Post Mortem / Midland Bio

I suppose I could submit a resume for this, but that would not be nearly as fun. Therefore, I will ramble, drifting somewhere in between reality and my own self-perceived fiction of my life, from Midland to present. When I left Midland, I had two goals in my mind. I wanted to play soccer and to find some way to get closer to Sam Jones’ sister, Hilary. Not having grades that would get me into Cal, which was where Hilary resided, Munger suggested that I attend the University of Denver, a college for dumb rich kids who wanted to major in substance abuse. Off to Denver I went on a mission to get out as soon as possible. I did four things at D.U., studied hard, played soccer well, wrote letters to Hilary, and smoked pot for my recreation. With the combination of my good grades and soccer success, I was able to transfer into Cal the summer quarter of 69 on an athletic scholarship, mission accomplished.

Now that I was where I wanted to be, I continued to do what seemed to be working, study hard, play soccer, and shack up with Hilary. I actually did see some of our diminutive graduating class while at Cal. I watched Evans and Degolia play Risk, I think this was the game they were addicted to. Ruric returned from France, deposited himself on my doorstep somewhat in disarray, and we proceeded to play ping -pong on an epic level for the next six months. I was majoring in English and scoring goals for the Bears.

Life continued to proceed as such until Hilary and I decided to get married; we were in our junior year. I proceeded to become terrified over the idea of marriage and decided to bail. Hilary was pissed off and decided to go to school in Japan. I moved in with John Pike, a former Dunn School student and, at that time, one of the most successful party animals at Cal. This living arrangement was disastrous and concluded when John tried to shoot my dog with his forty- five for consistently dumping the big one on his pillow. My dog was a very perceptive animal.

Hilary and I were miserable so she decided to return from Japan. I wanted to go to Japan taking a leave from Berkeley in order to try to become the next Gary Snyder. This would have been a good idea. But, Hilary’s heavy-handed, right wing Republican, Ronald Reagen idolizing

Father, ordered us to get married. Being a wimp when it came to overbearing father figures, I submitted to this mandate, which, ultimately, doomed the marriage.

Hilary and I were married; we finished up at Cal; I worked at Victoria Station in S.F. for a time; we then decided to leave the country to experience somewhere else. We went to Florence, Italy for a year. Italy was an ambivalent experience. On the one hand, it was a great adventure. We traveled extensively, had some wild cultural experiences, and learned a foreign language. On the other hand, I was completely at a loss as to what to do with my life. When we returned from Italy, we returned to my hometown, Santa Barbara, and I returned to a massive identity crisis.

Hilary and I both applied to graduate school at U.C. Santa Barbara.

I went into the English Dept. and she went into the History Dept. I proceeded to act out all over the place in protest to my non decision decision to get married and in my unconscious attempt to grow up and figure out my life. Hilary and I both went crazy at this point, in our respective ways. She left S.B. to return to Santa Rosa, and I continued to plow neurotically through my graduate program, eventually finishing with an M.A. degree. We divorced.

During this personal nightmare, I entered therapy. I found the process interesting and remembered thinking that I could do a better job than the therapist I was seeing was doing. I started looking into what it would take to become a psychologist and found that many of my extended family members were therapists of some sort, a family trend. I was soon off to Santa Clara University to pursue a degree in counseling psych. I felt that I was on the right track.

The next three years, 77 to 80, were years of significant personal evolution. I lived in Los Gatos, up in the Santa Cruz Mountains, by myself, while attending graduate school, again. I was almost living the life of a monk. I finished the M.A in Counseling Psych, did an internship at a family counseling agency, became employed by this same agency, and was licensed to practice privately by 1980.

The monk life only went so far, however. While moving through the shrink credentialing, I gradually became very involved with another woman, Joanne, who had divorced an old Thacher friend of mine, Kit Collins. From the moment Joanne and I started dating, it was clear to me that she would be my life partner. I had never known, still do not know, another person with a greater capacity for heartfelt love, nurturance, and loyalty. Without her involvement in the rest of my life, the rest of this bio would not read nearly so positively, I am certain about this. Degolia found a saint for a partner, so did I. In 1980, we both decided to move to Santa Barbara and to live together. We did so, Joanne set up a retail business, and I starting up my private practice.

In an effort to be less long winded, let me pick up the pace here. Much of what transpired from 1980 to 2002 was mainstream professional and family evolution. Joanne and I married in 1982. Both of our businesses were successful. Over the next twenty- three years, I became a prominent therapist in the community specializing in marital therapy and other family related issues. I taught graduate school and trained other therapists in interpersonal systems psychology. Recreationally, I became heavily involved in coaching soccer at the college level, highlighted by back-to-back U23 championship tours through Mexico. Joanne sold her very successful business, Pazzazz, soon after we started having children, too much business at home. We had a son, Kyle, then 18 months later a daughter, Ashley. Much of these early child rearing days are a total blur. I can remember having the sensation that my head had just come up out of the water just prior to Ashley’s birth, then, with kid number two out and about, back I went into the liquid depths. Maintaining a family and working simply dominated my life. The results are great, however. We have two beautiful young adults, 18 and 16. Both have been attending Cate School as day students. Kyle is graduating and will be attending Tulane University in New Orleans next year majoring in bio-medical engineering, whatever that is. Ashley is a brilliant straight A student, who, unfortunately, has inherited some of her Dad’s personality traits, poor thing. She is a soccer player, a track star, and probably will end up as a psychologist. Her primary patient, thus far, has been her Father. Our family has traveled extensively favoring places where we can scuba dive in beautiful tropical waters.

Lastly, I want to mention one other significant and most recent life turn. As you all may remember, we had our class party at the old Hollister Ranch. After that occasion, I had no contact with the ranch until I returned to S.B. in ’80. Rick Sawyer invited me up to the now new Hollister Ranch. He was a part owner of a parcel. That day proved to be monumental for me. I realized how terribly important this land was for me. Most of my childhood free time was spent on this beautiful wilderness. Once I had stumbled on this profound realization, I entered into an epic journey pursuing land ownership. This endeavor became an imperative once I had children. I will not venture into the details of this process. It is sufficient to say that I finally acquired 100 acres on the most remote part of the ranch. This happened two years ago. It has changed my life. I shut down my practice over this last year and have been writing a book on my relationship to the ranch. It is almost complete. The process has motivated me to consider writing more extensively. I can hear Vic Bryant praising me now, “Hollister, you fool, you worse than senseless beast (or) worthless senseless beast,” something like this. Either way, I would feel blessed. See you all soon…

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