I can still hear my father’s voice as he lectured me on the proper role of a man in this life.  Not well educated, he was well-experienced.  He had learned a few lessons that were valuable to him.  They represented the hard, cold truth in his mind, and he was determined to share these gems with his oldest son.  I now refer to all these speeches as the “no kind of man” speeches.  “No kind of man makes a commitment to a friend and breaks his word.  Do you hear me, no kind of man,” he would say.  “Look a man in the eyes and take his hand firmly when you shake his hand, let him know you are an honorable man of character,” he often said.  He coached me on every aspect of life from the simple to the sublime, but always there was that same theme: What kind of man are you?  Do you tell the truth?  Do you stand by your word?  Can you be counted on?

On matters of race relations: “No kind of man lets another man tell him what to think about other people.  People are like you find them.  People who say that all people of this color or from that place are the same are ignorant.  That’s right, ignorant.  No kind of man gives in to that.  You make your own decisions about who people are – who your friends are.  Then you stand by your decisions,” he would say.  On matters of sexual relations:  “I won’t tell you what to do about sex with your girlfriends, but I will tell you this, if you get a woman pregnant, you stand behind your actions.  You do what is right by her.  If you want, and I have seen men lie and run away, you are no kind of man, and everyone in the community will know it.  They will have no respect for you.  I will have no respect for you.  No kind of man would do that.  You just think about that before you act,” he said.  And, I did think about it.  I thought about all the things he said.  In the worst of times, I would remember that he had taught me that a man does not allow other people to tell him what his value is.  That’s right, no kind of man.  An honorable man figures out what the truth is and follows that light – as my father saw it, this was the most important mission of every man, woman, and child.

My dad was from a family of 15 children.  He and two of his brothers served during the Korean War.  Like so many large families from back in the mountains of Virginia, they were very patriotic.  I had been raised to believe in military service.  I can remember my Dad’s brothers telling me that every man should pull a tour in the military.  “Pull a tour and never regret it,” they would say.

Although my Dad could not afford it, from a very early age, he told me that I would go to college.  He did not know how I would do it, but he told me that I would.  My earliest memory of this is of him taking me for a walk out to the ridge to a vantage point that looked down on the valleys and across the mountains.  I thought I was in trouble for something.  But, when we got to the point he was looking for, he told me to look down this way.  He then turned and told me to look down the other way.  Then he said, “there is nothing here for you.  Everything is taken.  You will leave these mountains.  You will go to college.”  He turned and walked away.  I stood there trying to realize what had just happened.  But for sure, from that day forward, I was figuring out how I was going to college.

As people do, I figured out how to go to Virginia Tech.  Nestled in the mountains, it was a beautiful campus.  I loved college.  It was a protected world seemingly under a dome.  You could learn, you could make new, interesting friends and you could prepare for life.  I felt so very lucky to be there.

I met my sweet Lisa at college.  I had seen her in high school.  She was a junior varsity (JV) cheerleader.  I thought that JV cheerleader was going to grow up to be quite the beauty.  And she certainly did.  She seemed to be everything my life was missing.  I did not think life could possibly get any better.

As much fun, and as rewarding as college was, it came to a close.  I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do next.  But one thought kept coming back to me, “pull a tour and never regret it.”  A person was supposed to serve their country.  It was an act of citizenship.  I had no idea what I was getting into.

A college graduate gets a lot of attention in basic training.  In those days the drill sergeants were Vietnam Veterans.  The rules were much more loose than today.  Verbal abuse and physical contact were common, accepted.  They did everything they could to give you the stress you would find in combat.  I gave my all to the challenge.