Princeton University Athletics
On His Own Mission
April 10, 2001 | General
Maybe, had he known the slim young neighbor from down the block who walked past his house in Addis Ababa every day was on the verge of becoming an Olympic gold medallist, was ready to emerge the greatest long-distance runner in history, maybe young teen Tensai Asfaw would have taken more notice of Haile Gebrselassie.
Or, maybe, if he'd known that when he soon would be attending the Lawrenceville School, halfway around the world, that he'd become a state prep cross country champion, that he'd go from there to Princeton University and become captain of the track team, or that he'd come home summers and get to know the runner called The Emperor and be invited to jog with him, maybe then he'd have taken deeper notice.
Or maybe not. Then, as now, there weren't enough hours in the day to study. Then, as now, his idol wasn't an athlete. It was his father.
After all, Haile Gebrselassie may have won gold at the 2000 Olympics in the 10,000 meters, but his endeavors haven't been on the cover of Time magazine this past year. The other man who lives on that street in Ethiopia has. Dr. Berhane Asfaw recently has been credited by many in the scientific world with finding the "Missing Link."
"Back home," said Asfaw, a senior, "we call him the Doctor of the Dead."
Dead men tell many tales. Especially when scientific evidence says they are 3.5 millions year old. The project at Hadar, six hours off any roads in a remote part of Ethiopia, not far from where the historic remains of the famed Lucy were unearthed, has been going on for five years. Dr. Asfaw and co-director Dr. Tim White, of Cal-Berkeley where Asfaw earned his Ph.D. and his son lived and began schooling from ages 5 to 10, have emerged as the scientific giants in the paleoanthologist world for their fossil discoveries.
"I think we all were impressed when Time put it on the cover," says the son.
With all his scientific distinction, Dr. Asfaw often earns less in a year than his wife, who is No. 2 in command at Ethiopian Airlines, the largest in Africa.
"Actually," Tensai says, "a lot of what my mother makes is in perks. Free flights and things. It's allowed me to fly home at Christmas and every summer, allowed them to come see me run last spring in the IC4As here, let me and my father vacation 10 days in Beijing last summer."
After that, he came back to Princeton, worked five weeks at Merrill Lynch in the Legal Advisory Department, "just to find out what big business is like, why everyone in he country wants to be part of it."
He doesn't. An English literature major, Asfaw's an idealist, a perfect fit for his University's avowed mission--Princeton in the nation's service. Except his nation is Ethiopia, and though he knows he could be far more affluent by remaining here, like his father he plans to turn down that blandishment.
"My goal," he says, "is to do graduate work in foreign service or public policy, then work for an international group, the U.N. hopefully or some global-aid program. Eventually, at an early age, I hope, get back home and help my extended family.
"I'd like to say help the whole country, become a leader there, but with 60 million people speaking 95 dialects, with all the history of conflicts, it's an impossible thing. I have to remember my roots, go back and help, but I know the challenge there."
He also knows he has no choice.
"For of those to whom much is given," he says, repeating the gospel of Luke later reprised by John Kennedy and others, "much is required."
He understands that he's been lucky. To have as brilliant a pair of parents as his country has boasted. To have started schooling in Berkeley, to have been the first Ethiopian accepted to the quarter-century-old missionary school in Addis Ababa where the 150 students come from 16 countries and five continents, to have been unable to afford to continue expensive private schooling only to have a friend his father met while teaching briefly at Rutgers offer to underwrite young Tensai's education at Lawrenceville.
The pieces kept fitting. Even his new running career, something he couldn't imagine despite the Haile Gebrselassie mystique that engulfed his country.
"I was cut from soccer tryouts that first sophomore semester at Lawrenceville," he remembered, "and was getting into intramural football, when this classmate, David Cahill, sat me down and urged me to run track and cross country. Said someday it might help me get into some college."
Before he graduated, he was Mercer County's best runner, indoors and outdoors mile champion, cross country king, state prep champion, leader of the county's best teams, first of three consecutive Lawrenceville runners to be the county's top miler. The friendships he made were so strong and so many that even though Cal was eager for him to matriculate there, Mercer County now was home and Princeton became his college choice.
"What a great day for us when Tensai came here," says Tiger cross county coach Mike Brady. "He's everything you'd ask for in a model citizen. Character, integrity, leadership. No wonder his teammates elected him co-captain."
"Each of the seven years I've been running," says Asfaw, "I've improved. Lowered my times. This is my final year to run. It's time to move on to other things. But I want to see how well I can perform, what I can achieve."
Asfaw, who has run 1:50 half-miles, 3:48 in the 5,000, feels ready for a big final year. Like every Tiger senior, he's already been a part of nine Heptagonal championships, something never done before.
"I took off from running for weeks this summer," he says, "but came back here a few months early, started training 80 or 90 miles a week, and I'm ready. You have success, you want to work harder."
by Harvey Yavener
Reprinted with permission from The Times of Trenton