Myths About Military Schools

I just read the most appalling blog post about military schools and I just have to offer an opposing view point. Although, really, this whole blog is an opposing viewpoint.

This article was about “public” military schools in Chicago but makes many false generalizations that I know from conversation are what many believe to be true about military schools. So, consider this a myth-busting post about military school fallacies.

Fallacy # 1: “The military requires submissiveness and lock-step acquiescence to authority, while a broad education for democratic living emphasizes curiosity, skepticism, diversity of opinion, investigation, initiative, courage to take an unpopular stand, and more.”

Anyone who knows me now or knew me when I attended Howe Military School can attest to the fact that I am neither submissive nor in “lock-step acquiescence” to authority or anything else. If you’ve seen John Keating’s teaching style in Dead Poet’s Society, you have a vague idea of what the teachers at Howe encourage – curiosity and critical thinking. In my experience and in the experience of millions of children forced to attend public schools – it is public schools that rubber-stamp and cookie-cut children into terrified little conformists, desperate to find a clique and dreaming of being popular, forcing them over a precipice into pits of sex, alcohol and drugs hoping to either fit in or distract themselves from the pain. Howe Military School succeeds in nurturing self-respect (and respect of others), confidence, and social skills.

Fallacy # 2: “… military academies, along with other schools offering limited educational choices, are located overwhelmingly in low income communities of color, while schools with rich curriculums including magnet schools, regional gifted centers, classical schools, IB programs and college prep schools are placed in whiter, wealthier communities, and in gentrifying areas … This is a Defense Department strategy—target schools where students are squeezed out of the most robust opportunities, given fewer options, and perceived, then, as more likely to enlist”

Howe Military School is far from “limited educational choices.” It is a fine college prep school with a “rich curriculum” and a diverse student body – diverse in both income and color. It is certainly not in a “wealthier” community – it’s in the middle of cornfields many of which are owned by Amish people. The goal of Howe is to provide, not prevent, robust opportunities. Any success I’ve had – which I like to think is quite a bit – is due to my experience there.

I didn’t enlist because I had no other options. I enlisted in the Air Force for college money and because I, mistakenly, thought it would be a bastion of honor and excellence like Howe. But Howe Military and the “real” military are two different things. Much like growing up and expecting “professionals” in corporate America to act with the same maturity and intelligence that cadets are expected to practice their daily lives with.

Fallacy # 3: “Military schools and programs promote obedience and conformity … [because students] must be controlled, regulated, and made docile for their own good and for ours.” The author then goes on to say “An authentic commitment to the futures of these kids would involve, for a start, offering exactly what the most privileged youngsters have: art education, including dance, music instruction, theater and performance, and the visual arts, sports and physical education, clubs and games, after-school opportunities, science and math labs, lower teacher-student ratios, smaller schools, and more. Instead, to take one important example, a recent study by the Illinois Arts Council reports that in the city of Chicago, arts programs are distributed in the same way as the other rich educational offerings —white, wealthy communities have them, while low income communities of color have few or none. A 16 year old student … understood and accurately described the qualities her school aims to develop—unquestioning rule-following.”

That’s really two points in one but I’ll answer both. For the “obedience and conformity” nonsense you can just see Fallacy # 1. For the arts, music, science, math, LOWER TEACHER-STUDENT RATIOS, etc. … Howe prides itself on all of those. I think my largest class had less than 20 kids in it. I’ve also written about how teachers were available after hours.

Regarding all these comments about wealthy families … no, we weren’t wealthy but I was able to attend Howe not because I was wealthy but despite the fact that I wasn’t. I sat next to rich kids and we all got the same great education and experience.

Let me comment on “unquestioning rule-following.” When the shootings in public schools stop and the shootings in military schools start (I’ve NEVER heard of a single incident) then fans of public schools can start talking about “rules” and why they’re so bad. When public school kids stop committing suicide and killing each other, then come and talk to me about who strives for “conformity” and how individuality gets punished.

Fallacy # 4: “Military schools and programs promote and practice discrimination … Military schools and programs depend on logics of racism, conquest, misogyny and homophobia. Military schools need unruly youth of color to turn into soldiers, and they need [homosexuals] and girls as the shaming contrasts against which those soldiers will be created … It sickens us to think of students marching and growing comfortable with guns.”

While I attended Howe, at least half of the student leadership were African Americans. That’s not discrimination. At least, I don’t think so. I could be wrong. Wait, let me look it up … is promoting mostly African Americans racist … hmm… can’t find anything to support that … and shaming and discriminating against girls … I know that at least two of the Batallion Commanders in the last ten years have been female cadets.

“Growing comfortable with guns” … I have waited years to say this … We were surrounded by guns. Most cadets at most military schools (if not all) are surrounded by guns. I have never heard of a single shooting at a military school but frequently hear of them at public schools. I’ve never seen a metal detector anywhere on Howe’s campus. You know why? Students there learn dignity and respect. For each other … and, well, for guns. You learn how to use them properly. If the general public learned how to handle and store guns properly … fewer Moms and Dads would come home to find their childrens heads blown off. And since cadets wear uniforms, there’s no reason to shoot each other for sneakers and jewelry because hey, what do you know … I’ve already got the same clothes you do. There are no drugs on campus. Well, if there are the drugs and drug users are quickly dispatched with back to public schools where they’ll feel more at home.

“Why is the bed shaking?”

I only attended Howe Summer Camp one year. I’d done so poorly in 9th and 10th grades at public school I needed to do some catching up before returning to Howe for 11th and 12th grades. The summer camp provides not only the usual summer camp fare but also – if needed and/or desired – summer school classes. I took English (I don’t know what the reason was besides Divine Providence) and Algebra.

In public school, I went from Algebra to Beginning Algebra to Remedial Math. Not long after beginning Algebra (which was – oddly enough – taught by the football coach … Howe technically still had a football team at that point though it was all but dead), I was asked to tutor other students. Later, in my junior year, I also did quite well in Geometry and Chemistry and was encouraged to take Physics. Physics is now one of my favorite subjects but back then it simply required too much (any at all) work to get an A.

I also received a medal for my work in English class but that’s a no-brainer … I’m really curious why I was in that class, now … it’s really bothering me. English was taught by Kevin Beuret.

Above is the nurse’s station run by the guy who got me the H.P. Lovecraft and Hal Lindsey books. I paid for them – he was just cool enough to score them for me at the local used book store.

A totally crass memory that always makes me smile is one night, after lights out … keep in mind we all slept in bunk beds … some kid said, nice and loud, “Why is the bed shaking?!” which I thought was a rather diplomatic way of saying to his bunkmate, “Hey, could you please quit …”

Industrial Arts Building

 

It is possible I never set foot in there once. Jeff Schillinger, the history teacher I wrote about in Humility and Passion, lived with his wife in an apartment/loft in this building. Other married Masters got houses, the chaplain and superintendent got big houses, and young, single teachers got … oh, man … rooms in the dorms … I didn’t think anything of that at the time but now it sends chills up my spine.

Steven Clark has been the Industrial Arts Master since before I attended Howe. It is worth noting he is also in charge of the school radio station. Which reminds me… there are far too many athletics boosters in the world, I think, and this is the short list of things I’d donate larges sums of money to support at Howe if I had large sums of money (I publicly promise here and now that if I ever win the lottery, Howe gets at least half) … these are my dreams:

• Build a new, big library that would be the envy of schools all over Indiana
• Bring the radio station into 2008 including live streaming audio over the website includinglive coverage of games, podcasts, etc.
• Update their hideously embarrasing web site so people actually consider sending their children there after visiting it. Something both prospective parents, current students & families, faculty, and alumni can all get a rich experience out of.
• Arts scholarships and state-of-the-art equipment for the Howe Herald and Bouton Auditorium.
• I don’t know how much teachers there make but, regardless, raises for all and an aggressive program to recruit the best from across the country.
• A whole lot more money for the Development department.
• Mandatory one-month summer trips abroad for foriegn-language classes

My vision would be that not only should there be a waiting list for admission, but a waiting list of teachers begging to work there.

Good Numbers

From the August 2007 Howe Review: “The lower school grade point average for every 3-week grading period was at least a 3.0. This is truly something to be proud of … Congratulations faculty and cadets!”

Enrollment is back up – to 161 cadets (that’s about 50 more than when I attended). Leanne Defelice, Dean of Students (among other titles), says the school hopes to have 180 by the end of the year.

Why Howe Is Worth Saving

Howe Military School, as I remember it, provides an extended family-type support system. We always read the kids join gangs because they have no other family. At Howe the school becomes your family – not just the corps of cadets, but the staff and faculty. This environment, filled with teachers and staff who passionately care about the school’s mission nurtures each child … each and every child … 24 hours a day.

In a public school environment, you usually have one of two choices … a crappy home life where the only structure and stability in the child’s life is at school … and they only get that a few hours a day 5 days a week a few months out of the year. OR, the home life might otherwise be fine but the kid is stuck in public school hell being neglected at best, tormented and poisoned at worst.

At Howe, you can get the best of all worlds. They live in an environment that teaches, encourages, and in many cases heals. There’s not a need or area of a person’s life that goes untouched when they are at Howe and Howe is at its best. Or, even if Howe is not at its worst.

Many children need – some of them, desperately – a place just like what Howe can be. And the world desperately needs men and women who come from a place like Howe Military School.

Will We Get Tested On This?

I think I got my habit of giving piles of handouts to students from John Pagin. Every class in Economics and Sociology he would hand out photocopies of articles he found interesting and relevant. He wanted to teach. He wanted us to learn. He knew we should be interested in everything he gave us. Boy, did he hate the question “Do we need to know this for the exam?”

This was not some lazy public school teacher teaching so someone could pass a test – this was a for real educator. I didn’t deserve him. None of us did. I wasted my time with him. When I attended Redford Union High School (where students wore “R.U. High?” t-shirts) for 9th and 10th grade I was happy if I passed any given class. Howe, unlike public schools, focused on Academics and it was there things changed. If I got a B, I’d be really upset. Classes were run so well, the environment so conducive to learning, the teachers so available even during evenings and weekends that … I didn’t take that extra effort … I paid just enough attention to Walden to answer test questions about it …

I wish I could go back and ask countless questions in Sociology and Economics … a couple of my favorite subjects (now). I should. Just start calling him when I’m reading and bug him.

You know those Chuck Norris lists about how tough he is? Like “Chuck Norris is so fast he can run around the world and punch himself in the back of the head” or “When Chuck Norris is tired, he blows out the sun and goes to bed”? Those were all originally about John Pagin.

Above is the plaque outside his room. It’s still his room. 54-98 aren’t his birth-death years (he’s still alive and active at Howe), those are the years he taught in that classroom.

The Force of Nature Called Zoss

If you look at my senior picture, which I will not post, you’ll notice a patch under one of my eyes. It’s Clearasil I used in an attempt to cover up a black eye I’d gotten just the night before. All the cadets in Echo Company were lined up against the walls of the first floor hallway. Nathan Zoss was in the laundry room at one end, I was standing near the side door that exited to Bravo Company at the other. I can’t remember what I said but it was second-hand information about how Zoss was to blame for something. Something totally insignificant. Now, what I need to mention is that Zoss and I were friends. When he caught wind of what I said, he came rushing down the hallway toward me, roaring something and I curled up into a little ball on the floor and covered my head.

This is nothing to be ashamed of. If you knew him, you’d have done the same. He pummeled me for a while until oh, I don’t know, twenty or so people pulled him off me.

I curled up into a little ball because the Rage of Zoss was well-known. A man who had the misfortune of briefly being our biology teacher had a confrontation with him. I can remember at least a couple of us muttering, “Please don’t make Zoss angry.”

Then it happened and as the rest of us scattered, he lifted and threw tables and chairs no human teenage boy should be able to around the room.

The pix of the biology lab are modern. I think they could use a new whiteboard, even if it isn’t on their wishlist.

See also: The Legacy of Nathan Zoss

A Terrifying, Stupid Mistake

I have been avoiding this subject (drugs & alcohol) for some time. I am scared of two things:

1. That I will never be offered a teaching job at Howe after divulging this information and
2. That some parent(s) might read these stories and be hesitant to send their child(ren) to Howe.

I don’t remember how pre-meditated this episode was. The first thing I remember is sitting in in Geometry class, pulling my toothpaste and toothbrush from my bookbag and loudly brushing my teeth. This may not have been the first thing I did even that day in Geometry class – for whatever reason, I delighted in tormenting this poor woman by acting up. I don’t know why – she was a perfectly nice teacher. I think she was just so … nice … and easily rattled. Exactly the type who seemed easy prey to a predatory practical jokester like myself. So here I am brushing my teeth and she tells me to spit it out. So I did. In my geometry book, slamming it shut so my saliva and toothpaste splattered nicely with wonderful results all over the people around me.

I got sent to the office. I don’t remember whose office. I don’t think I would have continued with this nonsense if Mr. Piper or Mr. Malerich were sitting across from me. We still had corporal punishment then and neither were afraid to use the paddles that hung behind their desks (one of many reasons Dead Poets Society reminds me of Howe). Sadly, I can’t remember exactly what I did beyond giving really goofy answers to every question. Pseudo-philosophical/psychological crap to amuse myself. I think a second administrator was brought in – the school chaplain, Fr. Morgan. It was decided I would be driven to the local doctor’s office for a urine/drug test.

While there, I continued my shenanigans, taunting the poor staff with questions like “Hey, you want some more?!” and “How about some blood, too?!” Maturity wasn’t my strong point that day. What were they going to do? Send me home? For acting goofy? No. I didn’t do drugs so I wasn’t worried. I’d smoked weed a couple times but that was a year or two earlier, and it was long gone out of my system.

I had a very bad habit of going just a bit too far, sometimes. Quitting while I was ahead wasn’t something I had a good grasp on. If all this tomfoolery wasn’t stupid, what I did next certainly was.

That night after “lights out,” I walked into the room of a friend, we’ll call him John. John was the son of a very rich publisher. You’ve seen the magazine his family owned on many newstands and celebrities – nay, legends – were family friends. The musical tastes in Delta Company in 85/86 ran toward the hippy and psychadelic. We were about 10-20 years behind the times. I think that has something to do with not being in the “real world” with kids who were living the lives portrayed in John Hughes’ movies. Some Cream record was playing, I’m going to guess it was Disraeli Gears. John and my best friend Doug Knowlton were smoking some weed John grew in the basement of the dorm that eventually got him kicked out.

A towel was rolled up to block the bottom of the door and they were exhaling into another towel. I didn’t see any reason not to participate because my first couple tries with weed were great (later experiences soon after were horrific and stopped that bad habit very quickly – I was scared off long before anyone could ever call me a pothead) and it’s not like the school would make me take another drug test, right? Wrong.

The following day, I was called out of class and into Colonel Trout’s office. He held his phone out to me and said my mother wanted to speak with me. This wasn’t good. You know what a “howler” in Harry Potter is? That was my mother’s primary form of communication. She told me the school told her I refused to take a blood test and while I was protesting this and she was calling me a liar and the whole thing was going quite badly I realized … they want blood. Now. Yesterday that would have been fine – that’s why I volunteered to give it. Today it would be fatal. I don’t think I’ve ever been that scared in my life.

Needless to say, I didn’t even think about touching that crap until after I graduated. And, as I mentioned earlier, the experience was a total paranoid, bad-trip, I’m surprised I didn’t jump out a window waking nightmare that … I’ve never touched it since. As for that experience in John’s room, let’s just say that marijuana grown in the damp concrete of Delta company’s basement doesn’t do much to you either way.

I May Be Fat and Balding In 2008, but …

21 years ago … I was quite the stud…

That’s me after receiving the Most Improved Public Speaker medal and the Gold Medal for Best Essay (second year in a row, I might add). Above is me receiving the Bill Hicks Trophy for Forensic Excellence. I also received a medal for being The Senior Who Contributed Most to the Church because I was so spiritual.

Kevin Beuret

I have been avoiding writing about Kevin Beuret. He only taught one class at Howe Military School – one summer school English class. But is one member of the holy academic trinity for me. John Pagin and Eric Colville being the other two-thirds.

There is almost too much to say. Pagin and Colville … discussing them is like discussing the walls of a house you’re trying to describe. The pillars of a building you admire.

Mr. Beuret exemplified the greatness many of Howe’s Masters had. No matter what type of child you have … they will find a mentor at Howe. Some teachers reach out to the brilliant ones, the bright stars and … well, they find the young slaves named Anakin and raise them up to be great Jedi Knights. Other teachers will see the diamonds in the rough or simply the pieces of coal and say, “I can make a diamond out of that.” Truly, no child is left behind at Howe Military School.

It’s much like Hogwarts that way. Some students will have a Professor Snape, others their Remus Lupin. I had my Kevin Beuret. Someday soon, I hope and pray, Howe will once again have a Dumbledore… but I digress.

I’ve said before that you get no coddling at Howe. You may get more than your fair share of kicks in the head or rolled eyes. Beuret did none of those. He was as close to Socrates as I think we’ve seen since, well, Socrates. He was and is closer to Qui-Gon Jinn than Yoda and, at least in my opinion, that’s a good thing.

I’m being vague and using broad strokes on purpose. If I try to paint him accurately, I will only fail and my painting will be a grotesque abomination instead of the tribute I would like it to be.

I Became A Christian at Howe Military School

At their wit’s end, my parents sent me to military school for 8th grade. After “graduating” from junior high I took my “graduation” money to the mall and bought a couple Alice Cooper albums and … The Satanic Bible by Anton Szandor LaVey. For a teenage misfit, it was the most beautiful thing I’d ever read. For the next couple years I called myself a Satanist and meant it. I wasn’t just some knucklehead listening to Ozzy Osbourne, I was a deep philosopher and suburban theologian and I knew what I was talking about, mister!

You’d think that my consistently low social status, lack of success with girls, and consistent beatings by bullies that Damien Thorn never had to put up with in Damien: Omen II would have clued me in that Satan didn’t really have my back but I perservered in my “faith.”

When I arrived for Summer Camp/Summer School before my return to Howe as a high school junior, someone got caught with a copy of The Satanic Bible. Yes, it was that common. I’d gotten my copy at a bookstore at the mall and groups like Motley Crue, Slayer, and Venom were all the rage. I entered the discussion and somehow me and this other kid got dragged into the commandant’s office. Colonel William Trout sat behind his desk with all the power a human being could hold. He was feared by everyone. Except me – I had the power of Satan on my side.

Col. Trout asked us what religion we were or something like that. I can’t remember who spoke first but we both said Satanist and we were both prepared to be martyred and burned at the stake (or flagpole) in the center of camp.

“What are you doing here, at a Christian camp?” he asked.

We both gave equally sycophantic answers like “We wanted to be at the best summer camp in the whole universe” or “We wanted the best education” or some crap. Now, Howe Military School may be the best high school in the country but that certainly wasn’t why I said this.

“Get out.” was his response.

The great thing about Howe is whereas many schools will take the B.S. teenagers dish out and try to take it seriously and treat them like thinking adults … Howe knows that all teenagers are suffering from an overdose of hormones and malnutrition of the mind. Teenagers rarely have any self-esteem and grasp at straws like sex and satanism to find their identity and self-worth. You will not get shallow hugs at Howe. At least not when I was there. You got teachers rolling their eyes at you, not giving your drivel the dignity of a response unless it was to correct you with an intelligent retort.

And eventually, you learned from that. You became a confident and authentic young man or woman.

Long story short … I skipped class one day and snuck into the chapel. There’s this life-size wood carving of Jesus writhing on the cross and I had a shouting match with him. Well, I shouted, the woodcarving was still and silent.

But the young officer that was our … cabin leader or whatever … a bit older than the students who were in charge of other cabins … providence? He talked to me. With respect and compassion.

And the camp nurse took my allowance that I trusted him with and got me some books from a local used bookstore. A couple H.P. Lovecraft collections and The Late Great Planet Earth by Hal Lindsey. The latter got me into prophecy which got me into The Bible which eventually introduced me to the real Jesus.

The man who taught one of my summer school classes took me under his wing and called The Satanic Bible “chocolate covered s**t.”

It wasn’t immediate. It wasn’t drastic. It was slow. Ironically, it wasn’t any of the three priests on campus that had any influence over me. But to this day, Howe is holy ground for me. No matter where I smell incense, I am back in St. James Chapel where I stood face to face with Jesus, shook my fists and shouted at him, “If you’re real – where are you?”

He didn’t shout back. His voice is still. And small. But very, very strong. And powerful. And comforting. And embracing. And I think His Presence can overcome the incompetency of any administration. Yeah… I believe that.

Humility and Passion

I think his name was Jeff Schillinger, a graduate of Wayne State University. He was my history teacher. This was my first time back at Howe Military School after two years of exile in public school hell. My mother had asked me after two years of misery if I wanted to return to Howe. I gave an enthusiastic yes.

After the first six-week grading period I was struggling to maintain a D in history. Many teachers, I think, wouldn’t have cared and just written me off. Schillinger, however, did some research.

When parent-teacher conferences came around he said to my parents, “Your son is getting As and Bs in all his other classes. Can you tell me what it is I might be doing wrong?”

Great question. Rather hard on himself but I wish more teachers were.

Some teachers are great and you still don’t learn anything. Some teachers are horrible at teaching but you love them so you try harder and you manage to perform well. As for me and history, I just have a particular learning style when it comes to that subject and I didn’t find teachers who matched it until college.

When I found history teachers who were storytellers at Washtenaw Community College and Hillsdale College I finally got it. The way most history teachers “teach” is like this:

“On December 7, 1941 Pearl Harbor was bombed. You will be tested on this. “

A different way to teach World War 2, for example, would be to explain what was happening and why the bombing of Pearl Harbor was significant so it has a point of reference and some context. Also, a little action and romance never hurt. WCC and Hillsdale had profs who knew that. Explain, history teachers, that Germany got their ass kicked in WWI so they were kind of bitter and made the Jews scapegoats. Explain that the USA was going through a depression as well and need a reason to enter the war that everyone else wished they could stay out of as well.

I don’t remember a single thing Schillinger discussed concerning history. I couldn’t even tell you if it was American or World History or Western Civ. I do remember it was obvious he cared about his students and he treated us well. With respect. He was approachable and responsive. A good guy.

He lived in an apartment above the wood/metal shop building with his wife.

Eric Colville: THE Hero In Education

Eric Colville recently died. One of the great regrets of my life is never writing him that letter telling him what an incredible teacher and influence in my life he was.

Major Colville was a major in Her Majesty’s army decades before I was born and taught both Latin and English at Howe Military School.

For those of you who were never in his class, I am sorry. For those of you so close that you attended Howe and were so far that you did not get to be in his class(es) … I am deeply, truly sorry.

I can still remember the first day of Latin … “Latin is not a dead language” he began in his thick British accent.

His sense of humor, his dignity, the tears that would well up in his eyes for the students he loved and the compassionate smile he had even for those he couldn’t stand … will always be remembered.

An English Teacher Who Writes

He wrote his science-fiction stories in a spiral notebook. I read a bit of his work. I wasn’t very impressed – which means a lot because at 12-13 years I was pretty much the literary expert in lower school (5th-8th grade).

But, at least he wrote. I mean, most English teachers, though cooler than teachers of other subjects, tend to be … disappointing. Unless they’re not disappointing. Then they tend to be great.

We got to write short stories for assignments. He told me mine were too violent, too sexual, and other nonsense. My response was, “No one says Stephen King is too sexual or too violent.”

This idiot’s response? “You’re not Stephen King,” of course. What a loser.

Some schools seem to have either outstanding teachers or losers but nothing really in between. Howe didn’t suffer loser-teachers very long. If the cadets didn’t make them miserable enough to quit, I think they were simply asked to leave. I did not, of course, have every single teacher there but I was blessed with what seemed more than my fair share of outstanding teachers.

This guy was more often than not, friendly and encouraging. He wasn’t great, but he wasn’t bad … which … is a far, far better thing than to have even a great teacher in a public school. A teacher that does no harm … is a good teacher.

At least he didn’t … instill bad or unhealthy academic or mental habits. He just didn’t help me aspire to greatness. He didn’t try to hinder or stop me, though – and that’s the important thing. Public schools harm, hinder, and stop. They sabotage. Public school teachers are intellectual terrorists.

I think I first read “Harrison Bergeron” at Howe. Public schools are Harrison Bergeron.

Grades

One of the main selling points I always tell people about Howe Military School is the difference it made in my academic life. In public school hell, where I spent a nightmarish two years during 9th and 10th grade, I was lucky if I went a couple days without being bullied and equally happy if I got a D which meant I’d managed to pass a class.

At Howe Military School, however, despite loyalty to companies/dorms, ranks, and even a certain number of cliques, no one got bullied.

Also, if I got a B in a class, I was furious. I went straight from flunking out of school to being in the National Honor Society winning several academic awards and getting accepted at the University of Michigan.

What more do you need to know about Howe? Well, fear not, I’ll continue to tell you.

Pleased to meet you, Mr. Thompson

The first time I heard the name Hunter S. Thompson was in history class. A fellow cadet was reading – and absolutely loving – Fear and Loathing In Las Vegas. He’d checked it out of an exclusive section of the library only certain students had access to. I wasn’t one of those students. I think it was called something like The Bill Hicks Collection and you had to be involved in – this is a guess – Forensics to have access to it.