So after a slight delay we are back and what better way to follow on from our latest Symposium than showcasing a new essay from our man in New York
? Mike is becoming something of a regular here at the STSC ‘stack, a fixture, a local, a face- even though he is a relative newcomer. Perhaps you dear reader may be tempted to follow his example and join as at the Soaring Twenties community and get involved as a creator and collaborator. Up to you.Either way here’s a great Ecclesiastes riffing post to see you through.
Enjoy.
TJB.
I was struggling to figure out what to write tonight, given it has barely been a week since my last post for the Soaring Twenties Social Club. I’ve wanted to write about artificial intelligence, the 1848 revolutions, or risk management, and have a half dozen drafts ready to finalize…the “big guns” if you will on my own learnings.
And…I came up short. Nothing grasped me on those topics.
I started grabbing books off the shelf, trying to get some inspiration, and I found Ecclesiastes. It is hard to read or think about Ecclesiastes without thinking about my old high school teacher, George Krueger.
And yes, it was a fork in his pocket. I recall he always had a fork in his shirt pocket, and that he would always make us feel validated for our opinions, which, as teenagers, we were rarely afforded and rarely deserved.
George would open his class with the comment, “the plate is open. What is on your minds?” Shy or asleep, in the beginning we would not say much. “If I don’t hear from you, we’re going to discuss books from the Bible,” this being a Lutheran school. The first time we were silent, he passed out worksheets on the Old Testament book of Ecclesiastes. This was the first time I’d really heard about the book or read it.
Now, regardless of your religious leanings, this book slaps! Apparently written by King Solomon, the richest and wisest man to have ever existed, says, “meaningless! Meaningless! All of life…riches, destitution, wisdom, folly…I have done it all and it is meaningless!1
“There is nothing better for a man than that he should eat and drink and that he should make his soul enjoy good in his labor. This also I saw that it was from the hand of God.2”
As a 17-year-old all I wanted was riches and wisdom, and that message hits hard at that age! To hear it was not all it was cracked up to be a was a bold statement, particularly from the likes of King Solomon.
Beyond that, I mostly remember Mr. Krueger as one of the first adults to make us 17-year-old kids feel like we had a seat at the table. I remember having very intense feelings and opinions at that stage, with very few venues to let them fly free. Often, this was after hearing “the plate is open” at 9:15 in the morning or, on occasion, when he would smoke a cigar on a Saturday afternoon and hold court with us.
While this was all so meaningful for us, he saved the biggest lesson right before high school graduation. He would tell us the last week of class would be his talk with “the big guns.” Every week where we felt heard or felt significant or impactful or scared of our future, he would wink knowingly, “just wait until the big guns.”
Except…that week never arrived, as one Maundy Thursday we heard he had a heart attack at a local middle school.
We would learn later that he was teaching middle school kids how to throw shotput before attending confirmation. Here was a man dedicated to service of the youth to his last moments. And it showed when his funeral and wake disrupted traffic patterns in our small city, when many of the youth he supported had kids of their own who had their own memories of George Krueger.
And very clearly, with his open casket, sure enough there was a fork in his left shirt pocket.
His commitment to service to people and his community remains very inspiring to me today. In a world where we are so focused on our own accomplishments and renown, George sets another benchmark beyond our own egos and time...he found his peace in enjoying his labor by serving others until his last breath. As I lacked the initial focus of an essay to drive home my own ego and value of my time, instead my mind went to George, and that we should all be of service to each other. While “the big guns” remains a mystery to me and all my high school friends, it is this commitment to serving others that feels like a big part of finding satisfaction in an uncertain life.
I wish I had more specific memories or lessons from him, and yet it is the absence I feel with him gone. It is not specific stories as much as the absence of his service and treatment of us that resonates most. That absence speaks volumes about how he treated us and everyone around him.
And that fork in his shirt pocket…he always had that!
When you asked him about it, he would say he saved it for dessert as a reminder that the best was yet to come. The best was yet to come…not in our present, and not on this Earth even if it was dedicated to service, but for a man of faith aligned with God’s timeline, not ours.3
Ecclesiastes 2
Specifically Ecclesiastes 2:22
Published for the Soaring Twenties Social Club
Wow, thank you for sharing about your teacher, it sounds like he was one of a kind, and finally got his dessert. I think he’d be be pleased to know his legacy and lessons live on through stories like yours. Thank you.
The fork was symbolic and spoke to you when you wrote this blog—you were at a fork yourself and picked the memory of a man with a fork! He is well
alive in you. And so true, “it is the absence I feel with him gone.” Some people do less, but that less is more when they leave. Thank you for sharing!