The Light at the End of the Tunnel

Every fund at the Putnam County Community Foundation carries a story. Behind the names are people, families, memories, and the experiences that once made someone decide an opportunity given to them was worth creating for someone else. For Gerel and Lynn Thompson, that story reaches back long before the Thompson Family Scholarship Endowment existed. It begins with an education that required sacrifice, with people who helped along the way, and with a life spent remembering what those opportunities made possible.

I had the privilege of spending an afternoon with the Thompsons alongside their daughter-in-law and my colleague at PCCF, Julie Thompson, at their home to hear that story for ourselves. Lynn opened the door and welcomed us inside with such warmth that the formality of an “interview” disappeared almost immediately. Gerel greeted us just as kindly, and soon the four of us were sitting together in their living room, where a conversation about philanthropy became something much more personal. Their home helped tell the story before they did. Family photographs surrounded us: parents who had come before them, the family Gerel and Lynn built together, and the generations that have followed. Their grandchildren naturally worked their way into our conversation, including a few laughs about Julie’s sons and their appreciation for Grandma’s ice cream sandwiches.

There was an ease among everyone in the room that afternoon. Julie was also very clearly their daughter. I could see the pride in her face as they talked, and I understood it more with every story they shared. Most striking to me, though, was Gerel and Lynn themselves; they sat beside each other throughout our conversation, carrying nearly sixty years of shared memories between them. Gerel would begin recalling something and glance toward Lynn when a date became fuzzy. She would smile, offer the missing detail, and he would continue. Other times, she would begin a memory and look toward him for confirmation. That companionship made their story feel especially fitting, because the life they eventually turned into a legacy was one they had spent decades building together.

Gerel’s understanding of opportunity began much earlier, growing up in a tenant-farming family in Decatur County, Indiana. His parents believed strongly in education and wanted him to attend college, even though their financial circumstances made that difficult. They contributed what they could, and Gerel found ways to cover the rest. Scholarship assistance helped. He worked in a factory during the summers and held jobs on campus during the school year. Loans filled the remaining gaps. Together, those pieces carried him through Ball State University, where he studied accounting and business administration. Ball State also brought Lynn into his life.

After college, Gerel began working for Public Service Indiana, only to be drafted into the United States Army a few months later. He and Lynn married before his assignment took him to Stuttgart, Germany, where the first chapter of their married life unfolded. They eventually returned to Indiana and settled on a small farm in eastern Putnam County. Here, they built their careers, raised Lisa, Gerrit, and Sara, and became part of the community their family still calls home. Gerel went on to spend more than three decades with Public Service Indiana. Lynn’s own career moved through several parts of community life, from banking to driving a school bus for South Putnam and later working at DePauw University. Their children graduated from South Putnam High School, participated in 4-H, and grew up within the county Gerel and Lynn had chosen to make their home.

Years passed. Their children grew up. Retirement gave Gerel and Lynn the chance to travel, including a decade of exploring all 50 states in their motorhome. Still, when they talked with us about the life they had built, Gerel remembered clearly what it was like to want an education while knowing that wanting it alone could not pay for it. That experience shaped the way he now thinks about young people and their futures. As we talked about students today, he spoke enthusiastically about trades, technology, and the many paths available to a generation entering a rapidly changing world. His hope was never to point students toward one definition of success. He wanted them to have enough exposure and support to discover their own.

At one point, he wondered aloud, “What if we bring opportunities for them … and let them decide where they want to go?” Our conversation soon turned to students already doing exactly that. We talked about young people interested in careers that may look very different from one another: one might dream of building a business as a hairstylist, while another may find a future working with cars. Gerel’s response was immediate. “Those are equal statuses,” he told us. “We need those people in our lives.” There was no hierarchy in the way he spoke about their ambitions. What mattered was that a young person had found something meaningful and had the chance to pursue it.

Julie listened for a moment before putting into words what Gerel and Lynn seemed to have been describing all afternoon. She said, “Your passion is opening opportunities for people who may not have realized those opportunities were there.” Lynn’s hopes for younger generations added something equally important, too. She spoke about community: knowing your neighbors, building friendships, and holding onto the parts of life that keep people connected even as the world changes around them. Gerel described technology as coming “fast and furious.” Their generation has watched the world transform dramatically, and they know younger generations will experience changes they cannot yet imagine.

That is where the Thompson Family Scholarship Endowment finds its purpose. It gives graduating students room to imagine what comes next. For one student, that may be college. For another, vocational training, a trade, or a career they have only recently discovered. Gerel and Lynn do not need to choose the destination for them; they just want young people to know that there are paths worth exploring and people willing to help them begin.

Then Gerel said the sentence that stopped me in the middle of taking notes. We had been talking about the uncertainty young people sometimes feel when looking toward their futures; the obstacles in front of them, the decisions they are being asked to make, and the possibilities they may not yet recognize. With the same natural ease he had spoken with all afternoon, Gerel said: “People don’t realize that the light at the end of the tunnel isn’t a train … it’s an opportunity.” And I stopped him. I needed a moment to write that one down exactly. Gerel once stood at the beginning of his own uncertain path, supported by parents who believed in his education and by resources that helped make it possible. He and Lynn know how much can grow from a chance placed within someone’s reach. Their fund carries that understanding forward to students whose lives are still taking shape.

Eventually, our hour together stretched toward its end. The conversation had wandered through childhoods and careers, children and grandchildren, education, and the future. Somewhere along the way though, the questions on my page became secondary to simply listening. Gerel and Lynn walked us out, and before we left, each of them hugged me. They smiled and told me I was welcome to come back anytime. They had learned that going out for a sweet treat is something Julie and I love doing together, so the invitation quickly expanded: we could all go get something sweet sometime. It was such a fitting way for the afternoon to end.

I had come to their home hoping to understand the story behind their endowment fund. But by the time I walked back through the door Lynn had opened for me, I understood the people behind it. You could hear their gratitude in the way they remembered those who helped them. You could see their hope in the way they spoke about students they may never meet. And you could feel their generosity in a home where a guest received a hug and an invitation to come back for dessert.

The Thompson Family Scholarship Endowment now carries that spirit beyond their living room and into the futures of young people across Putnam County. It offers a simple, but powerful message to students standing at the beginning of whatever comes next:

There is something ahead of you.

Your path is worth discovering.

And above all, someone believes you deserve the chance to reach it.

Somewhere down the road, another young person will look toward the end of a tunnel and begin to see the light Gerel described. And thanks to Gerel and Lynn Thompson, it may be an opportunity waiting there.