I was honorably discharged from the United States Air Force in December 1968. I started college in January under the GI Bill (military tuition).  I went to college thinking that I would major in business, make a lot of money, follow all the rules of society, and live happily ever after. I could not see myself living in the dormitory with a bunch of teenagers, many who were avoiding the draft. I was able to get a room off campus with a lady who had a son in college, and she treated me like a younger brother. She said, “I can’t remember your name, so I am going to call you Bubblegum.”

She had done well with her money. She owned a lot of property. She worked two jobs back to back and spent most of her off time at home asleep. I used her car to shop for her, fix her dinner, and pick her up from one job and take her to the next one. Her son was busy being a teenager. She had bought him a brand new gold 225 Buick.  Earlier veterans had not done so well paying their tuition and we had to pay on time and wait for reimbursement. She would advance my tuition when I needed it.

I avoided early morning classes because I had to walk a distance. One of the few days that she was not asleep, she struck up a conversation about family. I told her I hated my mother. I had been told my whole life that she tried to starve me to death and gave me away. She said, “Sometimes mothers have to make tough sacrifices. She did what she did so that five children could survive. She knew that her mother-in-law would take care of her grand-children. Where would you be now had she not done that? She did all of that for you.” I cried uncontrollable. We grew closer and I started to call her Sweet Pea. The next time I went home I asked my mother to forgive me. We grew closer than ever.

It was difficult in the beginning, but I spent most of my free time studying. I was able to do this because I was 22 years old, and there to get an education. I spent time with upper classmen to find out what they were majoring in. While doing so I met a young lady around my age who commuted to school early in the morning with her father who worked at the meat packing company. The auditorium was open for early attendees, and she would be just awakening when I got to school.  I used to listen to her talk about social work and how fulfilling it was to her. This was my first experience learning about the last, least, and the lost. I quickly forgot about making a lot of money and wanted to care for others.