I returned to the U.S. in September of 1982. One year after I had flown from JFK to Frankfurt. If someone would have said to me after my return: “John, you know, in just about six years you will fly from Philadelphia to West Berlin, and then spend the next thirty-seven years of your life in Germany,” I would have shook my head in disbelief.
Before I fast-forward to September 1988 let me review briefly those six year in between. I was twenty-three, not sure what the next step was. I had studied History at Georgetown University in Washington, DC, then lived in West Germany for a year.
I moved back to DC, and moved into the group house just off campus that I had lived in as a senior at Georgetown two years before. Two of classmates were in Georgetown Medical School. Two other classmates were in Georgetown Law School. I quickly got a job waiting tables at the Tombs Restaurant on Georgetown’s campus in order to get cashflow going.
That served it purposes for almost a year when I took a job at ITT in Secaucus, New Jersey, just outside of Manhattan. Back then ITT was still a well-known conglomerate. I was in the telecommunications division, in sales, with the San Francisco bay area as my territory. Inside sales they called it. Selling telex services.
I didn’t like. Cubicle. Reading usage reports. Phone calls. Then, my Jesuit uncle at Georgetown told me about a former student of his, Charlie, who had gone into business for himself selling telecommunications equipment that replaced the old teletype telex machines. One conversation with Charlie was enough. After three months in Secaucus I was back in our nation’s capital.
It was fun work. Outside sales. Companies, law firms, so-called associations (lobbyists). I would visit them, take a look at their equipment and their invoices. Our equipment was far more modern, hooked up to a normal phone line, and reduced their monthly costs dramatically. I enjoyed being out and about, meeting with people, helping them.
After less than a year I left Charlie and his business partner, Tim. I was outselling them both, but they were not willing to take me on as a third partner. Understandable. So I headed to Philadelphia and opened shop there in early 1985.
I was in business for myself. Like my father. Like both of my grandfathers. A very modest business. Me, my desk, a telephone, and a Toshiba laptop. And a stack of 3×5 index cards holding my account notes.
I didn’t make much money, paid the bills and saved some. It wasn’t about the money, however. It was about having my own thing. And it was about the learning curve. I was learning about business, about sales, about numbers, and a bit about that particular sector, office equipment. On my own. It fit my personality.
The city wage tax in Philadelphia back then was 5%, so I moved out to Ardmore, on the Main Line, a suburb, in early 1986. The work continued ok, but no great shakes. After a while the learning curve had flattened out. As had my enthusiasm.
I considered getting an MBA, but was terrible at math. AT&T interviewed me for a corporate position handling a major account. The interview was in the summer, which can be rather hot and humid in Philadelphia. The meeting took place at an outdoor café in Center City Philadelphia. I showed up in shorts. I guess I was not terribly interested in the position.
I was kind of on autopilot the second half of 1987. Not directionless, but not really interested in the work anymore. My interests were far more in what was happening in the U.S. and in the world.
I was also in constant contact with a cousin of mine, Jim, who had gotten his B.A. in international relations at St. Joseph’s University in Philadelphia, and then his M.A. at Georgetown in IR.
Jim and I had many a long conversation about world events and about international relations. I was very intersted, and thought that I might want to go into that field. I also wanted to prove to myself that I could do solid academic work.
My grade point average at Georgetown was mediocre, at best. I had not applied myself in any way, shape or form in high school. I then attended a small, largely unknown, and not terribly challenging Catholic college in Maryland for a year.
I caught fire there. Could not get enough of the academics. My grades soared. I was planning to transfer to St. Joe’s in Philadelphia, where my older sister and older brother had attended, when my Jesuit uncle at Georgetown arranged for me to attend there for one semester. Special student status they called it. If I could demonstrate that I could do the work I could matriculate as a regular student.
I did well, was matriculated. But it was hard work. I had to learn how to be a student. Fortunately, I was not ambitious about grades. Instead, I focused on taking the best courses, with the best professors, and doing the best work I could. I also had a great time, made great lifelong friends, grew as a human being.
Anyway, by early 1988 I was thinking: “John, the learning curve has flattened out. You’ve made some money, good. Business school, no. Corporate world, no. You’re interested in international relations. Apply to the top M.A. programs in the U.S. If you get accepted you’ll begin studies in September 1989. In the meantime, head back to Germany. Work on your German. Then in an IR program in the U.S. focus on Germany and Europe as your specialty.”
I moved on that idea quickly. In the local library I gathered information. I then took a drive to the German Embassy in Washington, had an appointment with a guy in the culture/education section. I’ll never forget that conversation. After explaining my plans, which included doing another Goethe Institut intensive language class, his response was: “Oh no, Herr Magee, no Goethe Institut. You’re German is good. You can matriculate at a German university.”
I was stunned. That option was nowhere on my radar screen: “How high is the tuition?” He smiled: “There is no tuition, just a nominal fee. And, as a student you get free health care including dental.”
I was floored. My mind began spinning. I asked how I should proceed. “Write to a few universities. Ask for their information. Then pick one and apply. If you move quickly you can begin in the winter semester of this year, starting in October.”
I quickly developed my plan: apply to the top three U.S. programs for international relations (Tufts in Boston, Columbia in NYC, Johns Hopkins in Washington), and head off to Germany for another year. If I get accepted to any of the three, head back to the U.S. If I don’t, stay in Germany and study international relations with Germany and Europe as my area of focus.
I zeroed in on West Berlin. Front-line of the Cold War. During my 1982-year in Germany I had visited there for a few days, including a day in East Berlin. I continued to move quickly. Completed my applications to the three East Coast universities. And got my application from the Freie Universität Berlin, filled it out, and mailed it back per express mail.
Then boom. Accepted. I shut down my business, moved from my apartment in Ardmore to my mother’s place across town, where I had grown up. Plenty of room there. My mother, my stepfather Don, and me.
I spent the summer months doing odd jobs for my grandmother in Jenkintown, a cozy little borough just a short car-drive from my mother’s place. Took care of the property. Painted a few rooms inside the house. Sanded and painted the large, wrap-around porch. And enjoyed lunches with my Grammom, including a handful of interviews I recorded on tape.
I was headed back to Germany. And very excited.