Chapter 27: Undergraduates and Graduates in the 'Thirties
Like most of the rest of American society, Rochester undergraduates were financially upset by the Great Depression. Some students were obliged to withdraw, some able youths who might otherwise have matriculated felt unable to do so; but, on the other side, many a young man and woman residing in metropolitan Rochester who under conditions of prosperity might have enrolled elsewhere chose the U. of R. as less expensive. Regardless of the economic situation, a college education continued to be a real bargain, since students paid only from one-third to two-fifths of the operating costs.
By 1932 the impact of hard times was being felt severely. President Rhees informed the trustees that a considerable number of students could not meet their bills, applications for employment on the campus had risen sharply, as had requests for student loans and scholarship aid, to which the University appropriately responded though the amount of individual scholarships was substantially curtailed. Since out-of-city undergraduates found cheaper living quarters in fraternity houses or private homes, occupancy of the college dormitories declined and Todd Union patronage likewise decreased. Cost of meals was reduced and reduced again--student pressure on this point was endemic--and room rentals were lowered; beginning in 1933 it was obligatory, however, for out-of-city students, save in exceptional cases, to live on the campus. Meals for a week cost $6.50, luncheon only thirty cents, cut soon to twenty-five.
Spending money being scarce, Seniors put on an annual ball for a dollar and a half per couple! "The Depression has made students more serious," a Campus correspondent commented, "and has sounded the death-knell of the 'Joe College' type." Time devoted to diversions dwindled, while application to academic work sharpened. The writer dolefully reminded his fellows that employment after college would be available "only to the cream of each graduating class." Endorsing that dismal forecast a second student lamented, "It begins to look as though a college degree is merely a transfer from the stag-line to the bread-line."
A budget estimate of 1935 listed tuition at $300, meals in the Union at $250, dormitory room at $130, fees and student tax at $45, and books and supplies at $27, for a total of $752. At that time 197 men and 132 women were beneficiaries of scholarship assistance and nearly two hundred men earned fifteen dollars a month on the average by jobs in the Library or Todd Union, or working for professors, or indexing the resources of the Museum. The Federal Emergency Relief Administration paid (1934) modest amounts to a dozen students who were employed by the University, and in 1936 the National Youth Administration helped more than two hundred students with grants exceeding $2,600 a month.
Residential facilities raised their special perplexities, first of too much space and then of too little. In the first year on the River Campus, three fraternities whose houses were not yet ready engaged blocks of dormitory rooms, but even then of rooms for 189 only 141 places were occupied, counting faculty tenants and thirteen medical school students; fraternity houses accommodated seventy-one (1934). In the second half of the 'thirties, as the worst effects of the depression wore off and new scholarship programs drew more non-Rochester youths to the campus, the demand for dormitory quarters exceeded the supply. Medical and most graduate students and faculty were obliged to find lodging elsewhere, and, as has been noted, sleeping quarters for more than forty men were blocked out in the Stadium. This arrangement was regarded simply as a temporary expedient until an additional residence hall was built. Valentine, envisaging "a residential college," persuaded the trustees to approve a plan for dormitories for a future student body of 1,000. As another sign of national recovery, the Board voted to increase the tuition charge to $400 (but cancelled a ten dollar health fee), sixty dollars more to be paid in 1939 and one hundred the following year. University funds allocated to scholarship aid were correspondingly enlarged. 1
For the general life of the students, Todd Union quickly proved its worth and invited imitation by similar institutions at colleges across the Republic. Any student might become a member for a fee of ten dollars, and the Union was first managed by a twelve-man board, which in 1936 relinquished its responsibilities to the Board of Control. This body, composed of two alumni, three faculty, the University treasurer, and four (later six) elected undergraduates, largely conducted its affairs through committees: executive or budget, athletic, non-athletic, team and club managers.
Todd Union amenities for lounging, carefree reading, and games became so frequented that as early as 1935 calls went up for expansion of the building. It was the scene of dances and more dances, coffee hours, college (and alumni) dinners, and "fireside chats" with interesting Rochesterians as guests. The bookstore and shops rendered good service and were careful not to compete on price with city firms.
Todd Director Carl W. Lauterbach (Class of 1925) arranged a Boar's Head Procession and Dinner in 1934, which grew into one of the best-loved River Campus traditions. This pre-Christmas party was modeled on an affair at Queens' College, Oxford, where a medieval undergraduate is said to have escaped mutilation by a boar by choking the angry creature with a volume of Aristotle's philosophy; friends of the hero cooked and devoured the animal. At Rochester trumpeters heralded the start of the festival, the Baron of Rochester and his guests took seats at the head table, and professors assumed the boring task of carvers. Following an invocation in Latin, waiters recruited from the Glee Club and decked out in medieval attire paraded through the dining hall carrying an imitation boar's head and lustily singing the "Boar's Head Carol:
The Boar's head in hand bear I, Be-decked with bays and rosemary:
And I pray to my masters, be merry, Quotestes in convicio:
(Chorus) Caput apri defero, Reddens laudes Domino
The Boar's head, as I understand, is the rarest dish in all the land,
Which thus bedecked with a gay garland, Let us servire cantico:
Hearty eating ensued: black bean soup, roast pork, baked potatoes, lemon apples, and flaming plum pudding, served to the accompaniment of "Joy to the World." Ale and cigars rounded out the dinner, and "Adestes Fideles" and a benediction rounded out the party.
In 1931 the original Dandelion Dinner was staged, having as its features bestowal of athletic awards and an interfraternity song contest. And 1934 saw the first "Dad's Day," when some 300 fathers joined their sons at an overflow luncheon in the Todd Union followed by a baseball game.
Grudgingly, in 1935 the faculty sanctioned the first Spring Week-End with sports events and dances. Simultaneously, discussion reappeared on the college colors, and by an overwhelming student vote dandelion yellow was retained. Half-hearted attempts were made to curtail extracurricular activities and a calendar of University events for the week ahead was published (1935).
Interest in the Student Association touched its nadir; an Interpres picture of 1938 showed the meeting room of the Association completely empty! Mock nominating conventions chose Newton D. Baker as the Democratic candidate for the Presidency in 1932 (FDR got the vice presidential nod) and Alf M. Landon as the Republican presidential nominee four years later. Rhees denied the Socialist aspirant to the White House, Norman Thomas, a U. of R. platform on the principle that the University was "not a proper forum for partisan political propaganda." That stand provoked torrents of student protest and Thomas, bitter over the exclusion, gratuitously insulted Rhees; when a campus poll was taken, the Socialist outdistanced FDR--though Herbert Hoover exceeded both competing standard-bearers combined. Despite a strong editorial (1936) on behalf of the reelection of FDR, prepared jointly by the Campus and the Tower Times staffs, in a student poll Landon ran far ahead of his major rival, the Socialist and Communist nominees gaining only a few votes.
In the light of the Thomas contretemps of 1932, President Valentine formulated (and adhered to) a policy on outside speakers, which placed a limit on the number and debarred anyone likely to indulge in a "too high flight of emotion." He firmly upheld the right of students to hear on the campus "any point of view consistent with loyalty to country, loyalty to the ideals of scholarship, fair play, and decency;" but no Communist or apparent fellow-traveler would be afforded a platform. 2
Whereas in the fall of 1930 about 640 undergraduates were registered at the River Campus, by the end of the decade enrollment, in spite of restrictions on admission, had advanced slightly beyond 700. In 1935 roughly three-quarters of the students originated in the Rochester area, and at that time about one-fifth of all enrolled in engineering. It became customary in the 'thirties to have an exchange student from Germany and one from France on the campus.
Geographical distribution of the student body widened somewhat, turned more diversified, more cosmopolitan, though insufficiently so to satisfy the administrative authorities, who set up new scholarship programs primarily to bring more out-of-town learners and more youths with leadership qualities to the campus. First in point of time, the Genesee Scholarships (1932) carried a stipend equal to the college tuition charge and was awarded to a maximum of twenty, men and women together, in each class. Beneficiaries were obliged to maintain satisfactory academic standings and to live at the college. With broadly similar objectives (except that Rochester residents were eligible) Rochester Prize Scholarships were created in 1936; twenty were awarded to men (or about a tenth of any class), five to women, and five to applicants at the Eastman School. President Valentine likened the kind of candidates that were sought to Rhodes Scholars possessing high qualities of intellect, character, and maturity of purpose. Although the scholarship stipend was flexible, it as a rule covered tuition and residence expenses, but in the Senior year the grant took the form of a loan. Administration of both scholarship programs was entrusted to Frederick L. Hovde, and by 1942 318 awards had been given, with the women recipients in general showing better scholastic performances than the men. 3
To acquaint more prospective students with Rochester, publicity operations were stepped up. For a year a professional firm was engaged in this work in collaboration with Armin N. Bender, 1933, who managed the University News Bureau. Short weekly radio programs, carrying University news to area listeners, generally contained an interview with a professor and concluded with music from the Chime on Rhees Library tower. For publicity purposes, Valentine consulted with David O. Selznick, Hollywood impresario, regarding a movie about the U. of R., but nothing came of it. 4
Undergraduate clubs, old and new, notably departmental ones, prospered. The national society of Delta Phi Alpha accorded (1931) a charter to the German Club, while its French counterpart, Phi Sigma Iota, published a periodical Pro Romantico for a couple of years. The Dodge Biology Club, the Rhees Club of men planning vocations as religious workers, Peace, Camera, Glider, and Optics Clubs, all were organized, and a newly-founded International Relations Club broadened the scope of its interests and turned into a Public Affairs Club. Very active was the Engineers Club, which sponsored a multigraphed publication, The Indicator, and from whose ranks the Vectorians, an honor society, was formed (1933); in 1947 the national honorary engineering society, Tau Beta Pi, which accented high scholarship and concern "to foster a spirit of liberal culture in engineering colleges," voted a charter to the U. of R. group. Designated the New York Kappa, initiation was restricted to males, but unusual women engineering students might be handed a Tau Beta Pi badge.
The Glee Club won (1932) the New York State Regional crown, and throughout the depression confined its concerts very largely to the Rochester area. The Troubadours still constituted the inner core of the Club, which had as an adjunct a dance orchestra, known as "The Ragpickers" or "The Revellers." Auditions to choose Glee Club songsters came into vogue. A University Band of forty members--half from the Eastman School--played at major intercollegiate games, and in 1937 the band was furnished natty uniforms: blue jackets, striped yellow trousers, trim white belts.
The University Players presented in 1932 a satirical music farce, "The Student Quince," written by Edward Ehre, 1932. The Stagers set as a prerequisite to membership work in two plays in one year; and the appointment in 1934 of a coach in dramatics brought improvement in undergraduate theatricals. To promote more cordial interfraternity relations and to foster college spirit, "The Yellow Key," an organization of Juniors, was founded, and a branch of the Newman Club Federation brought together (1938) students of the Roman Catholic faith.
Phi Beta Kappa held to established routines, with a public lecture in combination with the annual initiation as a standard feature of the program. The initiation ritual turned more elaborate, the ceremony now taking place in the Welles-Brown room and being followed by dinner at the Faculty Club. At the suggestion of Professor Fauver, it appears, the Students' Association of each college appropriated money from 1933 onward to purchase keys for the men and women elected to Phi Beta Kappa, and printed programs for the initiation exercises were introduced.
Early in the 'thirties, Sigma Xi claimed Washington's Birthday its very own day by arranging a Junior Scientists lecture, which brought hundreds of high school pupils to the campus, and a more advanced lecture by an eminent authority, calculated to inform laymen on the techniques and results of research. At other times, Sigma Xi met to watch experiments and demonstrations by members on their current investigations. 5
Except for a new masthead, proclaiming the transit to the River Campus from Prince Street, and changes in format in response to financial circumstances or technological advances, the Campus remained as it had been for years--the best mirror of student thought and deed in the collegiate and extracurricular spheres. As the decade moved along, more space was allocated to commentary on international affairs, and undergraduate columnists-several of them writers of distinction--were allowed fuller and freer scope. Appraisals of new books, reports of addresses to clubs in the city, interviews with visiting musical celebrities, listings of specially interesting classroom lectures were sandwiched in between stories about sports, dances, and fraternities. Advertisements extolled the virtues of Lucky Strike, the "Light Smoke," and Chesterfields, "Delicious, Makes Me Think of Fruit Cake." Tradesmen peddling food, clothes, gasoline, and pens solicited patronage through the pages of the Campus. The Associated Collegiate Press in 1938 awarded the paper first-class rating.
A heated quarrel over the method of choosing the top personalities of the Campus staff brought on a modification in the selection process, which enhanced the authority of the Board of Control. Humorous issues came off the press each year; The Rumpus of 1934, for example, picked the "Flicker Queen," Mae West, as next president of the U. of R., asserting that she would "draw many men to our campus." The Sour Chimes in 1938 poked fun at Valentine's vision of reproducing Oxford University beside the Genesee, though a minor poetic talent rejoiced over the prospect of an Oxford type boat crew.
A promise by Campus editors to publish (1938) a literary supplement was not fulfilled; evidently that pledge was given because exclusively literary publications at the River had foundered on financial reefs. Essays, short stories, poems, along with a letter of commendation from John Dewey, educational philosopher, appeared in The Littoral, first put out in April, 1931; one more issue and the promising adventure succumbed.
Even more ambitious was The Soapbox, a monthly which survived, miraculously, for four academic years. It provided a lively forum for student expression of opinion, and, very definitely a gadfly, advocated change in the election method for Campus leaders, the sale of alcoholic beverages in Todd, lighter class assignments by professors, and carried articles on "Religion and the College Student," one of which evoked a barbed protest from a Roman Catholic undergraduate.
A humorous magazine, with women as well as men contributing, called "The Yellow Jacket," lasted for three numbers in 1936-1937. Whether the humor was anything more than "insane nonsense," as the Campus charged, provoked an acute controversy, the Campus having the last word.
The format of the Interpres showed no significant alteration. Some years, of course, the photography was better than in others; sometimes, the textual material attained a commendable literary level, sometimes it was merely mediocre. The yearbook escaped financial troubles thanks to Board of Control and trustee subsidies, for which in return each undergraduate received the annual gratis; women rejected (1935) a bid to unite the two college yearbooks. Valentine followed the established presidential policy concerning undergraduate publications, writing that the University allows "freedom of expression" unless "the bounds of good taste" are too far transgressed.
Conditions born of the depression obliged fraternities to increase the size of their chapters, though the proportion of eligible men who actually joined held consistently at around fifty per cent. Consideration was given (no more than that) to enlarging houses in order to satisfy the growing demand for more living quarters. As the decade lengthened, procedures during the pre-initiation period--"Hell Week"--turned less immature, more decorous; President Valentine adopted a wait-and-see stance with regard to fraternities, but a careful investigation by his aide, Hovde, produced a report describing the fraternity situation as excellent and anticipating even better things in the 1940's.
At long last, in 1931, the Students' Association voted recognition to the Jewish fraternity, Kappa Nu, which immediately gained a seat on the Hellenic Council and was eligible to compete in intramural sports and the interfraternity song and scholarship contests; members demonstrated their intellectual quality by winning the top position in scholarship three years in a row, which gave their fraternity permanent possession of the Scholarship Cup. The Rochester chapters of Kappa Nu, Psi U, and Deke in the 1930's each acted as hosts for the annual convention of their national societies.
As mentioned before, Sigma Chi took its place (1932) among the national fraternities at Rochester. Initiation into Alpha Delta Phi (which may or may not have been typical) cost fifty dollars and annual dues stood at ninety dollars (1935-1936). When the Valentine administration denied Beta Delta Gamma permission to seek national affiliation, the fraternity dissolved, though an alumni organization lived on and in 1949 assisted indispensably in resurrecting the chapter. Men who did not belong to a fraternity formed a group called the "Independents" and subsequently known as the "Weld Club"--it never possessed much vitality.
Apart from the so-called Christmas chapel when carols were sung, attendance at religious exercises was pitifully small. Professors who arranged for Rochester preachers to speak at chapel commonly apologized for the scantiness of the audience. President Valentine sponsored (1938) an All-University vespers on Sunday afternoon, first in Strong Auditorium and after that at Kilbourn Hall--the response was gratifying. A survey of 1933 revealed that eighty per cent of the men belonged to a religious organization, two-thirds to Protestant denominations, one-fifth to the Roman Catholic Church, and one-tenth to Jewish temples.
The college "Y" severed its ties in 1938 with the city "Y" and presently adopted the name of the Interfaith Collegiate Religious Association, which welcomed Newman and Christian Science clubs and a Jewish religious group. Before that, "Y" members staffed boys clubs in the city, conducted an annual faculty smoker and Sunday afternoon devotions, and sent out speakers to address Rochester youth groups on a variety of subjects; in 1933 an Institute of Religion brought well-known spokesmen on religion to the campus.
The University played host to a growing array of special lecturers, American and foreign, who talked on international affairs for the most part. Representative among them was Ernest Jaeckh, a German political expert who blandly asserted that Adolf Hitler would never come to power, Heinrich Bruening, ex-Chancellor of Germany, and Count Carlo Sforza, exiled former foreign minister of Italy. Sherwood Eddy, international Y.M.C.A. personality, Samuel G. Inman on Latin America, Philip F. LaFollette, William S. Knudsen, president of General Motors, Walter White, executive secretary of the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People, W. J. ("Rabbit") Maranville, veteran baseball professional, and Professors George L. Kittredge of Harvard, James T. Shotwell of Columbia, and Edwin S. Corwin of Princeton addressed undergraduate audiences. The national president of the Foreign Policy Association, Raymond L. Buell, was the star attraction at an Institute of Pacific Affairs. Since he refused to make anything like an apology for his abusive remarks about President Rhees, Norman Thomas, Socialist spokesman, was again denied a hearing at the University. To affirm the unity of the University amidst institutional diversity and to forge a deeper sense of community, Valentine inaugurated (1937) an All-University Convocation. Meeting in the Eastman Theatre, this annual affair was infused with dignity by means of an academic procession and an address by the President, with music by Eastman School students.
The excellent River Campus facilities gave a boost to physical education, intramural games, and intercollegiate competition. Class instruction laid increasing emphasis on sports that men might play after graduation such as tennis, squash, golf, in place of time-honored calisthenics; to the conventional intramural offerings soccer, track, touch football, and tennis were added, and rivalry, especially between fraternities, was usually quite keen.
Football beyond doubt commanded the most general interest in rivalries with other colleges. On the whole, teams acquitted themselves well under the tutelage of "Pittsburgh Tom" Davies, who coached nine years, setting a U. of R. record. Lean seasons followed his departure in 1934, which inevitably provoked animated discussion in sports-minded circles about creating athletic scholarships or subsidies in some other guise, but Valentine rebuffed all proposals, reiterating the position on sports set forth in his inauguration speech. Outstanding gridiron performers were Gerald S. McGuire, 1931, Charles E. ("Dink") Erdle, 1933, David S. Grice, 1935, Richard J. Fink, 1936 (later, while a medical student, he played professional football with the Washington Redskins), Felix J. Balonek, 1938, and from the class of 1937, Robert S. Babcock, Leonard C. Buyse, William S. Nordburg, and Gerald B. Zornow. Directly because of a rule requiring that four football games must be scheduled each year with member colleges, the University withdrew (1934) from the New York State Intercollegiate conference.
Until the season of 1935-1936, basketball, Louis A. Alexander coaching, turned in only lackluster records; then ensued a succession of extraordinary teams. Play was speeded up (1937) by a new rule that after a score the ball, instead of being tossed up in the center, should be passed onto the court from out of bounds by the team against which the tally was made. The 1938-1939 club won every game except one with Michigan, which was lost by a solitary basket; veteran followers of U. of R. basketball hailed this team as the finest ever to wear the dandelion yellow. That year, too, the baseball team--the popularity of this sport kept falling--lost only a single contest," Gerald B. Zornow, who later had a tryout in professional ball, pitched a no-hit, no-run contest against Hamilton (1937). Among other stellar players of the '30's were Russell J. Anderson, 1937, Robert Collett, 1940, Walter J. Drojarski, non-graduate, 1934, and Peter A. Stranges, 1941. Anderson and Collett also stood out on the basketball court, as did Allen M. Brewer, 1940, Nelson W. ("Bud") Spies, 1938, and Robert G. Ulrech, 1940.
University records in track and field events were repeatedly broken. Twice the college sent runners to the Penn Relays, and Warren W. Phillips, 1937, ranks among the University's best trackmen; Kappa Nu donated (1933) a trophy and plaque on which names of outstanding track performers were inscribed. Cross-country running, after a short burst of popularity, was soon dropped (1936) as a varsity letter sport. The swimming club, a River Campus innovation, started off poorly but late in the 1930's did well, being undefeated and untied in two years out of three, to the unfeigned delight of Coach Roman L. Speegle. Intercollegiate soccer had a place on the sports schedule of 1934, and golf two years later. Such fine players as Matthew J. Pillard and William C. MacQuown, Jr., both 1938, and Robert L. Wells and William E. Summerhays, both 1939, put the game of soccer on the Rochester athletic map.
On the less mature aspect of the college experience, certain customs concerning greenlings were transferred to the River Campus, such as the requirements that they wear "beanies" (toques in winter) from six to six except on Sundays, say "hello" to fellow students, attend meetings of the Students' Association and of their class, and learn college songs and cheers. Many petty regulations, to be sure, were abandoned in the course of the 1930's, but when it was bruited about that all rules of behavior would be abolished, the Freshmen (soon to become lordly sophomores) voted (1937) that the regulations should be preserved. Underclass scraps and tug-of-war competitions lost something of their traditional allure, and the Valentine administration moved to eliminate the flag rush as hazardous to limb if not to life. Warfare between dormitories frequently took the form of water fights, in which metal wastebaskets full of water were poured on opponents, but the authorities put a stop to that diversion by having holes punched into the sides of the baskets.
On one occasion when the timekeeper at a basketball game in the Palestra fired a gun to signal the end of the contest, a very dead owl came tumbling down from the rafters. A bell, normally used to indicate that playing time was over, had been moved by one or more thoughtless pranksters to the wings of Catharine Strong Hall to be set off in the midst of a women's dramatic performance. Luckily, it was discovered in advance, for had the bell, which was of the fire-gong type, been sounded during the play an audience panic might well have ensued.
On another occasion, jokesters stocked the swimming pool with fish, not long before an intercollegiate meet was scheduled. An employee learned what had happened and a crew of workmen, hurriedly assembled, removed the unwelcome guests, while a crowd of cheering undergraduates looked on and proffered advice. "The culprit was never found and probably thought he had pulled a wonderful stunt--which he had," the Superintendent of Buildings and Grounds wryly observed. 6
In the autumn of 1930, after the Prince Street Campus became the exclusive domain of women students in the daytime, President Rhees termed the event the beginning of "a notable epoch in the life of our College for Women." Calling the original female undergraduates "worthy and able pioneers, he rejoiced that the gentler sex now had an academic home of its own, the ladies counseled to guard "the memories and influences" of the formative era of the University, and summoned the alumnae to display the same affectionate loyalty "as you have given to it hitherto." An estimated 500 alumnae turned out for a gala Home Coming Day whose high points were inspection of the remodeled campus structures and a trustee-provided luncheon. 7
"We are like young eagles," commented a student ecstatically, "learning to fly off the edge of a cliff." Helen D. Bragdon, who undertook the deanship at this time, soon found that the separate campus created some "teething troubles." Praised by an undergraduate reporter for her "charming manner, quiet energy, and sparkling enthusiasm," the Dean summarized the first year of the exclusive College for Women as a time of "initial enthusiasm over the new order, followed by bewilderment and inactivity, then by a mood of searching inquiry and criticism, then by the beginning of a new college consciousness and personality." 8
Extracurricular affairs were placed under the supervision of a Board of Control, presently restyled the Faculty-Student Council, comprising six students, three professors, and an alumna. As authorized in its constitution, this body scrutinized budgets of student organizations, scheduled elections, fixed dates for social functions, and made itself generally useful. To the traditional extracurriculum for the women like the jolly Christmas supper, the gay Christmas dance (held for several years in the Todd Union), and the President's tea and dance for Seniors, new activities of particular interest to women were introduced, especially in the realm of athletics. And the yearly Moving Up Day ceremonies took on larger dimensions; following supper in the Anthony Gymnasium, singing students paraded to Anderson Hall steps, Seniors in gowns and mortarboards, the others wearing caps with tassels of their class and white dresses. Class songs were sung, awards for athletic prowess were distributed, the Senior Marsien Society tapped Juniors, and Freshmen joyfully burned their berets. A lively controversy emerged over the pattern of the college ring; when a more expensive new one was adopted, alumnae protested so vigorously that the original ring with an onyx and gold background and the University seal was restored to favor.
It has previously been mentioned that the trustees set up an Advisory Board for the college, containing four trustees, the Dean, two alumnae, and a Rochester woman who was not a U. of R. graduate. To inform secondary school pupils on the opportunities the college afforded an attractive booklet, the first of its kind, was published (1933), showing varied campus scenes, and describing student life; Dean Bragdon repeatedly called attention to the urgency of wider publicity for the Women's College. The faculty committee charged with drafting the Ten-Year Plan for the Women's College recommended (1934) the provision of more courses of instruction devoted to the fine arts, the family, and the home, enlarged library, athletic, and residential facilities, more scholarships, and the appointment of more women to the faculty, so that each department of learning would have at least one female teacher of the highest standing. 9
To counsel undergraduates on vocational opportunities and obstacles, Isabel K. Wallace, 1916, had been brought into the faculty. Experienced in these matters, she arranged vocational teas and visits to Rochester industries and social welfare institutions, and presented a course on "Women in Industry and Society'' which introduced upperclass students to employment conditions and limitations. With the depression deepening, her work gained increased significance. When employment could be obtained at all by graduates, starting salaries had dropped substantially; the average annual pay for a business post, for instance, fell from $1,223 in 1930 to $998 four years later, teaching positions from $1,337 to $1,056, (only four per cent of the class of 1933 who wished to teach obtained appointments, as compared with forty per cent three years before), and social service work from $1,695 to $1,195. Some graduates who were competent as stenographers began their careers for as little as $750 a year! 10
Women who desired to take courses on the River Campus caused special administrative perplexities. Regular transportation service at nominal cost was provided between the two campuses by taxicabs or motorbus, and initially no restrictions were placed on students on one campus enrolling for an advanced course on the other campus. But the volume of interchange attained such proportions that it was decided that women might attend classes on the River only in exceptional cases. The offering of more upperclass courses at Prince Street, duplicating classes on the River, alleviated the situation somewhat.
By 1937 Dean Bragdon and President Valentine, who had large differences of opinion over the conduct and character of higher education for women, had come close to the parting of the ways. The President, in a sentence, believed strongly that purely intellectual interests should be stressed "at some necessary expense to the activity interests--" an approach to which the Dean dissented. For outsiders at the time, ignorant of the evidence in the case, it was supposed that Valentine virtually forced her to resign, which was wholly untrue. The correspondence shows that his handling of the delicate situation verged on the exemplary, though he flatly dismissed as "impassible" a request by the Dean for a conference with him and the Chairman of the Board of Trustees. Her unsolicited resignation became operative in July, 1938, reasonable financial compensation for a year was arranged, and she assured Valentine that he had demonstrated "the most notable instance of fairness and generosity I have ever witnessed." After a term as dean of Hood College, Miss Bragdon passed to the presidency of Lake Erie College, and then became general director of the American Association of University Women. 11
Well over thirty candidates for the vacant deanship came under review, an invitation in the end being extended to and accepted by Janet H, Clark, who had been strongly recommended by acquaintances on the Medical School faculty. The daughter of a distinguished scientific family at the Johns Hopkins University, Mrs. Clark had herself gained a doctorate in physics at that institution and, at the time of her election to the U. of R., she presided over a girls school in Baltimore. Apart from her administrative chores at Rochester she held a professorship in the biological sciences and carried on researches on problems like the biological effect of radiation. Personally, she felt that she was "not really the executive type" and only firm presidential pressure kept her from becoming a teacher full-time. So impressed was Valentine with her sterling abilities that when she was under consideration for the presidency of the Connecticut College for Women, he let it be known that the University would "do everything in our power to keep her in Rochester." She remained in fact from December, 1938, until her retirement in 1952. 12
Nearly all the historic University structures on the Prince Street Campus were remodeled before the women took exclusive possession, and the physical properties were further expanded in the 1930 ' s partly to care for the larger undergraduate body which stood at 516 in 1939, or almost exactly one hundred more than at the beginning of the decade. As of 1937, three out of five students claimed Rochester as their home, twenty-eight percent came from elsewhere in New York, eleven percent from other states, and these proportions held steady for the rest of the decade.
Of the new facilities easily the most distinctive and significant was the Cutler Union, "a beautiful building, beautifully furnished." The Union, on which work started in 1932, was situated on the southeast sector of the college grounds, the three-decade old Alumni Gymnasium being razed to provide the site. At the ground-breaking ceremony, Dean Bragdon accurately predicted that the Union would become the focus of extracurricular cultural activities, a college forum, and "the home of gracious hospitality." Committees of undergraduates and alumnae shared in decisions on the design and layout of the building.
In accordance with the tastes of the late James G. Cutler, whose liberal bequest financed the construction of the Union, academic Gothic architecture was decided upon, and Indiana limestone was used, Ezra Winter served as designer; a lofty clock tower surmounted the three-story edifice. Inside, a spacious auditorium seating 800 was equipped with a large stage, and, by removing the chairs, the hall could be transformed into a dance floor or used for banquets. Ceiling panels in red bore symbols of the fine arts, the lyre, for instance, representing music, while snowflakes spotted blue panels. Sidewalls carried the coat of arms of the Cutler family and "Meliora" and curtains were decorated with dandelion motifs. A splendid, paneled lounge with a portrait of Cutler over the fireplace contained a plaque explaining that
This Student Union
of the College for
James Gould Cutler
Anna Katharine Cutler
of whose large
visions for higher
education of women
at Rochester it is a
Small meeting and reception rooms occupied the balance of the first level; on the floor above, areas were set aside for various undergraduate activities, while a cafeteria, adjoining dining alcoves, and cloakrooms were laid out in the basement. Before long, a chapel was laid out on the third floor and assigned the name of Kay Duffield in appreciation of a religious worker at the college. Counting furnishings and equipment, the Union cost slightly in excess of $500,000, and it proved to be one of the most potent arguments against recurrent proposals to move the women undergraduates to the River Campus.
It was singular good fortune that Ruth A. Merrill, sometime assistant dean at Radcliffe, her own college, and more recently a student at the University of Minnesota where she received a doctorate, was chosen as director of the Union; for a time in the 1950's she was dean of women and acting dean of students. Not very long after her arrival in Rochester, a Croceus dedication hailed her as "the symbol of graciousness and hospitality." Student employees (remuneration thirty-five cents an hour in the depth of the depression) supplemented the small staff in the operation of the Union. Student use of the amenities far exceeded advance calculations; in 1934-1935, to illustrate, this "hive of activity" was the scene of 450 gatherings of one sort and another attended by more than 23,000. Careless smoking, even "wanton mutilation, " brought reproof from the director and thievery here and in other campus buildings necessitated the hiring of a security officer.
A trustee meeting in June of 1933 informally opened the Union, hundreds of visitors inspected the facilities during an autumn "Open House." The formal dedication took place on December 13, 1933, Professor Julius Seelye Bixler, a relative of Mrs. Rhees, speaking on "Some Neglected Aspects of Women's Education." Not surprisingly, Professor John R. Slater composed a "Tower Song."
Cutler Tower, singing tower,
Where the light sings all day long,
Amber light like music flowing,
Sweetest when the day is going
We forget the words, but never,
Never lose the song. 13
Catharine Strong Hall, meantime, had become the headquarters of the Department of Education--with a library of its own--and of the Extension Division and the Summer Session. Sibley Library collections grew steadily, though not fast enough to please captious undergraduates, whose complaints were somewhat tempered by more rapid delivery of books requested from Rhees," successful efforts were made to acquire titles relevant to Susan B. Anthony and school textbooks published before 1850. The browsing room quickly attained popularity, and in 1933 Margaret Withington, previously at Scripps College in California, was chosen chief librarian.
Women on the faculty took over the Prince Street faculty club, to which men were welcomed at lunchtime. At the University Avenue entrance to the college park handsome wrought iron gates were erected (1933). In 1939 the University purchased from the Rochester Academy of Medicine 15 (13) Prince Street for administrative offices, and the former quarters on the Prince Street side of the campus--originally the home of Professor Quinby--were torn down.
Interesting and highly successful was an experiment in cooperative dormitories, in which students could lodge and eat at minimum cost. Residents planned and cooked meals themselves, kept the house clean, and paid less than $250 for the academic year; "many a French verb," it was said, "is conjugated over the humdrum task of paring vegetables." Kendrick Hall, the pilot "coop," which opened in September, 1931, accommodated nineteen undergraduates and a house mother; to cut expenses to the bone, a Guernsey cow, called Azarella Boody, was acquired. The scheme worked so well that the former Psi U (Munro House) and Delta Upsilon (Helen Bragdon House) fraternity houses, the presidential residence at 440 University Avenue, after the Rhees moved to the Eastman House (Harriet Seelye House), were converted into cooperative dormitories, and a central agency purchased supplies for all of them. According to Dean Clark, the "coops" were "the most homelike places" she had ever seen on a college campus. 14
When Munro House came into use, it was stated that the name of the first Dean would be affixed to a "more stately mansion" if and when it was built--and that came to pass in 1939. Two years before, the trustees approved the erection of a new residential hall on the west side of Prince Street slightly northwest of the former presidential home, and Mrs. Valentine was put in charge of furnishings and decoration.
Greek revival in architectural style, topped by a quaint circular tower, the handsome brick structure with limestone trim consisted of three interlinked sections (the most southerly being attached to the Eastman School dormitories) of four stories. Depending on need, the residence would accommodate anywhere from eighty to one hundred and fifty students. There was a pleasing foyer, a graceful spiral staircase, a luxurious lounge and library, a large dining hall with a photomural on one wall of early Rochester (a knowing person could detect the first home of the U. of R.), rooms in which to entertain guests, and modest provision for sunbathing on the roof. First occupied in September of 1939, this "dream dormitory" made "each girl feel herself the original Prince Street Princess." 15
Proposals to remodel the original Alumni Gymnasium for use by the women never struck fire, but student agitation for larger athletic facilities, a swimming pool for one, flared up repeatedly. Against that background, architects prepared (1933) plans for a new gymnasium, but funds were not on hand to carry them out.
How then did extracurricular life fare under the new dispensation at Prince Street? Clubs of various kinds flourished like the proverbial bay tree, and virtually every department of learning boasted an undergraduate club to promote interest in learning. Dramatics and music groups had their ups and downs, but both benefited from the appointment to the teaching staff of professional directors. A branch of the League for Industrial Democracy lived only a short time, owing to its "definitely socialistic affiliations," the Tower-Times explained, but a spirited Liberal Center enlisted outside speakers to open Pandora's boxes of general discussion on subjects such as capitalism, Communism, family limitation, and juvenile delinquency.
Certainly one of the liveliest organizations on the campus was the "Y," which each year brought out a handbook for Freshmen and had a party for them, engaged in social welfare and settlement work, held discussions with factory girls, and sometimes staged musical comedies in place of the Kaleidoscope," these last spectacles touched a high point in 1935 with "Campus Baubles," in which dancing girls, smart costumes, and catchy music reminded imaginative patrons of Ziegfeld's Follies. For publicity, the managerial staff of a second show, "On the Brink," addressed a telegram to Adolf Hitler begging him not to launch another political thunderbolt until the performance was over. A worried telegraphist consulted the Dean on whether the appeal should actually be despatched to Berlin. The "Y" entertained (1937) representatives from thirty colleges affiliated with the New York State Christian Movement and converted (1939) a storeroom in Cutler Union into a chapel for personal devotions.
Formal chapel services, held in the Little Theatre of the Art Gallery and addressed by faculty members or Rochester clergymen, usually attracted only slim audiences; Sunday vespers proved a greater drawing card. For a time, religious interests were quickened (1933) by Mrs. Harper Sibley in her capacity of religious adviser. During much of the decade college assemblies were planned four times a month, two of them given over to Students' Association and class meetings, one a tour of the Memorial Art Gallery, and the last allotted to a secular speaker. Among distinguished guests on the campus were Professors John Erskine and Charles A. Beard, Andre Maurois, French author of popular biographies, and Julian Bryan, who at the Eastman Theatre presented a travelogue on "Russia To-Day."
Until 1932, when a new name was adopted, the Cloister Window was the principal purveyor of undergraduate news. Depending on the state of the treasury, four to six pages were printed every week and each issue carried one photograph. Dances received the same fullness of treatment as sports in the Campus, but there were also special articles by professors, reports on Art Gallery exhibitions, and snatches of doggerel or even a full humor column--"Meows from Kam-Puss"--usually the items had a U. of R. touch; a merry April Fool's issue came out as The Cloistered Widow. It must have been hard to find fresh materials, for news stories were often rehashed and repeated.
Tart letters to the editor in a "Reflector" section protested against administrative bans on the sale of cigarettes at the bookstore and conditions regarded as out of joint, such as a prohibition on cigarette advertisements in student publications. "Are we nuns stumbling about in a medieval convent?" inquired one distraught protestant. "We want instructors strewn throughout the [student] lounge," demanded another, "as handy guideposts."
On the reasoning that the name Cloister Window had lost its validity, the paper conducted a contest for something more germane. Tower Times, in tribute to the tower on Cutler Union, was ultimately picked and the first issue came off the press on October 28, 1932. Advertisements covered more space than before, even large ones now intended to stimulate the purchase of cigarettes. Columnists in a section entitled "World Events of the Week" strove to generate wider involvement in international affairs; one sensational headline proclaimed (1933) that the United States had declared war on Japan and the accompanying story recounted what had led up to the dread climax. Book reviews, Art Gallery, theatre, and musical offerings in the city, happenings in Cutler Union and "Y" plans received more attention. Doings of alumnae were occasionally reported and twice the Tower-Times united with the Alumnae News in bringing out special Christmas numbers. "We Cover the Water Front" related a little of what was going on at the River Campus.
It was standard practice to have the Croceus focus upon a definite theme without sacrificing the traditional features of the yearbook. In 1932, for instance, the editors ingeniously attempted to capture the atmosphere of a medieval village, the haughty aristocrats being the professors and students the lowly, down-trodden serfs. Azariah Boody supplied the theme two years later and Alice in Wonderland in 1936; post-impressionistic illustrations were drawn by Mrs. Willson H. Coates (Hilda Altschule). Although the Croceus experienced financial headaches--the issue of 1937 cost $2,700 which may be compared with $2,354 for a year of the Tower-Times --the editors turned down exploratory overtures for a merger with the Interpres, which might have yielded economies.
Women authors in the main created the materials for Meliora, a literary publication containing prose pieces, poetry, and assessments of books, which in time was absorbed first by In Medias Res, and in 1937 by the Dandelion. This magazine came out twice a year until 1946 and then annually until its demise four years thereafter.
For the sororities a large question in the early 1930's was a house to be used by all the groups. The university trustees in fact bought the Prince Street property of Delta Kappa Epsilon fraternity with the thought that part of it might form the site of a sisterhood building; a suggestion that the president's residence might be readapted for that purpose met with only a tepid response. In any case, the erection of Cutler Union removed any reasonable need for a separate sorority structure, and the very idea was tossed into the wastebasket; at least one sorority that had accumulated a house fund turned it into a scholarship award.
Cutler Union likewise put a fatal crimp on renewed discussion about national affiliation for the sororities. House parties, a Pan-Hellenic banquet, and an Intersorority Ball helped to keep the sisterhoods healthy and to attract about half the undergraduates into membership. In 1936-1937 the Tower-Times, contending that the Cutler Union adequately satisfied social needs, strongly advocated the abolition of sororities. On the other side, when a student poll on the subject was conducted, sentiment overwhelmingly favored retention; a second balloting revealed, however, a slight majority in favor of gradual abolition. Sigma Delta Phi, the Jewish sorority, disbanded in 1938-1939, partly because there were too few interested Jewish undergraduates, partly because the sorority system did violence to democratic ideals; thereafter, alumnae members met spasmodically for two decades. Alpha Sigma created (1934) a fund to provide a $100 scholarship named for Mrs. Charles Hoeing (Augusta Laney), an honorary sister. 16
Included in the women's athletic program were hockey and tennis, basketball and baseball, archery and swimming, the last in a city pool until the River Campus pool was made available one evening each week. Clogging and tap dancing, horseback riding, badminton, golf, and skiing all had their devotees. Observers did not soon forget a basketball contest in which a sextet of faculty women, decked out in livid green rompers, Dean Bragdon serving as cheerleader, defeated Juniors clad in dazzling black and white costumes. The Outing Club, replacing the Hikers Club, arranged hikes and rented a cabin in the Bristol Hills south of Rochester as a weekend rendezvous.
Initiation of Freshmen, which in 1930 consisted of a day when they appeared on the Campus with black faces, outlandish costumes, and did obeisance before the Anderson statue, toned down later in the decade and for several years hazing was practically unknown.
Thanks to the amenities on River Campus, the ritual of Commencement weekend underwent some changes. Men's Senior Class Day ceremonies--in the years when they were held--took place on the steps of Rhees Library and consisted of a class history, will, and prophecy, a puff by each man from the class pipe, and a draught from the flowing bowl," as the crown of the affair a sprig of ivy, in lieu of the traditional tree, was planted near a Campus building. Reuning alumni classes were assigned quarters in a dormitory for Commencement, and in 1936 a version of the pre-war Circle Night was restored and beer was on tap, which incensed some bone-dry graduates.
The baccalaureate service at which either President Rhees or Valentine spoke was held on Sunday afternoon in Strong Auditorium, an academic procession moving from Rhees Library to Strong and back at the close; a reception on the Eastman Quadrangle followed (1932), with faculty wives functioning as hostesses. Graduation exercises with the customary procession continued to be conducted on Monday morning at the Eastman Theatre. Taking brevity as the watchword, Valentine streamlined (1936) the ceremony. As soon as the participants in the procession had settled into seats, the Commencement orator spoke, then deans or director presented candidates for bachelors' and advanced degrees, honorary degrees were conferred, the Slater Commencement Hymn was sung, and the great organ played a recessional while the audience filed from the theatre. (Nominations for recipients of honorary, degrees, a subject in which Valentine was keenly interested, originated in a faculty committee and were passed on to the President for "advisement and elimination" before presentation to the trustees for final action.)
At one point bachelor candidates simply stood as their degrees were awarded, unless they had earned distinction in which case they advanced to the platform and were handed diplomas. About 1936, class marshals first stepped to the platform and were given baskets of "dummy" diplomas for their fellows.
Until 1937, a President's reception in the Art Gallery was a fixed event on graduation day. Alumni and alumnae met on their respective campuses for Commencement dinners. As in 1857 so in 1939, the University President, having been on duty for four years, was given "a college diploma" accompanied by a citation couched in "formal and formidable" Latin, the first read by Professor Asahel C. Kendrick, the second by his son, Ryland M. 17
Under the leadership of Alumni Secretary Hugh A. Smith, 1907, a series of alumni campus nights in Todd Union with dinner and speaker were arranged, and graduates were permitted to use the Gymnasium one evening a week for a modest fee. Smith also directed the annual alumni-giving campaign, but during the worst of the hard times the returns scarcely equaled the cost of solicitation. Esteemed and admired by the whole University, Smith's untimely death in 1936 removed a faithful servitor of higher education. In his stead, Charles R. Dalton, 1920, added the duties of alumni secretary to his other responsibilities, while the publication of the Rochester Review was turned over to an editorial board. Before long Dalton recommended a single graduate publication for all components of the University, and out of the discussion came a joint Alumni-Alumnae Review, as large as its two predecessors combined, which first appeared in the autumn of 1939. 18
The Alumnae Association profited from the energetic, part-time work of its executive secretary, Frances Barber Starr, 1921, who eventually obtained a permanent office in Cutler Union. She edited the periodical, The Alumnae News, organized Christmas and other parties and study groups; alumnae regional clubs, numbering twelve, occasionally met jointly with the men graduates. Contributors to the Alumnae Fund, used to defray the expenses of the Association, jumped from some 540 in 1930 to in excess of 100 in 1936. Starting in 1934, reuning classes contributed to a Dean's Fund, which would be handed out to needy and worthy students; and from 1935 onward the alumnae financed a scholarship of $500 to be awarded to a first-year woman; they talked of preserving Anthony Hall as a lasting memorial to the great suffragette leader, if the University should ever decide to abandon it for educational purposes.
From 1934 onward for several years, an Alumnae Council, drawing in graduates of the Eastman School, Nursing, the Extension Division, along with the College, held yearly conferences with an extensive program. When Mrs. Starr resigned (1936), Elizabeth Thulin Hoelscher, 1930, was put in charge of alumnae affairs. 19
A study of the college homes of men in Who's Who in America of 1931 disclosed eighty-three from the U. of R., placing it thirty-second in over 500 institutions in percentage of living alumni.
Among the graduates of the depression decade who relatively, early in their careers attained distinction in education and the advancement of learning were Joseph B. Platt, 1937, president, Harvey Mudd College; Thomas R. Forbes, 1933, professor and associate dean, Yale Medical School; Joseph F. Volker, 1938, dean and vice-president, University of Alabama; Lewis D. Conta, 1934, professor of mechanical and airspace sciences at the U. of R.; his colleague, Oscar E. Minor, 1933, teacher of mechanical engineering; Andre V. Gronicka, 1933, professor of German literature at the University of Pennsylvania; Robert F. Metzdorf, 1933, archivist at Yale, then appraiser and bibliographer; Elton Atwater, 1934, political scientist at Pennsylvania State University; Robert S. Babcock, 1937, the first Rhodes Scholar from the U. of R., provost of State Colleges in Vermont and Lieut. Governor of that state; Robert N. Burr, 1939, Latin American historian at UCLA; and John G. Broughton, 1936, official geologist of New York State.
Noted in public service were Elmer E. Batzell, 1938, lawyer and Washington official; and Samuel S. Stratton, 1937, mayor of Schenectady, New York, and congressman. Distinguished in the realm of entertainment were Carl E. Fisher, 1931, general manager of Broadway successes, and Margaret Brunssen Whedon, 1938.
Representative of the men who stood out in the business community were John H. Brinker, Jr., 1936, manufacturing; Joseph L. Caliri, 1938, corporation lawyer; Donald S. Frost, 1933, Donald A. Gaudion, 1936, J. Richard Goldstein, 1932, Fred H. Gowen, 1932, Howard Hennington, 1935, Robert B. Hoffman, 1933, William F. May, 1937, George H. Schreiner, 1938, Paul D. Smith, 1937, Robert L. Wells, 1939, Joseph C. Wilson, 1931, Gerald B. Zornow. 1937--all involved in one way or another in industrial or financial enterprises. When Harvard University conferred (1967) a doctorate of laws degree on Wilson, the citation read, "An eminent industrial leader and exemplary benefactor of education in public causes; would that we could multicopy his kind throughout the land." 20
To the well-being of their Alma Mater, Gowen, Gaudion, May, Metzdorf, Stratton, Wilson, and Zornow contributed as trustees, Wilson holding the chairmanship from 1959 to 1967. Also on the board were Robert P. Larson, 1939, banker, Joseph E. Morrissey, 1932, merchandising executive, and David M. Allyn, 1931, insurance broker. At the Centennial Convocation of 1950, William A. Ritchie, then senior scientist in archaeology at the New York State Museum, who had received a bachelor's degree in 1936 through the Extension Division (later the University School), was honored with a University award. Nils Y. Wessell, who in 1938 was granted a Ph.D. in psychology, became the President of Tufts University and subsequently President of the Institute for Educational Development in New York City.
Like graduates of other institutions of higher education for women, Rochester alumnae made themselves socially useful in homes and avocations, though relatively few pursued vocations in which by displaying their talents and skills they might win wide acclaim. After earning a doctorate, Cora Hochstein Feld, 1935, distinguished herself in the Foreign Service of the United States. An author of articles and books, Mary C. Dick, 1938, likewise handled public relations for the National League for Nursing. Directorships in several Rochester social agencies led to the appointment of Marie Freer Porter, 1931, to the New York State Board of Social Welfare. Writer of music and a missionary in West China, T. Janet Surdam, 1935, recounted her ordeals at the hands of Communist Chinese in 200 Days in Prison ; upon returning to the United States she continued in religious work. Monica Mason McConville, 1935, housewife, served as a trustee of the University. Her classmate, Laura Murphy Auburn, social worker and politician, won election to the Connecticut General Assembly.
Footnotes for Chapter 27
- The data in this section and those that follow have been drawn largely from the Campus and the Interpres, 1930-1939. President's Report, 1932 -1933. Trustee Records, VII, January 27, 1934, October 29, 1938. Alan Valentine to Trustees, August 24, 1938. "Dormitories. College for Men." Rhees Library Archives.
- Alan Valentine to George H. Stoddard, May 2, 1950. Valentine Papers.
- R D&C, March 13, 14, 1936. Time, XXVII, March 30, 1936. Charles R. Dalton, "Rochester Prize and Genesee Scholarship Awards, 1932-1942." M.A. thesis, U. of R., 1943.
- Campus, LXVIII, January 15, 1943.
- Morris, "...Iota of ... Phi Beta Kappa," 26-28. Sigma Xi Records, 1930-39. Rhees Library Archives.
- Clarence A. Livingston to A. J. May, April 5, 1965. Rhees Library Archives.
- RAN, V (1930), no. 1, 3, 4. Unless otherwise indicated, the story of the Women's College is based upon materials in The Cloister Window, its successor, The Tower Times, or the Croceus yearbook.
- President's Report, 1930-1931.
- RAN, VII (1933), no. 4, 1. Faculty Minutes, XII, October 4, 1934.
- A study of the women who graduated from 1930 through 1933 revealed that nearly one half undertook graduate or professional study, mostly for teaching or library service, and another quarter studied for business or a profession. Isabel K. Wallace, "The Trend Toward Graduate Study during the Depression Years," Journal of Higher Education (1939), 324-329.
- Alan Valentine to Helen D. Bragdon, July 6, 28, 1937. Valentine Papers. Bragdon to Valentine, July 15, September 20, November 18, 24, 1937. Ibid. Valentine to Walter Hullihen, March 8, 1938. Ibid. R D&C, December 2, 1937, June 4, 1938.
- R D&C, June 21, December 6, 1938. R T-U, August 31, 1938. Alan Valentine to Janet H. Clark, July 15, 1942. Valentine Papers. Clark to Valentine, July 21, 1942. Ibid. Valentine to Katharine Blount, October 30, 1941. Ibid. Tower Times, XXVII, April 25, 1952, 4; Interpres, XCIV, Class of 1953, 8-9 (Clark).
- Raymond N. Ball to Rush Rhees, April 16, 1932. Rhees Papers. RAN, VII (1933), no. 5, 2. Ruth A. Merrill to A. J. May, July 28, 1966. Rhees Library Archives. RAR, XXI (June-July, 1943), no. 4, 4. Tower Times, XXVII, December 14, 1951, 5 (Merrill).
- R D&C, June 6, 1932. RAN, IX (1935), no. 3, 1. New York Times, May 23, 1937. Janet H. Clark to A. J. May, October 6, 1966. Rhees Library Archives.
- Trustee Records, VII, November 27, 1937. Tower-Times, XIV, October 7, 1938. Ibid., XV, September 29, 1939. Croceus, XXXII (1940), 96. RAR, XVII (1939), no. 3, 11-12. Ibid., XIX (1941), no. 4, 25.
- Executive Committee Minutes, May 6, 1931, Faculty Minutes, XI, June 16, 1932.
- R D&C, June 18, 1935. Alan Valentine to Carl W. Lauterbach, May 14, 1936. Valentine Papers. Valentine to Howard Hanson, December 6, 1935. Ibid.
- RAR, XIV (1936), no. 3, 51-52. Ibid., XVIII (1939), no. 1, 3-4. R D&C, July 29, 1936. Charles R. Dalton to Alan Valentine, January 23, 1939. Valentine Papers.
- Frances Barber Starr, op. cit. Rhees Library Archives. RAN,VIII (1934), no. 4, 1. Gladys H. Welch, 1920, to Alan Valentine, March 3, 1936. Valentine Papers. Valentine to Welch, March 6, 1936. Ibid.
- R T-U, January 19, 1968 (Fisher). RAR, IX (1930-1931), no. 2, 52-53. New York Times, June 16, 1967 (Wilson).