Woman finds time is right to earn degree

More than 30 years after taking classes at a community college in Ohio, a 64-year-old woman graduates from Trinity College - at the top of her class.

NEW PORT RICHEY - Judy Lawson is writing her autobiography, and the working title is Serendipity. It seems appropriate considering how on Saturday, at age 64, she became the oldest graduate at Trinity College.

Her college story begins more than three years ago. Lawson was driving home from Publix one evening in November 1999 when she heard a radio spot promoting a degree completion program at the Christian-based school.

It was an intriguing thought, one that would salve a feeling of failure three decades old, yet seemingly unrealistic. "I'm too old," Lawson told herself.

But she called the college the next day and that evening, attended an open house. Not long after, Lawson unexpectedly received a $7,000 check, proceeds from a long-delayed home sale.

"I saw that as a sign from God that this was the right thing to do," Lawson said. She enrolled in Trinity's Quest program and began working toward a bachelor of science degree in leadership and ministry.

Lawson graduated at the top of her class, with a 3.98 grade point average, and has not stopped there. She is working on a master's through a distance learning school and plans to seek a doctorate.

"You kind of get addicted to academia," she said in an interview last week from her office at Trinity, where she is the assistant director of the Quest program.

Her story would be notable simply because of her age. The average college graduate, after all, is in his early to mid 20s. Yet Lawson's personal triumph extends far beyond the classroom.

She was born in Cleveland in October 1938, the daughter of a steel worker and a secretary. High school was enjoyable, she said, but there was little push toward higher education.

"College was just never anything spoken about in our family," Lawson recalled.

So in 1957, at age 18, she married a boy she first met at a popular drive-in restaurant, the Frontier. He was tall, handsome and charming (and practically foreign being from Vermont) and they set off to start a family of their own. Three children were born.

Over time, her husband's dependence on alcohol took a toll and in 1966, Judy asked for a divorce. He disappeared to Florida and she lost the house, unable to afford the mortgage.

In 1970, Lawson began taking classes at Cuyahoga Community College in Cleveland, hoping to acquire enough business skills for an office job. To support the kids she worked as a waiter.

It was a meager time. They lived in a federally subsidized apartment complex.

"It was like ghetto, very dangerous," she said.

The stress of school, a job and kids soon consumed her, and she left college. "It was an easy decision because I just couldn't do it all. My kids were my first priority."

She said that with obvious pride in an interview last week, nodding to the pictures of her great-grandchildren on the shelf above her desk.

Minutes later, though, she confessed that dropping out left her feeling like a failure. The emotion was unescapable, she said. "I just couldn't get around it."

Poor, depressed and confused, Lawson sought relief in various religions, including Buddhism, and the occult. She was stretching for hope and coming up short.

Thirty years ago this month, Lawson spotted a small ad in the Cleveland Plain Dealer that offered the seemingly impossible: salvation through a phone call.

It was the kind of solicitation that many readers probably skipped over, either indifferent or turned off by the religious theme. But Lawson scraped together what hope she had left and dialed the number.

A bubbly woman named Bea Rake returned the call and told Lawson to embrace Jesus. "I didn't think that would work, but she said, "He is a gentleman, and he won't come into your heart unless you ask.' "

The women became friends, and as Lawson began to study the Bible, she said, she began to feel better about herself. Things were looking better financially, too.

Rake helped her land a clerk job at an engineering firm, where she developed the business acumen that led to the position at Trinity.

"There was no way I was able to do this job unless I had somebody strong in organization skills," Quest director David Colburn. Lawson arranges class schedules, registers and enrolls students and orders textbooks.

She intends to work at Trinity as long as they'll have her, even though she intends to continue with her education. "It's my legacy to my children," she said.

Inspired by her mother, Lawson's daughter is studying interior design and her son-in-law is attending a Christian school in Tampa, hoping to become a pastor. A granddaughter wants to write childrens books.

In a way, Lawson's accomplishment fulfills her father's ambition. As he lay dying in 1992, she asked him if he had any regrets.

"I wish I could have gone to college," he replied.

"I had the same regret," Lawson said. "But I never thought I could go back to college. When I least expected it, it was like God was saying, "There it is, go for it.' "