****HIKED SKIRTS AND HEMLOCK !!!!!****

What follows is a true story. I was there when it happened. So no one is offended---there is some mild sexual content. Today, it would probably get a PG-13 rating. 

                                         HIKED SKIRTS AND HEMLOCK

I have never owned a farm in Africa, but I was once 18 years old. As an underclassman at Purdue University, Government 101 was part of my required course of study. This class along with a handful of others defined, shaped and molded my core beliefs about the basic influences in life.

When I entered the Govt 101 classroom for the very first time I was overwhelmed by what I saw. Never in my young sheltered life had I observed such a constellation of so many beautiful women---Miss Americas one and all! They all sat on the first row of desks and seemed a cookie cutter duplicate of the woman on either side. Same hairstyles, look-a-like skirts (then slacks and jeans could not be worn by women to class at Purdue) similar blouses, socks and shoes. Most wore their sorority pins as a billboard of social achievement and availability.

Our professor was a strikingly handsome young man of about 30 years of age: Rumor had it his completely snow white hair was earned as a result of serving as an Army Company Commander in Korea---that stalemated conflict was less than a decade in the past.

He spent the majority of our initial classes reviewing what he expected in our In-Class Blue Book examinations. He distributed some mimeographed samples of good writing. He was an old-fashioned, true believing boxing fan---Yes, Virginia there was once a real sport called boxing. Consequently, it was boxing, not government that served as sample examination content. Grammar, punctuation, and spelling was absolute. (Don’t leave me now Lucille!)

His proof case for correct spelling accuracy was the important word “Public.” The good professor said, “Leave the “L” out and you have a whole different word with a whole different meaning.” Low, embarrassed laughing started in the front of the class and like a Hoosier tsunami to the back of the room where I sat---like any good Baptist! Did I just hear what I think I heard? Purdue was more conservative than near-by Norte Dame. In fact, a Catholic friend said that Purdue had more Catholic students than Norte Dame! Remember, this was in the ‘50’s not today.

I must admit the next incident is based on frequent observations by other students rather than scientific record keeping. It was widely rumored the Cary Grant looking professor was dating one of the front room beauties. If either are still alive, they would probably deny this---when he looked in her direction she would give her skirt a gentle upward tug. Wow! This observation and several others confirmed to me I was a long way from Graham Creek in southern Indiana! {A special comment  to younger readers: I strongly suspect your parents and/or grandparents at 18 shared my innocence---and we dealt with the same internal thoughts and desires that you have experienced. That does not make anyone better or worse---it does say that all of us have more of a common past than we, are you, will admit.)

When the course material started in earnest, it flew at hyper-speed. For the first time I was introduced to Plato, Socrates, Aristotle, Voltaire, Bacon, Hume, J.S. Mill, Plutarch,  Cicero, Jefferson, and many, many more. Until I took this class I thought the Federalist Papers was the morning and evening edition of Washington, D.C. newspapers. What I read amazed and astonished me.

Enter the first Blue Book in-class examination. I got a “D” with a red note that said that I would flunk the class unless there was a major improvement in the remaining Blue Books. What happened next remains inexplicable to me?

Was it Divine Intervention? Maybe a delayed neurological development? Perhaps it was the fear of facing my sacrificing parents seeing an “F” on my grade report. Throughout grade school at Lovett and at Paris Crossing High School my folks always purchased new text books for me. This was a major, major outlay then.

Whatever the reason, I launched deeper into a world I had never visited before. Earlier, I thought the class reading assignments were written by musty old men in musty old books filed on a musty old library shelf. Hey, to use a more modern expression: These Dudes had it altogether and all they needed was a haircut and shave!

What a revelation to learn these musty old guys read the Declaration of Independence and Constitution hundreds of years before either was even written!  Topics such as natural rights, democracy, representative republics, duties of government leaders and citizens greatly concerned them Then and is no less important Now.

Paul Harvey was not the only one concerned about The Rest of the Story: I aced the remaining Blue Books and got an “A” in the course. The Hemlock? Google Socrates and you’ll know the rest of my story.

Glenn <><

Just West of Yesterday