"Ask not what your country can do for you--ask what you can do for your country," said our new president, John F. Kennedy, at his inaugural address January 20, 1961.

I heard his speech in the Student Union at the University of Nevada and cheered with hundreds of my classmates when he took the oath of office. A callow second semester freshman not yet old enough to vote, I watched the man who'd stirred my emotions throughout his campaign and debates with Nixon. Usually he smiled, but today he was serious while speaking directly . . . to me.

His words, though spoken with an Eastern accent, were eloquent. I, who'd never been east of Elko, listened attentively. A WWII hero, young, handsome, and rich, was talking about the importance of civic action and public service. Would I choose such a career for myself? Did I have the guts to defy my father?

I'd long wanted a lot of things: to be a teacher, to attend Stanford or Cal, to at least live away from home in a dorm on campus.

"Why go out of state?" my father asked. "We've got a perfectly good university right here in Reno and you can live at home. It's a short commute. And teach? There's no money in that. You'll major in business, as should my son."

He'd grown up in Europe, had a doctorate in economics, and owned a store a block from Reno's famous casinos. Not a night went by at the dinner table that he didn't reiterate his dream: "We'll be partners, Son!"

Because I hated the business courses I'd been forced to take, I was a lackadaisical student. After JFK's speech, I silently rebelled.and secretly registered for my first education course. The next year and a half I took several more my father never knew about.

In 1963 two events turned my world upside down. On May 10th, during a snow storm, I drove my car off a cliff in the high Sierras. The car was totaled; I was badly injured. When I returned to school in the fall, I declared my new major: Secondary Education. My father bristled, but I was now twenty-one.

Then in late November, Lee Harvey Oswald assassinated my hero. Though devastated, I fully committed to JFK's request. Two months later I began to student teach.

In early June, 1964, I graduated and accepted my first contract. My teaching career began that September. By Christmas, my father began introducing me proudly as "my son the teacher."

Public service is not a career for everyone, but it suited me perfectly for forty years. I loved the classroom where I excelled at teaching writing. I cherished my students and my colleagues. I especially enjoyed living in the community in which I taught and being appreciated for my efforts. And Kennedy's legacy has been passed on. My daughter is a wonderful teacher.

Many thanks, Mr. President, for your sage advice and encouragement.