Among My Souvenirs

    “There’s nothing left for me

Of days that used to be

They’re just a memory

Among my Souvenirs”

    By Edgar Leslie and Horatio Nicholls

First recorded in 1927 and a number one hit for the Paul Whitman Orchestra the following year, “Among My Souvenirs” was covered in the 1940s by Louis Armstrong, Bing Crosby, and Frank Sinatra. The song had special meaning for Saturday Evening Club (SEC) zoom meeting speaker Melvin Bohlmann (above).   It resonated with young Bohlmann returning to America after World War II. Now it can be seen as encapsulating memories of a long life.  A 1959 version, which I was familiar with, became a smash hit for Connie Francis, and a tear jerker for countless teens who’d gone through recent breakups. The final verse mentions that among the souvenirs was a broken heart.

Learning that the title of Bohlmann’s talk was “Mindful Dreaming,” I found books with that title by David Gordon (subtitled “Guide for Emotional Healing Through Transformative Mythic Journeys”) and Clare Johnson (“Harness the Power of Lucid Dreaming for Happiness, Health, and Positive Chance”). The latter promised advice on turning nightmares into healing devices, so I prepared to bring up common student and faculty nightmares (i.e., being unprepared for a test or lesson, showing up in the wrong or empty room). Bohlmann’s main subject, it turned out, was daydreaming, which Sigmund Freud, he said, labeled a form of wish fulfillment. Mel regarded daydreaming as a boredom-relieving exercise that he developed while recuperating at an army hospital in postwar Japan. One of Mel’s enduring childhood memories was watching daredevil pilots do the Lomcevak Maneuver, tumbling toward the ground rotating in a clockwise direction before at the last moment pulling out of free fall. Mel concluded with a moving recitation of “Wings” by World War I pilot and poet David Hay. It begins:

    Oh, to catch the winds of flight

 And soar where eagles go,

 To leave the woes of troubled souls

 Behind me far below.

 I’d listen to the song of birds

 And sail in endless flight,

 Then chase the sun through cloudy paths

 And play with stars at night.

I can imagine Mel daydreaming of pulling off the Lomcevak Maneuver. The final lines of Hay’s “Wings” go: “And when my wings could fly no more, I’d take the hand of God.”

Reacting to the presentation, Hugh McGuigan (on right), longtime coordinator of Valparaiso University’s overseas program, commented that he sometimes daydreams about winning the lottery and using the money to shore up support for international students and contribute to other worthy causes crippled by the pandemic. My fantasy daydream is winning the MacArthur Genius Award (for Steel Shavings) and owning a residence near IUN large enough for me and needy students that I’d eventually bequeath to be the Chancellor’s residence (none presently exists). Jim Albers brought up learning about the meaning of dreams from a VU Martin Luther King Day speaker. I interjected that I’ve been attending Martin Luther King Day at Valpo since IUN simply treats it as a holiday and once heard a moving talk to an overflow audience by Richard Morrisroe, who in 1965 was jailed for protesting segregation and then grievously wounded by a Lowndes County, Alabama, deputy sheriff upon his release. Imagine the nightmares that episode must have produced. Morrisroe almost died and walks with a limp to this day.

Richard Morrisroe then and now