This entry first appeared in the September 21 edition of the Crawfordsville Journal Review. Its author is Sam King (pictured right), assistant editor, who covers the Wabash beat for the Journal Review. We publish it here because it’s an interesting take on why men choose to attend Wabash College.
Sam King — Gary Simkus just finished a grueling practice with the Wabash College soccer team Tuesday when I met him in the Allen Center on campus.
When I first came to Crawfordsville, it was comical to me there was an all-male college in a small Indiana city. What marketing could possibly lure 18-year-old males to further their education with another 850 males?
Simkus went to high school at Highland (Ind.), near Chicago. A Highland guidance counselor said when Simkus was in high school, there were about 1,100 students at Highland High — with a near split between males and females.
I’m sure he had more important things to do after soccer practice— study, eat dinner or even have quality time with his friends. But instead he took an hour to sit and talk to me about his adventures in other countries.
Had I not stopped him to focus on his time in Chiapas, Mexico and his experiences with hurricane victims who are now homeless, he might have talked for a week. He’d gone to other countries before spending about five weeks in Chiapas.
It’s obvious Simkus’ time in Mexico was striking. He was in disbelief the Mexican government, in his opinion, was doing nothing to help disease-ridden, poor people with no place to call home.
But what struck me was how open Simkus was. Even after filling my digital voice recorder with 54 minutes of quotes — much of that about Chiapas, Mexico — instead of rushing to get home, he asked questions to learn more about me.
When it came time for him to leave, he stopped and inquired about my college education. At that point, it became obvious that Simkus didn’t talk to me about his experiences because he had been asked to do it. He enjoyed it.
There is not enough space in the Journal Review to accurately portray everything, but I can tell you he had extraordinary experiences during his travels, which included time in Europe earlier in the summer. He saw people at the lowest point of their lives in Mexico. In Spain, he managed to forge a relationship with an 11-year-old boy. Simkus took his new friend to two Real Madrid soccer matches.
If you are unfamiliar with soccer’s popularity in Spain, imagine everyone in Crawfordsville taking four friends with them to an event and you might realize how many fans attend a Real Madrid match. I’d liken it to an 11-year-old here seeing his or her first Chicago Cubs game.
Simkus also got a chance to run with the bulls, but not in Pamplona — where the most famous bull run is held — because he promised his mom he wouldn’t run from bulls there. He walked and biked in the mountains with two friends, where they covered 200 kilometers in six days. He ran on the original track for the Olympics in Delphi, Greece.
But most importantly, his seven months away from the United States opened up his eyes and educated him about other cultures — something reading stories in a book can’t necessarily explain.
So as we were standing there ready to part , I admitted to Simkus that my college didn’t have the same moneys set aside for students to take trips, like Wabash. I’d gladly have gone somewhere, but didn’t have the funds to send myself. I still don’t.
Simkus looked down — he’s about eight inches taller than I am — and said, “That’s why I came to Wabash.”
