We don’t live forever

Mother Lindley (1922-2018).

One of my two favorite professors at Houghton College, Katherine Lindley, MA, PhD, died March 8th.
It’s hard to know where to start.
Dr. Lindley began teaching at Houghton during my sophomore year — she graduated Houghton in 1943. She was married to Kenneth Lindley, who began teaching physics and science at Houghton at the same time. Dr. Lindley taught European History and Political Science; I majored in History and minored in Political Science and Philosophy.
Dr. Lindley gave the History Department two fabulous professors. Most had only one, or NONE.
History had one other fabulous professor, Richard L. Troutman, MA, PhD, also a Houghton-grad. He was enough to make me switch majors. Dr. Lindley made History even more attractive.
I call her “Mother Lindley” because she was the mother I wish I had. My actual mother became less demanding when she realized my father was losing me. But she wasn’t Dr. Lindley.
My values are Dr. Lindley’s values: mainly “Get it Right.” Despite my being an utter mess, perceived by others as stupid, rebellious, and Of-the-Devil, she cared about me, probably because of how I thought. My penchant for pillorying self-declared holier-than-thou’s, and purveyors of incredible wisdom.
Others perceived me as threatening, yet Dr. Lindley found me interesting. Dr. Lindley, plus others, loved having me in class.
Once she was extolling the virtues of “the middle-of-the-road.” “But Dr. Lindley,” I said. “What if the middle-of-the-road is wrong?” She kept going, but it was clear I punched her in the gut. “He has a point. That Hughes-kid always makes me question.”
This was true of much of Houghton. I’ve never regretted attending. Houghton began reversal of my dreadful childhood. It was the first place adult authority-figures solicited and valued my opinions. Instead of automatically declaring me rebellious.
Dr. Lindley was the one who suggested I became a scholar. It was probably because of the way I thought. I deferred. Scholarly pursuit seemed driven by posturing = “I know more than you; nyah-nyah-nyah-nyah-nyaahhh!”
I came to Houghton desiring to prove the altruism of our nation’s founders. I left frustrated. For every argument there was an equal and interesting counter — i.e. “they have a point.”
I left it all behind; I had a life to live.
Dr. Lindley was also the first authority-figure to note my wife-to-be and I were coming together. “I see two of my students are finding each other,” she observed. She was probably thrilled — well beyond the assessment of my sanctimonious judges.
And now she’s gone — the lady who set my direction. Many of my professorial contacts at Houghton were similar, but she was foremost. She’d quickly whip out her red pen to point out flaws in my thinking. She wasn’t elitist. “That Hughes-kid gets me thinking.”
The picture is from my 1966 college yearbook. She made 96; her husband died 12 years ago. I considered driving to her viewing, but that was last night before I started writing this, and 75 miles distant.
And there’s a pretty good likelihood others attending would perceive me a threat = “one of those radicals (GASP).”
Her obit tells of the many lives she effected, and I am but one. Still messy, but marked by “Mother Lindley.”

• I graduated “Houghton College” in western New York with a BA in 1966. I’ve never regretted it, although I graduated a Ne’er-do-Well, without their blessing. Houghton is an evangelical liberal-arts college.