It's a story a couple of people know. Seeing as though I found the one person truly responsible - even if he didn't know it - on Facebook today after literally ten years of looking - I feel inspired to reveal the real reason I ended up at Western Carolina University.
Back in the very early 1990's, I met a man named Steve Mitchell. I never met anyone quite like him - then or since. He was (and still is as far as I know) deeply intellectual, liked death metal, and had a real protective nature. I enjoyed that friendship and hate that I let it go like I did. At any rate - lets fast forward to 1995. My cousin Andy and his wife and I went to see a movie called The Cure.
I won't reveal the ending but needless to say, I was reduced to tears. For about three weeks, I couldn't even think about the final 20 minutes without weeping like I had lost someone dear. The weekend after I saw this movie, I kept thinking about the person who looked like the main character of the film. I decided - sight unseen - that I would drive directly to where I thought this person would be.
I got a map, got in the car, and drove to Cullowhee, for the first time. When I got there - Steve had gone home (literally 5 minutes from my home) and I had driven three hours to find an empty room - but met some other people who continue the story.
The crux of the story is this. Unless I had known Steve and really looked up to him, I would have never gone to Western, met Laurel Risher (now Bozeman), and determined my future would lie there.
I wanted everyone to know that all the things, people, experiences, travels, nicknames, and brotherhood I found at WCU was thanks to one person.
Steve - this post is for you.
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