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Happy accidents

A dinner conversation with an old friend was just getting into an interesting subject when dessert was served. After only a few idea exchanges, the meal was over and I never got back to Joe’s interesting premise — how simple incidents in our lives can completely turn the direction of our life’s journey.

Oh sure, there are major occurrences that we expect – school, graduation, the right job after the long courses or years of study, marriage, family – the hopefully predictable. But sometimes what happens seems so minor or so ordinary that we don’t even notice until much later how we arrived where we are – who or what pushed us in a direction we never saw coming.

I started thinking about the turning points in my life and realized how often happenstance had intervened – little, circumstantial changes of direction.

An early direction catalyst was a small town high school teacher. Miss Sullivan taught “Contemporary Literature and Thought” to only fifteen selected students. She awakened an insatiable curiosity for all things cultural, but I certainly didn’t think of myself as either artistic or intellectual in any way. I had had zero exposure to the classical music, architecture, art, poetry she drew us into. Miss Sullivan stretched our intellects (as much as was available at ages 15 and 16) and challenged us to lifelong learning. The door she opened was life-changing. And I’d been chosen because? I had no idea.

But five year later, I was out of college with still no real direction, having struggled with three majors and none of them sticking. I was interested in just about everything but settling on nothing.

The one thing I did realize was that if life could be nothing but books, music, theater, museums, travel – and more books – it would be great. Just not greatly realistic. That resulted in being 21 years old with no work direction and hoping to cobble together a plan that would pay the rent (and maybe an occasional theater ticket.)

A friend of mine knew exactly what she wanted to do. She desperately wanted to be one of those glamorous stewardesses and travel the world, but she did not want to go to the airline interview alone. That evening I found myself in a large room of friendly, well-mannered, young women. The talk was infectious, the nervous excitement was palpable. I decided as long as I was there I might as well fill out an application. It was for United Airlines. By the time my sign-in number was called for the interview, I had read all the literature and I was downright smitten. But I was an inch too tall and the interviewer rudely dismissed me.

That got my goat. So I did my homework. PanAm, United and Eastern were not hiring stewardesses over 5’8“. American and TWA had raised the height limit to 5’9”. Aha. Now I had something to be interested in. And it might get me to some of those wondrous places I needed to see.

I applied to both airlines. American’s acceptance came in the mail a day before TWA’s. Looking back, had it been the other way around, I would have flown off to Kansas City instead of Dallas for training and probably not have wound up in New York City with my new fun roommate, a native New Yorker. We became dear lifelong friends and she’s the sister I never had. The friend in Boston who had taken me along to the airline interview for moral support did not get hired. Serendipity? Happenstance? Who knows. But life changing? Absolutely.

And so was the party I attended in San Diego – which I would never have experienced without working for American. There he was, the man. The man, who after a tumultuous three-year courtship, married me on Cape Cod and was my best friend for forty years. Serendipity? Happy accident? Life changing.

And so it was with opportunities, job changes, moves throughout this long life. Even the reason we came to Warren.

Tom was an executive for a large company that had transferred us from Connecticut to Wellsville, New York. After four years in that little berg, he was looking to leave for a bigger opportunity and was working with an executive recruiter – a headhunter. I was looking to leave Podunk. Wellsville was nice but it was very small.

Then a headhunter called one night asking for a favor. He had been unable to find anyone willing o look at a particular job in Warren, Pennsylvania. “It’s about 100 miles away and I’ll pay your expenses.” Tom liked the recruiter so they settled on a Saturday and where he was to meet two officers of the company for lunch.

He arrived back home in time for dinner with a job, a negotiated salary and a start date. That NEVER happens. After driving over here to look at the town (I did think it was pretty) and the housing market, I told him I could live there. For a sentence of two to four. That was forty years ago this autumn. Serendipity? Happenstance? Nope, just life changing. And happy.

We all change along the path and yet if we’re true to ourselves, much of whom we are stays the same.

I don’t happen to think now, with so many years to look back on, that many of us have control of our lives. It seems to me that life gradually evolves more than it happens. And all with little side trips to serendipity and happenstance that inexplicably show up filled with opportunity .

Of course opportunity to do the wrong thing, to take the wrong path is always present, but that’s another subject altogether. I just don’t have the insatiable curiosity to explore that life direction.

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