Reflections on a Blessed and Happy Life No. 31 College Sports

 I have a friend who often reminds me that when I speak of my high school and college sports activities that I should always begin by explaining that I played in a very small pool. His point is that when one is in a small pool one can be a tiny fish and still seems to have volume. He has made his point ever since he discovered that my high school had about 100 students and my college some 600.

When I arrived at Concordia I had never played legal tackle football. (I say “legal” because we had an unauthorized little team which played without uniforms and which snuck onto the wonderful turf of Memorial Stadium of the University of Texas and played against a similar unauthorized team made up of local black young men from the neighborhood). I was eager to play college football. I was assigned the position of right end and played both offence and defense. I had a couple things going for me: 1. I had spent the summer in San Antonio heat digging foundation trenches at construction sites using only pick and shovel. So, my body was rock hard and 2. I had played lots of “take away” where we competed to grab fly balls snatching them away from other pursuers. Thus I did pretty well at catching passes, grabbing five of them in the first quarter of an early game. The bad news is that I was a very slow runner and the coach reminded me on the sidelines “Kieschnick, if you could run we would have a bunch of touchdowns!” Then I broke my ankle - but I did play all four years.

 

Probably the biggest surprise of my days as a footballer is that I was elected team captain. It was in my junior year. I had returned after a year of being a teaching intern. The coach assembled the team and asked then to use a secret ballot to elect their captain. I won – getting almost all the votes. It had been entirely kept from me by my teammates that they were planning this.

I was on the varsity basketball team for a year, but other players, especially those from basketball- crazy Ft. Wayne Indiana were all better that I was. So after my freshman year I settled for intramural basketball, did a few things on the track team like throwing the discuss and shot putt, but you will certainly not find my name in an record books.

I did play four years of varsity baseball. In high school I always played shortstop, but that position was sewed up by an upper classman and I took to the outfield. My arm was not bad, but after college I played some under a very experienced coach. He always (correctly) insisted that my throws from the outfield had too high an arc and therefore took too long to reach their destination. He was right. My baseball colleague Rudy Block (who died way too young) really monitored batting averages and he assured me that my batting average was number two on the team, second only to his

One other memory: Once I was removed for a pinch hitter even though the coach knew that I had the second highest batting average. And Coach Waldschmidt had seen my two previous plate appearances against this very small but canny left-hander who struck me out in both my previous two trips to the plate. I simply could not connect with his curve which broke toward my body. I guess some moralist will tell me that it was a good learning experience for me to have to sit on the bench.

An interesting intra-mural fun game was badminton. By some coincidence my roommate and fellow Texan Roland Trinkklein and I battled it out for the school championship.

All in all  I am very grateful for my college sports activities. It kept me in good physical shape. Being part of a team is a very rewarding and learning experience. Learning to lose (which we did often) taught me that life often has bitter losses and I have experienced and survived my share of them in the many years since I last played college sports-and being on losing teams prepared me well to be a fan of the San Diego Padres and Chargers.

REFLECTIONS ON A BLESSED AND HAPPY LIFE NO 30: STUDENT GOVERNMENT

One of the most enjoyable and long-term beneficial aspect of college life was my involvement with Student Government. I think it started already in my freshman year when I was a “floor rep”. It got amped up on my junior year when I became head of the Men’s Council. It ended in my senior year when I served as Student Body President. The last was fun even before it started, as there was a long and interesting campaign season.

Two cousins, Blondie and Blackie Doering, were school mates one year behind me. When I decided to run for office they chose to be my campaign managers. That was fun, as we made signs, had slogans, made some campaign speeches etc. They were great and we succeeded. If my memory is correct I received some 90% of the popular vote. Which probably totaled some 600 in this small school.

The task of Student Body President involved quite a bit. I chaired all student council meetings, oversaw a whole host of student committees and met weekly with the college dean to discuss campus life. One of the perks of the office was that it carried with it a school grant in the fabulous amount of $100.00 for the year. (This sounds infinitesimal now, but since my total college costs for the year were around $500.00 this was a nice little help.)

One minor aspect and very strange “duty” of the student body president was to lead the entire campus in table prayers each day for the evening meal. In those days we had a very limited and set time for dinner. It was served “family style” and there were no food options. We ate what was set before us or went hungry. The members of the Student Council sat at an elevated head table. I led the table prayer or designated someone else to do it. In retrospect this all seems very strange.

One of the heavier assignments was that the Dean consulted me when serious discipline actions needed to be taken against students. I still have some regret over one particular case. One of the young men had been caught stealing some money from another student. He confessed and seemed truly repentant. I also knew he came from a rural family and his parents were extremely proud that their son was entering the teaching ministry of the church. But the dean was adamant “This may be his first offense, but it’s serious. He’s out of here.”  Despite my not strong enough protests and pleas he was sent home to his devastated parents and to this day I wonder what he did with the rest of his life. I still regret my failure in giving him another chance.

One of the things I did of which I was most proud is that I suggested, then organized and finally chaired the very first nationwide conference of all student body presidents from each of the Lutheran Church-Missouri Synod colleges across the country. This was unheard of at that time and our college president was very afraid of this. He feared it might lead to some kind of inappropriate demands from these radical students. It was  of course, nothing of the kind. Just a good time for us to get together, learn from and support each other. One of the wonderful results of this was that for many years after that I would run into those student leaders and see what a positive difference they were making in he life of the church and society.

There is one other aspect of all this about which I have very good feelings. It turns out that in 1920 my father Oscar Kieschnick had served as “sem buck’ for this Concordia. In 1950 I had that title and some 25 years after me our son David was elected student body president at this same school. Just a quiet satisfaction. And the lessons I learned in that position served me well in a variety of positions I held later in my professional life

REFLECTIONS ON A BLESSED AND HAPPY LIFE NO.29: JANE

 By far the most important outcome of my college education had nothing to do with academics or career options. It had everything to do with my meeting, courting, loving and becoming engaged to Jane Ann Scheimann.

I was hardly a big “ladies man” in either high school or college years. In high school I think I had a total of three formal dates and they led to no special relationships. In my freshman year at college I dated some but nothing special clicked. In my sophomore year at college I did fall for a young woman, but she jilted me. Then a colleague suggested I ask for a date with Jane Scheimann, a woman I had not previously noticed. Not noticing her was my bad judgment. Our first dates were very simple. We’d attend a basketball game together, then maybe go to Petersons Ice Cream Parlor for a sundae.

Dating during my college years presented some challenges: I had no money. Cars were forbidden. “Girls”  had to be back in their dorms early, 10:00 p.m.. most nights. Public displays of affection were quickly admonished by the Dean of Women.

But we managed very well. Some of our best dates involved taking the Chicago el to go the Loop in downtown Chicago. Of course we walked the two miles each way to and from the el station. If we could save a few bucks we would buy discounted tickets to the Goodman Theater, which staged very good plays. Or we would just walk around the Loop, find our way to Lake Michigan and then hold hands, madly in love, staring at the Buckingham Fountain. “Eating out” would be very simple until we had been together for over a year and Jane’s father came to town and took us to Berghoff’s in the Loop for a fancy dinner that included not only great food but also wonderful, romantic violin music

Intimacy options were limited. But love finds a way. Our first kiss was behind the college gym. The Catholic Monastery not far away had massive grounds with secluded trees perfect for smooching.  Old-fashioned vows of chastity were self-imposed until our wedding night.

In our senior year we had a date that could have turned out to be very embarrassing. Cousin Blondie Doering’s mother was visiting. She arrived in her Buick. After all of us going out for ice cream we stopped the car in front of the dorm, but Blondie who had been driving said, “Here, you to take the car for the rest of the evening.” I slide behind the wheel of the car with the engine running. By11:00 we were in the secluded parking lot of a near-by Forest Preserve. A policeman arrived and informed us that the park was closing and we had to leave. I attempted to start the car, but simply could not find the starter. Sweating profusely, I looked everywhere and was still fruitlessly searching when the officer returned. “I warned you two. Now get going or I will arrest you!” I was in a car in Illinois with Texas license plates. I had no ownership papers and I was unaware of where the starter was. In my panic I stomped my feet in every direction. Somewhere I hit a starter button (under the clutch?). The car started! The officer gave us one more incredulous look and sent us on our way back to the college dorm.

And we have been hitting starter buttons and heading on our way together ever since.

REFLECTIONS ON A BLESSED AND HAPPY LIFE NO. 28: TEACHERS COLLEGE

There was never any doubt as to which college I would attend. I think I was only 5 years old when I announced to my Mother that I was going to follow in my father’s footsteps and become a teacher in the parochial school system of The Lutheran Church-Missouri Synod (LCMS) and that is where I landed.

 In 1945 Concordia Teacher College (CTC) was a very closed institution. It enrolled only LCMS Lutherans aspiring to be parochial school teachers. While it was co-ed it was far different from today’s coed colleges. Males were not allowed to visit the women’s dorms except on a few rare occasions and the women were ordered to keep their room doors open at any of the rare times when males were allowed on the floor. Once a year a wife of one of the Profs gathered the “girls” and gave them a lecture on sex. The women had to be signed into their rooms by 11:00 pm except for once a term when they received a special permit to stay out until 1:30 am.

Academically the school was very traditional. The Profs were committed to their students and all of them had to be rostered ministers of the LCMS. Of course, there were no computers and I had no typewriter. Teaching by assigning group projects was unheard of.

I did not do well in my freshman year and in one term made three grades of “C”. Then I caught on and did well always being on the Dean’s List and eventually graduating with highest academic honors.

Our education courses turned out to be not very helpful. However we had an English professor, Diesing, who taught me how to read, to organize, to write, to appreciate theater. It was also obvious that the teachers really cared about us students. Their office doors were always open. They always knew my name, and gave me much positive affirmation. My piano and organ teachers were unbelievable. All students were required to play an instrument. Teaching me to do that was hopeless, yet my teachers were kind, kept my weekly sessions with them short and encouraged me to fully use my other talents..

 The school helped shape my spiritual values and beliefs. I am grateful to Doc Koehler who indoctrinated me in the Lutheran tradition. Daily chapel attendance was required and not very creative. I now realize that all of this helped my spiritual formation but I also realize that I no longer believe much of what I was taught, especially as it relates to the role of women, the insights on all world religions, the wide arms of grace, the definition of church, the inclusiveness of the sacraments, etc. etc. I am grateful for what I was taught and that I have continued to learn and develop.

In retrospect CTC helped shape me, gave me a commitment to learning, prepared me for graduate work, gave me my first teaching placement and maybe most important of all: gave me the opportunity to meet a young woman named Jane Scheimann about whom I will write in my next blog.

AFGHAN TORTURED FAMILY SAGA PART II

 When Afghan refugee whom I have designated S-1 was sent to San Diego she was advised to contact Survivors of Torture, International. This is an organization that helps people who have fled to the USA because they have suffered government-sponsored torture. I had assisted this organization secure a start-up grant from Wheat Ridge Ministries more than ten years ago. I was a member of its Board of Directors. By coincidence our late son David had contacted this organization with an unusual offer.

David lived alone in his home here in San Diego. On his lot he had refurnished a beautiful small granny flat. Originally he intended to rent it out. Then he came to the conclusion that he did not really need rental income and that some needy person might find it a wonderful place to live. So he contacted Kathi Anderson of Survivors of Torture, Inc. Within 24 hours she had identified S-1 who was overjoyed to find a place to live other than the small one-bedroom apartment she was sharing with three refugees from Africa

When she moved in she was in a very difficult status. She spoke virtually no English. She had recurring headaches. She knew her parents were dead, her elder brother also murdered and her siblings in hiding.

David sprang into action. He provided cooking utensils, bedding, helped her get a bus pass and assisted her in enrolling in a local community college. She responded with deep appreciation, incredible hard work at her studies, and got a job of cleaning rooms in a hotel. She regained hope.

After about a year her siblings found refuge in America under the sponsorship of several human care agencies. Unfortunately, 2 of her sibs were assigned to San Diego and 4 younger ones placed in a foster home in Hemet, CA some 90 miles away. David assisted in cutting miles of red tape, got the family to at least have telephone connections, and all this while he was suffering from growing throat cancer. Then David’s cancer worsened and he died.  Like the rest of us she was devastated but determined. Against unbelievable odds and with massive assistance, especially from David’s Estate and generous members of Calvary Lutheran Church, Solana Beach, S-1 got herself named “foster parent” for her siblings. The entire family was reunited in San Diego with 6 of them now living together in a rented home.

All 7 of this family are now in school. Two have found part-time work. S-1 is in school full-time, foster parents the younger ones and manages it all. They are all determined to make it. She has sworn that they will stop needing “outside assistance” as early as possible.

The challenges continue. Getting a used car and driver’s license is a continuing major issue. Women do not drive cars in Afghanistan and roads do not lave lanes or stop lights. The house got bed bugs. The kids who had not seen a dentist for 5 years have terrible teeth and no money for dental care. Her eyes are a mess and her insurance does not cover eye care. Their Muslim headscarves bring them occasional taunts.

But they persevere and with the help of friends they will make it and be a valuable addition to this country they now very thankfully and proudly call home.