Today I am thinking of John F. Gardner, my teacher, my friend, the most intelligent man I have ever known. (apologies to Noam Chomsky and my godfather, John Kelleher, both men of towering genius.) Today it is 100 years since John was born.
John Gardner wrote many of his thoughts in his books and articles. But sitting with him time and again (sitting at his feet) he blew my mind by the way in which he connected everything. He always gave me a tighter, broader, deeper outlook into any subject we touched upon.
I often asked him about his life and childhood. When I first met him, he appeared patrician, handsome, athletic, very well connected. I knew he had had a good education, but his growing up stories were anything but conventional. My recollections are somewhat fuzzy so, don't hold me to the fact, but rather to the impression. Here are some stories that bring this man to life.
His father, Jack Gardner, was a union instigator. The family moved from mining camp to logging camp where his father would drum up support for unionizing until all hell broke loose and the marshals came and in the ensuing ruckus, strikes, walk outs, beatings, the family would move on to another camp. John had happy childhood memories of eating beans in mess halls with gnarly hoards of men. And skiing in Colorado. No school that he remembered. There were a bunch of kids (5?).
Then when John was 14 or so, he was sent to Princeton to get some education. The memory he shared of Princeton was that he was way too young, way too outdoorsy, and got headaches from the lectures. So he retired to his room with Moby Dick for however long he stayed there. Melville became a major influence in his life along with Emerson and Whitman. Years later he wrote a book about these three men called American Heralds of the Spirit.
Then came a time when he accompanied his mother to Europe with at least one baby and her other children. His mother was having a nervous breakdown and they went from hotel to hotel in Switzerland and other countries (?) finding restful and healthy places for her until something would go wrong and they would flee. Sounds a little like the mining camps.
Somewhere in this continuum, John read some works by Jung. He decided he had to study with this man and took a long train ride accompanied by some bottles of wine and rushed to Jung's house to announce that he would be his student. Jung asked him in and they talked. Jung said he didn't think he was what John was seeking. He sent John along to Dornach to look at the work of Rudolf Steiner. Jung was right. This was the fit.
The story didn't slow down for another 70 years. I am so happy we met. I am so happy I found a teacher and a friend.
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