Three Men of Note

Sometimes I lose things. It's not an intentional habit, but it is a habit that has followed me to college.

Most times it's something trivial. A pack of gum, maybe a couple of note cards. Yesterday, however, I lost my press badge-- one of the things I loved to wear the most this summer, more than a freshly dry cleaned seers sucker suits, with a cane to match.

My initial reaction was upset. That press badge had been with me the entire summer, through lazy weekends and Tuesdays where I had to cover three stories in one day.

However, as I wrap up my last full week as a media employee at the University of Oklahoma, it seems fitting that I lose the press badge at this time. It's sort of a symbolic transition doo-hingy.

That being said, I would like to talk about three people who I met along the way in my journey of reporting for three different media venues consecutively— three men who each impacted me in their own unique way.

First man: Kyle Butcher, Couch Center Coordinator. Kyle has been a very busy man this summer-- on top of his normal duties with Housing and Food, he has been organizing and preparing to launch a new transfer student organization that he will be co-advising with his wife, Kacee.

Kyle and I crossed paths at the transfer session of Camp Crimson in June, and we immediately hit it off. Not only was Kyle an alumni from the same fraternity and chapter as I, but we have the same UZoo combination-- porpoise, eagle, lion, koala.

That last sentence likely makes no sense if you're not involved in student life at OU-- suffice it to say, we had a lot in common.

I got the opportunity to sit down with Kyle a few weeks later in his office to interview him for a story I was running on his new transfer organization, and we ended up talking for nearly two hours.

Kyle was a transfer student to OU, transferring from a much smaller university. He transitioned well into Sooner life-- as one might guess since he is now on the Sooner payroll-- but he's keenly aware of the difficulties that many transfer students face.

“We want transfer students to see all the university has to offer," Kyle says. "We don’t want them going to their classes, and then going straight back to their cars.”

 Kyle is just incredibly difficult not to like. He's one of those guys that you want to partner up with, get behind and say, "Whatever you're doing, I want to be a part of."

And apparently, I wasn't the only one who thought that.

Kristen Partridge and Zac Stevens, well known faces in the world of student life at OU, handpicked Kyle for this organization. They recognized that Kyle was equipped and passionate for the job at hand, and put him at the helm.

 "He will be a voice for students and their needs as well as someone who can give us data about how transfer students' experiences are unfolding at OU," Kristen says.

In sum, Kyle is a big man who’s going to be doing big things on the transfer scene—and I’m no fortune teller, but it’s not a stretch to say “future dean of students”.

Second Man: Henry Neeman,  Director of OU OSCER, a branch of OU IT. I sought Henry out because I was doing a story on the supercomputer Boomer, the fourth and newest supercomputer in OU's history. Henry and I only spoke briefly, thirty minutes at the most, in his office-- but the talk was memorable.

Whereas Kyle is the passionate man bringing change on the campus life scene, Henry is a catalyst of change for the research campus, a segment of OU that remains a mystery to many OU students.

The conversation started on-topic, but within ten minutes time we were simply talking about all things innovation and technology-- including the up and coming Google Glasses (which if you haven't seen, you need to. Now.) and as we progressed in our talk, it became clear to me that Henry was just a huge fan of OU.

“What it takes to constantly move forward with research is cooperation between the administration and research community – which OU is really good at," Henry says. "I'm constantly astonished, but never surprised."

There are many well-known passionate employees at the University of Oklahoma-- but many of them have their offices in the Union's student life wing. 

What made Henry extraordinary is that, despite the fact that he’s not at the heart of campus going-ons, he believes in the vision that President Boren has laid out for OU-- better yet, he's intent on inspiring and pushing his fellow employees.

"One thing I ask our researchers is 'if you had an infinitely fast computer, what would you do with it? It gets them thinking beyond today," Henry says. "I want them to dream bigger."

While it's men like Zac Stevens that orchestrate colossal programming achievements like Camp Crimson, it's men like Henry Neeman that can keep Sooner spirit alive on a cold, wet February Monday.

And that's a hard thing to do, folks. I've tried.

Third Man: The last man I'm going to talk about is as different from Henry as Henry was different from Kyle-- and he's arguably the bravest man on this list. Since I don't know the man incredibly well, we'll dub him by an alias. The last man I want to talk is "Jeff"-- Jeff the security guard.

I met Jeff at Camp Crimson’s Retro Night when I was a small group leader. I was out on the Molly Shi Ballroom balcony, taking a break from the 700 person rave that had broken out inside. I struck up casual conversation with Jeff because we were the only two outside.

I anticipated small talk. What I got, instead, was an incredible story.

Jeff, who is nearly 60 years old, has been working in security almost his entire life. When he was younger he had manned armored cars for banks, but after raising his children he decided to go into a security service company.

Jeff is the kind of man you have likely seen wearing a yellow vest on OU game days trying to direct traffic and keep order-- with no gun or badge, to add to the challenge. 

He's dealt with every yelling, screaming, drunk 40 year old alumni who tries to park where they can't park, and he gets treated like the absolute scum by most of them.

Not exactly the ideal career for someone pushing 60. But that's not all he had on his plate.

 Jeff is raising several of his grand-kids, the oldest of which is has a tendency to get hot-headed.

Jeff's solution? He got the 14-year old into football, and cut him a deal.

Jeff is in communication with his grandson's coach, and he watches most of the practices. Any time his grandson gets angry, talks back to his coach or acts out, he owes Jeff 10 push-ups when they get home.

However, whenever his grandson gets through a day with perfect behavior, Jeff owes his grandson 10 push-ups-- a bargain his grandson holds him to every time.

"We'll get home, and he'll just look at me, and say, 'uhh...grandpa, you owe me 10," Jeff says. "I tell him to go take a shower, and he says 'I will, just as soon as you drop and give me 10."

Again, not the ideal situation for a someone entering their golden years. I had to ask him, how did he handle raising his grandchildren like that at his age and hold a job? Being an OU campus life/leadership junkie, I reflexively expected to hear things like "I set a goal, and made steps on how to get there" or "I set an example of integrity that I expect them to follow."

 His answer wasn't long, but it held power in it.

"Someone's got to do right by them," says Jeff, "And if it's me that's got to do right by them, I'll do right by them.”

I don't know where Jeff is right now. I probably couldn't even pick him out on the street. But his story has been in the back of my head for nearly three weeks now. His story is so powerful to me because there isn't a higher cause, there isn't an end goal, and there isn't anyone helping him out.

He saw a problem, he got invested, and sought to right the issue—even if that meant taking on the role of a father at 60.

And while that's a story I never found an excuse to publish in the Sower, Daily, or Yearbook, I'm glad I can express it through this venue-- because Jeff's story is the one I wanted to share the most.

 However, I'm thankful for the time I spent in OU media.

I was exposed to many people and attitudes this summer, and not all of it was great, but it's people like Kyle Butcher, Henry Neeman, and Jeff the security guard that remind me of something-- 

There are good people in this community, who are doing great things, for the right reasons.

So in short-- thank you.

And as always, thank you for reading-- Boomer Sooner, and God Bless!