It was a furious battle: Heracles, the son of Zeus, and Antaios, the half-giant son of Gaia, wrestling to the death on the sands of the Libyan desert.
“So neck to stubborn neck, and obstinate knee to knee” they fought, the poet Wilfred Owen writes, “and peerless Heracles/could not prevail, nor get at any vantage…”
Then Heracles learned the secret of Antaios’ strength—that “vital connection to the Earth” Brad Jones ’10 describes in his essay in this issue of WM.
So the son of Zeus gathered all his might (“up his back the muscles bulged and shone/Like climbing banks and domes of towering cloud”) and hoisted Antaios into the air. With his feet off the ground and cut off from that vital connection, the little giant lost his bearings and his power. Heracles crushed him.
It could be a cautionary tale; Little Giants should remain grounded. Unfortunately, the analogy breaks down quickly—Antaios roofed his temple with the skulls of his victims. Not exactly the Gentleman’s Rule.
Still, I know Wabash men who draw their strength from their connection with the earth, including sons of farmers who, no matter their own vocation, need to keep a little dirt under their fingernails to stay sane. I’ve met Wabash writers, mathematicians, philosophers, theologians, artists, and entrepreneurs whose cerebral musings must be balanced by long walks in the woods or deep breaths of mountain air.
But that’s not how co-editor Mark Shreve ’04 and I arrived at the theme for this issue. We had planned a different focus but realized we already had in hand remarkable writing and photography from alumni, students, faculty, and friends. Reading Brad’s essay revealed what they all had in common—we had our theme.
So here you’ll find vital—as in life-giving—connections: Between people and the land in Jones’ 15,000-mile drive across America; between macro photography and meditation in Kelly Sullivan’s underwater photographs; between service and “ownership” in Greg Castanias’s essay about his father; between love and guilt in Matthew Vollmer’s powerful essay, “An Imperfect Gentleman;” between a daughter and her father in Emily Justice’s moving remembrance of Courtney Justice ’63.
Tom Brogan ’88 explores how our senses connect us to the ancient past. While creating a memorial, Doug Calisch makes friends with a man he never met. James Jeffries examines the vital connections between a liberal arts education and the working world, and Todd McDorman studies the links between baseball and memory.
Of course, a liberal arts education is all about wrestling with difficult questions and making synaptic leaps between disciplines, just as the Wabash community builds bonds between lives.
The social researcher Brené Brown defines connection as “the energy that exists between people when they feel seen, heard, and valued; when they can give and receive without judgment; and when they derive sustenance and strength from the relationship.”
Put it that way and connection becomes what we offer at Wabash —what we strive to teach young men, and, in the process, nurture in one another. It’s good work we do—together.
Thanks for reading.
Steve Charles | Editor