My parents were Mansfield grads, and no one loved the college more than my father, Alphonse S. Zastavny ‘52. In 1948, he left a little coal mining town in Pennsylvania and stepped onto campus to pursue a teaching degree. Growing up, I remember that many of our family friends were in fact my parents’ friends from college. I grew up feeling the joy Mansfield added to their lives.
Fast forward to 1974, when I began looking at colleges.
I had no intention of going to MU. Virginia-bound I was hoping. As a young adult, the thought of going to the college my parents attended didn’t seem appealing, despite all the stories and friends.
My parents were pushing me to apply and despite not wanting to, I did.
Just because.
Then the dreaded day arrived when I came home from school to THE envelope waiting for me on the kitchen table. Written across the front was “Yahoo!!”
I picked it up, found it already open and immediately knew what “Yahoo!!” meant. Dad snooped and couldn’t contain his excitement. My heart sank. The University of Virginia and Gettysburg didn’t work out, so I decided to look no further and make my parents happy.
In August, when the day came to leave my New Jersey home, Mom and Dad drove five hours to get me to campus in time to settle in before classes. This is how I recall some of our parting conversations went in my new dorm room: Mom: “Well, you need to stay here and make a life on campus, Linda, so don’t come home until Thanksgiving.” Me: “Ummmmm. OK.”
This time around Dad let Mom do all the talking. Minutes later I stood alone, surrounded by a large blue trunk, bed linens and my first bathroom bucket. I walked over to the window in time to see my parents drive away. I had a sinking feeling in my heart. I felt sad, lonely, and stranded. This is not where I wanted to be. That’s when I started to unpack and I noticed a letter on the dresser. I had no idea what it was until I opened it.
Dear Linda,
So much activity going on, I just don’t seem to have a chance to talk father-to-daughter with you. First of all, I want to tell you that I’m very proud of you.
You’ve done all that I’ve wanted you to do and you did it without giving me any flak. You brought this to mind just a few days ago when you never questioned the 11 o’clock curfew, even though you’ve graduated H.S. Certainly, I would have agreed to a later curfew had you mentioned it. You know I do appreciate this loyalty and concern on your part. I should have thought about it.
Well, now you’re on your own. I’ll not know your coming-in time, but I’ll not worry. I’m sure you’ll handle yourself properly because you’ve proven to me that you know right from wrong, obedience from disobedience, and propriety from impropriety.
I really don’t have much advice to give you at this time. You’ve shown me that you can handle yourself even though in some areas you’re pretty klutzy. But those areas don’t really matter that much. I guess what I really want to say is ---study hard, be proud of your accomplishments, use your time wisely and enjoy your college experiences. I love you. Dad.
I was so thrilled that I had lived up to his expectations and was a daughter that he could be proud of. My dad had a very strong work ethic and a very strong sense of values. He was a no-nonsense kind of guy who expected a lot but gave even more in return. He loved us fiercely.
My second reaction to that letter was sadness, in the sense of “I was here at MU rather than at some other college.” But Dad always said, “Linnie, things always work out for the best.” And he was right. Later that day I met some wonderful girls. The first was Amy Kelchner, ’79, who lived across the hall. She walked in smiling, introduced herself, and assured me we’d have fun. Amy has become a lifelong friend. That year I met many more special people in class, on the field hockey team (Michelle Drenchko, ’79 and Cindy Miller, ’79) and on the Delta Zeta floor in Laurel B.
The year flew by and when it was time to leave campus, I wasn’t even finished packing. My life had become busy and full and so much fun, just like Amy promised. When Dad showed up in May to take me home for the summer, I produced more tears. “When I left you were crying and you’re crying again now,” he said. “I don’t want to go home,” I wept in response. “I love it here, Dad.”
The Writer
Linda Zastavny Berry ’79 is a retired elementary school educator who now lives in Ambler, PA. She volunteers at the Ronald McDonald House and with the Malcolm Jenkins Foundation. Linda spends much of the fall cheering on her favorite Super Bowl team, the Philadelphia Eagles.
