‘It just comes down to love’
A group of people is stumbling a few feet away, sirens are whirring down Harden Street and Chase Mizzell is fiddling with his empty Cook-Out cup.
Sitting in the restaurant at about 3 a.m. Saturday, he’s not sure who he’d call his best friend on campus.
There are his colleagues in Student Government, his student senate staff, university ambassadors, his friends from the Honors Residence Hall freshman year and a host of workers at Russell House, like Marcus from Chick-fil-A.
“I don’t think that I have one single best friend,” Mizzell said.
But Mizzell, a third-year international business student from Folly Beach, has an awful lot of acquaintances. He’s passionate about people, but, more than that, he’s passionate about their passions, he said.
As a rule, he tries to meet three new people each day on the way to class, and, when he does, about five questions in — after all of the small talk — he drops the question: What are you passionate about?
Some riddle off their interests; he asks how he can help. Some aren’t sure; he encourages them to give it some thought.
Others find the question jarring.
But Mizzell is used to getting into people’s stories. He owes that to his grandfather.
Mizzell’s dad died when he was 3 months old, so he and his grandfather grew close. In middle school, they went fishing, watched Westerns and ate watermelon.
And sometimes, they’d get in his yellow Chevy and drive around town until they found someone whose story they wanted to hear — from the mayor to the housekeeping staff at the Holiday Inn.
They called it “scootapootin’.”
From those conversations, Mizzell gleaned what they called “pearls of wisdom” — tidbits of life advice that help inform him.
His grandfather, John Mizzell, whom he called “Andaddy,” shared some wisdom, too.
He spoke with the younger Mizzell authentically, telling his stories time and time again and passing on what he’d learned throughout his life.
He didn’t hold back, so Chase values realness. Andaddy told him drinking and drugs aren’t all they’re cracked up to be, so he hasn’t meddled in either. He was taught to value people, so when his grandfather passed away midway through his freshman year, Mizzell sought out the stories around him at USC.
Some of the people he’s met since have humbled him, Mizzell said.
He sleeps about three-and-a-half hours a night, doesn’t drink caffeine save for an occasional glass of sweet tea and still rarely drops his optimistic demeanor.
Explaining the root of his energy, he mentions a janitor in the Russell House. The man works all week at USC and spends weekends working with mentally handicapped men.
“He challenges the crap out of me,” Mizzell said. “Who am I to waste time? Who am I to go play in the river for a day when there are people who have much less and do much more?”
In the summer after his freshman year, Mizzell and a friend spent a few weeks couch surfing through Colombia. The two stayed with people they met on a website and with a man Mizzell sat next to on the plane there, and when they couldn’t find anyone, they set up hammocks and made do.
They met people who were poor, but Mizzell noticed they were far happier than many.
Now, when things get stressful, he remembers the people he met — that they were still singing and dancing and staying happy despite their situation.
And if everything falls apart, he figures he could always set up a hammock on a Colombian beach again.
Mizzell said that, in part, he wants to be the student body president because he wants to share the things he’s learned, but one tidbit he’s picked up has informed him in particular.
“One of my biggest values, and as simple as it is, is loving each person ... no matter who they are — whether they are (on) the board of trustees or a janitor — getting to know them, caring enough to listen to their story, caring enough ... to engage in their story,” Mizzell said. “I think in the simplest of ways, it just comes down to love.”