What’s Life Without a Dream?

I had a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach as I laid my final Geography exam on the professor’s desk. This was it; I had run out of chances. No C, no more college, no college, no military deferment, no deferment, wait to be drafted. Next up, the rice paddies of Vietnam and a future without a college degree. I walked the few yards to my contemplation bench on the shore of Thompson Lake and lamented: Why in hell did I put work over study? What a stupid ass! With all that’s at stake, I should have lived at Morris Library and studied all summer. Please God, just a C, that’s all I ask for—I promise never again to come this close to blowing it. Work in the SIU laundry had ended on the day before the final exam. I’d told my parents I’d be home after my final, but I canceled a ride with another student to Springfield because I just couldn’t leave with the grade hanging. Besides, I thought, the only way I’ll visit Springfield will be as a full-time college student in good standing. If not, I’ll find work in Carbondale or some other place. I’m done with going home to explain yet another failure to my father. One way or another, I’m on my own now. Having barely slept in two days and a nervous wreck, I walked to campus and through a deserted Thompson Woods to the classroom building. Along the way, I felt a C was possible but a D was likely. Please God. I walked down the hall to the classroom, put my shaking index finger up to the door, and down the list I went: Student number 89170—C. I hadn’t been so relieved since I hit the water and bottomed out at Shale Hole. I was in! I walked to my bench, sat down, and cried like a baby. I mulled, remembered, and rejoiced. I thanked the Good Lord for this last chance. I promised Him that I’d never again let Him down. It’s amazing how religious one becomes in times like these. “I can take it from here, the FBI is in play,” I whispered to myself several times. I recall and appreciate that moment as much as any other in my life.