Where did you turn to before Google? Do you remember? The library? The phone book? Asked a friend or called 411? What did you do when you were curious to know one of the top songs in 1986? (Sledgehammer by Peter Gabriel) Or when you wanted to know the name of the 16th president? (Abraham Lincoln)
I asked a few people what they did B.G. Some shrugged, while a few admitted they didn’t know they were curious about wanting the information until the answers became so readily available.
I remember exactly what I did Before Google. I had a personal source. Still do. Many others use this source as well. Some call him Richard or Ricky or Rick, but my sisters and I simply call him Dad.
Dad was a straight-A student at Boston Latin School. He aced his SATs and graduated from Clark University before attending Yeshiva University in New York City for a doctoral program. But that plan was cut short when he was drafted and joined the U.S. Navy at the height of Vietnam. After serving two years and now married with a daughter (guess who?), he saw a well dressed man in a suit carrying a briefcase and walking down a Boston street. When Dad found out the man was an attorney he thought that was a more direct way to earn a living than being a psychologist. “I wanted to do something concrete and leave a mark at the end of each day. When I get an idea I try to follow it up,” Dad said.
It was summertime. Wearing a T-shirt, shorts and sneakers without socks, Dad walked into Northeastern Law School. “There was only one other guy there and he was dressed like I was.” Turns out, it was the dean and they had a nice talk. After listening to Dad’s background and skills, the dean arranged for Dad to take the LSATs the following week. (Note: The LSATs recommend a minimum of three months of study before taking them. Just sayin’.) Dad scraped together the $50 exam fee and took the test. Out of 1,400 applications for 40 seats to Northeastern Law, Dad got one of the top scores. “They called me and said, ‘we’ll take you.” That fall he enrolled.
Now, 45 years and over 10,000 cases later, is it any wonder we still go to Dad before Google?
Happy Father’s Day Dad!