Just to set the scene and the chronology – I moved to Atlanta to take the job at Emory in March of 1975. Jean and I married in June of 1976. Jean moved to Atlanta that summer and began teaching at Avondale High School.
The short version:
We met Anne and Earl Wilson through Dolores Hall, a colleague of mine in the Emory University Registrar’s Office. Earl Wilson and Dolores’ husband, Gene Hall, had been fraternity brothers when they were in college at Mercer University. Actually, I think they were all at Mercer at the same time.
The long version:
Shortly after Jean and I married, which coincided with Gene Hall’s 50th birthday, Dolores invited us to spend the weekend at their lake house on Lake Hartwell. The lake house was a long trailer permanently situated in the woods. The Halls had several acres of land at Lake Hartwell that included a log cabin. Jean and I stayed in the log cabin.
Up the hill from the Halls’ trailer was a house owned by the Wilsons. The Halls and the Wilsons have been lifelong friends since their days at Mercer University shortly after WW II. It was their custom to invite each other for drinks before dinner each evening while up at the lake, and sometimes to have dinner together.
The Halls invited us up to the lake to stay in their cabin several times, and on each occasion we would end up having drinks, and possibly dinner, with the Wilsons. Our friendship developed from those visits in the late 1970s. We’ve been good friends for 35 years.
Tom
June 2011
Thursday, July 28, 2011
Wednesday, July 20, 2011
Ann Asks: How you asked Mom to marry you
This one is embarrassing and painful to tell. I was 23 years old. Please remember that throughout the story; I was 23 and didn’t know any better. I was immature. The decision to marry Mom (Jean) isn’t the issue. It was a good decision. How I proposed is the issue.
From June 1974 through February 1975 I worked as the sole computer programmer and de facto director of the computer operations for Frank N. Magid Associates in Marion, Iowa. At that time the firm was engaged in marketing research and I was writing a computer system for statistical analysis. What Microsoft Excel Pivot-tables can do in seconds took me almost a year to program in 1974.
During this time Jean was teaching math at Anamosa High School in Anamosa, Iowa. Jean had a second floor apartment in a house in Anamosa. I had an apartment in Marion I shared with my Coe College running buddy Mark Robertson. We continued to date making frequent trips (30 minute drive) back and forth to see each other on weekends.
In March of 1975 I took the job as Assistant Registrar at Emory University in Atlanta, Georgia. I had a salary of $8,400 per year. My primary assignment was computer operations, all of which is avoiding the embarrassing part of the story.
I was 23 years old and had never been away from home. Yes, I went to college and lived in the dorms, but I was never more than 2 miles from home. Yes, I graduated and got a job and an apartment in Marion, Iowa, but I was still only about 5 miles from home. I really wanted to prove to myself that I could live by myself independently. That was my thinking at the time. So I took the job in Atlanta. It was selfish of me. I am sure I hurt Jean’s feelings and totally confused my parents. My dad kept asking me, “Are you sure you know what you are doing?” I said I did, but I now know that I didn’t.
Jean and I sent letters back and forth between Anamosa and Atlanta. We also recorded messages on cassette tapes which we mailed back and forth. Occasionally these got crushed by the United States Postal Service. Phone calls were rare as long distance charges in those days were quite expensive.
Jean spent a fair number of weekends at my parent’s house in Cedar Rapids as they had become good friends. I spent my weekends reading science fiction books and being lonely in my Stone Mountain apartment. After six months alone in Atlanta I declared myself thoroughly independent, but totally miserable.
So I finally got up the guts to ask Jean to marry me one weekend in August, but realized she was visiting her sister in Iowa City. I didn’t have enough money to fly to Iowa to ask her in person, and driving 18 hours each way didn’t seem reasonable either. Note well that some segments of the interstate road system were not yet complete. So I tracked down Rachel’s phone number and called her. I was 23, okay? Keep remembering that.
I got Jean on the phone and tried to make a series of statements that were so obvious and true that the only logical conclusion would be that we should get married. I didn’t want “No” for an answer. I wanted her to see that we were right for each other and that she simply must say “Yes”.
It was too much like a mathematical theorem that didn't make sense, and it wasn’t making any sense to Jean as I built up to the final conclusion. Jean was listening to my sales pitch and thinking that I was breaking up with her, and the whole time I was thinking I was making a good argument for marriage. So when I finally concluded with “Will you marry me?” Jean was confused and shocked. There was this long silence on the phone and I was scared that she was going to say “No”. So eventually I filled the silence with “If you’d like some time to think about it that would be okay.”
I guess the correct approach was “I love you. Will you marry me?”, but I didn’t think that was a compelling argument. I thought that if my only asset was love, then I was a pretty poor candidate for a partner in life. Oh well, hindsight is pretty good from here. John Lennon says, “All You Need Is Love”. I thought that was a given, like in math, and didn’t need to be said, but clearly I should have stated it up front.
After waiting an eternity for an answer on the phone, long distance no less, Jean eventually said yes, but it didn’t come out clearly amongst the sobbing and crying, so I asked her to say it again just to be sure.
Over the next 10 months we only saw each other a few times, like at Christmas and spring break. We got married on June 26, 1976. Nowadays our longest separations are when she leaves me to go see our grandchildren!
That’s my version of events.
Tom
June 2011
From June 1974 through February 1975 I worked as the sole computer programmer and de facto director of the computer operations for Frank N. Magid Associates in Marion, Iowa. At that time the firm was engaged in marketing research and I was writing a computer system for statistical analysis. What Microsoft Excel Pivot-tables can do in seconds took me almost a year to program in 1974.
During this time Jean was teaching math at Anamosa High School in Anamosa, Iowa. Jean had a second floor apartment in a house in Anamosa. I had an apartment in Marion I shared with my Coe College running buddy Mark Robertson. We continued to date making frequent trips (30 minute drive) back and forth to see each other on weekends.
In March of 1975 I took the job as Assistant Registrar at Emory University in Atlanta, Georgia. I had a salary of $8,400 per year. My primary assignment was computer operations, all of which is avoiding the embarrassing part of the story.
I was 23 years old and had never been away from home. Yes, I went to college and lived in the dorms, but I was never more than 2 miles from home. Yes, I graduated and got a job and an apartment in Marion, Iowa, but I was still only about 5 miles from home. I really wanted to prove to myself that I could live by myself independently. That was my thinking at the time. So I took the job in Atlanta. It was selfish of me. I am sure I hurt Jean’s feelings and totally confused my parents. My dad kept asking me, “Are you sure you know what you are doing?” I said I did, but I now know that I didn’t.
Jean and I sent letters back and forth between Anamosa and Atlanta. We also recorded messages on cassette tapes which we mailed back and forth. Occasionally these got crushed by the United States Postal Service. Phone calls were rare as long distance charges in those days were quite expensive.
Jean spent a fair number of weekends at my parent’s house in Cedar Rapids as they had become good friends. I spent my weekends reading science fiction books and being lonely in my Stone Mountain apartment. After six months alone in Atlanta I declared myself thoroughly independent, but totally miserable.
So I finally got up the guts to ask Jean to marry me one weekend in August, but realized she was visiting her sister in Iowa City. I didn’t have enough money to fly to Iowa to ask her in person, and driving 18 hours each way didn’t seem reasonable either. Note well that some segments of the interstate road system were not yet complete. So I tracked down Rachel’s phone number and called her. I was 23, okay? Keep remembering that.
I got Jean on the phone and tried to make a series of statements that were so obvious and true that the only logical conclusion would be that we should get married. I didn’t want “No” for an answer. I wanted her to see that we were right for each other and that she simply must say “Yes”.
It was too much like a mathematical theorem that didn't make sense, and it wasn’t making any sense to Jean as I built up to the final conclusion. Jean was listening to my sales pitch and thinking that I was breaking up with her, and the whole time I was thinking I was making a good argument for marriage. So when I finally concluded with “Will you marry me?” Jean was confused and shocked. There was this long silence on the phone and I was scared that she was going to say “No”. So eventually I filled the silence with “If you’d like some time to think about it that would be okay.”
I guess the correct approach was “I love you. Will you marry me?”, but I didn’t think that was a compelling argument. I thought that if my only asset was love, then I was a pretty poor candidate for a partner in life. Oh well, hindsight is pretty good from here. John Lennon says, “All You Need Is Love”. I thought that was a given, like in math, and didn’t need to be said, but clearly I should have stated it up front.
After waiting an eternity for an answer on the phone, long distance no less, Jean eventually said yes, but it didn’t come out clearly amongst the sobbing and crying, so I asked her to say it again just to be sure.
Over the next 10 months we only saw each other a few times, like at Christmas and spring break. We got married on June 26, 1976. Nowadays our longest separations are when she leaves me to go see our grandchildren!
That’s my version of events.
Tom
June 2011
Wednesday, July 13, 2011
Ann Asks: How you and Mom met
This is a tough one. Memory fades over time. I had to ask Mom (Jean) for help to get this one right. (Any errors are mine.) We just celebrated our 35th wedding anniversary on June 26, 2011, so I suppose this one is worth revisiting.
Jean and I both went to Coe College. Jean started in the fall of 1969 and I started in the fall of 1970. Coe had a single computer course at that time, a time of punched cards and the IBM 1130 computer. I think Jean and I took the sole computer course in opposite semesters during the 1970-1971 academic year. Jean might have taken the course the year before. The point is we didn’t meet in class. We did have a couple math courses together later on, but that isn’t where we met.
It was the next academic year, during the fall of 1971 that we met. Jean was a junior and I was a sophomore. After having taken the computer class and doing well in it, Jean had gotten a job (work/study program?) operating the computer at night in the computer center. Students in the computer class would punch their programs into paper cards and submit them to Jean to be run through the computer. Jean operated the computer, cleared jams in the card reader, aborted programs that hung in infinite loops, and managed the line printer.
C. R. (Chuck) Nicolaysen was Registrar, Director of the Computer Center (a two room operation) and also taught some math classes as he was an ABD (all but dissertation) PHD candidate in mathematics. Nicolaysen was also coaching the distance guys on the track team and I’d been pestering the Registrar’s Office for a part-time job. Eventually Nicolaysen gave me a job as a night time computer operator and later as a tutor for the students taking the computer class. So Jean and I met when she was operating the computer at night and I was tutoring the computer students.
First Date
Jean says this was January 21, 1972 – her father’s birthday. Once again, Nicolaysen is involved. As I said before, Nicolaysen was coaching the distance guys on the track team. January was the beginning of the indoor track season, though the distance guys run year-round. Nicolaysen invited the distance guys over to his house for pizza and beer on January 21, 1972. What destitute underage college kid doesn’t like free beer and pizza? Count me in, Coach!
Nicolaysen had been gently twisting my arm to be the date of his college-age niece who was visiting that weekend. I was in the midst of gathering the courage to ask Jean to the pizza function during this period of verbal arm twisting. Eventually I persuaded freshman half-miler Ed Trimble to take on the role of host to the niece and convinced Jean to come with me. The rest is history, or I should say, the entire story is history.
Jean and I both went to Coe College. Jean started in the fall of 1969 and I started in the fall of 1970. Coe had a single computer course at that time, a time of punched cards and the IBM 1130 computer. I think Jean and I took the sole computer course in opposite semesters during the 1970-1971 academic year. Jean might have taken the course the year before. The point is we didn’t meet in class. We did have a couple math courses together later on, but that isn’t where we met.
It was the next academic year, during the fall of 1971 that we met. Jean was a junior and I was a sophomore. After having taken the computer class and doing well in it, Jean had gotten a job (work/study program?) operating the computer at night in the computer center. Students in the computer class would punch their programs into paper cards and submit them to Jean to be run through the computer. Jean operated the computer, cleared jams in the card reader, aborted programs that hung in infinite loops, and managed the line printer.
C. R. (Chuck) Nicolaysen was Registrar, Director of the Computer Center (a two room operation) and also taught some math classes as he was an ABD (all but dissertation) PHD candidate in mathematics. Nicolaysen was also coaching the distance guys on the track team and I’d been pestering the Registrar’s Office for a part-time job. Eventually Nicolaysen gave me a job as a night time computer operator and later as a tutor for the students taking the computer class. So Jean and I met when she was operating the computer at night and I was tutoring the computer students.
First Date
Jean says this was January 21, 1972 – her father’s birthday. Once again, Nicolaysen is involved. As I said before, Nicolaysen was coaching the distance guys on the track team. January was the beginning of the indoor track season, though the distance guys run year-round. Nicolaysen invited the distance guys over to his house for pizza and beer on January 21, 1972. What destitute underage college kid doesn’t like free beer and pizza? Count me in, Coach!
Nicolaysen had been gently twisting my arm to be the date of his college-age niece who was visiting that weekend. I was in the midst of gathering the courage to ask Jean to the pizza function during this period of verbal arm twisting. Eventually I persuaded freshman half-miler Ed Trimble to take on the role of host to the niece and convinced Jean to come with me. The rest is history, or I should say, the entire story is history.
Wednesday, July 6, 2011
Ann Asks: How you started going to Topsail Island, NC
Our first summer at the beach was in 1985, the year after our fathers died. (Harold Pedelty and Richard Francis Millen) Ann was four years old and John was one. Warren Southerland (running buddy) and Alice Southerland were familiar with Topsail Island, NC through Alice’s family. Alice’s family was from nearby Burgaw, NC, and used to go to Topsail with some frequency.
In 1985 Warren proposed to the core group of running buds that we rent a large beachfront house on Topsail Island for a week together. I think the group was the Carter, Lowrie, Southerland, and Millen couples plus their two kids each. We rented a 6 bedroom house. The adults got the four bedrooms on the main floor and the kids were bunked in the two bedrooms in the basement. (Connected by an outside walkway) I think John stayed in our bedroom because he was so young compared to the other kids. Jennie Southerland may have watched over Ann overnight with the other kids. Each of the four master bedrooms opened onto a large common room and kitchen where we all gathered for meals and beverages.
The idea was the guys would run in the morning before it got really hot, and then everyone would hit the surf throughout the day between meals.
It worked really well and everyone had a great time, but it wasn’t quite as much fun for Jean and I as it was for the other couples. We were the youngest couple and the only ones with munchkins. Ann was 4 and could walk, but wasn’t old enough to swim out in the surf. John was one year old, new to walking, and had to be watched constantly. Both had to be watched every second (a failure on my part) while all the other kids were old enough to take care of themselves. So if Jean wanted to hang-out with the ladies, I had to watch the kids, and if I wanted to body surf with the guys, Jean had to watch the kids.
In the summer of 1986 we rented a house at a New Jersey beach. My brother Bill was living in Trenton and made the arrangements. Brother Al and wife Joan and their munchkins Ida and Ray came. So did my mom. A good time was had by all, but I surely noticed how much colder the water was up in NJ.
One year (1988) we rented a duplex on the beach with the Southerlands and invited the grandmothers to come. Jean’s mom (Reva Pedelty) and my mom (Gladys Millen) came, and Warren’s mom (Billie Southerland) was also there. THAT was a vacation! TWO built-in grandmothers to help watch grandchildren and lend a hand in the kitchen is a REAL vacation.
It was either the next year or the year after that the Southerland’s had had enough of the beach and bowed out. Jean and I still loved Topsail Island, so we invited my brother Bill and Jean’s uncle, Carl Willford, to join us along with the Grandmothers. That remained our annual beach contingent through 1999, our last year at the beach.
Jean went through our inventory of pictures and it looks like we went to the beach in –
85 with the running buddies
86 in NJ with the Millen brothers and grandma M (Gladys)
87 with grandmothers
88 with grandmothers and Southerlands
90 with grandmothers and Bill
91 with grandmothers, Bill and Carl
92 with grandmothers, Bill and Carl
93 with grandmothers, Bill and Carl
95 with grandmothers, Bill and Carl
97 with grandmothers and Bill
98 with grandmothers and Bill
99 with grandmothers and Bill
89 was Jean’s 20th HS reunion in Iowa and Tom’s 15th Coe reunion in Iowa
94 was short trips to Chattanooga aquarium, Rock City, Lookout Mountain, Ruby Falls and Chatooga river rafting
96 was the Olympics in Atlanta (Carl died in December)
In 2000 Ann graduated from high school and headed off for summer training at West Point soon thereafter. Also, John had just finished his first year of high school in 2000 and his Dynamo swim coach, Hugh, said “Swimmers of John’s caliber don’t take vacations.” So Ann’s departure for West Point and John’s swim coach ended our trips to Topsail Beach. At that point our vacations turned into repeated trips to see Ann up at West Point, and following John to swim meets all over America.
In 1985 Warren proposed to the core group of running buds that we rent a large beachfront house on Topsail Island for a week together. I think the group was the Carter, Lowrie, Southerland, and Millen couples plus their two kids each. We rented a 6 bedroom house. The adults got the four bedrooms on the main floor and the kids were bunked in the two bedrooms in the basement. (Connected by an outside walkway) I think John stayed in our bedroom because he was so young compared to the other kids. Jennie Southerland may have watched over Ann overnight with the other kids. Each of the four master bedrooms opened onto a large common room and kitchen where we all gathered for meals and beverages.
The idea was the guys would run in the morning before it got really hot, and then everyone would hit the surf throughout the day between meals.
It worked really well and everyone had a great time, but it wasn’t quite as much fun for Jean and I as it was for the other couples. We were the youngest couple and the only ones with munchkins. Ann was 4 and could walk, but wasn’t old enough to swim out in the surf. John was one year old, new to walking, and had to be watched constantly. Both had to be watched every second (a failure on my part) while all the other kids were old enough to take care of themselves. So if Jean wanted to hang-out with the ladies, I had to watch the kids, and if I wanted to body surf with the guys, Jean had to watch the kids.
In the summer of 1986 we rented a house at a New Jersey beach. My brother Bill was living in Trenton and made the arrangements. Brother Al and wife Joan and their munchkins Ida and Ray came. So did my mom. A good time was had by all, but I surely noticed how much colder the water was up in NJ.
One year (1988) we rented a duplex on the beach with the Southerlands and invited the grandmothers to come. Jean’s mom (Reva Pedelty) and my mom (Gladys Millen) came, and Warren’s mom (Billie Southerland) was also there. THAT was a vacation! TWO built-in grandmothers to help watch grandchildren and lend a hand in the kitchen is a REAL vacation.
It was either the next year or the year after that the Southerland’s had had enough of the beach and bowed out. Jean and I still loved Topsail Island, so we invited my brother Bill and Jean’s uncle, Carl Willford, to join us along with the Grandmothers. That remained our annual beach contingent through 1999, our last year at the beach.
Jean went through our inventory of pictures and it looks like we went to the beach in –
85 with the running buddies
86 in NJ with the Millen brothers and grandma M (Gladys)
87 with grandmothers
88 with grandmothers and Southerlands
90 with grandmothers and Bill
91 with grandmothers, Bill and Carl
92 with grandmothers, Bill and Carl
93 with grandmothers, Bill and Carl
95 with grandmothers, Bill and Carl
97 with grandmothers and Bill
98 with grandmothers and Bill
99 with grandmothers and Bill
89 was Jean’s 20th HS reunion in Iowa and Tom’s 15th Coe reunion in Iowa
94 was short trips to Chattanooga aquarium, Rock City, Lookout Mountain, Ruby Falls and Chatooga river rafting
96 was the Olympics in Atlanta (Carl died in December)
In 2000 Ann graduated from high school and headed off for summer training at West Point soon thereafter. Also, John had just finished his first year of high school in 2000 and his Dynamo swim coach, Hugh, said “Swimmers of John’s caliber don’t take vacations.” So Ann’s departure for West Point and John’s swim coach ended our trips to Topsail Beach. At that point our vacations turned into repeated trips to see Ann up at West Point, and following John to swim meets all over America.
Monday, July 4, 2011
2011 Peachtree Road Race
The first three miles, all downhill, was 21:40. I knew I would pay for it later, but it was so easy and effortless, it seemed illogical to make an effort to go slower. I was just running the speed that the downhill grade permitted.
The second three miles, mostly uphill, was 23:18. It felt like I was paying for all my past sins. I cannot describe the depth and breadth of my agony. My mind was a bottomless pit of despair as I never saw the 4-mile mark, or the 5-mile mark, which might have given me some glimmer of hope that the pain would be finite.
At the 6-mile mark I saw a seeded runner collapsed on the side of the road receiving aid from a medic. I envied him as his misery was over.
Yeah, it was that good.
The mile plus walk/jog uphill to the Marta station was icing on the cake.
The mile minus walk/jog back to the car from the Buckhead station told me I am not in good enough shape to be running a 46:26.
The second three miles, mostly uphill, was 23:18. It felt like I was paying for all my past sins. I cannot describe the depth and breadth of my agony. My mind was a bottomless pit of despair as I never saw the 4-mile mark, or the 5-mile mark, which might have given me some glimmer of hope that the pain would be finite.
At the 6-mile mark I saw a seeded runner collapsed on the side of the road receiving aid from a medic. I envied him as his misery was over.
Yeah, it was that good.
The mile plus walk/jog uphill to the Marta station was icing on the cake.
The mile minus walk/jog back to the car from the Buckhead station told me I am not in good enough shape to be running a 46:26.
Friday, July 1, 2011
Ann Asks: How you and the running guys got together
I started running in the fall of 1967 when I joined my high school cross country team in an effort to get in shape for the wrestling season. The concept of specializing in a single sport in high school and year-round training in that sport was just in its infancy. There were no facilities, clubs, or organizations that offered year-round wrestling for high school kids. I’d heard apocryphal stories about someone who knew someone whose parents had bought wrestling mats for their sons and set up a workout room in their basement, but nobody knew these people firsthand. I didn’t know of anyone with a wrestling mat, and didn’t know anyone who wrestled during the offseason, so I ran when I wasn’t wrestling and wrestled when I wasn’t running. By the time I got to college I’d transferred my fanaticism from wrestling to running, and had colleagues willing to run with me throughout the year.
When I graduated from college in May of 1974 I’d been running for roughly 7 years. I started a job in Marion Iowa on the Monday after graduation. I’d been in organized sports my entire life and suddenly I was without a team and had no sport to pursue. I was lost. I gave up running altogether for several months, and then ran sporadically after that. There weren’t many track or road races for non-elite runners back then, so there didn’t seem to be much point.
I moved to the Atlanta area in 1975 to work for Emory University and it was more of the same. I was listless. All I had was my job, and I didn’t know anybody, and I didn’t have any hobbies. I wasn’t a member of a team anymore, so I didn’t have a team of guys to socialize with.
Nicolaysen, my boss, recognized this fairly quickly and told me I needed to find an avocation to balance against my vocation. My job was good, he said, but I needed to have more than that in my life. He said I needed a diversion, a distraction, a hobby. It could be anything; one thing, or several things would do, but he observed that I had enjoyed running once upon a time, and that might fill the void in my life. So I started going to Stone Mountain Park to run a couple days a week after work.
Running was still a rare activity back in those days, so I rarely saw anyone running at the park, but one evening I saw two guys about my age that appeared to be headed out to run. I asked if I could tag along, and they agreed. They introduced themselves as Greg Jordan and Billy Savage.
I couldn’t keep up because I’d been running so rarely, but they told me they ran every weekday from the same starting point at 5pm and I was welcome to join them any time. I did join them with increasing frequency and was eventually able to keep up and go the entire distance. Over time Greg introduced me to every trail in the 3200 acre park.
Greg and Billy also told me about a group of guys who met at 7:30 on Saturday and Sunday mornings at the park for long runs. Eventually I got up the courage to join these fanatics, and they became my teammates in the running pursuit. Mike Anderson, Ben Burr, Joe Carter, Debbie Carter, Mark Erb, Dave Eve, Mitch Ferrell, Larry Giddings, Marvin Hodge, Greg Jordan, Eugene Klibinoff, Randy Kuykendall, Hal Leeuwenburg, Mike Lowrie, Gordon Maner, Robin Porter, Mike Pratt, Scott Raymond, Jean Richardson, Jesus Romero, Tom Shinnick, Warren Southerland, Dave Stiles, Wes Wessely, Rita Wilhoite, Tim Willis, Gale Wood and a host of high school and college kids have been my training partners and friends over the years.
So now it is 36 years later and I am still running with the Stone Mountain enclave on Saturday and Sunday mornings. We are fewer in number (3-4 most mornings) and less able than before, but our competitive and argumentative natures persist. Actually, we never argued. We simply engaged in enthusiastic discussions and called each other names like “Dumbass”, but we always said it with great affection.
And that’s all I have to say about that.
Tom Millen
June 2011
When I graduated from college in May of 1974 I’d been running for roughly 7 years. I started a job in Marion Iowa on the Monday after graduation. I’d been in organized sports my entire life and suddenly I was without a team and had no sport to pursue. I was lost. I gave up running altogether for several months, and then ran sporadically after that. There weren’t many track or road races for non-elite runners back then, so there didn’t seem to be much point.
I moved to the Atlanta area in 1975 to work for Emory University and it was more of the same. I was listless. All I had was my job, and I didn’t know anybody, and I didn’t have any hobbies. I wasn’t a member of a team anymore, so I didn’t have a team of guys to socialize with.
Nicolaysen, my boss, recognized this fairly quickly and told me I needed to find an avocation to balance against my vocation. My job was good, he said, but I needed to have more than that in my life. He said I needed a diversion, a distraction, a hobby. It could be anything; one thing, or several things would do, but he observed that I had enjoyed running once upon a time, and that might fill the void in my life. So I started going to Stone Mountain Park to run a couple days a week after work.
Running was still a rare activity back in those days, so I rarely saw anyone running at the park, but one evening I saw two guys about my age that appeared to be headed out to run. I asked if I could tag along, and they agreed. They introduced themselves as Greg Jordan and Billy Savage.
I couldn’t keep up because I’d been running so rarely, but they told me they ran every weekday from the same starting point at 5pm and I was welcome to join them any time. I did join them with increasing frequency and was eventually able to keep up and go the entire distance. Over time Greg introduced me to every trail in the 3200 acre park.
Greg and Billy also told me about a group of guys who met at 7:30 on Saturday and Sunday mornings at the park for long runs. Eventually I got up the courage to join these fanatics, and they became my teammates in the running pursuit. Mike Anderson, Ben Burr, Joe Carter, Debbie Carter, Mark Erb, Dave Eve, Mitch Ferrell, Larry Giddings, Marvin Hodge, Greg Jordan, Eugene Klibinoff, Randy Kuykendall, Hal Leeuwenburg, Mike Lowrie, Gordon Maner, Robin Porter, Mike Pratt, Scott Raymond, Jean Richardson, Jesus Romero, Tom Shinnick, Warren Southerland, Dave Stiles, Wes Wessely, Rita Wilhoite, Tim Willis, Gale Wood and a host of high school and college kids have been my training partners and friends over the years.
So now it is 36 years later and I am still running with the Stone Mountain enclave on Saturday and Sunday mornings. We are fewer in number (3-4 most mornings) and less able than before, but our competitive and argumentative natures persist. Actually, we never argued. We simply engaged in enthusiastic discussions and called each other names like “Dumbass”, but we always said it with great affection.
And that’s all I have to say about that.
Tom Millen
June 2011
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)