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Altamont, New York in 1889

I grew up the oldest of four children in the small village of Altamont in upstate New York State. The village was located at the foot of the Helderbergs, a forested plateau edged on the east by a limestone escarpment overlooking the Hudson River Valley. The location was ideal for a boy with an explorer's temperament.  

Along with one neighbor boy, and sometimes my middle brother, I spent many a weekend or summer day exploring the rugged surface and caves of these heights. In my mind I sometimes imagined being part of a Mohawk raiding party reconnoitering the Dutch or English farms in the valley below. 

In the winter a favorite activity of village kids was sledding. Between the trees in the snow covered foothills beneath the escarpment we would carve channels in the snow for our sleds

Most days my focus was on education and the attendance at school. Science and history were favorite subjects. I immersed myself in lives in other lands through books about the wild west and, later, science fiction.

I succeeded in the usual educational path for an American kid. Grade school, middle school, high school and college. However, in the 1960s graduation from college was not necessarily an occasion for joy. Fighting a war in Vietnam was not a battle limited to volunteers. The Draft would make that decision for most of us.

Beyond its direct impact on young men's lives, the Draft was seen as unfair. A letter from a friendly doctor, participation in post college studies, family connections frequently affected a person's Draft status. There were numerous ways to avoid the draft. Admission to law school in New York City upon graduating from college was an escape path for me.

Law School

 

The first excerpt from a letter home

Rationality does not always trump emotion. I don't remember another time in my life where I experienced as many sleepless nights as at law school. I remember vivid dreams living on alien planets. 

 

By the second year of law school, a life as normally paved through the traditional education route, appeared less and less attractive. I wanted to experience life out of the main stream. I wanted to be anywhere but law school.

I was almost halfway through the second year of legal studies. The decision to quit law school in order to join the American Peace Corps was not an easy one.  Nevertheless, despite strong arguments by my parents in favor of continuing studies, I was adamant about taking an unusual path in my life.

As a Peace Corps Volunteer (PCV), the draft protection provided for a student in post college studies would be gone. The varied particularities of Draft Boards (drafting of serving PCVs was not that unusual) and a bad volunteer experience - the reality of service in an undeveloped country - could put me on a path to Vietnam and a war I detested.

My parents, and I am sure many others, thought I was most foolish. Telling my parents that I could finish law school following PC service reduced that family opposition source. In reality, I had no solid plans for my post PC future.

Greenwich Village

An urban environment I could love to live in

In the summer of 1964, I traveled to Europe for the first time. I afforded my passage by working in a Stuttgart, Germany factory for a time and hitch hiking across the continent.

My most revelatory discovery from that trip was the Medieval European city. Prior to 1964, I had never experienced an urban environment so supportive of a life such as I would want to live. The auto-oriented American city seemed cold and alienating in comparison. Discovery of Greenwich Village in New York City stimulated a similar reaction in my mind. 

 

Little did I know that these urban experiences would lead me to the crucial decision regarding my post Peace Corps life. Suffice it to say, that life would not include a return to law school.