Six Degrees of Separation
(Originally posted as a note on Facebook, I wanted this on the blog for posterity.)
The distance between Phelps Drive where I lived in Columbus and Long Cane Middle School seems like a great chasm the size of the Grand Canyon. My 4th-grade year at Johnson Elementary was a turning point in my life . . . the one I would not have chosen nor would I have predicted the effect it would have on who I am and how my life played out. It started with the Easter Bunny and culminated with football. How does this relate to six degrees of separation? Put your tray table up and your seat back in the full upright position as we prepare to land!
My mother was newly married to my stepfather, Howard when my 4th-grade year began. He was in the Army, freshly back from his 2nd tour in Vietnam. Soon he would retire from the Army and become a carpenter. Our house on Phelps Drive had a mother-in-law house in the back where my stepbrother, Chuck, and half-brother Teddy lived. My half-sister Marie, and stepsister Ruthie shared a bedroom in the house. My "bedroom" consisted of a bed at the end of the dining room. The house we had recently moved to was too small for our family.
Lloyd King, Mark Webb and I had been friends since we started school. salt peter and sugar in the creek on Woodruff Road that stalled traffic and prevented the pharmacist from ever selling us chemicals again. We were inseparable.
We were in scouts together, in the same 4th-grade class, and even were arrested that year together for B&E (but released to our parents). We three, we happy three had adventures all over the area including lighting
One fall afternoon we were wandering around the grounds of Johnson Elementary, our alma mater when we saw a herd of 4th graders playing football. Towering over them was a mountain of a man (4th-grade perspective) with a stern look, red hair, and a flat top haircut that made us think he might be a "soldier." He saw us and called us over. Apparently, we looked as if we were up to "no good" or had the potential and he was nipping it in the bud.
He introduced himself as Mike Glisson (for some reason I remember him pronouncing it Glee son). The boys there were were a football team and he was the coach. "You boys want to play football?" I really expected him to add "or you just want to wander around wasting time and waiting to get into trouble", but he didn't. I guess we read that in his eyes. Lloyd and Mark spoke up saying they wanted to play football. I told him I had to ask my parents. In that moment all the times my friends had asked, "Nine-us . . . are you kin to Johnny Unitas?" popped into my head. I had dreams of going from Pony League football to the NFL . . . instead of wandering around, wasting time and waiting to get into trouble.
Coach Glisson came to my house and spoke with Mother and Howard (my stepfather) and gave them a list of things I would have to have to practice and play. They signed the death and dismemberment waiver (that is what Lloyd, Mark and I called it), and my short but illustrious football career began. At the Pony League level, it is more like heard ball. I played right guard, which got me no end of ribbing about being the deodorant for the team. Coach Glisson taught us life lessons about team work, hard work, integrity, having fun. To us, he was as cool and mean as John Wayne because he was a Columbus Police Department Detective and carried a gun. We also avoided walking by his house near the practice field because we were sure he could tell by our walk if we were up to no good. By now you are wondering about the six degrees of separation, right??
The other reason this year was a turning point for me was my teacher, Ms. Bussie (boo see). In addition to teaching us our "times" tables, introducing us to Nancy Drew and the Hardy Boys, she directed a play to be performed for the entire school, with her class as the cast. Mark and Lloyd loved the attention of being in plays, I cried and begged to not have to practice or perform. Believe it or not there was a time when I was shy and timid. Ms. Bussie scheduled the one and only conference my parents ever had with one of my teachers. The gist of the conference was that I should participate and if I didn't it would affect me the rest of my life (no threat of putting it on my "permanent record"). I went on to give an Oscar level performance as a bunny in the Easter Parade, and as the Scarecrow in the Wizard of Oz (I can still sing my part of somewhere over the rainbow). Ms. Bussie knew that if I didn't get over my stage fright, I would never be able to speak in front of people in public as an adult. She was right. Now people wish I would stop talking when I am in front of them.
Six degree of separation. I now teach Engineering and Technology at Long Came Middle School. A couple of weeks ago I overheard I attendance person, Ms. Jordan, mention she had to go to Jordan High School that morning for something. I told her I used to live in there area and attended Johnson Elementary School across from Jordan. She told me she attended Johnson Elementary. I told her I had played Pony League football while at Johnson Elementary. She said, "you probably know my father, Mike Glisson?" I asked her if he was a detective for the Columbus Police Department. She said yes. Did he have read hair and wear it in a crew cut? Yes!! I shared with her how many times I had thought about Coach Glisson, the positive impact he had on my self-confidence, and the life lessons he taught us through football. "He loved coaching football", she told me. It seems he was always doing something to benefit the boys in the neighborhood.
Six degrees of separation!!! Coach Glisson died a few years ago. I didn't have a chance to shake his hand in person and tell him that all that he contributed to the person I am today. Someday in heaven, I will. Never underestimate the impact that the things you do in this life have on people. That impact can be good, bad, or life changing. If we keep in mind that everything we say and does affects those around us, we take our responsibilities more seriously and treat each other with the love, dignity, and respect we seek. Thanks, Ms. Bussie and Coach Glisson. I hope you are proud of me!
My mother was newly married to my stepfather, Howard when my 4th-grade year began. He was in the Army, freshly back from his 2nd tour in Vietnam. Soon he would retire from the Army and become a carpenter. Our house on Phelps Drive had a mother-in-law house in the back where my stepbrother, Chuck, and half-brother Teddy lived. My half-sister Marie, and stepsister Ruthie shared a bedroom in the house. My "bedroom" consisted of a bed at the end of the dining room. The house we had recently moved to was too small for our family.
Lloyd King, Mark Webb and I had been friends since we started school. salt peter and sugar in the creek on Woodruff Road that stalled traffic and prevented the pharmacist from ever selling us chemicals again. We were inseparable.
One fall afternoon we were wandering around the grounds of Johnson Elementary, our alma mater when we saw a herd of 4th graders playing football. Towering over them was a mountain of a man (4th-grade perspective) with a stern look, red hair, and a flat top haircut that made us think he might be a "soldier." He saw us and called us over. Apparently, we looked as if we were up to "no good" or had the potential and he was nipping it in the bud.
He introduced himself as Mike Glisson (for some reason I remember him pronouncing it Glee son). The boys there were were a football team and he was the coach. "You boys want to play football?" I really expected him to add "or you just want to wander around wasting time and waiting to get into trouble", but he didn't. I guess we read that in his eyes. Lloyd and Mark spoke up saying they wanted to play football. I told him I had to ask my parents. In that moment all the times my friends had asked, "Nine-us . . . are you kin to Johnny Unitas?" popped into my head. I had dreams of going from Pony League football to the NFL . . . instead of wandering around, wasting time and waiting to get into trouble.
Coach Glisson came to my house and spoke with Mother and Howard (my stepfather) and gave them a list of things I would have to have to practice and play. They signed the death and dismemberment waiver (that is what Lloyd, Mark and I called it), and my short but illustrious football career began. At the Pony League level, it is more like heard ball. I played right guard, which got me no end of ribbing about being the deodorant for the team. Coach Glisson taught us life lessons about team work, hard work, integrity, having fun. To us, he was as cool and mean as John Wayne because he was a Columbus Police Department Detective and carried a gun. We also avoided walking by his house near the practice field because we were sure he could tell by our walk if we were up to no good. By now you are wondering about the six degrees of separation, right??
The other reason this year was a turning point for me was my teacher, Ms. Bussie (boo see). In addition to teaching us our "times" tables, introducing us to Nancy Drew and the Hardy Boys, she directed a play to be performed for the entire school, with her class as the cast. Mark and Lloyd loved the attention of being in plays, I cried and begged to not have to practice or perform. Believe it or not there was a time when I was shy and timid. Ms. Bussie scheduled the one and only conference my parents ever had with one of my teachers. The gist of the conference was that I should participate and if I didn't it would affect me the rest of my life (no threat of putting it on my "permanent record"). I went on to give an Oscar level performance as a bunny in the Easter Parade, and as the Scarecrow in the Wizard of Oz (I can still sing my part of somewhere over the rainbow). Ms. Bussie knew that if I didn't get over my stage fright, I would never be able to speak in front of people in public as an adult. She was right. Now people wish I would stop talking when I am in front of them.
Six degree of separation. I now teach Engineering and Technology at Long Came Middle School. A couple of weeks ago I overheard I attendance person, Ms. Jordan, mention she had to go to Jordan High School that morning for something. I told her I used to live in there area and attended Johnson Elementary School across from Jordan. She told me she attended Johnson Elementary. I told her I had played Pony League football while at Johnson Elementary. She said, "you probably know my father, Mike Glisson?" I asked her if he was a detective for the Columbus Police Department. She said yes. Did he have read hair and wear it in a crew cut? Yes!! I shared with her how many times I had thought about Coach Glisson, the positive impact he had on my self-confidence, and the life lessons he taught us through football. "He loved coaching football", she told me. It seems he was always doing something to benefit the boys in the neighborhood.
Six degrees of separation!!! Coach Glisson died a few years ago. I didn't have a chance to shake his hand in person and tell him that all that he contributed to the person I am today. Someday in heaven, I will. Never underestimate the impact that the things you do in this life have on people. That impact can be good, bad, or life changing. If we keep in mind that everything we say and does affects those around us, we take our responsibilities more seriously and treat each other with the love, dignity, and respect we seek. Thanks, Ms. Bussie and Coach Glisson. I hope you are proud of me!
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