One of my dreams when I was 20 years old, was to finish high school, go to college, and become a school teacher. It was 31 years later that my three children decided it was time for me to realize that dream. At first I argued against the idea, half- heartedly, but was pleased when they insisted. And I must admit that I have thoroughly enjoyed the good life which they have afforded me, beginning with those first days of college in 1957. By that time Dennis was a college Senior, Anita was teaching in college, and Larry was a high school Freshman. Oh yes, I even enjoyed the struggle during those early college days, even when it became doubtful that I would make passing grades in one or two subjects. The challenges encountered there and afterward have renewed within me the will to work for something better, and a desire to better understand why I work at all. Early in my college days I realized that I must make some changes in my way of thinking toward others, and my attitude toward some of my ideals, which I had cultivated since early childhood. I saw a need for conformity in certain cases, rather than uncompromising individualism, so long as it didn't interfere with my integrity. Such a change didn't come easily; I am still trying, but old habits from the past keep causing me to backslide at times. However, I think my greatest change is one that can not be seen by others--an inner feeling of well-being that tells me, "Don't worry about your past mistakes. You can not go back and correct them. And you will make other mistakes tomorrow. Mistakes are a part of the natural order of human living. Have a good day today and be content with whatever tomorrow may bring." I spent three regular school years and three summers in college, and enjoyed every minute of it. I was on the honor roll half the time. I also did a little teaching in General Shop in Junior High Training School. One day when the Professor had to be away, I even took it upon myself to break one of his rules and allow the boys to make knives. I told him about it when he returned, and I told him why I did it. He agreed that it was a good idea. Then I served one semester as student teacher in a college machine shop course, ranked highest in my class in economics, first in woodshop class, second in machine shop, and made "C" in United States History without having to study it. After all, I remembered most of it from having lived through so much of it. I cheated on two exams, just a little, not even enough for my conscience to bother me, caught two professors cheating on my exams--cheating in my favor, to help me make passing grades. During my first two semesters, it seemed that I got very little help from my teachers. There I was, an old man sitting in class with a group of 20-year-old boys and girls. It seemed that the teachers had the idea that I would drop out as soon as the going got tough, so why should they waste time on me?