When I started college, I had no idea what I wanted to do with my life. There was one thing I knew: I wanted to be self employed. Business Management was my major. My reasoning was: I would figure out what I wanted to do at some point and I would need to know how to run a business. Between my second and third year at SVSC, I bought a used Minolta 101 35mm single lens reflex camera. When the new semester started I changed one of my electives to: Intro To Photography. I loved it! I found myself spending all my time on this elective class that meant nothing to my major.

The instructor: Curt Leece, was a veteran photographer that worked for the Saginaw News. He didn’t just teach us the basics of processing black and white film, he taught us the system he used that made him a successful newspaper photographer. It took about a month to do all the necessary testing to learn to shoot and process black and white film utilizing “The Zone System” for roll film. About a week after we all learned how to process our own film, Mr. Leece announced the college was looking to hire a photographer and gave us the name of the man to see if we wanted the job. I looked around the room to see who else was writing the information down, but couldn’t tell who else was interested. As soon as Mr. Leece started wrapping things up, I bolted out the door to go see John Rummel in the College Communications office. His secretary informed me, he was gone for the day and would be in at 7:30 the next morning. When Mr. Rummel walked in the next morning I was sitting alone in the dark waiting for him. He asked who I was.

“I came to see about the photographers job”, was my response.

John invited me into his office as he turned on the lights. He asked me a few questions then handed me 3 rolls of film. I need photos of the new administration building. Take this film and shoot the building in the next two days. He handed me some keys, as he told me where the darkroom was. You will find everything you need in there. I want to see contact sheets three days from now, any questions?, “This is your job interview” he added before I had a chance to ask him anything.

Long story short: I got that job and worked as the school photographer for two years. The job was part of the work study program. It paid for my tuition, books, and paid me $84 every two weeks. I needed more than that to pay rent and my other living expenses, so I continued to work at Bowerman’s Party Store also.

Having to work 2 jobs put me on the five year plan. Mr. Leece had gone to RIT and told me if I wanted to be a photographer, I should attend RIT. While plodding through my forth year, I learned I could go one more year to SVSC and get a degree in Business Management or I could transfer and in two years get a degree in Professional Photography from RIT. I had to make a decision, a big one.

There’s not much I recall about the time leading up to the deadline. I remember having three days to make the decision and letting two of them slip away without thinking much about it. So, here it is, the day I have to make the biggest decision of my life (up to that point.) What do you suppose I was doing? Was I talking to my parents, seeking counsel, praying, or asking God for guidance? No, I was at the bar playing pool. The activity I chose when I was trying to get my mind off of something.

Vechel’s was a little dive bar on Court Street next to the railroad tracks and close to “The Shop.” The Shop referred to all General Motors Manufacturing Facilities. There were 18 of them in Flint at the time. Ken (the guy I went with that night) and I called it vegetables. It was a Cheer’s kind of neighborhood bar. Every time I went there it seemed the same people were sitting in the same seats. The people playing pool changed, but not the folks sitting at the bar. Vechel’s had a reputation for being a place you could get a good game of pool. If you wanted to play for money, you could most likely find that there too.

One of the waitresses, while off work that night, was there drinking with three other people. She went out to get Chinese food for her little gang and came back with enough fortune cookies for everyone there. She waltzed around the room and handed a fortune cookie to everybody, even those of us that didn’t want one. Mine sat on the table as everybody else opened theirs and read them aloud so everyone could hear and laugh. I thought it was silly and refused to open mine. The little game reminded me that I had serious issues to deal with. The weight of my looming decision descended upon me slowly, steadily, like the darkness after the setting sun. I continued to drink beer and play pool, but my focus shifted.

I looked around the room as if I wasn’t in it. It was kind of like watching a movie. A movie I had seen so many times I knew what was coming next. I saw the same people, sitting in the same bar stools, having the same conversations they always had. I was reminded of how many times I thought to myself, I’m not going to end up like these people. I told myself over and over again I’m not going to end up coming here night after night when I get old. I told myself that because I had doubts. I worried that might be my destiny.

Everybody eventually gave up on trying to get me to read my fortune cookie out loud so all could hear. Ken told me to open mine at least 4 or 5 more times before I finally relented. Ken sat and looked at me as I opened it up. Much to my dismay, the answer to my huge decision was inside. I was dumbfounded and speechless. I just sat there holding the bottom corners of that little slip of paper with my thumbs and forefingers. “What’s it’s say” Ken asked at least three times before I was able to speak.

I eventually replied, “It says, Dave go to New York.”

Ken said, “WHAT, NO WAY” as he snatched the little piece of paper out of my hands. He proceeded to read it aloud, “Act the way you want to be, and soon you will be the way you act.” He looked at me with a puzzled look and said, “You’re crazy,” as he threw the paper on the table and got up to take his shot at the pool table.

I sat there silently and thought to myself, I’m not crazy, this is it. This is the answer I’ve been looking for. I can go to New York and be anybody I want to be. No one there will know me, so I can act like the person I want to be and soon I will become that man. Ken first told me the definition of insanity is: “doing the same thing and expecting a different result.” I would be crazy if I stayed in Flint. I worried about ending up in Vegetables night after night when I got old, what made me think it wouldn’t happen. At this point in my life I knew I didn’t want to go to the bar and drink all the time, but I did it anyway. Why, because I had nothing else to do. I made the decision right there, right then to move to New York, attend RIT and change my life.

Now that I know what it’s like to hear God’s voice, I know that little conversation I had in my head that night was God stepping into the darkness and telling me to take that first big step in the right direction. I moved to New York. I went to RIT. I proceeded to act the way I wanted to be. The next big lesson God taught me, He didn’t speak to me. I figured it out all by myself. I didn’t have the power to be the man I wanted to be. I was unable to act the way I wanted. Now what do I do? Well, that’s my next story.