February 22, 1940 Georgia Tech
His eyes scanned the precisely typed grade list. The mechanics professor always listed his grades by score not by name, so there was no easy way to quickly find his success. He knew not to look at the top, As his eyes continued to flow down the sheet of paper, his classmates faded away as they saw their scores. Sighs of relief came from those who were worried, while one boy kicked a trashcan as he was graded much lower than he thought he should have been. Ted could not find his name on the first page. The second page was the page of failure. The top score was a barely acceptable 73. He was not at the top of the list. Sixty-eight.
“Damn it” was the only thought in his head and he apologized to himself for swearing in his soul. Engineering had been a struggle for the past seventeen months. It was a promise to get out, but soon he would be forced out. He could build with his hands and read plans but the math and the ability to walk through a project always eluded him when he was told what to solve. The tall, broad shouldered, always popular young man backed away from the bulletin board, away from the crush of the other hopeful students and wandered.
The campus in February was desolate and it provided few options to comfort a student who would soon be advised to find a different career than that of an engineer. He could go back to Appalachia, or he could move to Atlanta. There was a third option, the Navy was recruiting young men with some college, good reflexes and good eyes. If he could talk to a recruiter before his final grades disqualified him, he might have an option.