Unofficial Biography
Gary E. Neuman
My career goal as a young man was to be an astronaut when I grew up. My interest in
the world, my curiosity, desire to explore; they all go back to a very early age. Ad
Astra! (To the stars!) Well, it was about when I turned three, when I ran
away from home. I lived in a small Western Pennsylvania town of about 10,000 people, including the college students.
Located about a mile away across many blocks, streetlights, traffic, railroad tracks, little me figured my way
to my cousins' home. I vaguely recall this trek and particularly the reaction of my aunt when she answered the
front door and looked down to see who was at her front door. My mom was freaked and for several years after that
whenever I played out back she tied me to the clothesline. (Gees!) This constraint only increased my desire to
get out in the world and by the time I reached high school I was intent on not just going to college, but going
away to college. Life has ever since
been for me a journey away from provincialism.
Highlights from my early years include the challenge of understanding the female gender. I never had a sister and
it never occurred to me to ask mom about girls—hey! What did she know? She was just Mom. The first encounter I
remember with a girl was in kindergarten when I kicked her. I kicked her because she was being stupid with me.
Took me awhile to realize that, yes, stupidity was involved, but not where I thought at the time. But another female,
the teacher, had no trouble immediately figuring out an appropriate response—I was immediately spanked in front
of God and country.
My early desire to get out (from wherever I was) had one unfortunate consequence. The town's elementary schools
were within walking distance of home and we were let out to go home for lunch. But one day in first grade, my teacher
had gotten annoyed with my talking and held me back. Gasp! This just couldn't be! I'm (once again) embarrassed
before all my class! Remarks were made as the students all walked out. And I'll be late for lunch!! My parents
will want to know why!!! (Yeah, Dad came home, too—the guy with the paddle.) What will I tell them? AAAHHH!! But
wait! I see the teacher walking her students outside. The day is a warm Spring day. The large window leading to
the outside fire escape is open! Wow! Out I go like a shot! (Are all these exclamation points bothering you?) Some
kids see me. Gads, can't get away from embarrassing myself!? Well, with a little running, I made it home just in
time. Just in time, that is, for one of my little puke classmates to see me going up the back porch and yell, "Hey,
Mechler, how did you get home so fast, since you had to stay?" One spanking and miserable lunch later, with
my mother personally returning me to the teacher, I found myself having to face the teacher right outside the classroom
door, with the kids streaming by. (More embarrassment!)
But she was merciful, and I promised I would never exit the classroom by the fire escape without permission. And
I never did.
I don't recall speaking with a girl until sometime in 8th grade. Well, I had a crush on a little sweetie in 2nd
grade, but I don't know if I actually talked with her, because she was in Miss. Woods' class and I was in, well,
I don't remember my teacher's name. Brainiac in the making. During my adolescent years I pretty much stuck to science,
science fiction, and sports. I kept tally of books read during my Sophomore year and it was 116, if I recall correctly.
(I probably don't; I don't remember what I did last Thursday.) My first date was with a ninth grade girl. I was
a Junior. She was several inches taller than I. We went to a movie and had a nice little walk afterward. I kissed
her (another first and an improvement over kicking) at her door and, since I had no clue what to do next, that
was that. As she was the town's Methodist minister's daughter, that was probably just fine. In my Senior year,
I went to the prom, but only after my parents made me take a nice Presbyterian girl from my church. Enough about
girls; it only went downhill anyway until, uh, well, enough about girls.
I was also a macho man in sports. In baseball I could never hit a home run. (Why am I reminded of girls?) And,
in one of the oddest things I have ever done, I played football for the high school. It was challenging enough
going out, but I did it all four years. Look, I've never claimed I'm a fast learner. Let me rephrase that part
about playing football for the high school. Coaches are always in need of blocking and tackling dummies and I was
assured a place in practice; that was pretty much it. Throughout my four years, I was either the lightest kid on
the team or next to the lightest. It was one of my most amazing endeavors, considering that I was a small kid having
as his strongest desire pain avoidance. But football did teach me one thing. Seriously-it prepared me for life
by repeatedly driving home the point that you will get knocked down. And the best way to deal with it is to pick
yourself up. The way I see it, one aspect that separates the winners from the losers is not that the winners haven't
lost, but that they have lost and picked themselves up and eventually moved on down the field.
College was hard, yet enjoyable. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that I majored in physics and minored
in math. I liked the atmosphere (the girls!) and gradually began to like the very process of learning itself. The
knowledge I was gaining was interesting. I was growing!
I began to really see the world and the world itself became more interesting. I began to learn the meaning of scholarship,
objectivity, and critical thinking—basically getting a brain. The Wizard of Oz was right when he said to Scarecrow
that a degree is not really the goal. It is a symbol of the goal. The really important part of getting a brain
is the learning process, involving knowledge and how to assess it and use it. For me, this process really took
off in graduate school. It was in graduate school when I first really began to notice that a lot of people settle
for second-rate knowledge and understanding. This has been the great dismay I have had from getting a good education.
Three cheers to the teachers and professors of Grove City High School, University of Pittsburgh, and Case Western
Reserve University.
I have had other "special" moments—crashing my motorcycle at 75 mph is right up there in my list of great
achievements. But you get the idea. And maybe you have figured the real reason I went into education. I had picked
up the flame. I carry the flame. And I want to pass it on.
Gary E. Neuman
Tucson, AZ
February 29, 2009