Starting from Scratch: A Memoir

By John A. Brighton and Gemma McLuckie

Raised in a chaotic household during the Depression and World War II in a small Indiana town, Dr. John Brighton felt trapped from the first day of school. Because of undiagnosed hearing damage and ADHD, he was labeled as slow. It wasnt until he discovered engineering that he even considered going to college. Counselors predicted he would certainly fail. Instead, he proved the naysayers wrong and earned a mechanical engineering PhD from Purdue University.
In Starting from Scratch, John Brighton, former provost at Penn State University, shares insights gained during almost fifty years at prestigious institutions such as Michigan State and Georgia Tech. His work as a teacher and administrator touched thousands of students, while his fluid mechanics research was vital to assisting damaged hearts.
Parents whose children are in difficulty can take heart in how John Brighton overcame his own challenges. Professionals seeking to improve their skills will find sage advice on management.
Starting from Scratch weaves a fascinating story that traces the arc of a successful academic career, but shows that loss can come even in ivory towers.

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: Sep 30, 2016
• ISBN: 9781532006364

John A. Brighton

John Austin Brighton, a native of Gosport, Indiana, retired as senior executive vice president and provost at Penn State University in 2002. A professor of mechanical engineering, he also directed departments at Michigan State University and Georgia Tech. He and his wife, Dr. Cheryl Achterberg, live in Columbus, Ohio. Gemma McLuckie, an award-winning writer and editor, retired as a communications director at The Ohio State University. She lives in Gahanna, Ohio.

Book preview

Starting from

Scratch

A Memoir

John A. Brighton

with

Gemma McLuckie

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STARTING FROM SCRATCH

A MEMOIR

Copyright © 2016 John A. Brighton.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

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Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

ISBN: 978-1-5320-0635-7 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-5320-0636-4 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2016915971

iUniverse rev. date: 09/29/2016

Contents

Dedication

Acknowledgments

Introduction

Section 1 • EARLY LIFE IN GOSPORT

CHAPTE R 1 • The Big Picture

CHAPTE R 2 • My Father and Other Influences

CHAPTE R 3 • A Boy’s Life in Typical Small Town, USA

CHAPTE R 4 • Slow Learner through Ph.D.

CHAPTE R 5 • Smoking and Other Life Threats

CHAPTE R 6 • A Spiritual Journey Takes a Sudden Turn

CHAPTE R 7 • My Stepfather’s Challenge

CHAPTE R 8 • Summer on the Farm, a Friend, and a Tragedy

CHAPTE R 9 • Freedom and Endangerment

CHAPTE R 10 • The Brighton Name Lives On

Section 2 • FORTY-SEVEN YEARS IN HIGHER EDUCATION

CHAPTE R 11 • Reconsidering a Decision (Carnegie Institute of Technology, 1963-1965)

CHAPTE R 12 • A Great Fit (Penn State University, 1965-1977)

CHAPTE R 13 • Signing Up for the Team (Penn State Heart, 1972-1979)

CHAPTE R 14 • Taking the Reins (Michigan State University, 1977-1982)

CHAPTE R 15 • A Challenge Arises (Georgia Institute of Technology, 1982-1988)

CHAPTE R 16 • Back to the Future (Penn State University, 1988-2002)

Additional Materials

What Is Penn State University Going to Look Like in Five Years?

The Changing University: Forty Years, One Coach, Five President

Stages of Strategic Planning: Assessment, Strategic Planning, and Execution of the Plan

Department Head Leadership Development: Lessons from Experience

Vita of John A. Brighton

Summary: College Education and Higher Education Career

Places I Have Lived

College of Engineering Certificate of Appreciation

Dedication

T his book is for all young people who, like me, have had a slow start in life. You may think, or maybe have been told, that you can’t go on to college. I hope my life story will inspire you to find the grit and determination to prove you can do it. If finances are holding you back, remember that 70 percent of college students today work while they study. Get going!

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Acknowledgments

I have a lot of people to thank for their help.

My editor, Gemma McLuckie, joined me in a joint effort to complete this exploration of my life.

My former colleagues and good friends Gus Rosenberg at Penn State University and Bill Wepfer at Georgia Tech made sure my memories were correct. Gus pointed us to additional sources of information, such as the Project Bionics oral histories, while Bill made valuable suggestions for improvements.

I appreciate those who over the years gave me incentives to show my worth, even the counselors who told me I would fail at Purdue University. They did not know how they helped me get through my engineering courses. Because of their skepticism, I had to do it.

My research on the Penn State Heart would not have been possible without Bill Pierce, who invited me to partner with his team at the Penn State Milton S. Hershey Medical Center, Penn State College of Medicine. I also thank the students, staff, and fellow faculty who worked on various parts of that exciting project.

At Georgia Tech, the students, teachers, and administrative leaders came together to make our School of Mechanical Engineering into a thriving, well-respected program. The Woodruff School’s growth continues today under Bill Wepfer’s leadership.

Numerous people helped in obtaining photos and permissions, including Candler Hobbs, Georgia Tech; Meghan Manlove, Penn State Milton S. Hershey Medical Center, Penn State College of Medicine; Jacqueline E. Espositio, Penn State University Archives; Travis Curry, Spencer (Ind.) Evening World; and Hannah Frederick and Alex Fejfar, Ames, Iowa, Historical Society.

My older sister, Joyce Pettijohn, was the family historian. Her careful preservation of our childhood photos allowed me to see the people I loved once again.

I mustn’t forget my pals at my Starbucks office, who were very eager to read the finished product.

Finally, but not last, I thank my wife, Cheryl Achterberg. Her support encouraged me to continue even as the project grew to be much more complex than I had expected.

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Introduction

W hen I retired after almost fifty years in higher education, I started to think back on the progression of my life, hoping to discover more about myself. I remembered challenges and where and how ideas and solutions came to me. There were times when I had no preparation for life or career. I had to start from scratch, as the saying goes. But I had inner determination, as well as a large dollop of curiosity. Together, they resulted in a satisfying life and successful career.

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There were few signs during my Indiana childhood of the advenures and accomplishments ahead. (Brighton archive)

This book is structured so readers may choose to read what I learned during two very different times of my life. The first stories are about being the middle child of a large family living in a small town during the Depression and World War II. The second section shares what I learned from forty-seven years as a teacher, researcher, and administrator at five universities.

My childhood recollections are deeply personal. They show the good, the bad, the small, and the large. Small-town Gosport, Indiana, may seem a place isolated from world-changing events. Instead, my family and friends directly felt their impact. My mother, a young war widow, toiled to raise the six of us. My own restless spirit took me down dangerous paths that easily could have turned the wrong way. My refusal to learn could have meant lifelong failure. However, my stories demonstrate how even the most ill-prepared child can overcome educational deficits. In my case, I discovered a love of engineering that allowed me to pursue a life I had never conceived.

After barely graduating from high school in 1952, I had no plans except to get married and find a job to support my new wife. I never dreamed that I soon would enroll in Purdue University, earn three degrees in mechanical engineering, prepare future engineers, apply my own skills to help heal the human heart, or lead respected mechanical engineering departments, an engineering college, and an entire research university. I’m sure my family and childhood friends could not envision it, either.

As a professor, researcher, and administrator one of my strengths was in evaluating a situation and setting up collaborations to correct deficiencies. (Maybe that began from being the middle child in a large family.) As each problem presented itself, I gathered a team and made its members comfortable enough to contribute their own thoughts and opinions. Together, we came up with solutions. The steps I took can be translated to many jobs and situations. I think my descriptions, whether humorous or serious, of how I applied this technique will help people in all kinds of professions.

In the More Materials section, readers interested in Penn State history will find speeches I made while provost at the university. For those seeking advice on professional development, documents in the section explain in depth what I learned about strategic planning and transitioning to management. Also included are my vita and summaries of events in my life and career.

How ironic that a boy like me, one who felt trapped in a classroom, would end up spending my entire life in school. Parents may take heart in seeing how I turned around and found a path to a profession. Their children can, too. Perhaps the events that led me to earn a doctorate and reach the top levels in higher education will inspire others who are unsure of their direction in life. I truly believe attending college and earning degrees can help all men and women achieve their goals.

This is my saga so far, but it is my hope to add chapters. My last bit of advice is for every person to start writing a journal. Like me, they may uncover their inner selves and perhaps reach an understanding of how their backgrounds influence their decisions, for good or bad.

As for me, I am still a nontraditional student. I have embarked on an exploration of the link between religion and war. I am studying the thoughts of experts, but am making my own decisions as what is or what isn’t. Someday soon, I will share what I find.

John Austin Brighton, April 5, 2016

Columbus, Ohio

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Section One

Early Life In Gosport

STORY ONE

The Big Picture

M y life story begins eighty-two years ago in Gosport, Indiana, population seven hundred, where I came into the world on July 9, 1934. I was born in the home of my maternal grandparents, Austin and Noati Wampler, but lived in a home owned by my paternal grandparents, Doug and Dora Brighton. Boy, talk about grown kids coming back to live with their parents! In this case, my father, John Douglas Brighton, also brought his wife, Esther Wampler Brighton, and their kids. I was behind my brother and sisters, Billy Joe, June, and Joyce, and in front of two more brothers, Jim and Jerry. It was a very small house with a large number of people living in it, but I didn’t think it odd. The ten of us crowded into two bedrooms, a living room, a dining room, a kitchen, and screened porches in the front and back. When I was around five years old, we added a small bedroom for my two older sisters. Grandfather Doug slept in the dining room, while Grandmother Dora slept in the living room.

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Grandfather Douglas Brighton was in the center of our lives. (Brighton archive)

Heat came from coal-burning stoves in the living room and my parents’ bedroom.

People were always sitting in or walking through the living room, or standing close to the stove to keep warm. In the middle was Grandfather Doug’s rocking chair, where he read paperback Zane Gray westerns and smoked his pipe. It turned out that the pipe was a useful medical device. When I had one of my frequent earaches, Grandmother Dora would tell him to put down his book and blow smoke into my ear, an old-time cure that some people still swear by. Dr. Stouder (Gosport’s only doctor) also tried to improve my poor hearing by removing my tonsils, among other treatments. However, my inability to hear continued to prove quite troublesome as I entered school.

I was lucky to survive Grandfather Doug’s treatment because the smell of the pipe made me sick. Even so, it may have contributed to my not taking up smoking later. You might say it saved, or at least extended my life. Out of the ten of us, only Grandmother Dora and I did not take up smoking. In the end, five of my family members died of cancer, with four of those suffering from lung cancer.

The kitchen had a wood-burning stove for cooking and an icebox cooled with large blocks of ice. It really is true that kids would follow the iceman’s wagon and gather up ice chips. Our property included a garden, woodshed, chicken coop, outdoor toilet, and barn.

Gosport is situated on the west fork of the White River in south-central Indiana, forty-five miles south of Indianapolis. It sits directly on the Ten O’Clock Line, the 1809 northern boundary of the Indiana Territory. History has it that the governor and Little Turtle, chief of the Miami tribe, established the line by following the shadow of a spear set up at ten in the morning. Back when I was growing up, Gosport had two restaurants, three Protestant churches, two grocery stores, a tavern, drugstore, hardware store, Masonic Lodge, bank, feed store, shoe store, small tarpaulin manufacturing plant, blacksmith shop, three gas stations, and no stop lights. Two railroads (the Pennsylvania and the Monon) and the state highway ran by the edge of town.

The Gosport School was central to the town and, most importantly, to my family. Our house backed up the schoolyard, which was very convenient for keeping six children entertained with pickup softball games throughout spring and summer. The outdoor basketball court also was busy most of the time because when others showed up, we would get a quick contest going. We definitely relied on the money Grandfather Doug earned as the school janitor. My first paid job was helping him.

Even though this was the 1930s Depression, I don’t ever remember not having enough food. At home, my mother’s and Grandmother Dora’s work was never done. To provide food for all of us growing children, they planted a very large vegetable garden. In the summer, with Grandfather Doug’s help, they tended and weeded it. In the fall, Grandmother Dora canned what they harvested. Milk came from two cows kept in our neighbor’s pasture across the road and milked in our woodshed. Hens provided eggs.

Our house was situated between two roads. On one side was the cow pasture, which gave us a long view of the White River Valley and traffic on the state highway going toward Spencer. From the front porch in the summer, we watched breathtaking sunsets. We saw another wonderful sight as dusk fell. Flying in from the cornfields were hundreds, maybe thousands of starlings hunting a safe and warm place to rest for the night. The flock swirled in one synchronized dive over the school and then, like magic, was sucked down the chimney. Those quiet evenings, we could hear dynamite explosions miles away at a quarry as workers broke stone to be dug out the next day. Much of it ended up in buildings in the big cities north and east of us.

Like many in Gosport, my ambition as I grew was to get away to those big cities and make a living. Indianapolis became my goal, a place where I could establish a home much different from the one I grew up in.

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STORY TWO

My Father and Other Influences

I cannot remember my father ever speaking to me.

Even when we children misbehaved, it was my mother who disciplined us. One memorable afternoon Father drove home to eat lunch and take a nap. My younger brother Jimmy and I decided to pretend we were driving. Jimmy started playing with the keys Father left in