Download PDF - University of Rochester Libraries

More documents

Recommendations

Info

The two residence halls that were the first to open were named for Henry F. Burton, professor of Latin, and George N. Crosby, a selfeducated Rochester businessman who had left a substantial legacy to the University. Each cubby of a room came equipped with washbasin, wooden wardrobe, and maid service. The first occupants were members of the Class of 1934 attending Freshman Camp and some uninvited housemates-furtive, nocturnal visitors displaced by the construction, who left teeth marks on the bars of soap in the washbasins. George Darling '34 theorizes that this was the origin of the nickname River Rats, given to those who had abandoned Prince Street for the new campus. "Though the campus was completely new and very plain, there was great exhilaration upon leaving dark and moldy Anderson Hall and the rest of the old and shabby plant behind," Richard Greene says. Not much shade was provided by the newly planted elms, but generous, terraced lawns interspersed the limestone-trimmed brick and slate campus. "Happy is the university that has no history," Professor Greene paraphrases, noting that the years he taught (English) at the University (1930-42), and was resident dorm adviser, were "as utopian as any college scene I've been in." And he's been in a number in the course of a long and distinguished academic career. There was strong feeling for tradition on this new campus, which enjoyed a student body characterized as responsible and cooperative, a fine faculty, a well-running plant, and an absence of theft, vandalism, graffiti, congestion, and campus police. There was even ample parking on the site where the library addition now stands and in a long-gone garage beneath the stadium. Dorm rules were quaint but rarely in need of enforcement: 1. No alcohol. 2. No disturbances after 8 p.m. 3. No women after 6 p.m. (No exceptions for mothers or sisters.) About the only misdemeanors The Campus found to scold about were towels deposited on the locker room floor and failure to remove hats upon entering Todd Union. The traditional undergraduate proclivity for furniture Pioneer "Sons of Rochester," members of the class of 1934 during the first Freshman Week on the new campus. smashing was taken elsewhere. George Darling recalls an incident when sophomores broke up a freshman banquet at a downtown restaurant with the resulting damages to the premises assessed at the sum of $750. (That may not sound like much, Darling writes, until you remember that a year's tuition in 1930 amounted to $250.) "Gracious living" was the hallmark of both campuses in the early 1930's. The fraternity houses were beautifully furnished and initially well kept. Todd Union offered cafeteria service at noon and full-service dining in the evening, as would the soon-to-be-built Munro Hall for the women at Prince Street. The Faculty Club, on the other hand, housed on the main floor of Burton, ran into financial difficulties because so many members were brown-bagging it-an accurate measure, Charles R. Dalton '20 says, of faculty incomes. To foster a feeling of tradition, Glee Club director Ted Fitch gathered students on the steps of Todd Union for a twilight sing of "old" University songs. ("The Genesee" was written in 1894, thirtysix years before the campus was nestled in the arm of that river.) In the words of those who have shared their reminiscences about those days, the River Campus was a "very pleasant" place to be. Much of the euphoria, one suspects, relates to the unusual leadership qualities of the undergraduates in the early 1930's. Dick Greene cites a sampling: Xerox's Joe Wilson, Kodak's Gerry Zornow, Sybron's Don Gaudion, Rhodes Scholar Bob Babcock, Congressman Sam Stratton, and the University's Harm Potter (successively head of admissions and alumni affairs and now University Secretary). All were marked as campus leaders headed toward future achievement. So was Henry Brinker, a fine athlete who later became president of A.O. Smith; Robert Wells, who was to be head of Westinghouse operations in Europe; William F. May, future chairman of American Can Company (now retired and dean of the College of Business at NYU); Robert Brinker, future editor of Sports Illustrated; and William P. Buxton, future vice president for advertising at The New Yorker; and many others. Of this list, which could be further
expanded by including Thomas Forbes, John Frazer, and John B. Goetsch, all of whom went on to distinguished careers in the field of medical science, a surprising number came as scholarship holders from the Chicago area, recruited by Samuel Havens '99 (brother ofJames Havens, who with George Todd was instrumental in urging the River Campus site). Finally, the building of the River Campus brought both advantages and disadvantages to the women of the University. No longer were they confined to "Katy" Strong Hall or the silent rear of recitation rooms. Women could now use the main stairs of Anderson Hall. All the buildings of the Old Campus (the designation officially adopted by the trustees, which fortunately gave way to "Prince Street Campus") were renovated for their special uses. A new dormitory was constructed. So was the beautiful Cutler Union, from funds bequeathed by trustee James G. Cutler, whose interest in women's education was long-standing. (Legend has it Cutler was overruled by the rest of the building committee in his espousal of Collegiate Gothic architecture for the River Campus and achieved his posthumous revenge when Gordon and Kaelber were allowed to give free flight to their Gothic fancies in this $750,000 structure.) Following the removal of the men, the women were free to develop their own traditions, leadership, and esprit de corps. The consensus of those who recall this twenty-five-year period on the women's campus affirms that these qualities saw their greatest flowering then. Also, the percentage of woman members of the joint faculty was higher in this segregated period than before or since on a single campus. On the negative side, almost the entire library was removed to the River Campus, accessible but to a lesser degree (129,003 volumes went; 22,213 stayed). Women who wanted a scientific concentration had to find ways to reach the River Campus as efforts to establish laboratory facilities at Prince Street went unrewarded. Scheduling difficulties became legion and the four-mile trip back and forth between campuses several times a day sorely tried tempers. Eventually, the maintenance of so many duplicate facilities became an unbearable financial burden, and in 1955 the experiment in "coordinate education" came to an end as women students joined the men on the "new campus." All this was in the future in the early fall of fifty years ago when the student newspaper, recalling the days when the Old Campus was the site of Deacon Boody's cow pasture, bade "Farewell to Boody": "There is no use being sentimental about it. . . . But though we . . . try to preserve our nonchalant equanimity, we cannot honestly feel the stolid bovine indifference of Deacon Boody's kine. There are too many of us that have grown to love the old campus. "And we must now grow to love the new one. We must readjust ourselves to the strange environment and lack of shade. We must breathe into the fresh buildings life, traditions -all that will make our river campus a living force, a true 'alma mater.' A task for time, perhaps." Author's note: Special thanks for first-hand remembrances, long-range perspectives, wellturned phrases, and assistance in ferreting out materials to Charles Dalton, George Darling, Kathrine Koller Diez, R uhard Greene, Karl Kabelac, Carl F. W Kaelber, Jr., Keith Marvin, Charles Urlaub, and Philip Will, Jr. Arthur May's unedited manuscnpt of the history of the University was most helpful, too. Betsy Brayer, a frequent contributor to the Review, is preparing a book about George Eastman. One of the first events on the new campus was the freshman- sophomore flag rush, witnessed by a hillfull of interested observers. The rules proscribed "all missles [sic] other than those provided by nature," a handicap that did not prevent the freshmen from winning. Had they also won the frosh- soph push ball contest they would have been allowed to "wear knickers the rest of the year, a privilege otherwise denied them." 15
Page 2: Rochester Review University of Roch
Page 5 and 6: The College of Engineering and Appl
Page 7 and 8: "A freshman is assigned someone-a s
Page 10: Lighting a Sun on Earth Portrait of
Page 14 and 15: day after his inauguration, Preside
Page 18 and 19: 16 Wall Street's 'Riverboat Gambler
Page 20 and 21: Hawley Hale, and McGraw-Hill defeat
Page 22 and 23: Chimpanzee Cheesecake Your friends
Page 24 and 25: Inauguration Walter I. Garms gets a
Page 26 and 27: associated with an overproduction o
Page 28 and 29: National meet This is the vanguard
Page 33 and 34: Rochester Alumni University If you
Page 35: · . . Scott Robbins has received a
Page 38 and 39: 1975 Mittler Battipaglia (GE) is a
Page 40: ____.1. I Travel Corner Last Call f

Download PDF - University of Rochester Libraries

Create successful ePaper yourself

Delete template?

Save as template?