A Small World, a Grand Discovery
BY SUSANNA SPENCER
6 MIN. READ
Our story starts with a simple design project within Anderson University’s Office of Marketing and Communication.
One of three designers on the team, Jeffrey Jackson ’12 was asked to create a plaque for a donated rare print replica of the Declaration of Independence. Generously gifted by alum Everette Humphrey ’59, this artifact is dedicated in honor of the late Celia and Aubrey Lydick (shown right), former Anderson residents who, according to Humphrey, are the reason he graduated from AU (then Anderson College).
“The Lydicks were my salvation,” says Humphrey, because “they helped me achieve my own independence.”
When Jackson saw the Lydicks’ name attached to the project, he wondered if he had any relation to the couple, as the surname was shared by his great-grandparents. “I texted my sister immediately, asking if the first names rang any bells,” Jackson says. “Turns out they were our own great-grandparents — my dad’s grandparents.”
Jackson then told AU’s provost, Dr. Joel Shrock, of his newfound discovery, as Shrock had requested the plaque design on Humphrey’s behalf.
Only having met the Lydicks briefly at a young age, Jackson didn’t know much about them. However, after a phone call with Humphrey, thanks to Shrock, Jackson learned more about his great-grandparents and their rich heritage.
Now 86 years old, Humphrey met the Lydicks back in 1953 when he was just 18, unaware of how the couple would change the trajectory of his life.
Ever since junior high school, Humphrey, who grew up in the Church of God in Flint, Michigan, knew he wanted to attend Anderson College.
“I always said that’s what I was going to do,” Humphrey shares, though he knew his parents couldn’t afford to send him there. And though his parents said he would be on his own if he went, he still believed he could do it.
“Sometimes, when you don’t realize that something is out of your reach, you go ahead and do it anyway,” Humphrey says with a chuckle.
And that’s just what he did. Once accepted and enrolled as a biology education major, Humphrey made his way to the college campus with only $81 to his name.
His introduction to “Mom and Pop Lydick,” as he calls them, came after his summer housing arrangements with a family friend unexpectedly fell through. No longer able to house Humphrey in Anderson before the start of classes, they connected him to the Lydicks.
Humphrey says the Lydicks had hoped their own children would be students at AU, but that “none of them were interested.” Additionally, the couple had previously taken in three other students in attempts to help them complete their schooling, but each had dropped out.
With a desire to help Humphrey next, the Lydicks welcomed him into their family, and all they asked was for $20 a month in rent and a promise that he would “not go home” or quit school. And so Humphrey agreed.
But even with his housing cared for, Humphrey still had to find work to pay for his tuition and his own meals.
As Pop Lydick worked in maintenance at the college, he helped Humphrey get on the department’s payroll for a short time, making just 81 cents an hour. Later on, Mom Lydick helped him find a job in a local kitchen for $1.08 per hour, after repeatedly asking the owner to hire Humphrey on.
But as jobs were hard to find and hard to keep back then, Humphrey hopped from one to another, barely making his freshman year tuition payment (which at that time was $225 per semester).
Knowing Humphrey was struggling to afford regular meals, Mom Lydick would often set aside the best part of the family’s dinner and tell Humphrey there were “leftovers” she didn’t want to go to waste, even though the family had little money of their own. Humphrey didn’t understand, but never questioned it because he was just so thankful to have something to eat.
Then, another obstacle came during the first semester of his sophomore year. Humphrey was called into Dean Olt’s office, whom the current university Student Center is named after. Because he was behind on his payments, Humphrey was told he could no longer attend classes.
Upon hearing about this, Pop Lydick did the unthinkable. “You and I are going to go talk to the dean,” he said, though Humphrey felt it wouldn’t do any good.
The next morning, walking straight into Olt’s office together, Pop Lydick reached into his coat pocket and placed the title of the family’s 1948 Buick on the desk. “It’s the only thing in this world that I own that’s paid for,” Pop Lydick said to Olt. “You keep it. If [Humphrey] has not paid his tuition by the end of the semester, I will sign the car over to the college to cover the cost.”
Humphrey couldn’t believe what he’d just witnessed. Neither could Olt, who looked at Humphrey and said, “Young man, this gentleman has more faith in you than I do.”
“It sounds harsh, but back then, no one had money, and AU had bills to pay,” Humphrey says. “But you can believe I spent the rest of that semester scraping every penny, every nickel, every dime I could to make those payments.”
And he did manage, and eventually graduated after six years of juggling both work and classes.
“I always believed that if God wanted me at Anderson, he would make a way,” Humphrey says. “He always made a way.”
Though barely getting by, Humphrey looks back on those years with admiration, saying, “The struggle I had to go through made me appreciate Anderson College so much more.”
Now, after teaching high school biology for 27 years, Humphrey and his wife Coralie (who he met as a freshman at the college) are now retired and living in Michigan.
Thanks to Humphrey’s donation of the Declaration of Independence, Jackson has made a valuable connection to both Humphrey and to his rich lineage.
“What’s shocking to me,” Jackson says, “was that out of three designers, I was the one randomly assigned a project for my own great-grandparents, yet I couldn’t even recognize them when I started.”
Overall, Humphrey has donated more than 55 other rare artifacts from his personal collection, accumulated over a lifetime and now on display for the students of Anderson University.
It’s no surprise that our Ravens have a history of finding ways to soar, and Humphrey’s story is just one among many. Thanks to his donation, the generosity and kindness of the Lydicks can now be preserved and carried on through Humphrey’s humility — “anything to keep the memory of these fine people alive.”