Skip
I was raised here and I have a house here. I got the house from my father. He bought it in 1957.
What's the very best thing about living in North Chicago?
For me, I would say taxes.
What do you aspire to?
What do I aspire to? Well, I'm giving up on getting a masters degree. I don't think I'm gonna get the masters. My family doesn't want me driving all the way to Chicago, because they had a stroke a few years ago. I started, but I had a little mini stroke.
But you’ve found another engaging interest, despite your setbacks.
Bushido [a Japanese martial art] is not about letting loose, it’s about teaching you a better way to live. Some people may even use the word zen, but it teaches you to think better. And it gives me something creative and physical to do.
I came to it after a broken ankle and a stroke. The instructor said “Well, you can do this movement, right?” [demonstrates a small movement]. I was limited starting off. But you keep coming, you keep working out. I'm keeping physically active. That's my biggest thing. And I'm learning things.
What was growing up in North Chicago like?
For me, I think it was pretty good. You know, some people weren't good. I would say the kids I grew up with weren't necessarily the greatest.
That’s a subtle, but pointed statement...
One of them came over to the house– came and knocked on the door: “Hey Skipper, you want to join a gang? Wanna be in a gang? We’ll be on one end of the block and the other gangs will be on the other end of the block!” He was one of those who would like to fight all the time. My mother happened to be standing there, washing dishes. She said “Skip ain’t joining no gang. You turn around and get out of here.” He was the son of a preacher.
But you had other kids that were pretty straight. Pretty good.
One of my better memories… once someone was messing with a neighbor girl at school. Her father had an asphalt company. He was messing with her and I went over to him [makes a chucking motion], and he went over my shoulders. A judo move. Flat on his back. He was so stunned he just stood up and walked away.
Are you a protector, a seeker of justice, or just a thrill-seeker?
Justice. You know, I’ve only been in two fights my whole life. One, when I was five or six years old. All I can remember is being on the ground. One guy, he bit me in the leg. All I can remember is the sky going [whistles, and makes swirling motion].
You mentioned being in the Cub Scouts, Boy Scouts, and you spent time in the Army. Is there a direct tie between your desire for justice those traditionally admirable organizations?
They all had uniforms.
If you go way back, when I was a kid there was a TV show called Secret Agent. It was a British show; came on about nine o’clock Sunday mornings. I wanted to be a secret agent…
But I wanted to be a soldier. My aunt's husband was a soldier. Sergeant First Class. He was impressive to me. I figured soldiers had guts, you know? He wasn't the kind of go out and look for any trouble, and I was impressed with that. When I got my high school diploma, I’m looking at it and walking down the hall, thinking “I can join the Army now.”
I got a job right out of high school. Worked there a year until College of Lake County opened up. I went there and studied whatever looked good. I just let my mind wander. Then I decided to go to school up in Milwaukee. They had TV repair. I ended up in school there, but eventually I came home and enlisted. Joined the Army on the same day they signed the Vietnam peace treaty [Paris Peace Accords].
My father suggested it was a good time to. He had just gotten married and it was kind of a mess at home at the time. He got married again because mother passed away a few years earlier. I was 21 when she passed. I came home from school and saw a U-Haul in the driveway. She was moving out and the divorce was going through. It wasn't a swell time at home. My taking my father's advice to go into the Army at that time was good for me.
In his later years my dad had dementia, and I was the one to take care of him. Living with him. You know; medicine, laundry. And I’d drive him around. Eventually, we put him in a daycare facility in Libertyville. After work, I’d be the one to pick him up and bring him back home.
Once we got home, he was okay. He stayed upstairs. I stayed downstairs. One time, he wanted to go somewhere: I said, wait until I take a shower. He said “I’ll wait.” He did not wait. He got up, and started walking down Sheridan Road on his way to Zion. My uncle and his son were going to work and saw him. They picked him up and gave him a ride home.
Caring for someone with dementia is uniquely challenging, and a huge job. Do you ever wish you hadn’t taken it on? Taken another route?
Sometimes I do, but regret would be a strong word. It took some work, you know. I did have family who also helped. I sometimes think I could have had my own house, but maybe it was meant to be.
One of the things you learn a lot: you learn you can do some things right, and you will make mistakes.
One thing I did right is going to Moody [Bible Institute]. I started in ’77 and finished in ’81. Four years of night school. I got formally trained. The books of the Bible, Christian counseling, systematic theology. I wanted to keep going after I got my certificate, but– now, I have to put it in my own words– God spoke to my spirit and said “No, you won’t. You’ve got enough.” I taught Sunday school and church, right up the street from here.
You’ve shared a number of your life experiences; starting down paths to goals you thought would be long-term commitments, but then getting part way and you realizing that it wasn’t for you. The sum of those experiences; what do you take away from them?
They culminate in me being here, right now. [laughter]
When I was on the way over here, I was thinking godliness with contentment is great gain. That's spiritual.
Is that from the Bible?
That’s a Bible statement. Paul, I believe.
Are those your guiding words for life? They do seem to be the thread that stitches together your life experiences.
Yeah. First thing you gotta learn– you gotta get some godliness. If you're content with what you have, and where you are; knowing you don't have to strive to be bigger. And more.
I have done crisis intervention work- telephone crisis intervention. You've heard of a suicide hotline? It was like that, but his was crisis. General crisis. I did that for 17 years until they closed it down; put the money toward PADS, which is public advocacy program– they deliver shelter for the homeless.
When you were asked earlier about things you were proud of, you declined to name anything. For most people, that kind of work is something they’d mention being proud of.
[Shrugs and smiles] I have a few stories of people I helped.
Skip outfitted in his gi, practicing Bushido.
Photo courtesy of Bushido Kyokai, in Gunree.
This conversation has been edited and condensed.