Dale Matson
The seasonal smell of Jasmine on my
daily walk in Fresno today reminded me of my arrival here from Wisconsin to
interview as the School Psychology program director at Fresno Pacific
University (Then Fresno Pacific College). It will be twenty-seven years on
Wednesday. That morning 27 years ago, I began my day with a morning run. The motel security guard cautioned me about the frigid 50-degree morning. I had to laugh
to myself about his weather caution.
I was wearing shorts and a tee
shirt and decided to run around the Fresno Airport. I could smell Spring
everywhere. I dodged the lawn irrigation in the industrial park and guessed the
grass must be real. At the time I had never seen Bermuda Grass. The smell of
Jasmine in bloom anchored forever that experience in my mind.
The previous morning in WI, I had run two
miles on a snowy road wearing a face mask, long pants, gloves and a jacket. April
is still Winter in Wisconsin but well into Spring here in Fresno.
Twenty-seven years ago, I was still
a Midwesterner at heart. I was born and raised in southeastern Michigan. I was
there for 24 years minus a two-year stint in the Army. I spent the next 24
years in Wisconsin, moving there when I got married. The plan was for my wife
and sons to move to Fresno after my older son finished his last year in High
School.
I had completed my doctorate and
opportunities were scarce for middle aged white males. I found this tenure
track job in Fresno and decided to interview for the job. I got the position and
drove out in my car with my wife late summer. It was hot when we arrived mid-August.
It was 115 degrees hot!
She said, “This is too hot. I could never live here.” And it
came to pass. We divorced the following December.
It was a
difficult beginning for me with a new job in a new location living by myself in
a one bedroom apartment. Working kept my mind off my loneliness but the weekends were
long. I would often park by the Fresno Airport and watch the planes take off.
Should I be on one headed back Wisconsin when the year was up?
One of my colleagues
lent me his camera and I began to head to the national parks on the weekends.
Yosemite and SeKi Parks are only about an hour away. I was simply captivated by
the mountains. There were also popular trails to hike and run. After a time, I
began to look forward to the weekends with new adventures awaiting me in the
mountains.
I also met and
began running with a group every weekday morning. They were my first “church”,
although I did join a church in Clovis where I also me my wife of 23 years.
I said to one of my running friends,
Dave, one morning, “I should have born here.” He replied, “You don’t have to be
born here but it’s important that you get here as soon as possible.” Every year
the smell of Jasmine reminds me of Dave’s wise statement.
