THE FALL OF ‘64 part 1, chapter 72

This is the elephant in the room story. When I began this blog I had every intention of simply skipping this phase of my life. Certainly there were good times, but the year was dominated by conflict. I have no desire to blame or hurt anyone. This is my story and my interpretation of that story. I fully accept my responsibility. The conflict was not one sided. There are other points of view. I welcome them in the comments section.

It was fall of 1964 and I returned to Bible College engaged to Della. We could not have been more excited about what was ahead. I had been elected student body president and had no idea what I had gotten myself into. We arrived early so I could meet with the new student council and plan for the coming year and the welcome of freshmen. The first pressure was going to be the speeches I would have to make. I was terrible. I was a “C” student in Preaching Class. I knew speeches would be difficult but had no idea there would be so many. I knew I would just muddle through this part. What I saw was the opportunity to plan exciting events and bring about change. I wasn’t looking to change the world, just some rules. I had a personal sense that I was where God wanted me, but that did nothing to reduce the impeding sense of frustration and doom.
I finally decided to take the advice often given to me the previous year. I decided following through was important since I was now engaged to a Canadian and may ultimately settle there.

Canada was seriously opposed to the Vietnam War. It was not a gentle opposition. They had made it exceptionally easy for Americans living in Canada to get a green card so one could remain and work. I went to the post office and filled out the three by five resident application card. My permanent resident card arrived a few weeks later. I did not go to Canada to escape the draft or the war, but had no objection to the safety zone in which I found myself. The USA draft board had my address, but there was no doubt that, if necessary, I was prepared to remain in Canada. I was going to be married and I had fallen in love with Canada. I had many friends in Canada. I would have been completely comfortable. The best part was that I could get a job. I wasn’t sure what I could do, but knew I needed some source of income. Finally I worked at the post office sorting mail for the Christmas rush. I worked the eight-hour night shift from 11:00 pm to 7:00 am. I got back each morning just in time for breakfast with Della, muddle my way through classes and sleep in the afternoon. I know I was a walking zombie. Point me in the right direction. All I needed what were to go next. Thankfully it was a short run. I worked three or three and a half weeks. It was good pay and I reasoned I would sleep at the Christmas break. You never catch up, but I did sleep.

I had registered for a full course load and was enrolled in “Romans” with our new dean of students. I anticipated learning a great deal. By this point I fully believed God had called me to ministry. I wanted to know the Bible better,

Within the first two weeks, guys were coming to my room asking me to explain why certain rules were being interpreted as they were. I had no idea and didn’t see it as my job to explain. I encouraged them to speak to the new dean or his assistant. Questions turned into complain against leadership. My response was, “Did you sign the agreement to obey the rules?” “Yes!” “Did you break a rule?” Yes.” “Then what is your concern? You broke a rule and have received a deportment slip, correct? Then I do not see a problem.”

I had the sense early on that issues might get bigger. Things seemed to be growing fast. It was like the beginning of a tornado. It was somewhat quiet but the air was foreboding. I quietly dropped the Romans class on the last drop date. I was hoping and praying that I was wrong and things would calm down. Through out the first semester, the number of guys knocking on my door, catching me after classes or in the dining room began to grow. Normal complains turned into anger and verbal attacks. I held the line at obedience. Do it or pay the consequences. Grace did not appear to exist. We were under the law and needed to obey. There were no extenuating circumstances.

Because of Della’s relationship to me she was hearing from some of the girls. We talked about the situation often and decided that if this was going to become a big conflict we had better not be caught in the middle. We would live by the letter of the law. If it meant cutting our time short to make sure we would meet curfew, that is what we would do, and we did. As a couple we never broke the law. Couples were a primary focus of this law. If a showdown was coming, I did not want to be caught in the middle because I could not live by the law. It was a choice we made.
Della had some personal support because of the large number of Red Deer girls in the dorm. However that did not block out the pressure she felt. She was torn between to pain of her friends and fear of what might happen. She knew I was hearing even more than she and that only made anxiety greater. I know other members of the student body were hearing things as well. I may have been  more wiling to listen so was hearing a lot.

One consistent complaint had to do with a dorm sign out book. No one was permitted to leave campus without signing the book. Few ever signed out. The book was located at the door nearest Fourth Avenue. Some left that way, but more left at the other end of the dorm. The book did not appear to be in use the previous year. I don;t remember hearing of anyone getting a deportment for not signing the book. I know I didn't. That law was now in full force. I met with leadership and discussed having books at both doors. That never happened.

By the end of that first semester I was having difficulty getting my own homework done because of the being found wherever I was hiding or people gathering in my room. They were no longer coming one at a time. It seemed to always be groups. Stories were being regurgitated so repeatedly I could tell them their own story before they even got started. At times, I wish I had. I could have told it faster. We were only on the cusp of conflict and already my roommate was being driven out of his room. I asked him to leave at times for his own protection. He heard more than he needed and didn’t need to hear more. He appeared to be doing well with college life and basically untouched by the problem apart from being my roommate. I did not want to see him destroyed. He was a good guy and apparently untouched by the problems of the law. On the other hand, maybe he was as badly affected as others, but never brought it up.

Early in December the first crisis occurred. The second semester had just begun. Four students had been out all night and had been put on room arrest. Many students were in an uproar over the punishment. The guys seemed to be taking it pretty well, but the girls were furious. They blamed the guys for what had happened. Some thought the punishment just, others unjust and some thought it too lenient. If act, it was just one more layer of legalism. Some restrictions may have been necessary to keep the community in order, but this punishment was delivered without grace.