A professor offers one final lesson

Who has been the greatest influence on your career?

For me, it’s not someone in advertising. Actually, I’d have to go back to my first job, to an old man on my paper route. Kids in the neighborhood called him Professor Rowe even though his days teaching playwriting at the University of Michigan had long since passed.

As a paperboy, I would make a point of collecting from him last, knowing he would inevitably invite me inside for a chat. Beyond his old old farmhouse and impressive paperweight collection, what drew me in most was his desire to listen. What adult hangs on every word coming from the mouth of a 4th grader? None I’d ever met.

After my delivery days were over, I did my best to stay in touch, usually when he was out on walks. Even with his arthritic back becoming increasingly hunched over, he would come across as cheerful as ever. For Christmas and birthdays, he’d stop by our house and offer first- or second-edition children’s classics. Kenneth Grahame’s The Wind In The Willows is still on my living room shelf with the inscription: “1981: A Merry Christmas to Greg Reese with appreciation and affection. –Kenneth Rowe.”

As the years passed, his walking routine began to wane. We knew something was wrong when it stopped altogether. After he lost both of his legs above the knee, my parents and I visited the nursing home where he was recuperating. In true fashion, all he wanted to talk about was what I was up to. Baseball, probably.

Only after his death did I learn of Professor Rowe’s wider influence. It turns out he was the mentor of the greatest playwright of his generation, Arthur Miller (pictured). When his star pupil stopped by the professor's house for a visit after giving a lecture in town, neighbors stepped out of their houses to catch a glimpse of him  (Marilyn Monroe wasn't with him at the time).

I like to think of the time before Miller was famous, when he was an aspiring writer who worked menial jobs to pay his way through college. While there, he came across a professor who showed an unusual interest in what he had to say. If Miller is like any other writer I know, once he saw someone paying attention to his words, he never wanted to let them down.

On an infinitely smaller scale, this explains my career as a writer. Professor Rowe simply took an interest in what I had to say.

I’ve been writing for him ever since.