Just a few years ago, the dean of engineering at Case told me that 3-2 students have always been among their best, over the decades, and that Case would welcome more of them. So as you leave here today, go with confidence that you can do whatever you want to do.

I entered Monmouth College believing that engineering or applied science would be where I wanted to go but not knowing how to get there. A liberal arts college seemed a good starting point, though, because my interest extended beyond science. During my junior year here, Professor Lyle Finley, then chairman of the physics department, advised me to go to Case the next year on the 3-2 program. I responded that this was out of the question for me. I was earning most of my way through school, had a Monmouth scholarship, and I couldn’t afford Case, which was an expensive, private university.

Without my knowledge, Mr. Finley drove to Cleveland during spring break that year and personally requested a full-ride scholarship for me. When he returned, he handed me a letter from Case offering the scholarship and he said, “Now you have to go.” That wonderfully generous act by Mr. Finley launched an amazing cascade of events—introductions to new advisers and mentors, transitions that eventually took me to places and opportunities that I couldn’t have even imagined when I was a student here.

At Case, the dean of engineering pushed me to compete for a fellowship that ultimately gave me the choice of going to either M.I.T. or Caltech for graduate studies. He also introduced me to Professor Frank Marble at Caltech, a renowned figure in fluid mechanics and propulsion engineering, who became not only my Ph.D. adviser, but a lifelong friend and a source of wisdom.

Caltech is a truly unique and amazing institution that has been described correctly as “a national treasure.” There I had the opportunity to know some of the greatest scientists of the 20th century: physicists Murray Gell-Mann and Richard Feynman, chemist Linus Pauling and biologist David Baltimore—all Nobel laureates. But without the cascade of contacts and events that were started by one person here at Monmouth, I doubt that I’d ever have gotten here.

That cascade resulted in a steep climb to a happy, productive career in engineering. I had my 15 minutes of fame and Princeton University invited me to joint the engineering faculty. But a decade into that career, while still in my 30s, I felt a need to get on a new learning curve…either by drastically changing my engineering field or by entering a whole new arena. Against the advice of nearly all my respected colleagues and advisers, I decided to leave engineering, where I was well established and probably too comfortable, and join a start-up company. It was one of the first environmental companies in the United States—so tiny that I became chief operating officer by default, and with virtually no knowledge of business. It certainly proved to be a new learning experience, a bit like the proverbial drink from a fire hose. We stumbled around a lot but managed to make the company a success.

Even today, some of my friends and former engineering colleagues think it was a mistake to give up the honors and trappings earned in one career to enter a new one as a novice, but it wasn’t. The decision resulted from my knowing my own values and priorities well enough to take the leap, and some credit for that goes to my education here at Monmouth. One of the goals of a liberal arts education is to stimulate the pursuit of self-realization or knowing oneself. It worked for me, although I probably didn’t realize it when Dr. Gibson handed me that diploma, and I’ll bet it’s worked for you, too. And if so, it may be the most important asset you’re taking with you today.

The entrepreneurial projects that followed during the past 25 years have been both challenging and fun—each one a learning experience—but the most fun has been trying to start some cascades with worthy and talented young graduate students living in my guest cottage near Stanford University. Several of those students founded companies while still living there and many of them are now starting their own cascades for less fortunate people. Jane [Dean Jakoubek] mentioned Kiva and Care2, both of which could be regarded as organizations dedicated to starting cascades on a broad scale for more than one person at a time. If he were here, I know Professor Finley would approve of Kiva and Care2, because he’s part of their heritage.

So that’s the story of how one generous, dedicated teacher here at Monmouth started a cascade of events that grew into a tree of cascades with many branches and took me places beyond my fondest earlier dreams. But how many of us really have the opportunity to pursue such dreams?