APRIL-MAY 1968, senior year, age 18

forced to face unreality alone
 

My parking lot encounter with Mrs. Ballantyne took place in late March 1968.  Curiously enough, I did not speak to her again during the final two months of the school year.  It was my own fault.  I had all sorts of questions to ask her, but I was too shy to actually track her down.  Instead I assumed our paths would cross in the hallway and give me an excuse to begin a conversation.  By the time I realized I would have to take matters into my own hands, she was nowhere to be seen.   Mrs. Ballantyne's disappearance drove me a little crazy because all my questions went unanswered.  In Hindsight, I wonder if we were kept apart for a Cosmic Purpose.  Mrs. Ballantyne was the only person I would have trusted enough to seek advice regarding the mystical elements of our chance meeting.  Instead her absence forced me to evaluate what had taken place all by myself. 

Maybe that was the point all along.  Left to my own thoughts, I don't have the words to explain how confused I was.  It wasn't just Maria Ballantyne.  Don't forget Bob Franklin, the boy who caught me cheating in a highly improbable way.  Faced with these startling back-to-back coincidences, my previous view of Reality had been assaulted in a way best described as an asteroid striking earth.  As we shall see, the Universe was not done rearranging my mind.  There were several very unsettling surprises awaiting me soon. 

The next event was my college scholarship.  Just in case I was not sufficiently confused after meeting Mrs. Ballantyne, in mid-April I was handed an unexpected college scholarship in a manner eerily similar to Mrs. Ballantyne's benevolent gangster.  A wealthy oilman who did not know me from Adam decided to pay my way to college.

APRIL 1968, final week of high school at st. john's

the SECRET PIPELINE
 

Before we begin our next story, let's have a little chat.  The Kierkegaard quote is perfect because it helps explain why this has not been the easiest book for me to write.  There is an old saying, "Time will Tell."  What this means to me is that certain events gain in importance as the eventual Impact becomes more clear.  So here is my problem.  I first told the story of my college scholarship in Chapter Two.  I was 18 at the time.  40 years later, age 68, I learned the inside story of what took place behind my back.  If I were to use chronological order, we might get to this interesting revelation somewhere around Chapter 200.  What this means is you would have to read two or three more books before we reached the new information.  How much of the original story would you remember?  My guess is not much.  For example, how much do you remember from Chapter Two?  Here we are six chapters later and the details are already fuzzy.

Oh, how quickly we doth forget.  Here is my point.  Without the use of Hindsight, this book would not make a bit of sense.  For that reason, whenever there is additional information gleaned further down the road, I prefer to comment immediately while the details are fresh in the Reader's mind.  First I explain my life as I lived it forward, then I turn around and explain the same story from the point of view of what I learned later.  I feel fortunate to be in my 70s as I write.  Many of the events I describe only began to make sense much further down the road.  However, at the same time it must be disconcerting to encounter two totally different versions of Rick Archer.  In a sense, there are two writers.  One is a hapless fool who stumbles from one misadventure to the next.  The other is the wise old man who often breaks in to to put things in perspective via the gift of Hindsight.  I realize my style must be confusing at times, but I hope you don't mind.  Now let's find out what really happened in the story of my college scholarship. 

APRIL 1968, final week of high school at st. john's

the SECRET PIPELINE
 

There was a mystery regarding my scholarship to Johns Hopkins that took me 40 years to solve.  Guess who helped me solve it?  My friend Maria Ballantyne.  Something very important took place behind my back during my Senior year of high school, but I completely missed it at the time.  Upon my discovery of the truth 40 years later, I was bewildered to understand why it took me so long to see something that now seemed so painfully obvious. 

There are two possible explanations for my 1968 ignorance.  The Realistic explanation is that I was young and stupid.  The Supernatural explanation is that I was deliberately blinded by the Universe to the truth.  I have previously hinted at a pet theory I refer to as 'Cosmic Blindness'.  Let's say God wishes to teach us a lesson.  What simpler way than to suspend our better judgment and allow us to make a colossal mistake?  A good example would be my decision to cheat on the German test.  I paid an enormous price for that mistake.

There is stupidity and there is STUPIDITY.  I am not stupid.  But there have been times when I have behaved in a stupid fashion.  Witness the German test decision.  For that matter, my mother was not stupid.  And yet this intelligent woman failed to take me to the doctor for three and a half days after my overnight acne attack.  What if it was my Fate to have that acne attack?  What if it was my Fate to have extreme scarring?  This is not a pleasant thought, but I think it is true.  I believe there will be times when God deliberately suspends our common sense to allow a mistake to occur.  As it turns out, I know someone who probably agrees with me. 

"Talent and intelligence will not inoculate anyone against the caprice of the fates.  Humans have a curious knack for choosing precisely the things that are worst for them."  -- J.K. Rowling

When Mrs. Ballantyne confirmed my suspicions in 2009, it was embarrassing to realize I labored my entire Senior year under a major cloud of confusion.  Not just that, but I could have avoided the worst year of my life were it not for my giant Blind Spot.  I am completely serious.  Had I known the truth that Mr. Salls had arranged a college scholarship for me, Senior Year would have been a piece of cake.  Unfortunately, due to my ignorance, Senior Year turned into a crisis.   So I asked myself a question.  What would be the Cosmic purpose of blinding me to the truth?  The answer came quickly: Suffering. Learning. Fate.

I believe Senior Year was meant to be my Darkest Day.  Perhaps I was forced to endure an endless series of hardships as a way to prepare me for my eventual mission in life.  This is all speculation of course.  That said, if it is true my Suffering had a purpose, then the easiest way to accomplish it would be to infect me with a serious case of Cosmic Blindness.

My Blind Spot developed in the third week of my Senior year when Mr. Salls called me into his office.  I was there to discuss my college preferences.  To my astonishment, Mr. Salls totally ignored my stated desire to attend Georgetown.  Not only did Mr. Salls completely ignore Georgetown, he insisted that I apply to Johns Hopkins, a college I had never heard of.  The moment I discovered it was a men's-only school, there was no way I was interested.  Given that I never had a single date in high school, the thought of going to a men's school was out of the question.  Sensing my reluctance, Mr. Salls took the extraordinary step of asking me to apply to Hopkins anyway as a favor to him.  I agreed to do so, but why was he bullying me?

The answer was simple.  Mr. Salls had secretly arranged a full scholarship to Johns Hopkins, but he could not tell me.  According to Mrs. Ballantyne, Mr. Salls had a standing agreement with Ralph O'Connor to send one student per year on scholarship to Hopkins, a pipeline of sorts.  Do I have proof?  No, but I have a great deal of circumstantial evidence. 

For starters, I had met two former SJS students at Hopkins.  Doug was a 1966 SJS graduate, Charles was a 1967 SJS graduate.  Given what I know about both young men, they were quite likely SJS scholarship recipients who needed Mr. O'Connor's help just like I did.  I believe each year Mr. Salls would recommend a student.  If the student was needy, Mr. O'Connor would turn around and make sure Hopkins would grant a scholarship.  So who would their candidate be for 1968?  According to Mrs. Ballantyne, Mr. Salls knew my precarious financial situation long before my Senior year started.  I assume he picked up the phone and called his good friend Ralph O'Connor.  I imagine the conversation went something like this...

"Listen, Ralph, I have a very good student who is perfect for your school.  This young man has been with us for nine years and I know him well.  He has good grades, good SAT scores, and studies hard.  I am positive he can handle the academics at Hopkins.

In addition, this boy works his tail off.  I have information from Ed Curran, one of our teachers here, that this young man is really worried about college finances.  In fact, he has been working a grocery job after school for the past two and a half years due to trouble at home.  In all my time at St. John's, I have never heard of a student going to these lengths.

Confidentially, this boy has the most screwed up parents of any student we have ever had at this school.  There is no way this boy can afford to go to your school without a scholarship.  Do you think you can help him?"

Suspicious

Serious

So what do I mean by a Blind Spot, or "Cosmic Blindness" as I sometimes refer to it? 

I did not see the Hopkins scholarship as a coincidence.  Based on what Mrs. Ballantyne shared in 2009, I saw my scholarship as an incredible Lucky Break handed to me by a man who saw a kid who reminded him of himself and decided to do me a huge favor.  What I did see as 'Supernatural' was my inability to put two and two together.  Clue #1 was my Headmaster's absurd attempt to interest me in a men's school and totally ignore Georgetown, my fondest hope.  Clue #2 came when my cheating incident was overlooked (probably to protect my scholarship).  Clue #3 was losing the Jones Scholarship to a girl from a wealthy family.  It never dawned on me that Salls might have something better waiting for me.  Instead I interpreted my loss as punishment for cheating.  Clue #4 came when Mr. Salls seemed angry at me on the day he handed me Mr. O'Connor's business card.  He behaved like he was reluctant to give me the phone number.  This tricked me into thinking this was all O'Connor's doing and Salls was simply relaying the information.  Clue #5 came when Ralph O'Connor asked me to describe my difficult home situation.  I gave him a 5-minute sob story and he turned around and handed me a scholarship worth $143,000 in 2024 money.  Clearly all I did was confirm something Salls had told him, but I completely missed that.  I thought he acted strictly on my story. 

MAY 1968, final week of high school at st. john's

the curse of MR. Murphy
 

Mr. Murphy was Dean of the Upper School.  It was his job to enforce the rules.  What did we argue about?  Late to class, out of uniform, out of bounds, running in the hall, failure to show proper respect while we argued.  Mostly we argued about my long hair.  He would tell me to get it cut and I would ignore him.  He would tell me again, I would ignore him again and Murphy would be unduly outraged.  Fuming, he would send me to Penalty Hall on Saturday morning for disobedience.  Murphy thought he was punishing me.  Yes, for any normal kid with a life, giving up valuable weekend time would be punishment.  But not me.  I spent the morning doing homework, then went to my Saturday grocery store job which started at noon.

Murphy never quite caught on that I did not mind going to Penalty Hall.  To me it was a minor inconvenience.  If he had forbidden me to do homework, then he would have truly gained the upper hand.  But since he never figured it out, I continued to give free rein to my impudence.  I doubt St. John's keeps records on Penalty Hall detentions, but if so I am sure I hold the record.

Here is the strange thing.  Murphy threatened to suspend me many times, but he never followed through.  Lord knows I gave him enough reason.  Murphy knew about the cheating incident.  So what stopped him?  My theory is that Mr. Salls, the Headmaster, overruled him.  Why?  Because Mr. Salls was secretly holding a scholarship that might go down the drain if I got suspended.  What college wants a kid convicted of cheating?  Each time Mr. Salls let me off the hook, Murphy's sense of justice was deeply offended. 

By the time I was ready to graduate, Murphy's hostility was off the charts.  The feeling was mutual.  Towards the end of the year, I was at my wits end.  Fed up with spending nearly every Saturday morning at Penalty Hall, Murphy became the lightning rod for all my unfocused anger.  I felt like he went out of his way to track me down once a week, sometimes twice.  I was leaving for college soon, so Murphy was going to get his final licks in.    Murphy was determined to bend me to his will and I was determined not to cooperate.  I did not help things by defying him.

"Archer, your continued insolence is disgraceful.  You think disobeying me is amusing, but I have something to tell you.

You have brought dishonor to this school.  Your continued disregard for the rules is unforgivable.  Let me add your ongoing impertinence towards me has demonstrated a complete lack of respect for my authority. 

If I had my way, you would have had your scholarship revoked long ago.  You don't deserve it.  In my opinion, you should have been sent packing long ago.  You do not belong here at this school.  Your lack of discipline makes it clear that you do not respect the gift St. John's has given you.  You should be ashamed of yourself for your glaring absence of gratitude.

I predict you will one day regret that you failed to learn your lesson.  You will leave here thinking you are too superior to follow the rules, but I have news for you.  Someday in college you will learn the hard way you are not nearly as clever as you think.  You will argue with the wrong person and it will cost you more dearly than you can ever imagine. 

Mark my words.  At that time, you will remember what I said today."

Shaken by the strength of his venom, for the first time all year I did not talk back.  I was very intimidated by his outburst.  Seeing the fear in my face, Murphy gave a smile of triumph, then stomped off.  Indeed, Mr. Murphy's warning had struck home.  I was very worried his Curse would come true some day (and it did). 

Plain and simple, Mr. Murphy brought out the worst in me.  I had my good side and my bad side. Whenever I was not angry at the world, I was basically a good kid.  Every one of my St. John's teachers appreciated me.  Not only did I work hard in their class, I was polite and showed infinite respect.  But whenever Murphy was around, I turned into a jerk with a big mouth.  I realize my Readers would prefer to think I was beyond reproach, but what can I say?  I was a deeply unhappy, very lonely, deeply flawed kid. 

Incidentally, you have my word that if I ever meet Mr. Murphy in Valhalla, I fully intend to apologize for my terrible behavior.

2009

MARIA BALLANTYNE HAS THE FINAL WORD

"Yes, I know, Mrs. Ballantyne, and thank you.  But I also wish I could find a way to repay him for keeping me glued together.  If anyone can understand what I mean, it would be you.  On the day I graduated, I was a very disturbed young man.  You have no idea the depth of the problems I faced in college.  Although I managed to graduate from college without getting into any trouble, I suffered terribly from emotional problems.  The loneliness was unbearable at times.

My memory of St. John's is what kept me going.  St. John's taught me to compete.  St. John's taught me to persist.  Based on my time at St. John's, I knew I had talent.  During my darkest days at Hopkins I clung to that thought like a life ring in the ocean.  Every time doubts of my value or my ability crept into my mind, I reminded myself that for nine years at St. John's I held my own with the best and brightest. 

I am successful now, but during my difficult college years, St. John's functioned like the North Star.  I knew if I could just find a way to solve my problems and gain some confidence around people my own age, I had a lot to offer.  But how I was ever going to quit hating myself and the rest of the world so much?  During college, my problems seemed insurmountable." 

Mrs. Ballantyne nodded sympathetically.

"Considering how bitter you were, it is amazing to me you didn't end up in Montana writing a manifesto to justify why you decided to bomb innocent people.  I am so grateful you turned out differently than these young fools today who think their problems can be solved by hurting others.  Boo hoo hoo, so life is tough!  Get over it!  Instead these morons go to a school and murder defenseless children.  What does that accomplish?  Considering your troubles, how did you manage to come out okay?"

"I would never hurt St. John's like those monsters at Columbine.  I would not dream of it.  Like you said, St. John's gave me a fighting chance in life.  Hard work, persistence, ambition, desire for achievement.  St. John's taught me that.  Quitting was not an option.  It was the men who ran the school who made the difference.  Mr. Chidsey gave me a scholarship, Mr. Curran invited me to his home for long talks and now I find out that Mr. Salls trusted there was more to me than my awful behavior.  That probably explains why he took such a gentle approach.  Yes, I was a bitter kid, but not towards St. John's.  I loved my school with all my heart."

Mrs. Ballantyne nodded.  "I wish so much Charlie could be here today to hear you say that.  He would be so pleased to know he did the right thing to go to bat for you when you kept getting into trouble.  However, Charlie was not the only person who kept track of you."

"What do you mean?" I responded.   

"Charlie gave me the feeling that several people kept a close eye on you throughout your years at the school.  A good teacher always knows more than they let on, but they learn to keep a poker face about it.  In your case, I think Charlie Salls and several other instructors cared about you more than you will ever knew.  However, they went out of their way to conceal how worried they were.  You were dealing with highly talented men and women who made St. John's a very special place.  They were deeply committed educators who believed their role went beyond merely imparting knowledge.  They wouldn't be any good at their job if they couldn't see how disturbed you were. 

People like Mr. Salls, Mr. Chidsey and Mr. Curran reached the conclusion that for you to make a contribution later in life, someone needed to intercede on your behalf.  Since your parents weren't getting the job done, they decided to handle things their own way.  Unfortunately Charlie was in a tough spot.  He could not show public favoritism in any way.  Nor could he hand you a crying towel.  That wasn't his nature.  He was a very reserved man who preferred to operate completely out of sight.  But there can be no doubt that Charlie cared deeply about you.  His actions make that clear."

"As always, Mrs. Ballantyne, I appreciate you.  Without what you told me tonight, I would have never realized Mr. Salls was the most important benefactor of my entire childhood."

Mrs. Ballantyne gave me a big smile, then glanced at her watch. 

"I've enjoyed this talk, but it's getting late.  One more thing before I go.  You remind me so much of my brother George sometimes.  He said the exact same thing about Texas A&M giving him a fighting chance and look what he accomplished.  Good for him and good for you.  You know what, I have an idea.  Why don't you write a book about your years at St. John's?  You have quite a story to tell."

I smiled.  "You know what?  I might just do that someday."