By Jack Helbig
Clark felt like he had a calling, but his father wasn’t pleased.
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“I especially loved Bughouse Square, Washington Square, in front of the Newberry Library. I thought this was the most fertile territory. I would walk over there and wait to be propositioned by a man or a woman and start up a conversation.”
Clark particularly remembers meeting a man who made a living turning tricks in the park. “He had a kid and a family and he realized the best way to make money was to sell himself. So every day he would hustle all day and then go home with a hundred dollars. He hated himself.”
“‘Obviously, Mr. Clark,’ my teacher said, ‘you have pointed out a critical issue–that we will talk about later.’ And he glossed over it. And never looked at it again. It was then I thought, ‘Uh-oh.’”
Clark knew he wasn’t in the right place, but he couldn’t seem to get off the track he was on. He completed the three-year program at Moody and then enrolled at Loyola University, in part because they accepted all of his credits. He’d taken a job in the mail room at the Cosmopolitan Bank across the street from Moody and kept working there while he studied at Loyola. By the time he graduated with a degree in psychology, he’d risen to vice president.
The offer shook Clark out of his haze. “I remember sitting in bed, staring at the ceiling and thinking it over.” He decided to take her up on it. He took a leave of absence from his job and left for New York. His wife stayed behind.
