He is small in stature, but what he has achieved and continues to achieve makes him a giant. Yes, he started out in the early fifties with his older brother by his side. And where his brother was outgoing, with his own voice, creative, and a participant, the one I write of remained in the shadows, a cautious little boy. He always enjoyed camp and his group, learning everything his counselor and specialists taught. He rode horses and swam, participated in sports, etc. Although he was not particularly good at most activities, he played the game. In the sixties at Camp Shasta, he loved camping and grew as a person but still remained somewhat in the shadows. He was a popular member of his cabin groups over the years, establishing meaningful relationships. Many of these old friends stay in touch to this day.
But life generally did not go well with him as a young adult. He was purposeless, still the small person in his own mind. He was in a depressive state, and in the middle of one winter, he journeyed to Camp Shasta to think seriously about his future and whether he even wanted one. Sitting by the dark and icy campfire pit, he considered his options. He told me that visions of kids and staff came to him as he sat alone by a fire pit with no fire. Love from the images poured over him and gave him reasons to live.
He drove home, entered Cal Berkley, and earned a PH’D in Health Anthropology. Not long afterward, he traveled through many parts of the world dealing with health issues and came to teach at his alma mater.
On one of his trips to Nigeria, he became involved in the education of young girls. He was energized by the challenges he saw and began gathering money and staff to build schools for girls. He even wrote an academic book on the subject. It took the images of his past to show him that he was always a giant.