Real Life Matters

Södra Vätterbygens Folkhögskola (SVF) is a small Swedish folk college, situated in the hills overlooking Jönköping, Sweden at the south end of Lake Vättern. It’s a breathtaking spot where I spent the majority of my junior year in college.^[1]The “college-line” students were together for the entire year, as our Swedish classmates accompanied us to Chicago in the spring, where we all finished our studies for the academic year … Continue reading

My time at SVF was turbocharged by Swedish coffee. We joked among ourselves that SVF was short for “ska vi fika” (shall we have coffee)? Academically, study at SVF was a breeze, leaving us with loads of free time to build friendships, goof around, and, in my case, practice my trumpet and guitar. Even as a young man I felt the introvert’s instinctual call to solitude.^[2]Today, my life is slow and quiet, and that is just fine with me. If it weren’t for Jennifer and some close friends, I wouldn’t leave my house except to go cycling, to the gym or to … Continue reading

I remember so well the thrill of arriving in a country with a language that I did not yet understand spoken by people I did not yet know. For the first time in my life, I was also completely out of the orbit of my mom, which was absolutely thrilling.

Sweden was a place where I could figure out who I was without being tethered to her. As they say, “the best defense is to stay out of range.” FaceTime, email and even faxes were not yet invented. If you wanted to communicate, sitting down and writing a letter was your best option.^[3]Sadly, letter writing has now mostly gone by the wayside.

During the fall of 1986, the “college line” kids visited Greece as part of our studies. Studieresa is the name of this field trip program, which included, in our case, practical experience in how ride a minibike on the island of Aegina and drink Ouzo.^[4]When I studied law a few years later in Lund, Sweden, for example, we took a study trip to the European Court of Human Rights in Strasbourg, France and to the International Committee of the Red Cross … Continue reading

In the winter of 1987, the Americans in the college line visited the Soviet Union, which included stays in Moscow and Leningrad.^[5]Leningrad’s name was changed to St. Petersburg in 1991. The region of St. Petersburg is still referred to, however, as the Leningrad Oblast.

We met some Russians at the Hermitage museum in Leningrad. Later, we visited their 1950’s high-rise apartment to drink vodka and trade western stuff for Russian stuff. We drove to the apartment in a beat-up Russian Lada. I sat on a milk carton in the front passenger area. There was no passenger seat.

The next day, some of us were picked up by the local police while seeking to trade with another group of locals on the street. We were eventually were brought involuntarily to an interrogation room in the basement of our hotel. I’ve never been so scared in my entire life. I was devastated because I believed that an arrest in the Soviet Union would be fatal to my political aspirations. Of course, I never pursued politics, which, believe me, was a good thing for everybody!

Our Russian friend, Alex, tried to convince the police that he was an American. He kept pointing at himself, shouting “Amerikanski, Amerikanski!” Sadly, this didn’t work, and Alex remained in detention after we were released.

I’ve often wondered what happened to Alex. He just wanted to get to know Americans and practice his English. The Soviet Union eventually collapsed, and, for a few years, there was hope for lasting peace across Europe. I hope Alex made it through and continues to live his best life in Russia.

To my fellow SVF students from the fall/winter 1986-1987 college line, many of whom remain dear friends to this day, please know that I often think about our year together, which was one of the best years of my life. I owe each of you a debt of gratitude for your grace, love and affection.

Also, I would like to give a special shout-out to my lovely extended family in the Alvesta/Grimslöv area of Småland, who were gracious hosts to a quirky, high-strung boy from Michigan, who told them that someday he would be President of the United States of America!^[6]I don’t remember this, but it sounds like me. I have no reason to doubt my mom’s dear cousin, Dagmar Jansson, who told me about this years later.

Finally, I offer my heartfelt thanks to the director and head teacher of the SVF college line, Hans Nilsson.^[7]Sadly, Hans passed away on January 1, 2025. He led the college line program for 35 years. He was a remarkable person – both knowledgeable and highly sociable. I can hear his voice today in the classroom teaching us how to speak properly in Swedish: “Redan i trappan hörde Gunilla telefonen ringa.“^[8]Already in the stairway, Gunilla could hear the telephone ringing.

In my mind’s eye, I will always be able to picture looking out over the City of Jönköping from hills of SVF – truly a school with a view.^[9]En skola med utsikt.