Call Me Ted by Ted Turner, Bill Burke Read Free Book Online

everyone.
    While we were beating the thirteen other companies in most areas of the competition, we were still weak in military drill. We had thirty minutes off every night after dinner—our only free time of the day—and I decided that was a perfect chance for us to get in some extra practice. Not everyone in our company shared my enthusiasm for this idea, and things got so contentious that a big Italian guy from New York City even took a swing at me. Our fight was broken up quickly and when things settled down I sat everyone down as a group. I said, “Listen, if we’re going to win Honor Company every week, we’ve got to do better on military drill. The only way we’re going to do better is through extra practice, and the only time we have for extra practice is after dinner.” I told them we’d vote on this plan as a team and the majority would rule.
    Fortunately, morale was high and I managed to talk the majority into voting for the additional practice. As I led our team through after-hour drills, the guys from the other companies hooted and hollered at us while they relaxed in front of their barracks. By this point our guys were so gung ho that the taunting only made us work harder, and the extra training paid off. Against thirteen companies we won four different times and each week we won, we got the weekend off. The team’s enthusiasm grew to the point where our final week of competition we came out on top in every single one of the ten events.
    Coast Guard training in New Jersey was one of the best times of my life and I loved the opportunity to lead such a quality group of guys. The rest of my commitment was advanced training in Groton, Connecticut. We did well there, but it was a less competitive environment and couldn’t match the fun we all had at Cape May.
    In August, I was released from the Guard and was reaccepted to Brown for the fall semester. My father was fine with me going back to school but shortly after my return as a midterm sophomore, my original fears started coming true. He began to make negative comments about Brown and said he wasn’t sure he wanted me to stay there. Things reached a head about six months later when I declared Classics as my major.
    My most inspiring professor at Brown taught in the Classics Department. His name was John Workman and my first class with him consisted of a discussion format—much different from a big lecture as we’d deal in great depth with a single subject and really kick around ideas. We read classic writers like Thucydides and Virgil and we went deep into ancient Greek history. Workman was the first professor who really challenged me to think and I absolutely loved it—I couldn’t wait for his class to come around. And it was largely because of Workman that I declared Classics as my major. Problem was, my father wanted me to study practical subjects that would prepare me for a career in business. But Brown didn’t offer business courses, and even the economics classes were mostly theoretical. Regardless, my dad was furious and described his feelings to me in a long, rambling letter.
    I reproduce my dad’s letter here to provide insight into the kind of person he was and how he thought about me, and life, at that time:
    My dear son,
    I am appalled, even horrified, that you have adopted Classics as a major. As a matter of fact, I almost puked on the way home today. I suppose that I am old-fashioned enough to believe that the purpose of an education is to enable one to develop a community of interest with his fellow men, to learn to know them, and to learn how to get along with them. In order to do this, of course, he must learn what motivates them, and how to impel them to be pleased with his objectives and desires.
    I am a practical man, and for the life of me I cannot possibly understand why you should wish to speak Greek. With whom will you communicate in Greek? I have read, in recent years, the deliberations of Plato and Aristotle, and was