered the the  University of Texas did not lock the near-by Memorial Stadium after Saturday home games.  So on Sunday afternoon we battled it our right there on that hallowed turf. I also remember my nose getting terribly battered but Iwas not allowed to disclose this as “tackle football” was prohibited. To this day I still have a severely  separated septum in the middle of my nose.

Every spring we had a big Field Day in which we ran track events. Again I did them all-winning very little-if any.However, I did  do fairly well in throwing the discuss. My discuss throwing was always influ nced by an event that took placed in my freshman year. The senior who was throwing the discuss let it slip. It struck a by-stander right in the face and he had to be taken to the hospital for treatment. I made    sure I didn’t let loose of the discuss and I can assure you I never sent any record for how far I threw it.

The commaradery was great. The exercise helpful. The discipline enduring. The enjoyment wonderful. And I think it helped me keep an interest (and even a certain abimlity in sports which endure toi this day.

Closure and Moving On

It is now more than three months since our son David died. The literature says, “It’s time for closure and moving on.” That might be good advice. Yet something about those words does not ring true to me. I want to remember and I also want to move on, but I will move on aware that my life has a new reality. I have changed. I want to “move on” but as a changed person. That is what I am trying to do.

But first there are some elements to the closure that I want to always remember. I want to be grateful for the many letters, notes, cards, emails and memorial gifts that help me recall the best of David. So many stories of him reaching out to those looked down upon or ignored by others. The story from a Community Center he started when AIDS was a bad word not to be mentioned in polite company. This Center now serves some thousand clients  a day. The letter from Finland  informing me that more than 3000 copies of his “Home for Christmas” article had been distributed. The old newspaper clipping we discovered in which teen-agers and their parents wrote letters to the editor in affirmation of his work on the streets of Glen Ellyn, IL on behalf of young people who were losing  their way. A couple pastors even sent copies of sermons they preached built around recollections of David’s faith, positive attitude and advocacy for the persecuted. (and I try to forget that in the midst of this there were  and are others claiming the name Christian who call for the death and eternal damnation for people like David.)

So  I think of all this as I seek closure.

And then comes another flood of memories; Family. Dave’s sibs have been incredible, both in supporting him in his last months and in dealing with all that comes after a death. They have divided the tasks. Peggy is CEO responsible for selling the house, car, etc.Tim is dealing with all those medical bills which will be coming in for another year. John deals with the finances associated with credit cards, insurance  proceeds et sim, Liz worked on all the Celebration of Life issues around caterer, tarps for the patio n etc.etc. And they are doing this all without any sibling (or parental ) acrimony.

Family extends also to my birth family, with special appreciation for the support also demonstrated by the attendance here for the last rituals. They came from Texas. They made their own arrangements for accommodations. They spoke lovingly and emotionally at the ceremonies. They took care of “the elderly” among the group.

All of this marvelous family harmony and support stands in strong contrast to what I have unfortunately seen in others who deal with these matters with great disagreements, arguments and even bitterness,

Anyone who has deatl with taking care of post-death arrangements knows there is pain involved in things like  conducting an estate sale, taking care of the cremains, disposing of personal items like clothes and favorite arr objects.

In the midst of this has been the care of 7 members of one Afghan family which just arrived in the USA escaping the Taliban who had already killed their father and elder brother. David had been providing housing and other assistance and now other sources of support need to be identified.

I realize that I am certainly not alone in all this. Thousands around the world do this every hour. I have the special advantage of a spouse who is with me all the way sharing not only the tasks  but also the emotions.

And now I move on, determined to live each day as fully as possible, to put people first, to have my house in order and to confidently trust the One who walks beside me every day, now and forever.