Al Kyte's Life Take-Aways

               

     As an undergraduate at the University of California I was invited along with several other athletes and student leaders to participate in a “Big Brother” project.  It was an innovative program developed by the juvenile division of the Berkeley Police Department.  The idea was for each of us to be a role model for one troubled, fatherless boy by spending at least 20 hours a month sharing various activities with him.  I was assigned an 8-year-old boy named Jimmy.  

     One day I took Jimmy fly fishing for bluegills, teaching him to cast and retrieve the fly just below the water’s surface so he could see the fish take it.  After fifteen minutes or so without catching a fish, however, Jimmy was getting frustrated.  It didn’t help that he could hear the shouts from another boy who had caught a fish or two.  So I decided to let my own fly sink from view and retrieved it until I felt a fish hit.  I set the hook on that fish and looked over at Jimmy.  He hadn’t noticed that movement so I gave enough slack to the line to keep the rod from bending.  Then I said, “Jimmy, would you hold my rod while I take our jackets back to the car?”  He held my rod for a few seconds without knowing he had a fish on.  As I was slowly walking away looking back over my shoulder, either the fish finally moved or Jimmy moved the rod because he suddenly yelled out that he had a fish on.  When he landed that first-ever fish a moment later, he looked up at me and said, “Al, you should have seen it hit!”  Interestingly he had no problem catching fish on his own after that.

     Jimmy had a twin brother, Johnny, who hadn’t been in trouble and felt it was unfair that Jimmy was having such good times with a “big brother” when he had to stay at home.  As a result I began taking both boys with me on our adventures, which worked out just fine.

     One day I took them to a public swimming pool, planning to teach them to dive head first just as I had recently learned to teach in an aquatics class.  I had the boys stand in shallow water as I walked down the side of the pool a ways to demonstrate the diving technique in somewhat deeper water.  But I underestimated just how deep that basic dive would take me.  I made my dive and emerged from the water with blood flowing from a dollar-sized abrasion on my forehead.  I had scraped my head along the bottom of the pool.  Looking at my face, Jimmy said, “I don’t think I want to try that.”  Not the best start to a teaching career.

     The most important lesson I was learning during that time was that a boy’s pain in not having a father in the home might best be eased somewhat by another man stepping in and spending regular, caring moments with him.  I continued on with Jimmy and Johnny for another year or so until I graduated and was called away to military service.  Meanwhile Jimmy had no further problems with the law, and I had my first glimpse of a calling on my life to mentor people in need.