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July 10, 2026
Today is the 50th anniversary of the day that I left Maryland and moved to live in California for the rest of my life.
In July 1976 I was living in College Park, just a few blocks from the University of Maryland. I had graduated with two degrees, a BS in Information Systems, and an MBA. I had purchased one home on Norwich Road and had a fixed-price option to purchase a second home just six houses away. My parents had moved into the second house and I allowed them to take over my purchase of it. I had a great job working in the president's office at the University and was raising my two daughters as a single parent (with the generous help of my sister and my parents).
I should have been content with my life, but I wasn't. I applied for a job at the University of Southern California working in their finance division for an impressive leader, David Shawaker, a graduate of Michigan and MIT. In May, David had arranged for me to fly to Los Angeles for an interview with the senior leadership there. They made me a generous offer, resulting in a disquieting debate inside my head on the long flight home -- what should I do?
My parents told me all the reasons why I should stay in Maryland, and every reason made sense. But I felt that there might be a bigger future for me in California, and I chose chance over complacency, opportunity over orderly.
On Saturday morning, July 10th, the day before my mother's 52nd birthday, she stood in the doorway of her home and cried as I backed my 1968 Chrysler out of the driveway to begin the trip across the country. My clothes were piled in the back seat and personal belongings to get me through the first month in LA were in the big trunk. I also brought my Craftsman tool box, just in case. We agreed that Mom would bring the girls out to LA once I got established.
I had planned out the entire trip with brief stops at a few places of interest. But I needed to get to LA to start my new job as soon as possible. I had never been west of the Appalachian Mountains and never on such a long trip. I had (naively) made reservations at Holiday Inns at each night's planned stop, meaning that I needed to cover more than 500 miles each day or pay a penalty.
The trip went pretty much as planned with brief stops at Natural Bridge, Virginia, Gatlinburg, Tennessee, Tahlequah, Oklahoma, XXXX, New Mexico, the Grand Canyon Arizona, and La$ Vega$ Nevada. Most of the trip was on I-40 in the heat of the summer. During a fuel stop in Dixon, Tennessee, on a Sunday afternoon, the seal in the water pump failed. Such was my determination to get to LA that I walked to a parts store, bought a new pump, and replaced it in the parking lot of the Gulf station with the tools I had brought with me. This problem delayed my arrival in Russellville, Arkansas, 411 miles away, but I made it there before midnight to keep my Holiday Inn reservation and stay on schedule!
I finally arriving at the USC campus at 3:07 PM on Thursday July 15th after driving a distance of 3,258 miles in six days for an average of 543 miles per day.
My life in California proved to be a success. I had good jobs working for important organizations, and even co-founded a software company that dominated its niche market. The girls attended good schools on the beautiful Palos Verdes Peninsula and we enjoyed international travel.
When I moved to San Diego, I met Nan, who made my life complete -- a story well known to readers of this blog.
However, I never lost touch with my roots. We have visited family and friends in Maryland multiple times per year for th epast 50 years. Most significantly, the book -- my personal memoir -- and our annual Beltsville Shell Reunions, give homage to what it meant to me to be raised in Maryland.
Tribute to David and Pat Shawaker
My transition to California would have been a complete failure were it not for the friendship and support of two amazing people -- David Shawaker and his wife, Pat. David chose me to join his leadership team and offered me a great job. We became close friends and he supported my career at every turn. He was directly responsible for my selection to three different positions at USC over many years. Pat instantly realized how lost I was raising two small children in California. She helped me select schools, find sitters, told me where to shop, referred me to a realtor who helped me buy a condo, and introduced me to friends who became a support group for me.
Postscript
On July 21, 1976 I sent a seven-page, hand-written letter to my parents describing the trip. I highlighted the things I saw, the places I visited, and my first few days in California. My closing paragraph said, "I'm going to do a good job out here, and all of you will be proud of me." That goal would have been impossible but for the friendship and support of many people, including, especially, David and Pat.
