06-19-2013, 10:38 AM
Nice topic. I will add my story.
My dad was a career Army officer. We moved around constantly, generally every 2-3 years except for 5 years at West Point, but generally in the East or South with one tour in Germany. In 1968, my dad was off to Vietnam for a year and a half. As the youngest of 3 kids and having achieved academically, my parents wanted to keep me in one high school which might not be possible with his career rotations. So through a combination of fortuity and complete accident, I was packed off to a prep school in New England (Andover) which changed my life. A world of possibilities opened up, but it took an emotional toll.
Andover at that time (I am Class of '75, like Garvin) was a college admissions juggernaut. During my sophomore year, I thought I wanted to go to Yale. By late sophomore year, I was thinking Harvard (who knows why I changed). But by early to mid-junior year, I was set on Stanford, for a pretty basic reason. Having done well enough at Andover, the bar (i.e., expectations) had been raised. But though Andover was a fabulous opportunity, I was absolutely clear that I wanted college to be as little like Andover as possible within the constraints imposed by the newly raised expectations. Harvard did not fit that bill.
So Stanford was it for me, and I never wavered. I had never been west of Colorado until the day I stepped off the airplane to enter Stanford as a freshman, yet it completely matched my expectations and fulfilled my hopes. It was the best of times after the worst of times (ok, that's an exaggeration but otherwise I lose the literary reference).
Interesting sidenote: my dad didn't try to influence my college choice, but he did sit me down and ask the reasoning for my choice. There was some background I didn't know until years later, in particular that he had considered Stanford. He was a poor boy from Texas whose dad had not gone to college and didn't have the money to send my dad to college. But my dad was an outstanding football player -- first team all-state in Texas when there were only 11 first teamers and winner of the 1939 award as the most versatile high school football player in Texas. His high school coach was Paul Tyson, a legendary figure in Texas high school football who had coached at Stanford under Pop Warner for a year in the early 1930's. My dad was also one of the best students in his class, and Tyson helped him get scholarship offers and advised him on colleges. Tyson told my dad there were 3 schools he should consider: Columbia, Stanford and Vanderbilt. Of the 3, Tyson said Columbia was a city school and my dad was a country boy, Stanford was a rich kid's school and my dad was a poor boy, Vanderbilt was where he should go. He did, and played for Bear Bryant and Red Sanders for 2 years. After Dec. 1941, he applied for an appointment to West Point and played there for Red Blaik just as Army's glory days were building.
My dad never told me he had ever considered Stanford when we talked about my college choice. But he didn't question it either.
My dad was a career Army officer. We moved around constantly, generally every 2-3 years except for 5 years at West Point, but generally in the East or South with one tour in Germany. In 1968, my dad was off to Vietnam for a year and a half. As the youngest of 3 kids and having achieved academically, my parents wanted to keep me in one high school which might not be possible with his career rotations. So through a combination of fortuity and complete accident, I was packed off to a prep school in New England (Andover) which changed my life. A world of possibilities opened up, but it took an emotional toll.
Andover at that time (I am Class of '75, like Garvin) was a college admissions juggernaut. During my sophomore year, I thought I wanted to go to Yale. By late sophomore year, I was thinking Harvard (who knows why I changed). But by early to mid-junior year, I was set on Stanford, for a pretty basic reason. Having done well enough at Andover, the bar (i.e., expectations) had been raised. But though Andover was a fabulous opportunity, I was absolutely clear that I wanted college to be as little like Andover as possible within the constraints imposed by the newly raised expectations. Harvard did not fit that bill.
So Stanford was it for me, and I never wavered. I had never been west of Colorado until the day I stepped off the airplane to enter Stanford as a freshman, yet it completely matched my expectations and fulfilled my hopes. It was the best of times after the worst of times (ok, that's an exaggeration but otherwise I lose the literary reference).
Interesting sidenote: my dad didn't try to influence my college choice, but he did sit me down and ask the reasoning for my choice. There was some background I didn't know until years later, in particular that he had considered Stanford. He was a poor boy from Texas whose dad had not gone to college and didn't have the money to send my dad to college. But my dad was an outstanding football player -- first team all-state in Texas when there were only 11 first teamers and winner of the 1939 award as the most versatile high school football player in Texas. His high school coach was Paul Tyson, a legendary figure in Texas high school football who had coached at Stanford under Pop Warner for a year in the early 1930's. My dad was also one of the best students in his class, and Tyson helped him get scholarship offers and advised him on colleges. Tyson told my dad there were 3 schools he should consider: Columbia, Stanford and Vanderbilt. Of the 3, Tyson said Columbia was a city school and my dad was a country boy, Stanford was a rich kid's school and my dad was a poor boy, Vanderbilt was where he should go. He did, and played for Bear Bryant and Red Sanders for 2 years. After Dec. 1941, he applied for an appointment to West Point and played there for Red Blaik just as Army's glory days were building.
My dad never told me he had ever considered Stanford when we talked about my college choice. But he didn't question it either.