A couple of days ago, I went to the Post Office to mail a package to Al Whittle (in case you stop by, Al, it's on its way.) As I was coming down the steps, a man was bounding up them and said, "Man, it's hot, today!" He was mvoing past me when I touched him on the shoulder and said, "Hey, wait a minute, don't you know me?" I could tell from the blank expression on his face that he didn't. I'm usually the guy in that situation. In that moment of awkwardness he said, "it was good to see you," and started into the Post Office. So, I touched him on his shoulder again and said, "Marty, don't you
remember the Stamford Museum?" And his face lit up. He suddenly realized who I was. And then, I couldn't get him to stop talking, he was so excited.

Back in the 60's during the Vietnam War, I was Director of Education at the Stamford Museum and Nature Center, where I ended up becoming Executive Director and worked until my retirement. Marty was fresh out of college, looking for work. He wanted to go into Optometry but had to work for a year to save up enough money. So, he was hired as a Maintenance Man. He was just happy to get a job. But, there was something about him that I really liked. He had a childish Gee-Whiz! enthusiasm for everyone, and I thought he'd make a great teacher. We had an opening for a nature instructor and even though he had no teaching experience and precious little knowledge of nature, I hired him. He approached his new position with tremendous energy, and I spent a lot of time teaching him about the local birds, plants and animals, as well as Colonial life and Native Americans (all of which we taught.) The first time I saw him take a class of five year olds, I knew I'd made the right decision. He had a real connection with kids that can't be taught, and the kids loved him. He stayed at the Museum for a year, earned enough money and went to Optometry school and became an optometrist. I ran into him once after that, and we talked a few minutes. That was probably twenty years ago. So, it's no surprise that he didn't recognize me (despite the fact that I look EXACTLY THE SAME as I did thirty years ago.) Marty hadn't changed much.. has grey hair now, but is just as excitable and enthusiastic. His memories of the Museum just came tumbling out, along with his appreciation for what I'd done for him. Because he was teaching that year, he had a deferrment and din't have to go to Vietnam (no small gift.) Giving him the chance had a major impact on his life, and it made me feel really good to know that.

Marty is one of several people I believed in and hired, who had little or no experience. I hired a young black man who was working in a necktie factory who was fascinated with reptiles. He had no teaching experience, and just a high school education. Again, he was a wonderful teacher, ended up using his time at the Museum to get a wonderful job at an exclusive private school, and went on to appear on television programs, write books and become a resource for animal use in movies... going on location around the world on film crews.

I hired a woman who had just gone through an ugly divorce and needed a job badly. She had no teaching background or nature background, but there was again something about her that made me believe that she could be a great teacher. And she was. She used her experience to go on to writing a weekly nature column and when she moved to Florida, had a successful career as a lecturer.

It's not that I taught these people everything that they knew. I just gave them a chance and a leg up and they ended up passing me along the way. There were others, too.. all they needed was a chance. And someone who believed in them.

Jerry