PREFACE

While writing this book, I recalled so many of the experiences that I have had over the years with a number of my IOTA brothers. Starting with my fellow founders all the way to my most recent participation in 2010 Eastern Regional Conference held at the University of Maryland, College Park.

In a way my life can be viewed as before IOTA Phi Theta and after IOTA. As I researched this book and interviewed the founders, I was struck by the fact that we are all elderly men now; each of us is very much aware of our mortality. Age has a way of intensifying feelings and we all have gained a profound appreciation for the men that followed us and made IOTA Phi Theta into the organization that it is today.

As a founding member and senior citizen, memories of my youth have become more precious, and my earliest recollections of IOTA are like sparkling gems; pleasure comes from each gaze. Today my relationship with the fraternity is that of a kind of sage and my continuing involvement has given me a profound sense of relevancy. As I think over my life as an IOTA, I am reminded how much one’s life is defined by relationships with other people in the most intimate of ways.

I recall the return to school after the summer vacation in the Fall of 1963. I remember the the continuous flow of smiling students strolling across campus. This was the year I fell in love with a beautiful coed who had just transfered to Morgan State College, from Spellman College in Atlanta. I first saw her at small party given by a student. She entered with a young man named Michael Williams who she had met the day before. I didn’t know him personally at the time, nor did I know he would become a founder of Iota Phi Theta.

Shortly after, seeing the young lady at the party. I saw her again on campus. I introduced myself, she smiled and we talked easily and joyfully. Smiles turned to laughter. Mutual attraction led to dating, and the pleasure of discovering each other turned into love. Within weeks we were married. Founders Spruill and Dorsey sat in the church and watched the first marriage of a fellow Iota Founder.

As I reflect on the past, I recall when Daniel Henson and his wonderful wife Del were married. Danny was one of Iota’s first line brothers. He and Del were married months after I had done so. On the day of their wedding , my bride of several months and left the reception, happy that Dan and Del had found what we had together.
We sang a love song recorded by Billie Holiday.

” Every time we say good-bye, I cry a little – every time we say good-bye , I wonder why a little …. why the Gods above us who must be in the know; think so little of us , they allow you to go”.

Little did I know at the time that very shortly my wife and I would be parted by death. Since then, every time I see Dan and Del, I think about that enchanting day. They are an intricate and important part of my life, because the symbolize one of the best periods of my youth.

I recall our fallen brother Anthony Tony Watson, a tall , handsome, intelligent young man I had known since boyhood in East Baltimore. I was very pleased he had chosen to join Iota Phi Theta. His pledging Iota was a further indication that our Fraternity had struck a responsive cord with some of the best and brightest students on campus.

Like me , he had married his college sweetheart and soon had a son and daughter. I’ll never forget how I spent an entire afternoon trying to persuade him not to report for duty in Vietnam. At that time in America young people were vigorously protesting the war on college campus’ and in the streets. Some were avoiding the draft by fleeing to Canada. When I left him that day he was still laughing at many of the points I was so humorously making in my attempt to convince him to disobey his orders. But Tony was a soldier, a newly commissioned 2nd Lieutenant in the Army and he was determined to do his duty.

My wife and I had relocated to New York, City. We were busily making our newly rented apartment comfortable as we relished every moment we shared together. The phone rang. I answered and another boyhood friend, whose home I was in when I tried to change Tony’s mind about reporting to VIetnam, said: “Johnny Tony stepped on a land mine in Vietnam and was killed”.

John D. Slade