When John Campbell says he's been connected to Vandalia schools for 53 years, he's not exaggerating. At 57, John represents something increasingly rare: a multi-generational commitment to place and education that spans more than half a century.

John's connection began in kindergarten and has never truly ended. His mother, Shirley Campbell, started as a bus driver before becoming a beloved business and typing teacher for over 20 years. Current secretary Tammy still proudly maintains the only typewriter in the building—a skill she learned in Shirley's classroom decades ago.

As a student, John was the classic three-sport athlete, playing baseball and basketball all four years, with football in freshman and senior years. After graduating in 1985, he headed to Greenville College where he played baseball and majored in sociology, initially hoping to become a state police officer. Life had other plans. After college, he moved to St. Louis for social work, then corrections. But when the devastating 1993 flood hit, John and his wife made a defining decision.

"We didn't even hesitate," John remembers. "It was long hours for like a month and a half. And it was like, you know what? Let's move back to Vandalia. Things worked out. Never looked back."

That decision brought John home to a life of service spanning three interconnected roles. Since 1996, he's been farming his father-in-law's land—nearly 30 years of working soil that feeds his community. Modern technology fascinates him most, from auto-guidance systems he installed in 2002 ("I thought, there's absolutely no way. And now the tractors steer themselves") to AI assistance for farming questions.

The land itself carries hidden stories of innovation. John farms ground once owned by Arthur Ehrat, inventor of the breakaway basketball rim—a connection he discovered recently when his father asked which landowner had invented it. "So I punched in on my phone, who invented the breakaway rim? And AI brings it up. Arthur Ehrat has a picture of him." John had known Arthur personally for years. "He said, you know, 'I invented the breakaway rim.' Like, holy cow." It's a reminder that innovation often emerges from unexpected places.

John's most visible service has been to education. Since 2012, he's served on the Vandalia School Board, recently re-elected to his fourth term. "My mom especially said, 'You would be good at that. You have a heart for people. You have kind of a level head,'" he recalls.

That level-headedness served the district well during the recent bond initiatives, especially acquiring the former Kanata building for CTE expansion at an "unbelievable price." He's seen firsthand the impact—students graduating and within three years earning $89,000-$90,000 as welders at places like the oil plant in Patoka.

John's commitment to education extends throughout his family. His wife is in her 32nd year as a special education teacher working with the TLC program. "She's got the severe kids, and she's teaching them life skills. I couldn't do it," John says with obvious admiration. His oldest daughter serves as librarian at the junior high, while his youngest works at Horizons daycare after returning from a Montessori school in Effingham.

This creates unique dynamics as John sees the district through multiple lenses—former student, parent, board member, and community farmer. "It's small enough that it feels like it's a family," he explains, though family dynamics aren't always easy.

The board reflects this community character. "There's differences," John admits about executive sessions, "but at the end of the day, when the meeting's over, hey, good seeing you." The same applies to community feedback: residents voice opinions about board decisions, "but then the next time you see them at Rural King or Walmart," there's no lingering animosity.

John's farming background gives him unique perspective on technological change. Having witnessed evolution from basic equipment to GPS-guided tractors, he brings practical understanding to discussions about AI in education. "Whether we like the idea or not, it's working and it's progressed just like AI," he observes. "Ethically, I have some thoughts about it, but it's here and it's completely here to stay."

When people ask John to describe Vandalia, his explanation is straightforward: "Small rural community. Everybody knows everybody." But what comes next captures the essence: "A lot of the teachers are, quote unquote, homegrown. It's small enough that it feels like it's a family."

Whether reviewing budgets in board meetings, checking soil conditions, or running into former students around town, everything connects for John. It's a life of service built on the foundation his mother laid, sustained by the community that raised him, and directed toward ensuring the next generation has better opportunities.

"I've been involved or connected to the Vandalia school district for 53 years," John reflects. "It's a great district." From kindergarten student to school board member, from athlete to steward of innovative land, John Campbell's story reminds us that there's profound value in staying, in serving, in being part of something larger than yourself for the long haul.