In the country side where I grew up, a high school student's
greatest goal was to work the farm like his dad, get married and have
lots of little farmers. Sixteen of us graduated from high school, not
including two boys that had to leave in April for spring planting and
one girl who got married. One girl and one boy (myself) succeeded in
going to college. My grandparents were (relatively) rich but my
parents had little money, certainly not enough to send me to college. I
loved science and after winning the Bauch and Lomb Science Award, I
wanted to be a physicist. My mother read in the newspaper that the
S.A.T.s were to be held in a movie theater in the next town, the three
top scorers in the state qualifying for State Scholarships. Our high
school was perhaps one of the smallest in the state, borrowing most of
their teachers from nearby Pennsylvania. In spite of lacking courses in
calculus, logic, and higher mathematics, I braved the test anyway.
Three weeks later the announcement arrived that I had won the third
place spot in the state and would be able to attend Rutgers University,
tuition free! After all the jumping and celebrating, we planned how I
could afford the room, board, and books. A spot opened on the
cafeteria staff of the sister college, Douglas University for Women,
providing me with room and board money. I was to serve the college
girls coffee and hot chocolate from six thirty until eight AM every
week day. Used books were available from the local book store in town.
The only fly in the ointment was the Physics class, my major. At the
end of the year, I was called into the Dean's office and informed that
my grade in Physics was too low (though passing) to retain my
scholarship and I would have to pay tuition the second year. I pleaded
that since the physics building was located a mile away, the classes
were shortened to forty minutes. I just didn't have enough time to
complete the two semester theory tests in time. My professor asked us
to solve three theories. I solved one and completed the second but ran
out of time for the third theory. I was just too slow. Calculators
would have helped, but they weren't invented yet. These sixty six per
cent grades brought down my fours in the rest of the tests. I was
successful in ROTC training, entering a weapons handling contest and
winning first place handily. I also joined the track team and went on
field trips with the Rutgers Photographic Club. Well, the Dean
gave me another chance, if I would agree to go to summer school for
advanced mathematics. I also changed my major to Geology, but Physics
was still a requirement. The summer school was held in some old World
War II Quansett huts, the temperature rising to one hundred degrees in
the afternoon. I also found time for photographing children which
insured the cost of my books for my Sophomore year. My worst fears were
realized when I read my courses the next year. They duplicated my
Freshman year courses: Scientific German II, American History II and
Physics II. All featured the same professors. The physics classes were
held in the same temporary building as last year (the new one was being
built) and the same interview with the Dean resulted. But this time it
was final. No scholarship. Back at home, a talk with my dad
revealed that my education was last on his list (his words) and grandma
would not donate one penny much less four thousand dollars. And this
for her oldest grandson who was named (middle names of Charles Virgil)
after her husband and great grandfather. She said that they wouldn't
dare touch the principle, since they still had two homes to support and
the country club and all. Now don't get the idea that I am at all
bitter about this fiasco, just disappointed that I didn't get to
finish. Plan B, which was to be a professional photographer worked out
fine. A retired portrait photographer living with my wife and a cat in New Jersey.
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