Assistant Vice President, Enrollment Management
Director of Admissions
Acting Director, International Affairs
Director of Admissions
Acting Director, International Affairs
He's one of those go-to guys top administrators rely upon to get important things done. But what JD really does is build teams and teach them how to get jobs done. Team building's JD's special genius. He has a special eye for selecting the right people, training them, and teaming them. He intuitively knows when to step back and turn them loose on a job.
Charismatic beauty, brains, and a caring disposition are three fundamental building blocks of leadership. JD has these qualities in abundance. He's a natural-born leader. Among other things, that means people are drawn to him and want to follow his direction. They want to please him, work with him, and win his confidence.
I met JD nearly forty years ago, when I joined the small faculty at then Saginaw Valley College. It happened that Bob Pratt -- the new basketball coach at SVC -- moved into the same apartment complex the same day Nancy and I did. Nancy and I and the Pratts became friends.
That first fall and winter, Bob would leave early on home-game afternoons to get his new team ready. Nancy and I would pick up his wife, Terry, have a quick supper, and rush to the game. That first late fall and winter, the three of us would be the home crowd. The entire crowd, in fact.
And that's how we came to know JD. He was SVC's point guard. And he was gorgeous: 6'3", slender, tapered and strong, powerful and tough as a driver, master of blind passes. A ball hawk, too -- tough rebounder. Most of all, he had the sweetest leaping, one-hand, set shot I have ever seen. He could hit with either hand from anywhere. And had there been a three-point shot rule in those bleak-old-days, SVC would've swept the conference those two years we watched JD play.
SVC's enrollment was under 1500 in those early days. SVC was a commuter-college. There were four small dorms, two small classroom buildings, and the new Wickes Hall, a three-story edifice that housed administration, faculty offices, and ten classrooms. There was also a free-standing gymnasium. Alas, Coach Pratt had no scholarships. Recruitment was not easy.
JD played for the fun of it -- a throw-back to the good old days. In fact, all Coach Pratt's players -- all seven of them that first year -- played for the same reason: they liked the game.
And they were good at it, too. SVC was the fledgling team of their conference that year. All the teams they played lost to them -- until the final two or three minutes. It's difficult for a team of seven players to last a full game against a team with twice the players. That they led larger squads into the final minutes of that first season was surprising. That they won about half their games is astonishing.
Winning basketball games has to do with wonderful coaching, strong desire, and superb physical conditioning. Disciplined team-work and solid shooting matter. But I'm a Hoosier. For me, solid floor leadership is most important. You got some rangy kid who can bring the ball down unmolested against a tough press, can rip the nets from way out, can set picks and drive, can pass like a phantom -- then you've got confidence. That one leader makes you know a score is likely every time down the floor.
That was JD. And he was beautiful: cool and easy, confident without arrogance, smart and personable. He was that kid you knew could win the game right out from under you if you relaxed one minute too early. He could catch another team off guard, because he didn't seem the least bit intense or mean. He made it look like every game was just evening-after-supper-pick-up. Kinda like all-friends-fun. Then he'd nail you with a hot streak, and you couldn't come back fast enough.
I loved to watch him play. Everybody did. There was an easy grace to his every move. Win or lose didn't really matter. Watching JD lead and play is what made the game worth watching. I don't know how to make exactly clear what I'm trying to say here. But when
And a game is something that should be played. It's not life or death. And it shouldn't be commercialized as it has been. Or largely spoiled in all the ways we've done our best to spoil it. I know I'm a cock-eyed Idealist. But when I tell you I loved watching JD play basketball, loved watching him delight in the game -- that delight in play is what I mean.
I don't remember exactly how JD's administrative career began at Saginaw Valley. In those early days, nearly every professor and administrator was housed in Wickes Hall. Somehow, JD wiggled his way upward in Admissions until he became Director. At some point he was told he should get a master's degree in educational leadership. So he did.
During that period he took two graduate classes from me, and I got to know him well. He was so bright and so much fun in class I didn't really wanna pass him. He was that graduate student who asked important questions, helped formulate discussions, and related important ideas to his ongoing work as an admissions director. You get a student like that on your team you hate to let him get away.
By the early-nineties, SVC had grown and become Saginaw Valley State University. One reason for that was that as Admissions Director, JD sent recruitment teams out across a 26-county area in east-central Michighan. Every year, his recruitment quota went up. Every year his recruitment teams met or surpassed the assigned quota. Our academic programs burgeoned. Faculty multiplied. Buildings popped out of the ground.
The performance of his recruitment teams was all the more surprising because Central Michigan University, a fine and fully-established university was (as we say) right down the road. It's safe to say that every undergraduate and graduate student we attracted we had to steal from CMU.
Don't mistake this irrefutable fact: universities are serious businesses. They're highly competitive. Their programs must be up-to-date, based upon solid research, and they must produce results in the field. Good teaching is also important in drawing students.
Recruitment is also important. Every facility must be state of the art. Every program must be top-notch. And the whole must be sold. JD's teams always met their quotas. And they still do.
I visit campus about once a week. Old faculty friends greet me like the Ghost of Christmas Present. I tell them my present to them is that I don't bother them as often as I might.
I always slip two quarters into a meter over at Wickes Hall and stop to visit JD. Unless I see him in the midst of a recruitment pitch with some parents, I walk into his office like I own it. He always jumps up from his work-table and whacks me a double-hand-High-Five.
Big grin: "Hey Bobby! Lookin' GOOOOOD, Buddy!"
He always astonishes me. Still looks early twenties -- less a little hair. I always make a big show of looking him over carefully and telling him: "Trim hair, trim body!"
Somehow he manages to look stronger than he did as a young ball-player. I know he cheats. For years I've seen him out road-running during his lunch break.
I always wink and grouse: "What-IS-this? Ever-buddy but you get's old!"
He hugs me real big, then pokes an accusing finger into my chest: "I'll get old when YOU get old!"
Charismatic beauty, brains, and a caring disposition are three fundamental building blocks of leadership. JD has these qualities in abundance. He's a natural-born leader. Among other things, that means people are drawn to him and want to follow his direction. They want to please him, work with him, and win his confidence.
I met JD nearly forty years ago, when I joined the small faculty at then Saginaw Valley College. It happened that Bob Pratt -- the new basketball coach at SVC -- moved into the same apartment complex the same day Nancy and I did. Nancy and I and the Pratts became friends.
That first fall and winter, Bob would leave early on home-game afternoons to get his new team ready. Nancy and I would pick up his wife, Terry, have a quick supper, and rush to the game. That first late fall and winter, the three of us would be the home crowd. The entire crowd, in fact.
And that's how we came to know JD. He was SVC's point guard. And he was gorgeous: 6'3", slender, tapered and strong, powerful and tough as a driver, master of blind passes. A ball hawk, too -- tough rebounder. Most of all, he had the sweetest leaping, one-hand, set shot I have ever seen. He could hit with either hand from anywhere. And had there been a three-point shot rule in those bleak-old-days, SVC would've swept the conference those two years we watched JD play.
SVC's enrollment was under 1500 in those early days. SVC was a commuter-college. There were four small dorms, two small classroom buildings, and the new Wickes Hall, a three-story edifice that housed administration, faculty offices, and ten classrooms. There was also a free-standing gymnasium. Alas, Coach Pratt had no scholarships. Recruitment was not easy.
JD played for the fun of it -- a throw-back to the good old days. In fact, all Coach Pratt's players -- all seven of them that first year -- played for the same reason: they liked the game.
And they were good at it, too. SVC was the fledgling team of their conference that year. All the teams they played lost to them -- until the final two or three minutes. It's difficult for a team of seven players to last a full game against a team with twice the players. That they led larger squads into the final minutes of that first season was surprising. That they won about half their games is astonishing.
Winning basketball games has to do with wonderful coaching, strong desire, and superb physical conditioning. Disciplined team-work and solid shooting matter. But I'm a Hoosier. For me, solid floor leadership is most important. You got some rangy kid who can bring the ball down unmolested against a tough press, can rip the nets from way out, can set picks and drive, can pass like a phantom -- then you've got confidence. That one leader makes you know a score is likely every time down the floor.
That was JD. And he was beautiful: cool and easy, confident without arrogance, smart and personable. He was that kid you knew could win the game right out from under you if you relaxed one minute too early. He could catch another team off guard, because he didn't seem the least bit intense or mean. He made it look like every game was just evening-after-supper-pick-up. Kinda like all-friends-fun. Then he'd nail you with a hot streak, and you couldn't come back fast enough.
I loved to watch him play. Everybody did. There was an easy grace to his every move. Win or lose didn't really matter. Watching JD lead and play is what made the game worth watching. I don't know how to make exactly clear what I'm trying to say here. But when
all the schedules are set,
all the scholarships are given out,
all the practices are completed,
all the games are played and won or lost --
basketball is still just a game.
all the practices are completed,
all the games are played and won or lost --
basketball is still just a game.
And a game is something that should be played. It's not life or death. And it shouldn't be commercialized as it has been. Or largely spoiled in all the ways we've done our best to spoil it. I know I'm a cock-eyed Idealist. But when I tell you I loved watching JD play basketball, loved watching him delight in the game -- that delight in play is what I mean.
I don't remember exactly how JD's administrative career began at Saginaw Valley. In those early days, nearly every professor and administrator was housed in Wickes Hall. Somehow, JD wiggled his way upward in Admissions until he became Director. At some point he was told he should get a master's degree in educational leadership. So he did.
During that period he took two graduate classes from me, and I got to know him well. He was so bright and so much fun in class I didn't really wanna pass him. He was that graduate student who asked important questions, helped formulate discussions, and related important ideas to his ongoing work as an admissions director. You get a student like that on your team you hate to let him get away.
By the early-nineties, SVC had grown and become Saginaw Valley State University. One reason for that was that as Admissions Director, JD sent recruitment teams out across a 26-county area in east-central Michighan. Every year, his recruitment quota went up. Every year his recruitment teams met or surpassed the assigned quota. Our academic programs burgeoned. Faculty multiplied. Buildings popped out of the ground.
The performance of his recruitment teams was all the more surprising because Central Michigan University, a fine and fully-established university was (as we say) right down the road. It's safe to say that every undergraduate and graduate student we attracted we had to steal from CMU.
Don't mistake this irrefutable fact: universities are serious businesses. They're highly competitive. Their programs must be up-to-date, based upon solid research, and they must produce results in the field. Good teaching is also important in drawing students.
Recruitment is also important. Every facility must be state of the art. Every program must be top-notch. And the whole must be sold. JD's teams always met their quotas. And they still do.
I visit campus about once a week. Old faculty friends greet me like the Ghost of Christmas Present. I tell them my present to them is that I don't bother them as often as I might.
I always slip two quarters into a meter over at Wickes Hall and stop to visit JD. Unless I see him in the midst of a recruitment pitch with some parents, I walk into his office like I own it. He always jumps up from his work-table and whacks me a double-hand-High-Five.
Big grin: "Hey Bobby! Lookin' GOOOOOD, Buddy!"
He always astonishes me. Still looks early twenties -- less a little hair. I always make a big show of looking him over carefully and telling him: "Trim hair, trim body!"
Somehow he manages to look stronger than he did as a young ball-player. I know he cheats. For years I've seen him out road-running during his lunch break.
I always wink and grouse: "What-IS-this? Ever-buddy but you get's old!"
He hugs me real big, then pokes an accusing finger into my chest: "I'll get old when YOU get old!"
I love JD. And I know he's right. In fact, he's perfect:
A few more good lies like that,
And he could be president!
And he could be president!
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