I know July 4th has come and gone – our nation’s 250th birthday. 250 years is a long time – we just cannot relegate our celebration this year to just one day. In that spirit, I want to tell you about a man named John. He was my brother’s partner for 36 years. He died several weeks ago.
John grew up in poverty in West Virginia. He was the eldest of six children. His home did not have an indoor bathroom. During John’s growing-up years, the family could not afford the decorations for a Christmas tree. When John was about to graduate high school, he told his parents he was going to college. His daddy was so disappointed John was not immediately going into the workforce that he barely spoke to him for several years.
John worked his way through undergraduate school, earning a bachelor’s degree in music education. It was the late sixties and the war in Viet Nam was raging. Uncle Sam sent John a notice telling him that his services were required. After basic and some specialized training, John was assigned as a recorder, sort of like a court reporter, in Viet Nam. This assignment required him to go into areas where alleged atrocities had occurred and record the testimony of witnesses as to what had happened. After being discharged, he taught music at the American Military School, Supreme Headquarters, in Belgium.
John returned home to West Virginia, taking a public school music job. Upon receiving his first paycheck, John used the money to have an indoor bathroom installed in his parents’ home. That first Christmas back home, John bought decorations and his younger siblings enjoyed their first Christmas tree. John attended night classes and earned a master’s degree in music education. He would later be awarded a PhD.
The poverty-stricken area of West Virginia was too confining for John. John wanted more out of life than that area could offer. So, in 1973, John accepted a public-school music job in Charleston, South Carolina. He taught at the Fort Johnson Middle School, where he was the band director, for 27 years. For several years, John was named Teacher of the Year, and his bands were often recognized in state competitions. John had a drawer full of letters from former students thanking him for instilling in them a love of music. After retiring from teaching, John engaged in the real estate business for fifteen years.
In addition to his work in education and real estate, John contributed his time and talents to his church and the Charleston Historical Preservation Society.
I saw on a table in the church at John’s memorial service photographs of John standing on the Great Wall of China, of John riding a camel in Morocco, of John in St. Peter’s in Rome, of John in Scotland, of John with his arms out stretched baton in hand directing his band, of John in his Range Rover convertible with the top flopped, and on and on.
So why am I telling you John’s story? What does it have to do with our nation’s birthday? John did not attain nor want fame and fortune. He wanted and attained a good life and was able to contribute to others seeking a good life. I am telling you this story as it is a story of the American Dream realized. It is a story of the American Promise kept. We have to wonder where John got his inspiration to pursue the American Dream. Where he got his resolve to claim the American Promise. The best I can gather, it came from a schoolteacher and his grandmother. I hope there are teachers hearing John’s story. I hope there are grandmothers hearing John’s story. I hope it makes you realize how important you are. It is a story that should make us all hope the Dream never dies – that the promise of America never fades.
About Gary:
Gary Trawick is a retired Superior Court Judge, writer and teller of stories. He and his wife, Jennings, live in Burgaw.
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