After graduating from college, I worked several jobs locally; then, at the young age of 45, I got a hair-brain idea to go to law school. The idea was planted in my head years earlier by my good friend and mentor-the late Ron “Lefty” Travis. “Lefty” and I had become close friends when I was recruited, after college, to play on his amateur traveling basketball team. As we traveled around the state to play in various leagues and tournaments, I usually rode with “Lefty.” During those road trips, he often regaled me with stories of his many cases, and the fire was lit, although it smoldered for a number of years before the idea really caught fire.
Working as a real estate agent during the day, I had to find a Law School with a night program, which was Widener University in Linglestown, Pa., just slightly north of Harrisburg, at the time a 2.5-hour commute, each way, from Williamsport. While contemplating the minimum three-night-per-week commute, I could not bring myself to finally make the decision. One night, I was listening to the radio to the talk show host Bruce Williams. A lady called in and said, I was thinking of going to nursing school, but I’m 45, and by the time I’m done, I’ll be 49 — exactly my situation. Bruce asked, how old will you be, in 4 years, if you don’t go and she said, 49 — exactly — the decision was made — I was heading to law school.
I had a leased RAV 4 but putting commuting miles on that lease was financially unthinkable. I bought a 2008 Jaguar for the commute. This car was so old it actually had exposed insulation inside the engine compartment, and did I mention it had no air conditioning? Over the next 4.5 years, my old/new ride and I became intimately familiar with every aspect of Rte. 15, to 322 to onto 39 into Linglestown. I quickly learned all the speed traps and would instinctively slow down and waive to the police as I went by.
Mentally surviving the 2.5-hour commute each way — this was before Rte. 15 was vastly expanded from a two-lane cow path — was a challenge. After about one year, it became quite boring and lonely, as talk radio and music can only carry you so far. Leaving Williamsport around 4, getting to my first of 3-night classes by 6, and then heading back about 10 or so, and arriving back in Williamsport about 11:30, I would head right to Joey’s Place for a beer and a Hoagie, then off to bed, then to the real estate office in the morning, then at 4 back in the Jag to repeat the cycle! I needed a companion to share this grind.
Passing through Allenwood one commuting day, I noticed a sign that said AKC Registered Shepherd Pups for sale, pointing behind a nearby beer distributor in the middle of the town. There I found a litter of 6 pups and both the mother and the father dogs. As I began to make friends with one pup, another one came up and purposefully clipped/bumped my lower leg—I looked down, and she looked up, and I said — that’s the one! So she actually picked me! I later learned that Shepherds, as herding dogs, often clip the side of sheep to keep them in line and going in the right direction. This pup obviously knew I needed some companionship and guidance, so into the back seat of my 2008 Jaguar sedan she went, and on to law school, we both went, having many one-sided but nevertheless amazing conversations along the way. I would head to the car between classes or during breaks, and she would be waiting patiently. A quick walk around the parking lot to let her do her business, then back in the car, she went as I hurried back to class.
What was missing was a name for my new companion, and I wracked my brain trying to come up with a suitable one. Then one day in my Torts Class, I noted that every day, at the end of class, making some Tort-like point, the professor would say, “now I want you to go home and Ponder this tonight,” and voila, my new companion was that night officially named Ponder! At graduation, I had a chance to speak with my Torts professor, and I told him that I loved his lectures and named my dog Ponder after his nightly closing directive. I thought it was funny — he didn’t! Luckily, I had already passed his class!
Realizing, of course, that leaving your German shepherd inside your car was not the brightest of ideas, I decided to buy a kennel-in-a box which I assembled; I thought, well, just outside and next to the steps to my 2nd fl. Apartment. The next day when I left on my commute, I put her inside the fence, and off I went, alone. Well, that night, it rained buckets, and when I got home to check inside the kennel, she was gone! As I trudged up the stairs, literally crying about the loss of my new companion Ponder, there she was at the top of the stairs, on the landing, with water running off the roof directly onto her head and her with a typical welcome home smile and tail wag that only dog owners can really appreciate. I’m still amazed she did not run off, and she traveled with me to school from that day till graduation and never complained once!
So, some 4.5 years later—I had taken a semester off to recharge my depleted battery—I took the dreaded bar exam. You would find out one of two ways if you passed-check online to see if your name was on the list or wait till you got a rather large envelope in the mail—which meant you did not pass-but; they were always nice enough to supply you with a new bar application, to try again, with another fee of course. So, the first two times I took the bar — yeah, I was one of those — I checked the computer list, and surprisingly, at least to me, my name was not on the list. So now it was time to pack it in or plow ahead, and as is my nature, I chose the latter. I had to borrow the bar application fee from my good friend Ron Travis, re-applied, and headed off to Valley Forge, this time armed with a laptop so the bar readers could actually read my eloquent essays.
Months go by. I promised myself I was not going to check the computer list, but if I got the dreaded large envelope in the mail, I was done — time to find yet another career. Ponder and I were having a blast, participating in Search and Rescue and taking long walks at Canfield Island and other places. Then one day, the large envelope arrived, and my heart sank. I went into my home office and threw the envelope on my desk and began to curse and swear as I threw my law schoolbooks and study guides into a cardboard box, saying that’s it, I’m done, over and over. Ponder looked at me and cocked her head sideways, as dogs tend to do when they have a question, probably like what has happened to my master. Then a little voice inside me said, open the envelope and accept what is. I slowly did so, pulling the cover letter from the envelope, and the first words I saw were, “Congratulations, you have passed” — I threw the letter up to the ceiling and started to dance, whooping it up, again with Ponder still looking at me in total bewilderment.
Ponder has been gone for many years, and the Jaguar was sold long ago. Still, I can’t help every time I look into the backseat of any car and think so fondly of Ponder sitting there patiently, her unwavering friendship and commitment, and of her helping me get through that commute and get my law degree.
