Every Character Has a Story

Finding the Extra in the Ordinary

When I went to Texas A&M, it had just a little more than half of the current enrollment, but we still found ourselves crammed into buses and dining halls and waiting in long lines everywhere we went. It is a mystery to me how they managed a student body twice that size in such a short time, but Bryan and College Station appear to be thriving with new amenities for the influx of people. 

On one hectic day, I was fortunate enough to have secured a table all to myself in the Commons dining area. I probably didn't realize there wasn't another empty table, but one older man and his graduate assistant did. Also, in full disclosure, I have never been the most spirited Aggie, but I do love the hospitality and friendliness that Aggies show to others. I've even perfected my own version of Howdy that I say when passing strangers in random places. 

As I sat at my table unwrapping my Chick-fil-A sandwich, Dr. Arnold Krammer, an elderly man with a head full of white hair and an even thicker mustache, walked up to me and asked if he and his graduate assistant could join me. For all I knew, he was a grandfather visiting his favorite granddaughter, but without hesitation, I agreed to let them sit at my table. 

As we talked, he learned I was on my way to an American History class, and I discovered he was also a history professor. I still remember his words because I thought it was a strange exchange for simply giving up two seats I was not using anyway. He said, "In exchange for your generosity, when you are ready, send me an email, and I will ensure you get a seat in my class." 

Later, I mentioned this exchange to another faculty member that I knew. Then, I learned that Dr. Krammer was no run-of-the-mill professor. 

I learned that during World War II, Nazi prisoners of war captured by the Allies had to be held at roughly the same latitude as the place they were captured. As a result, many of these prisoners were shipped to the United States and held in prison camps all over the American South, including Hearne and Huntsville, Texas. Despite their enemy affiliation, these POWs were treated to a hefty dose of Southern hospitality. They would regularly escape from the prison camps, wander into town, and purchase ice cream, which they would eat while they waited to be rounded up. 

But there's always one. 

A single escapee evaded U.S. government officials for more than 40 years. Dennis Whiles contacted Dr. Arnold Krammer in 1985 to confess that he was Georg Gärtner, and he was Hitler's Last Soldier in America. 

After I learned all this about the professor I had lunch with, I emailed him to ask if I could come by his office to talk. I wanted to learn more about his class. We didn't talk about his class or Georg Gärtner. Instead, he told me a story about a paper he wrote in graduate school that required him to interview former President Harry S. Truman. 

Dr. Krammer, before he had the Dr. title, visited the former President at his home in Missouri. He had no idea that Truman had written an autobiography, and he came to the interview completely unprepared. His moment with the former President was brief because Truman tossed a copy of his autobiography to young Arnold, told him to read it, and kicked him out. 

Today, I thought about Dr. Krammer, who retired from Texas A&M University nearly ten years after we had lunch, and he passed away in 2018. As I spent some time reflecting on the class I took from him and trying to decipher the more profound lesson I should carry from that experience, I realized the most significant lesson he taught me happened in our second meeting. That lesson unfolded for me as I wrote the story for this post, and it had not occurred to me until just now that he was teaching me about preparation. 

When he met with President Truman, he had no idea who the person across the desk was - just as I sat across from him with only the vaguest idea of who he was. Although I'm just now realizing the lesson he laid out, I remember feeling embarrassed at how little I knew about this incredible professor. It is not a mistake I have repeated when it has counted in my career. For every interview, I learned as much about the job and city as possible before applying. In every negotiation and recruitment meeting, I've done my best to research the potential partner or prospect before sitting down with them. In one case, the FBI came to talk to me about a case they were investigating, and one of the agents interviewing me was caught off guard when I mentioned his law degree. 

There is one area where I wish I had applied this lesson, and it's the part I missed. Dr. Kramer could have been anyone, and he sat down with me in the Commons dining area. Since that time, I have sat across the table from a former President, a few professional athletes, and millionaires with their names on buildings, and each time, I knew what I needed to know about them before the conversation started. I have also attended a rotary club meeting where I met the inventor of the toll tag. I have met decorated war heroes and worked alongside people for years before I learned they were college athletes. Those are a few of the stories I was lucky enough to learn, but I wonder how many fascinating profiles I missed. How many times have I tried to be the smartest man in the room when I had no idea I was in the presence of genius? In revisiting my encounter with Dr. Krammer, I realize I need to more actively search for the extraordinary lives behind the people I encounter daily.