robert sandberg dot net

I grew up in Chicago in the 50s and 60s. My father, also Robert, was an ordained minister of  the Evangelical Free Church. He received his degree from Trinity Seminary, now located in Deerfield, Illinois. My mother, Ruth, née Campbell, a talented, award-winning musician, played the euphonium (baritone) in Salvation Army concert bands as well as in small ensembles with Army bell ringers on cold Chicago street corners at Christmas time. Dad played piano, guitar, and accordian, and they both had beautiful singing voices. Her alto and his rich bass made for delightful duets, sometimes performed right before dad would preach a sermon. Dad sometimes sang solo before preaching; one of his favorite hymns I especially remember him singing—”The Holy City” — Last night I lay asleeping, there came a dream so fair, I stood in old Jerusalem, beside the temple there. One of Mom’s favorites was “Make Me a Blessing” — Out of the highways and byways of life, many are weary and sad — I remember her playing it on her baritone during more than one service at the church dad pastored in Evanston, Illinois in the late 50′s.

They met at Chicago’s Midwest Bible Church around 1947 where she was the church secretary. Billy Graham once came through the church office to see the pastor, Doug Fisher—she liked to tell that story, a very handsome fellow that Billy. They were married at Midwest in 1948 by Pastor Fisher. I have one sibling, David, eight and a half years my junior, a standup comedian currently  looking for an agent (just kidding, but he really does have a talent for making people laugh).

I have been living and teaching in Southern California since 1983, the year I moved from Chicago to Los Angeles. I spent the first 33 years of my life living on Chicago’s Northside and nearby Norridge, Des Plaines, and Evanston. I have the fondest memories of Chicago, especially Evanston and Rogers Park where I lived while attending Northwestern. I went to public schools in Chicago and suburban Norridge.

I began college in 1968 at Northwestern University in Evanston, Illinois, as a chemistry/pre-med major. But at the end of my sophomore year, I changed my major to anthropology. It was the early ’70s: Woodstock was well on its way to becoming a legend; Jimi Hendrix, Janis Joplin, and James Morrison made their individual, tragic, way-too-sad, exits. In May 1970 the Kent State massacre sobered the nation. Just a day or two later I made my way to Washington D.C. to protest the war. But that’s another story.

I earned all my degrees at Northwestern: B.A. in Anthropology, M.A.T. in Education, M.A. in 18th and 20th Century Literature in English, and, finally, in 1989, a Ph.D. in English. I wrote my dissertation on a volume of combined verse and prose that Herman Melville was working on during the last 10 or so years of his life. While working with the manuscripts at Harvard’s Houghton Library in the summer of 1981, I came across eight penciled manuscript pages of a preface Melville had written for the volume of combined poetry and prose that I was working on. This preface, “House of the Tragic Poet,” had never before been transcribed, let alone published. It was published for the first time as part of my dissertation.

Marcia and I met on New Year’s Eve, 1982, and, in June 1983, having finished all course-work for my Ph.D., I moved from Chicago to Southern California. We got married that December. Twenty-seven years later, she is cuter than ever, can always make me laugh, and still my best friend. I have two wonderful children; Tim was born in 1985 and Linny in 1988.

Since 1984 I have been teaching English in Southern California high schools. In 1995, while continuing to teach literature and composition in the Los Angeles Unified School District, I became my school’s technology coordinator as well as educational technology consultant for several nearby schools. In 1998 I began teaching education technology courses part-time in the Charter College of Education at California State University, Los Angeles.

Besides life with Marcia and watching Tim and Lin move into young adulthood (the nest is almost empty), my life is filled with my students; teaching; making sure my Droid X is loaded with podcasts for my commute; working on the final volume of the Northwestern-Newberry edition of Melville’s writings; learning enough PHP, CSS, and XHTML to keep this site going; getting to a gym or hiking trail several times a week; meditating; yoga; reading philosophy, science, and literature; and getting away on weekends to enjoy silence, wildlife, sunrises, sunsets, and starry dark skies.

In the event that our digital paths never cross again, and before you click away, let me wish you huge success and perfect health in your analog life already in progress.

Bob Sandberg

December 2011