HON. FRANK C. WADE, LL.B.

In the summer of 1903, at the age of twenty-five and with very little high school training, I determined to go to college. I had no money and my people were too poor to give me anything but encouragement. I had taught one country school and spent one summer in the West selling maps, but the most I could scrape together, in addition to experience, was a slight equipment of clothing and $30 in money. With these stored in my old trunk, I landed in Bloomington, Indiana, a few days early to report for football practice and to look for work. I was given a try-out at football before any arrangement was made for permanent quarters.

I shall never forget that first afternoon football practice. Nature had been kind to me in giving me a strong body and good judgment, and I felt I could tackle any fellow that ever carried the pig-skin. I was well seasoned, having spent the summer working on the section, and it was lucky that I was. We kicked and fell on the ball for a while and then the coach lined us up for a little line-bucking. This was in the days when the line man on the football team selected his opponent who played opposite him and 163 fought it out with him. The modern, open and better style of football had not yet invaded the game. I had always played the position of tackle and it was there I was tried out that first afternoon. Captain Clevenger took the back field to run down punts and Coach “Jimmie” Horn took us heavyweights for a little line-bucking. I happened to be the only lineman that was an unknown quantity to “Jimmie” and he promptly proceeded to get acquainted, in the peculiar way that coaches sometimes have. He first lined me up against “Cube,” but as he was fat and soft from his summer vacation, he was put to snapping the ball and Smith, Shirk and I tried it. I was not tried out much on the defensive that day but was asked to open up a hole between that big tackle and guard for the man who was coming through with the ball just behind me. We worked at that for about an hour. I do not know how well I succeeded but there never was a time after that first practice that I ever feared losing a place on the team.

The coach and manager knew of my financial condition and, as that was the days of the training table, my first job was purveyor for the training table. It was really the best snap I ever had. All I had to do was to collect the money from the other fellows at the end of the week and turn it over to the manager. Things moved along well until the football season was over and the training table broke up. I then took the job of waiting on a table and washing 164 dishes at one of the high-priced boarding clubs. This lasted until I was given a job by a friend.

One Sunday afternoon when I was feeling unusually blue, because of the fact that my books and incidentals had drawn very heavily on my $30 college fund, one of my friends, a senior by the name of Payne, called in to see me. Just as he was leaving he handed me a $5 bill and said that “Jake” Buskirk had sent it to me and said to tell me that he admired my playing and wanted to make me a little present. I shall never forget the feeling I had when I realized that it meant he was giving me $5. I was overjoyed at getting the much needed five, but studied for a long time whether I should keep it or return it. I felt a little like I was being bribed. However, when I invoiced my assets the feeling somewhat subsided and I decided to keep it, bu............