Chapter 19 - The Castle

The largest brick building housing St. Paul Bible College (now Crown College) is both friendly and forbidding. The drizzly autumn day, the tall turrets, the high-ceilinged reception room and the creaky stairs are cold and austere. But the staff are warm, my roommate engaging, our room small and cozy.

I settle into a routine of English, history, and Bible classes. And I make friends over lunch in the cafeteria. Dr. Tewinkel’s history class is enlightening, Dr. Richardson’s theology class faith-building. But it is Dr. Mason’s New Testament class that enthralls me. He illuminates the historical background and hidden details of a Bible narrative to make it live afresh. Years later as I read scripture I would remember his penetrating comments. “I would love to explain like that,” I sigh to myself. “His teaching affects people so deeply, so well.”

One day the president Dr. Hardwick greets me by name in the hallway. I am stunned. Someone tells me later he has memorized all of the 400 plus students by name. He probably prays for us by name also!

I keep looking in my mailbox for letters. Mom and Dad write faithfully every week. And I write back. But I am eager for letters from my tall Fred…and when he actually breaks off the relationship I am devastated. I am desperate for family and friendship closeness. Mom and Dad are halfway around the world, and now there is no connection with Fred. The Kentucky and New York relatives are far away, and I don’t feel close enough to anyone to telephone, to pour out my heart.

“Lord, please let the next man I go with be the one I will marry,” I pray. “I just don’t want to be hurt anymore. Or waste time.”

Grandpa Larson is paying most of my room, board, and tuition. I am very grateful, writing to thank him after receiving each check. And the allowance from the CMA I put toward my school fees. That means I need to find a part time job to have spending money. Scouting around, I interview for a 20 hour a week job at a fudge booth in a department store a few blocks away.

Chapel is a welcome break in our morning classes. We meet in a large medieval chapel with tall organ pipes and a balcony. Worship, inspiring speakers, announcements. Leaning down to grab my books at the end of chapel one morning I bump heads with a brown haired freshman sitting next to me. We laugh, rub our foreheads. “Hi, I’m Marti Larson,” I offer.

“Well, hello, I’m Zachary Smith. Nice to meet you!”

Zack began to drop in at my fudge booth at work, and make small talk.

Christmas is coming! I ride a Greyhound bus long hours to Buffalo, New York to spend a snowy holiday with Uncle Dewey, Aunt Petey, and my cousins Sherrie, Cindy, and John. The time is special, but riding back to Minnesota afterwards I am sober, thoughtful. I miss Mom and Dad and my siblings and the Danis.

Second semester begins and Zachary and I start sitting next to each other in class, eating together in the cafeteria. He is originally from Minnesota, but now from Scottsdale, Arizona where his parents have moved for his mother’s health. He is an only child, had begun at ASU fall semester, but had no peace in his heart to stay. “Mom and Dad suggested this college—where Mom had attended years ago—and after prayer we felt this was the right choice. So I drove here in my Barracuda and started school late.”

“I love your car!” I exclaim. It is a white sports car, with a long hatchback.

Zach chuckles. “It gets me around!” He is muscular, of medium height, with blue eyes and an aristocratic nose. He has an easy laugh, a good sense of humor. Dr. Gates the philosophy professor with cerebral palsy loves to have Zach wheel him to lunch and assist him eating.

I had quit my job some weeks earlier, and Zach suggests I might work at a small hospital nearby where he has found a part time job. I apply and soon am working in admissions afternoons and evenings, taking new patients to their rooms. It’s thrilling to be in a hospital! “Someday I’ll be a nurse, actually working with patients,” I muse. “And someday I’ll be in Irian Jaya, ministering to a tribe.”

As we date, Zachary and I talk about my call to missions. He is majoring in history, but has a desire to help people, to reach them with the Gospel. He decides to switch his major to missions. We get to know Bill Conley, a former missionary to the Dyacks in Borneo, Indonesia, who now teaches missions classes. He and his wife have all the MKs over for a meal in their beautiful home. I am so grateful. Here is a couple who I can relate to, who understand my world.

I find three other freshmen also working toward a B.S. in Missions for Nurses. We all apply to Swedish Hospital School of Nursing in Minneapolis. After three years we’ll have nursing diplomas, then can complete our final year of Bible school.

As summer break approaches I pray for direction. “Lord, please guide me. Open the right door for work, among friends or family.” I consider different options….staying in St. Paul, or going to Kentucky, or New York.

Soon afterwards a new college friend Dawn Wheelock from Phoenix, Arizona makes me an offer. “Why don’t you come home with me? My folks would like to have you—I’ll ask them. You can find work for the summer and also be near Zach.”

And so it happens. I fly to Phoenix, and Zach and his parents meet me at the airport—he has driven there a few days earlier. We are all delighted with each other! Evey Smith is small, fragile, and pretty--walking awkwardly because of the muscular dystrophy she struggles with. Outgoing and enthusiastic, I find she makes everything special, looking at the bright side of things. Zach’s dad Bob is tall and genial, a World War II veteran who has survived concentration camp. He is quieter, an accountant who runs his business from home. I will grow to love them both.

Zach hugs me and we drive to meet the Wheelocks, where I will live for the summer. Chuck and Doris settle me into their ranch home that has a view of Camelback Mountain. Dawn and I share a room, and she gives me clothes…I am cared for, loved. God is so faithful!

The hot weeks slide into months of blazing Arizona summer. Mrs. Smith drives me around until I find a job at Gigi’s, waitressing. The culture of the servers amazes me. One girl not much older than me is already getting divorced. She argues loudly on the phone with her almost-ex-husband. Most of my fellow workers are living independently, juggling work and boyfriends. I am still adapting to American culture.

On Sundays I attend a large Baptist church with the Smiths, and slowly acquaint myself with Zach’s thriving college group. The leaders are a young couple with children who somehow find time to host a variety of exciting activities for us all. I beg Isabel my boss to reschedule me so I can attend some of them. We meet for bowling, parties in homes, trips to the mountains. One Saturday our group drives to Sliding Rock, near Sedona. We picnic, splash, rest, and finally caravan back to Phoenix.

Along the way, descending back into the hot desert Zach and I stop to watch the lightning play in the distance. The sky is dark and windy. Mountains of purple and gray clouds swell and rumble as long jags of flashing light brighten the whole scrubbed terrain. The view is glorious! Zack and I lay on the car hood watching the play of light and darkness, the roar of war in the heavens. If this is so beautiful and awesome, what must God’s throne and the banks of Heaven look like? Raindrops begin pelting down, so hurrying inside his white car we pause for a kiss, then slowly continue our descent into hazy, hot Phoenix.

Zach and I spend many evenings together that summer, and have enjoyable times with his parents. Quiet and peaceable, they have no lively penetrating discussions over issues, like my family. They are validating. Zach’s dad does pray sincere long prayers over the meals, but I don’t remember them having family devotions.

When summer ends the Smiths drive Zach and me back to Minnesota, and I get to experience the Grand Canyon, Yellowstone Park, the Tetons. Astonishing beauty! We meet more of Zach’s relatives in South Dakota, and finally I am dropped off at Swedish Hospital in downtown Minneapolis. I hug the Smiths tearfully goodbye—they are like family already. Zach will continue at St. Paul Bible College across town, and I will live in Minneapolis.