College was not a dream in our family - it was a natural and expected progression. There was never any discussion of "if", only "where". Both my parents had graduated from Monmouth College and it was expected that we three boys would follow suit. Funny, but I can't even imagine having sat around the kitchen table or out in the back porch and uttered these words, "Uhm, I'm not sure I want to go to college".
So it was that when Phil, the elder, graduated from Aledo High he decided on Iowa Wesleyan in Mt. Pleasant. It was a popular choice for kids in Seaton. Several town kids went there and ironically, at Mark's Retirement party at the Country Club last month there were no fewer than 5 graduates from IWC.
When it came time for Mark and I to decide three years later there wasn't much question - to IWC we would also go. I still have in my possession the acceptance letter from the school. Everyone had to declare a major so that they could begin to route the necessary courses and hours to that end. I chose Political Science since I liked the machinations of politics and besides, I read Allen Drury novels.
Wesleyan, being a Methodist enclave insisted on some mandatory theology courses such as Introduction to the New Testament. Most students liked to get this out of the way as soon as possible so they could go on to their more pertinent courses. Somewhere in that first year two things happened to change my thinking: I took my first Political Science course and I took my first George LaMore course.
My first Poly Sci course was an unmitigated disaster. The teacher was a first-time instructor, having been hired to fill in for the tenured prof who had left. This guy was horrible. A mumbling stumbling fellow who was surprisingly part of a faculty who was in most regards top-notch. About this same time I took my fist LaMore theology based class. Theology was about the last thing I thought I'd be interested in. But here he walked in, a dapper-clad little guy who I was aware of from Phil's stay at the school. I had heard Marj talk about him before I entered IWC. A veritable college god.
He jauntily walked into the auditorium - this first class was mandatory so the number of entrants was high, necessitating an auditorium rather than a classroom. As I would later learn many of his classes were in the auditorium because he was so popular.
So in he walks, not so much as a walk as a float, commanding even in his small stature. He wore a bright red tie and a matching red handkerchief - classy look. And then he spoke.
From this little guy came a booming voice that swept over the hall. Absolutely every student was quiet and he started with a welcome and little joke and beamed the biggest grin. This wasn't so much as an introduction as an invitation. An invitation to have your mind smacked with ideas, to sweep away all of the myths, mis-taught errors and downright falsities of our previous learning. It was an invitation to a new world of education and personal growth. Yep, that little intro and joke was his way of reaching into the fold of our brains and giving a a light tweak as if to say, "Are you ready, can you handle this, will you join me?"
I joined him. I quickly, and without remorse or hesitation dropped that silly poly sci course and major and threw my lot in with Dr. George E. LaMore, Jr. My intro to George and my "come-to-Jesus" meeting with Phil helped to reroute my course through IWC for the next three and half years. From academic probation to graduating Cum Laude can be attributed to Phil and George directly. Sure there was some major studying and hard work along the way but those two set the tone: one proverbially kicked my ass, and the other pummelled my mind.
As for George himself, he was a regional legend before I arrived. A gifted orator, he was chair of the Philosophy and Theology department. He simply made the complex less so. The stories of the Bible became clear historical events that were understandable given they were all created by writers of that time. George made the parting of the Red Sea understandable (high and low tides), Christ walking on water (time of day and an optical illusion), and that the fables of the Bible are truths with a capitol "T" rather than a small "t". I never studied theology because I was entranced with theology. I studied it because I was fascinated by how it worked. I was less interested in the "what" and more the "why". Philosophically speaking, he made Western Thought like a cool radio serial; a story you couldn't wait to rejoin in a day or two.
He died last month.
He received his M.A. at Boston College, and his Doctorate at Harvard. He also studied at Oxford College in England. He received his Th.D. from Boston University. He flew his own plane all over the U.S. for speaking engagements and was sought after as a commencement speaker.
A gifted musician, he was second violinist with the Southeast Symphony Orchestra. He was a portrait artist and was fluent in French and Greek. He was a bicyclist and always rode in the homecoming parades from which a motley crew of Phi Delts and other students would stumble out of the West Side Tap and watch the show. He was married for 61 years to his wife Jane, and had three children.
I went over to IWC last year with my friend from Knoxville, Pat, and we walked over to his house from the campus. He had since retired in 2002 and I lucked out, as he was driving his car out of the garage. I told him he wouldn't remember me as I was a quiet student but that he had a profound affect on my life. He replied that he didn't, that he didn't remember too many students from the past, there were simply too many (and we learned later that he suffered from the onset of Alzheimer's). He asked what I had done with my life and I told him I had a career counseling juvenile and youths at-risk. He broke into that beaming smile - the same one that beamed at an 18 year-old decades ago, and he said, "Ah, yes, a life giving back. If you learned nothing else from my classes you knew that we give back in so many ways." I told him it was great to see him again and his wife said they had to get going to Ottumwa.
As he pulled further out of the driveway, he yelled out "Stop again when you are back and we'll talk further."
I never made it back, but like all great teachers, his voice continues to beckon a wide river of past students to explore, to research, to think.
Thank you for your beautifully written remembrance of Dr. George LaMore. He was my teacher and inspiration also as I was his teacher's assistant 1965- 67. I went on to become a pastor and psychologist and retired last year. It was exciting to read your remembrance and to see that you also learned the "truth" of giving back by giving forward! stephen h getsinger thm phd
ReplyDeleteI too enjoyed your writing here. I was a Religion-Philosophy major at IWC and took all but 1 (interim) class with George. He wasn't happy with me taking hand bell choir instead of his intensive Art History class, I forget what it was called. I just wanted to relax for the interim. I had transferred in from a wonderful community college in NJ. I lived close to Monmouth College. I went to Brookdale Community College. We called all our teachers, professors and counselors by their first name. It took time for me to call him Dr. LaMore. He wanted his students worship. He actually said that to me. When I visited the school to consider attending, the chaplain at the time, another philosophy professor I met and later had as a professor told me that La More was like a peacock with all his beautiful feathers.
ReplyDeleteI loved George. I attended his funeral in Iowa, flying from NJ I graduated IWC in 1982.
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