Marshall—

RE: Editorial Errors—Robert to Richard

Thanks for reading the article seriously! Honestly, it is getting scarier as I'm making more editorial errors. You're catching them at age 73 and I'm making them at age 80. What concerns me is that I have 5 more books to write/edit; now this worries me. Bill

If someone is collecting such stories as this, please throw away the previous version and replace it with this one.

wes

THE YOUNG MAN TAUGHT ME A LIFE LESSON

(RE: Richard Epson)

It was in our 4^th decade of life—and our 24^th year of marriage—that we burned our bridges and left Kansas for an internship with the Ecumenical Institute in 5^th City. After our assignment to move into the facilities at 4750 No. Sheridan, my summer assignment was working in the 5^th City Print Shop just up the street from the Program Center.

            What a place! An old web-printer using huge rolls of newsprint, even older multi-stage folder, a machine to make large paper imprints to be used on the web printer, and a variety of other equipment that is lost to memory.

            A secondary room contained a large round table used to collate mounds of materials for The Academy, RS-I curriculum, and mailings. Collating teams were assigned to work all-night putting curriculum together plus getting out a large mailing for whatever purpose.

            Regarding the temperature, summer nights usually were comfortable while day-time was hot and sweaty. Winter was cold: period. In summer, at all hours of the day and night, the back door to the place was usually open, and this was accomplished by drawing chains to raise or lower a steel garage door through which deliveries entered and exited the place.

            The summer of my employment, a young man was in charge—obviously a man-of-the-spirit. I suppose he was in his late 20’s or early 30’s. His age was not a concern for me, rather my concern was how to fulfill his expectations of me; a sign of leadership to be sure. He inspired trust and loyalty.

            While living at Kemper, he impressed me one Sunday morning when we both went out to the paper box, each putting in our money while a nearby worldly gentlemen attempted to steal a paper before the door closed. My colleague quickly remonstrated him while taking the newspaper from him. Then, on the way back to the lobby, he asked me to help him pick up the street of some of the trash—a task I was pleased to help accomplish. It is this nature and quality of this personality that was deep; this fellow had depth to him that is remarkable.

            His name is Richard Epson. He was introduced to the Order by Jim and Alice Baumbach. They became colleagues in the summer of ’69 while in Houston. While the Baumbach’s attended the Urban Academy, Richard was assigned to the print shop.

            The print shop work could be intense. Many a hot Chicago night we would raise the garage door for ventilation and danger. The danger was the little neighbor kids who would run down the ally and throw rocks into the room. Of course we could hear their approach and one of us would yell, “In coming!” I’m certain that the rocks lodged in the old printing press didn’t do it any good either.

            It is the folding machine that is the best illustration of the kind of colleague Richard represented. This was a long—maybe 15 feet—pile of junk. The grabbers used in the folding process were very, very, very worn out—it needed replacement. Its basic ingredient was the frustration of its operators. That damned machine would eat papers. It consumed more materials than we actually saved—or so it seemed.

            Very early in my indoctrination, Epson gave careful instructions on how to baby this baby along. Soon something went wrong. I picked up several copies on the floor and started to hand-fold some of them that were mis-folded and had a few ink marks and foot-prints impressed on them.

            Richard stopped the machine, noticed what I was doing and reminded me, “Bill, our work is not glamorous, but what we do is to prepare materials in such a way that each participant only struggles with their soul rather than, ‘How did my copy get so messed up?’”

            The lesson I learned is that the print shop was an important cog in the machinery addressing the soul of each student. Richard Epson embraced this philosophy of life and was able to translate it into action; this is what made the print shop missional.

            Now, in 2014 I’ll be 80. I’m functioning a lot like that blessed folding machine, and at the moment there is no replacement for me. Consequently, I work to keep it operational. Someday, I’ll be out in the pasture along with my memories of a young colleague who had a vision of preparing the materials to address the life and soul of those who “walked a mile” to have their lives addressed. He addressed mine too.

            Thanks!

            Bill Salmon

            Order member 1974 to 1985 and forever

            A colleague on the Journey to the East