Robert James Morje

I consider myself very lucky.  Some of my early experiences are unique in my generation.  I started my education in a true one room school house in a rural area of upstate New York.  K through 8th grade in a single room with a coal stove as the only heat.  I was only there for two years, but I always felt protected by the older kids. 

In 1956 my paternal grandfather died, and we moved back to the farm where my Dad was raised, a small town called Nassau, also upstate and not to be confused with the county on Long Island.  His Great Uncle was still operating the farm as his parents had.  A handful of cows, milked by hand.  Two draft horses to pull the various ancient pieces of equipment.  Loose hay, pitched onto the wagon by hand.  I can't say that I loved it, but you never fully recover from sheer hard work!!  And you don't suffer from it either. 

I can contrast these truly bucolic pictures with working my way through law school in Columbus as a clerk in a Hospital Emergency Room.  The contrast between pitching hay on a warm summer day and dealing with the consistently stressed out people who populate an urban ER could not be greater.

For a number of years while practicing law I also had the privilege of being a supernumerary in the local opera company productions.  My high point was portraying a high church official, in the spotlight, with one of the stars, the evil Baron Scarpia, kneeling at my feet.  These non-singing, silent roles RARELY involve more than filling up the stage.  A brief moment in the spotlight for a fellow who can't sing a note was an outstanding memorable moment.

It has been a lot of fun, and always interesting.  I've been lucky.