As soon as I finished reading Mitch Albom’s Tuesdays with Morrie, a book about Albom visiting his favorite college professor, Morrie Schwartz, who had Lou Gehrig’s Disease, it inspired me to call my favorite professor at the University of Oregon, Art J. Jacobs.
Art had moved on from Oregon to the University of Florida in 1966, taught there for twenty years and then retired. We wrote each other every couple of years. We even saw each other twice—once when I went on a trip around the United States in my VW bus in 1974, and the other time when he and his longtime companion Charlie Beason visited San Francisco in 1978.
Art was a TV and radio production teacher, one of the first in the nation in the early 1960s. I was a TV cameraman for him while he directed me in a beginning French language class that was shown on all of Oregon’s public TV stations. Art took me under his wing. He cared for me and encouraged me because we were both Jewish, and Jews were rare in Oregon in the early ’60s.
I’ll never forget a conversation we had about the future of the human race the night before I left his house in Florida in 1974.
“We’re learning,” I said, “that if ever there’s a Third World War very few people, if any, will survive.”
“You’re going to have to defend that statement, Joe.”
“I feel it, Art. I know it. We’re learning how to prevent from blowing ourselves up.”
“How?” he asked.
“We’re learning that the earth’s supply of oil and coal is finite and dwindling. We’re learning how dangerous nuclear waste can be. We’re learning that we need clean sources of renewable energy to survive on this planet. We’re learning newer and safer methods of birth control. More people around the world are becoming literate. More people are voting. Fewer people are starving. The equality gap between men and women is getting smaller as each year passes. Those are signs that we humans are becoming more civilized.”
“I don’t agree with you, Joe. We’re still producing weapons that can wipe out all life on this planet. What I see is a trend, a trend towards rigid thinking. When people start thinking their way is the one and only way, that’s the stuff of the Middle Ages. Even you and I are a part of this whole mess we’ve gotten ourselves into. We humans are so contradictory. We believe in peace, yet we’re letting our country build more devastating weapons. Oh, Joe, I wish I knew how we could live in a more peaceful and just world. I don’t see any hope for us.”
“I still think the human race is learning and going forward, Art.”
“I think we’re going backwards.”
“What about Nixon? Aren’t we on guard to see he doesn’t take advantage of his office?”
“Yes, thank goodness, we are. But I can see future presidents doing much worse than him.”
“Don’t you have faith in the future, Art?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because I know what we humans are made of. We’re vicious, greedy, power-hungry animals. We’re like adolescents. We have a long way to go before we become mature human beings. I don’t know if we’ll ever get there.”
“I’m not going to let your pessimism take hold of me, Art. I’ve got to be optimistic, otherwise what’s the use of living, striving, hoping?”
“Ah, to be young again, Joe. Keep thinking that way, my boy. Maybe your generation will prove me wrong.”
In 1998 I called Art in Florida because Mitch Albom’s wise sociology professor Morrie Schwartz reminded me so much of Art. Charlie, his partner for many years, answered the phone. After a brief hello, I asked Charlie, “Can I speak to Art?”
“Oh, Joe, I’m so sorry to tell you this, but Art passed away last year.”
I was saddened to my core because I didn’t get a chance to say goodbye to my wise mentor and friend, Art J. Jacobs. It was like hearing that my mother and father had died. Tears streamed down my face after I hung up.