i began this two months ago. At the time, it was planned to be the first of my series of two posts on Middle Tennessee State University. In the process, i decided Dr. Scott Peck, the Dean of English should be the subject of the first. After all, he was my introduction to my new school, and headed the department that led to my major.

Then, i decided i should write of the other professors who impacted my journey in literature. i suspected that decision was produced by reluctance to write about the subject of this last of the series. i did not wish to disappoint myself in describing my relationship with the remarkable subject.

But it’s time. The subject brought out the best in me and gave me the power to be the best, inculcating a love and understanding of literature beyond what i could imagine. He is one of the top heroes in my life. So, i hope this meets his standards.

Dr. William H. Holland, Jr.

A unique, interesting man, probably had more influence on my life than anyone other than my father. i never thanked him enough.

In January 1967, i began my penultimate semester at MTSU. i chose Romantic Literature for my English course that spring, thinking that would round out my literature course pursuits. i had read Coleridge’s “The Rime of the Ancient Mariner” and was enthralled but thought Romantic literature in general focused on daisies and gibberish.

Then, i met Dr. Holland.

He was an unassuming man, quiet with a wry humor that could catch you unawares. He introduced himself in the first class, and i thought the course might be fun.

It was and more, oh, so much more.

He started us with William Wordsworth, a poet and man in whom Dr. Holland obviously had invested. In the back of my mind, i scoffed, thinking about daffodils and all that. But as i read, i became infatuated.

And then Coleridge, Robert Burns, Keats, Lord Byron, Shelley, and Blake, all proving i had not understood the depth, the beauty, the exploration into thought, love, life. Oh, i had become enamored with the Romantics (not rock bands or such). It was all due to Bill Holland carrying me there with an open mind.

To keep all of us from being bored, he challenged us with possibilities. Like one day in class, he veered off course, considering the Greek myth of Atlantis. Dr. Holland surmised that Plato, due to the differences in the Greek and Egyptian numbering systems, had missed calculating the size of Atlantis by a decimal point, therefore making it possible for the kingdom to be in the Aegean Sea, not the Atlantic.

He was mesmerizing. i went to him after one class to extend a class discussion and he apparently thought i might have some potential and befriended me. i began to spend my free time in his office, and often skipped other classes to spend time with him. From what he said, he had received his doctorate from the University of Edinburgh, a first class doctorate, only one of ten since the Scottish university was begun in 1583. His treatise traced a theme from Chaucer through the significant English literature greats, including Shakespeare, to William Wordsworth.

He told me at a previous university, he became friends with a math professor, and the two of them created a system correlating the English language to math equations.

We would listen to popular songs and analyzed their meaning and symbolism. i specifically recall Bobbie Gentry’s “Ode to Billie Joe” and Bob Lynn’s “Butterfly of Love.” There seemed to be no topic on which he couldn’t give me a different and fuller perspective.

Toward the end of the semester, i brought up my reverence for Robert Penn Warren, a classmate of Dean Scott Peck at Vanderbilt. We began a three-month discussion relating Warren, the Agrarian, the Fugitive to the Lake Poet. One of the best on-going discussions in my life.

As i ended my spring semester in 1967, i thought i had fulfilled all of the requirements to receive Bachelor of Arts in English at MTSU except for one more course in literature that summer to move on to the next phase of my life. At that time, i thought the next phase would be to become a sports writer for a major newspaper, hopefully The Nashville Banner under Fred Russell. My BA and major pursuits were only due to my bullheadedness, a reaction against my opting to pursue an engineering degree on my Vanderbilt NROTC scholarship. Completing the last English courses was just a means of moving on.

Choosing “Literature and Philosophy” as my last course was a no-brainer. Dr. Holland was the professor.

i cannot express how much that course impacted me. With Dr. Holland leading, we explored the depths of the major streams of philosophy and related them to the writers of the periods and how philosophy impacted their works. Those discussions extended way past class time for Dr. Holland and me as we walked the campus, ending up in his office, talking about deep things and relating those things to everyday events. i once again cut the other classes because (i hope) i was realizing how much i was learning from my time with him rather than the other courses. Toward the end, i wrote what i still consider the best thing i’ve ever written, certainly more academically sound than anything else i’ve written. It is literary and academic. i’m not sure how many folks would want to read it, but i will add it in a post later, just in case you do.

Dr. Holland and i kept our discussions going up to the day i received my degree in the middle of August 1967. When i went to my first ship, i ran across a new book about Atlantis, that supported Dr. Holland’s idea. i sent him the book.

It was the last connection we had. i kept making half hearted attempts because of all of the other demands on living. After running into a stone wall trying to reach him about ten years ago with someone at the university who, apparently, had a bad day, i finally reached someone who knew of Dr. Holland’s whereabouts. He had passed away in 2012, in Bastrop, Texas, where he had retired. i had been in Bastrop many times visiting one of my closest Navy friends. Had i been more diligent, i could have spent some more wonderful moments with Bill Holland.

He will remain one of the most significant individuals in my life. i often wonder if i had any sense at 23 and pursued a masters and doctorate at MTSU, how wonderful it would have been to be associated with Dr. Holland for many more years.

But i was young, headstrong, confused, and wandering through life like a stag rejected by a regale of deer.

It turned out fine.

i’m sure Bill Holland would approve.

i think we often add words, or make them up just to gain some attention, notoriety, or marketing edge. The English language is morphing enough as it is. New words are often needed, but from this old man’s angle, it seems to have gotten out of hand. And then there are those clowns, no doubt abetted or encouraged by lawyers who will profit from their side bets, who copyright words, like Pat Riley copyrighting “Threepeat.” Ugh!

The worst, as far as i am concerned, is the term “warfighting,” or “warfighters” An admiral, i think the Chief of Naval Operations, or more likely his publicist, created those words. Wishing to polish the admiral’s boots, it was immediately picked by his juniors to show the guy who would be responsible for promoting that junior or how brilliant the junior thought the flag officer was.

i think he just couldn’t remember better words, like “war,” battle, etc., and “warrior.” Give me a break.

“Repurpose,” although relatively new, is a word that can be used in a good way, but can also be used when there is a better way. i should know. i have repurposed a lot and often done things that should never be called “repurposed.”

For example, the chair in this photo was built sometime around when i was a mariner in Julius Caesar’s navy, i think. It was the high chair for me, Martha, and then Joe. Even when the new, space rocket chairs were finding favor in the children’s furniture world, my former wife Kathie and i acquired it for Blythe (1972). Kathie painted it, and we used it until Blythe grew out of that sort of thing.

Somehow, and i absolutely cannot figure out how, i kept it.

i thought it might be Sam’s chair eventually, but it wasn’t allowed on air travel baggage without paying what would have cost me the purchase of the airlines. So Sam used a space rocket chair. Then, i brilliantly thought i could “repurpose” it, refinish it to it’s original state. Then we could use it to hold flower parts, and i could pass it on to Blythe for that “repurpose.” However, Maureen was not impressed with my idea of it being a conversation piece, and Blythe and Jason did not have room for such a thing, not to mention the difficulty in getting it to Austin. And oh yes, one of the wood pieces for the tray arms to attach to the chair was lost and the plywood tray bottom is essentially gone.

Tomorrow, it shall go away to trash heaven.

“Repurposing” did not pan out. In fact, some folks might call it hoarding.

Here is a good use of “repurposing.”

In the Navy, when an officer changed duty station — i’m not sure this remains extant — he or she was given a cruise box.

When i was commissioned out of OCS, i received the standard “cruise box,” 16″ deep x 19″ X 31.” It was unpainted 3/8″plywood back in 1968.

That first cruise box stayed at my parent’s home for my year carrying Republic of Korea troops to Vietnam and back to Pusan. Kathie Lynch and i married in May 1971. We moved into a two bedroom apartment in Watertown, New York that May. The apartment was the second floor of a widow’s home. She lived downstairs. i think our “living room” had been a bedroom with an alcove to be used as a sitting room.

We made the alcove into a very simplistic entertainment center and workroom. i had brought my stereo system i had bought at the Navy Exchange in Sasebo, where it was a good deal. Of course, i had spent enough money to pay for constructing another Eiffel Tower. i had a Dual 1019 turntable, a high-end Sansui stereo amplifier, Teac reel-to-reel recorder and a sister reel-to-reel player, four Sansui speakers, two of them large enough and nice enough to be used as table tops — they, although not repurposed exactly, were two of my furniture pieces through that marriage, seven-years of freedom, and through my marriage with Maureen until the mid-90’s when she decided they didn’t go with the interior design she was creating for our home (they didn’t go with that design, i admit, but they did go).

But back with Kathie in Watertown, New York with a very small income, no previous financial planning on my part, spending all of my money from the Vietnam tour and buying every expensive boy-toy possible in that Navy Exchange rather than putting some away or buying the absolutely essential furniture for newly weds, there was no budget and no money for stereo furniture.

Voila! Cruise box repurposing. i painted it black, found a U.S. Flag with an eagle decal to placed on the top. The i turned the box on its end, and installed some shelf hangers for housing about half of my LP collection inside. i removed the side handle and placed my turntable on that top. As had been the rage back then for folks with no money in the real world of being on their own, i found some old plywood panels and Breeko blocks, placed the panels on the blocks for holding the amplifier, the reel-to-reel tape players on these new stereo shelves (another example of repurposing, i suppose). i stored the remaining albums, the reel-to-reel tapes, and my precious 45 RPM collection on and under those shelves. Speaker wires were run into the living room for the big speakers to flank the best Sony TV i had also purchased at that paycheck-sucking Navy Exchange. i ran speaker wires to our adjoining bedroom so we could have romantic music to lull us to sleep. At least, that was the plan.

This was height of repurposing, man, even if the word had not surfaced in those innocent times.

That old plywood box continued to house records, LP’s and tapes until Maureen and i married (i’m not saying she demanded i dump it; i’m just saying it didn’t fit in with her idea of decor). Then it became a storage bin for stuff in the garage attic. It has remained there for over thirty years.

And then, i couldn’t find something to help me better organize my office closet, which houses all sorts of stuff for my writing. But as i was reorganizing (again) my garage attic, i came across the old cruise box cum stereo cabinet cum storage box. Aha, i said, put in a couple of shelves, and had the best answer for my closet organizer.

That old plywood box is my repurposed memories of some great times in my life.

When i left my last at-sea job on Yosemite, cruise boxes had come a long way, especially if your ship is a destroyer tender with the best carpenter shop in the fleet. My cruise box became a linen cabinet and a coffee table until Maureen redecorated for…oh, about the 430th time. As with nearly all things mine, that beautiful cruise box was relegated to MY garage attic, where all things Jim are destined.

It occurred to me while contemplating all of this “repurposing,” even though i don’t like the word and would prefer “used for something else” or something like that, that i, moi, have spent my life being repurposed. Now, i only hope Maureen doesn’t repupose me to the garage attic.

i have seen the storm clouds gathering,
to grind eastward, further eastward
from the dark, unknown, western seas,
cumulonimbus towering clouds, they be
dark and threatening hammers Poseidon
hurls from the depths of the Pacific
so ironic in its meaning
for clouds foreboding such as these.
they come with winds of fury,
stampeding stallions of the sky
breathing fiery winds of peril.

the sea, blacker than its previous blue,
began to flicker with whitecaps,
the gentle rolls grew to choppy
waves with no discernible direction:
frightening omen of the coming storm.

when i saw the storm a’coming,
i did not fear while others on deck
cowed and shrank in fear and
loathing for the gods of the sea.
back then, i was a swashbuckler,
a mariner with no fear,
now, i might shudder,
no, not back then, not back then.
now, i’m just glad
i was then and now is now
for i got to see
the cumulonimbus storming clouds,
the stampeding winds,
the frothing sea
while not afraid,
but awed by her fearsome beauty.

Since i began this website — with the help, and i mean help, of Walker Hicks for without him, there would be no jim jewell website — i have made the effort to respond to each comment on my posts with an email directly to the commenter, not with a response on the website.

My reasoning was i wanted to personally thank each individual for reading my posts, not simply reply in the comments section of my site, which, to me, is more like a broadcast thanks, not ensuring the responder would ever see it.

It has been pointed out to me i should respond on the site. It i likely to abet the responder to continue reading and commenting, which helps with my cloudy statistics for the site, which in turn, increasing my readership, according to the rules of the cloud. Well, since i’m still trying to break even (admittedly not trying too hard) on selling my book, Steel Decks and Glass Ceilings, those statistics may help.

It is obvious to me replying in both manners will eat into my time, and the older i get, the less time i have and the more time i need to get things done.

So if you make a comment on my posts, please check out my response to your comment, which is included after the posts. In my heart, it will still be a personal thanks to you, but not as direct. For that, i apologize.