Bernie Swain - What Made Me Who I Am

TOM BROKAW

Tom Brokaw tends to be humble regarding his intelligence, often telling this story about his alma mater. After Brokaw became the NBC Nightly News anchor, Washington University in St. Louis called his college advisor at the University of South Dakota. Wed like to know more about Toms scholarship during his undergraduate days because were giving him an honorary degree, they said. In an instant, the college advisor responded, Well, we always thought the degree we gave him was an honorary degree.

The part of his life Tom shared with me is a powerful public service announcement for mentors, and how they change lives. Certainly, this was Toms experience and he shares the influences and defining moments that many of us, if we take notice, may find in our own lives.

I was born in 1940, a product of South Dakota, where my familys roots run deep. Both my parents came from rural, working-class backgrounds and grew up during the Depression. My mother, Jean Conley, lived on a farm where they mined gravel. My father, Anthony Red Brokaw, came from a family that owned a small railroad hotel. Both families worked tirelessly and made little money. Their valueshonesty, fairness, diligencesustained them.

Dad was a construction foreman for the Army Corps of Engineers. We moved several times during my childhood when he was assigned to a new project. He was a mechanical genius. If a machine had a motor, he could run it. If it was broken, he could fix it. On weekends he made extra money repairing cars and tractors. My mother, who worked as a post office clerk, was a bright woman who should have gone to college; it was simply out of reach economically. She was a voracious reader, a good writer, and the best editor Ive ever had.

Mom was always interested in what was going on in the world. She and I would listen to the radio news every night (we didnt have a television until I was fifteen), hanging on Edward R. Morrows every word. She loved politics, and she passed that passion along to me. The 1948 presidential election, in which Harry Truman upset Thomas Dewey, was a huge event in our housewe were dirt road Democrats and Harry Truman was one of us.

Dads job allowed us to move into the middle class, but my parents took nothing for granted. When you live through something as devastating as the Depression, the memories of struggle remain fresh. But by the early fifties, America was overrun with optimismthe economy was booming and the future was filled with promise for families like ours. We settled in Yankton, South Dakota, with a population of nine thousand, the biggest town wed ever lived in. The schools were excellent, and the community had a real core to it, imbued with those prairie-state values that did so much to shape me.

I thrived in Yankton. I was student body president, active on three sports teams, had the lead in the class plays, and was named governor of South Dakota American Legion Boys State. In that capacity, I visited New York City with the states governor, where we made a joint television appearance. Accomplishments and awards came easily to me, and I began to take them for granted. One of my school friends later pulled me up short when he told me, Tom, you rode that charm pony all over town.

I had a classmate in high school named Meredith Auld. Her father was a prominent doctor in Yankton. She graduated number two in our class, was class vice president, was an excellent musician, excelled at the University of South Dakota, and was even crowned Miss South Dakota.

Meredith and I were good friends; she was a cheerleader and I was a jock, and we shared a lot of laughs. She was everyones picture of the ideal girl. But when it came to romance, she would have nothing to do with me. I had a bit of a reputation as a ladys man, and she told her friends, Im not going near that guy.

By the time I went off to the University of Iowa in Iowa Citythe first person in my family to go to collegeI was a whiz kid and everybody thought I was destined to accomplish world-changing deeds.

Then I crashed and burned.

I couldnt handle my newfound freedom at college. I rarely went to class, instead majoring in beer and girls. I once hitchhiked across the Midwest in the middle of the night, wound up in Minneapolis, and crashed on a friends couch for five days. Of course my parents never knew.

Eventually I dropped out of school and got a menial job working in Sioux City, Iowa. I was surrounded by people who were struggling, many of them working two jobs and dealing with marital problems. I thought, This is not the life that I want, and I moved back home, only to get a letter from Meredith. She let me know what she thought of me in pretty scathing terms. The letter was a real eye-opener for me. It was a friend doling out some very tough love.

I enrolled at the University of South Dakota in Vermillion, but I still wasnt ready to start behaving. Then I met Dr. William Doc Farber. Doc was a brilliant political scientist who had joined the faculty at USD in the middle of the Depression and been a mentor for generations of South Dakota kids. His ex-students included governors, senators, Rhodes Scholars, and successful businesspeople. His legacy is still growing: both of South Dakotas recent senatorsRepublican John Thune and Democrat Tim Johnsonare Farbers boys.

Doc Farber stood about five feet four and carried a few extra poundshe was a compact bundle of energy, exuding enthusiasm, encouragement, and curiosity. His passions were directed into the school and his students.

Shortly after I enrolled at USD, Farber invited me to dinner. We talked about the usual range of topicsbooks, politics, school. Then, over coffee and dessert, he said, I have a plan for you. I want you to drop out and get the wine, women, and song out of your system. Come back when you can do us all some good. At first I was stunned, expecting, especially after such a nice dinner, that he would encourage and coddle me. Then I thought, Geez, this is my ticket to party. I went home and told my parents Docs advice. They werent thrilled.

It wasnt what I had hoped. In the summer of 1960, I was twenty and living at home, working odd jobs, and feeling a little sorry for myself. The only thing that really excited me was the presidential election between Richard Nixon and John Kennedy, which Mom and I followed obsessively. Election Day was Tuesday, November 8, and I sat in front of the television in our living room from 7:00 p.m. until 8:00 a.m. on the morning of November 9, when Kennedy was finally declared the winner. That night changed my lifeas I watched Chet Huntley and David Brinkley report on the seesawing vote totals, I said to myself, This is what I want to do.

I got a job at a television station in Sioux City, Iowa, doing weather reports, station breaks, and the news, and I began to commute to the university, trying to patch up my erratic record. I would get up at 5:30 in the morning, get in the car at six, drive up to the university, go to class until noon, drive back to Sioux City, work until eleven at night, and get up and repeat it the next day. I worked six days a week and made $75.

Doc Farber helped me get through it by designing my curriculum to fit my schedule. He was leaning over my shoulder the entire time; he even set a minimum grade point average I had to attain. Farber ran a tough program; your final paper had to be masters degree quality. Mine was on Henry Kissinger, who was little known at that time. Because of my work schedule, I was late getting it finished, and I hoped Farber would give me a waiver so that I could graduate with my class of 1962. No chance. He said, You owe me that paper. You dont get your degree until you finish it. So even though I had fulfilled all my other requirements, I didnt get my diploma until I finished that paper in 1964.