By senior year at Grinnell College I knew exactly what I wanted to do: go to a graduate school where I could study Kant and Jung and become trained to practice clinical depth psychology. The search for the best school consisted of simply writing for catalogs from all institutions recognized by the American Association of Humanistic Psychology. Doing so, the field narrowed to Dusquesne University and Union Theological Seminary. Duquesne seemed rather narrowly focused on phenomenological philosophy and psychology. UTS was where my favorite college teacher, Dennis Haas, had gone, had a broader curriculum, one well-known Kant specialist and several analytical psychologists and psychoanalysts. In theory, the seminary route seemed better. Then my department offered to pay my way to New York to attend a conference there. Grateful, I went, was impressed and the decision was made.
The only significant hurdle to going on to graduate school was the GRE. Nothing was offered convenient to Grinnell, Iowa, so I signed up to take the thing over the winter break in DeKalb, Illinois, Two older high school friends, Art Kazar and Walt Wallace, lived together in an apartment nearby, so I arranged to spend a week with them.
It had entered my mind to prep for the math part of the exam, but the culture of study at their place tempted me to other, more interesting pursuits. Walter had recently finished his thesis, "Oh Liberty, Oh My Country!"--a study of the thinking of common colonial soldiers in the American revolution--so that had to be read and he was filled with other suggestions as well. We read and discussed, read and discussed. One day Walter and I read together for fourteen hours straight over innumerable pots of tea--the high point of the visit. All good intents of any prepping were banished by a final night out drinking, a short sleep and the morning rush to the exam.
Thus I went to New York for four years while Walter went for two stints to teach at universities in Peoples' China and a longer engagement teaching in Vermont. He settled there. I returned to Chicago, to work for two years, then to go for another graduate degree and, eventually, a job at Loyola University. He had adopted a child, Stas, in the meantime and the two of them got into the practice of coming out each summer to spend a week or two with me at the old family cottage in Michigan while I got into the practice of visiting him in Springfield, Vermont every two or three years.
Although evolving, as I had, into university administration, Walter remained inclined to scholarship. His library was second only to that of Mike Miley and my visits always included explorations of it. The Burke book was read at his recommendation, its subject remaining close to Walter's heart, viz. history from the bottom up, Burke being a leader in the field.