Chapter 33: The First Century Ends
The post-war years witnessed the biggest University construction enterprises and real estate transactions since the occupation of the River Campus in 1930. First in line was a naval science building, erected to the south of Rhees Library and called Harkness Hall in memory of Rear-Admiral William Harkness of the famous University class of 1858. On the exterior the three-storied structure conformed to standard River Campus architecture. Laid out like a ship, the hall contained offices and classrooms, a naval library, a practice range, navigation instruments, and in the basement equipment to teach naval tactics; the top floor was not put to immediate use. Rising prices pushed the cost of the building and equipment to fifty percent above the original estimates, and despite prolonged negotiations the Navy Department refused to bear part of the expense. As the climax of the dedicatory exercises in June of 1946, the NROTC staged a gala military ball. 1
The ill-starred adventure in electrical engineering necessitated the construction of a two-story wing on the south end of what became Gavett Hall. Finished in October, 1947, it had faculty offices, computing and class rooms, a shop, and a large library. That year enrollment in all branches of engineering swept past the 400 mark, almost twice as large as before the war.
To carry on advanced instruction and research in physics, Bausch and Lomb Hall was substantially expanded (1946). But more exciting by far was the construction of a giant cyclotron or atom-smasher for research in nuclear physics on the southeastern rim of the campus; reportedly this huge 250 million volt monster was the second most powerful in existence. It was largely paid for by the United States Navy Department, which was likewise responsible for operating expenses. The University contributed two buildings to the complex, built in a small ravine where the embankment formed a radiation shield; to haul in the heavy research equipment a short, temporary standard gauge railway track was laid down. After two and a half years of building, the cyclotron went (1949) into operation in the presence of a company of distinguished guests with Lee A. DuBridge, then president of the California Institute of Technology, as the principal speaker. 2
Meantime, the University had allied (1946) with eight other eastern universities in forming the Associated Universities, Inc. to manage vast, government-financed laboratories established at Brookhaven on Long Island for basic research in nuclear science.
Following lengthy debate, the trustees authorized the erection of a five-story extension on the northern end of Lattimore Hall. Work space was provided for eight senior staff members and about fifty graduate students or post-doctoral fellows engaged in investigations inorganic or physical chemistry. A specialized library was installed on the top floor, and there the editorial offices of the Journal of the American Chemical Society, the most widely circulated publication of its kind, were eventually located.
Far the greater cost of the construction and equipment of the new wing, which as usual soared well beyond expectations, was borne by industrial firms and individuals who mostly chose to remain anonymous. Ceremonies of dedication were conducted on October 25, 1949, in connection with a meeting of the National Academy of Sciences, an elite society of 450 to which Dean George H. Whipple and Professor Wallace O. Fenn of the Medical Center and chemist W. Albert Noyes, Jr., then belonged. 3
Dining and housing facilities for the greatly enlarged River Campus' student population raised acute problems. Thanks to a subsidy from the New York State government, extensive alterations were made (1946) in Todd Union, the former bookstore, for instance, being converted into a bakeshop (the bookstore found a temporary haven in the basement of Rhees Library) and subsequently a new kitchen and a cafeteria were provided. These improvements came in the wake of angry undergraduate complaints about the dining service. Enumerating no less than eight types of criticism, Dean Wilder commented, "Food service in a college dining hall is a perennial problem. Right now it is aggravated by the high prices of both raw food and labor." On the advice of an ad hoc student committee, five hearty (masculine) dinners a week were planned at a cost of four dollars, and when that failed to satisfy the price was scaled down to $3.25. Not long afterward, the dining situation having deteriorated, if anything, Wilder received a notable communication, "It's enough to make a saint swear! Prices are fantastic--men eat in their own rooms for a third of what dining in Todd costs. Frustration, dissatisfaction, and mistrust are rife," and the allegations were amply documented. A drastic shakeup in the Todd managerial staff and accelerated service soothed protestants markedly. 4
Notwithstanding the congestion in the dormitories--two men occupying rooms intended for one--a few; University School students were assigned rooms and the Faculty Club was restored in the west end of Burton Hall. State aid financed a slight enlargement of living space in the Stadium Dormitory, and the national government stepped in with money to alleviate the housing headache. The Federal Public Housing Authority (1946) allocated funds to build two makeshift T-shaped structures to accommodate about 145 single war veterans, to the north of the existing dormitories, and to lay out a similar housing complex for married veterans, their wives and babies, on a Lattimore Road tract southwest of Helen Wood Hall; administrative officers kept saying that more permanent residence halls were urgently needed. The River Campus "barracks" with their thin walls were noisy, making study and sleeping difficult, and protests were registered almost daily. In 1950 the trustees agreed that drawings should be prepared for additional dormitories, and recreation lounges were blocked out in Burton and Crosby Halls.
Delayed by shortage of plumbing and other supplies, the family units--over eighty of them--on the Lattimore Road area were not fully ready for occupancy until 1948, and they served their purpose until demolished in 1953. Tenants liked the low rent, set out trees in the name of beautification, and cultivated vegetable gardens. Demand for quarters, however, far outstripped the supply; of some 250 married undergraduates only about thirty-five obtained lodgings at University Village, or, as it was dubbed, "The Mud Flats." Appeals went out to Rochester homeowners to rent idle rooms to student veterans and their families. 5
Acute housing shortages bore heavily upon faculty newcomers and staff technicians, but their plight was eased by the development of University Park on a thirteen acre parcel of ground south of the Medical Center near the Barge Canal. By agreement with the University, which sold it the land, a corporation of seven banks--one of them the Community Savings Bank of Rochester--undertook to construct an apartment complex of 184 permanent dwelling units of one or two bedrooms on an investment of around $1,500,000. Completed in 1949, preference in tenancy was reserved for families connected in some way with the University. It is a pity that no one proffered a suggestion to investigate the possibility of acquiring and rehabilitating the old United States Hotel on West Main Street, the first home of the University, for young faculty couples or graduate students. 6
Simultaneously, essential repairs were made to the original River Campus structures, restoring them to their pre-war condition. An under- graduate petition for an interdenominational chapel opposite Strong Auditorium and a request by outside interests to use the Auditorium as a non-profit summer theatre--a recurrent idea--were turned down by University officers. Expansion of physical properties made (1948) necessary a big increase in the capacity of the heating plant and major extensions of the - electrical network. At long last, too, the dangerous approach to the River Campus along the River Boulevard (from the north) was rectified; an S-curve sufficiently wide for only two cars and winding beneath two railway bridges was eliminated (1950), and the roadway was broadened to four lanes with only a single gentle bend. 7
Since the enlarged immediate postwar registration exceeded the capacity of River Campus facilities, the University negotiated (1946) a contract with the Rochester Board of Education to rent six classrooms, lounging areas for students and teachers, and space for a small reference library at the Madison High School, across the Genesee about two miles away from the campus. There for two years approximately one hundred freshmen who resided in Rochester or who obtained rooms in the city were taught standard first- year academic subjects. For physical education they repaired to the campus where they were eligible to take part in the extracurriculum; eyebrows were arched when men at the "Madison Annex" captured four of the five freshmen class offices! 8
At the other extreme of Rochester, Eastman House, the presidential home, passed (1947) out of the ownership of the University, a possibility envisaged in the will of the Kodak philanthropist. In 1944, on Valentine's recommendation the trustees agreed that the mansion should soon cease to be the executive residence. Various projects for the use of the property had their partisans; a Methodist pastor, for instance, inquired whether the estate could be bought for the future site of a sanctuary and others recommended that it be converted into a dormitory for graduate students, or a University language house, or headquarters of the Honors Division. It was also suggested that the property might become the center of a University department of photography to train students for medical and educational vocations. Like the other proposals, this one failed of adoption (an established Columbia University course in photography had attracted very few students), yet the idea contained the germ of the ultimate solution. 9
A special trustee committee was instructed (1946) to confer with Kodak executives on a plan to convert the East Avenue property into a living, permanent memorial to George Eastman, to take the form of a museum of the history of photography, an international center to exhibit the art and science of photography in all its phases. Consultations produced an agreement turning the estate over to a new organization, the George Eastman House, Incorporated, to be managed by a joint board drawn from the Kodak Company, which agreed to renovate and maintain the property, and from the University trustees. The University retained the furnishings, including a collection of paintings and rugs with an inventory value exceeding $1.2 million. Disposal of the property freed for University educational purposes the income from the $2 million maintenance fund provided in the Eastman will. 10
The decision on the Eastman property raised the question of a home for the University president. Several East Avenue possibilities were considered, and the Babcock residence, cornering on Berkeley Street, was finally chosen. Though smaller than the Eastman mansion, of course, it none the less was a commodious red brick dwelling of the townhouse style of architecture popular at the turn of the century. At much greater expense than had been anticipated, the Babcock property was fitted up for presidential occupancy and furniture was moved over from the Eastman House. Since the Babcock residence had been willed to the Eastman School, the School was compensated by the allocation of additional scholarship funds.
Valentine was happy over the prospect of moving into a home "more in keeping with the academic way of life," as he said, half in jest, half in earnest, at the inauguration of the photographic museum on November 9, 1949, "No other member of my impoverished profession ever lived so magnificently so long...In these days no socially conscious person could enjoy such private splendor without a sense of guilt." However, the younger Valentine daughter dissented and publicly protested the prospective loss of a piano and a pool for goldfish. Paternal promises promptly assuaged her anguish. 11
On the east side of Rochester, too, the property at 11 Prince Street, adjacent to the offices of the University central administration, was conveyed (1951) to the University by James Sibley Watson, Jr. The large University athletic field at Culver Road and Main Street, scene of sporting events from 1917 until the opening of the River Campus, which had been leased in 1940 to Montgomery Ward & Company for a store, returned to the University when the lease was terminated (1950) by mutual agreement. The trustees considered selling the land for a large housing development, but no decision was actually reached at the time. In the heart of the city, the City Hall Annex, entrusted to the University by the George Eastman will, was deeded to the municipal government fulfilling Eastman's wish, as the site of a Civic War Memorial. 12
By 1947 University library resources had grown to over 464,000 titles, a gain of fifty percent in a decade. To keep friends of the library acquainted with special collections, current donations, and the like, a University of Rochester Library Bulletin first appeared in November of 1945, and the useful Fortnightly Bulletin , listing acquisitions, was discontinued. Aside from purchases, resources were enlarged by gifts; including the fine C. Schuyler Davis collection of books for children and annual donations by the family and friends of the late Hiram Olsan, class of 1905, to buy rare books for the Treasure Room. On the other side of the ledger, the R. B. Adam collection on Samuel Johnson, housed in Rhees Library for a dozen years, was removed (1948) upon purchase by a bibliophile.
Very significant was the growth of collections of original papers having historical importance. The Thurlow Weed collection, deposited in 1936, was given to the University outright, and the descendants of Schuyler Colfax, vice-president of the United States under Ulysses S. Grant, presented a sheaf of his papers, and those of the James S. Wadsworth family of Geneseo were obtained on microfilm. But the major acquisition was the personal papers and related documentary materials of William Henry Seward bequeathed (1951) to the University by his grandson, William Henry Seward, 3rd., of Auburn, New York. A key personality in mid-nineteenth century American politics, Seward had served, successively as governor of New York, United States senator, and secretary of state in the cabinets of Lincoln and Andrew Johnson. Eagerly sought by many institutions, the Seward collection approached 150,000 items, many of them reposing in trunks and boxes for nearly a century and never examined by historians. Quite accurately, President Valentine called the acquisition "one of the most important events in the hundred year history of the library." This treasure was placed in a special Seward Room of Rhees Library, and thereafter scholars engaged in research on "The Middle Period" of American history had to place Rochester on their-itinerary. 13
Meantime, University authorities tried to secure the public papers of New York Governors Thomas E. Dewey and Alfred E. Smith, of James E. Farley, a powerful figure in the Democratic party and at one time Postmaster- General of the United States, and of lesser politicians of New York State. Eventually the Dewey collection was given to the University, but the others eluded all overtures, and the same was true of the papers of Bernard Baruch, legendary financier and counselor of presidents, and of Wendell Willkie, Republican presidential aspirant in 1940 (Papers and memorabilia of Democrats-for-Willkie were, however, deposited in the Library). Over the years various donors presented to the University large numbers of rare coins, which warranted (1949) the appointment of an honorary curator of the holdings. Librarian John R. Russell never ceased reminding the trustees and administrators of the deficiencies and overcrowding in Rhees Library, owing to the much larger body of undergraduate and graduate students and to the accelerating pace of book acquisitions. Reading rooms were congested and a huge increase in book circulation laid heavy burdens upon the staff, which at one point was smaller than before the war.
Students responded in a gratifying manner to weekly Coffee Hours in the Welles-Brown Room, initiated in 1945. After a modest collation, a University teacher or another competent person reviewed a book or discussed a current public issue or an exciting idea, and then the hour-long meeting was thrown open for an informal interchange between auditors and speaker. When it was discovered that books that required binding could be done more cheaply by commercial firms, the library bindery, in operation for eighteen years, closed (1948) down. 14
Towering over all other aspects of University life beside the Genesee between 1945 and 1951 was "the Battle of the Bulge," the inrush of students, certain implications (and complications) of which have previously been related. Taking the University as a whole, enrollment soared to 6,420 in the autumn of 1946 as against a comparable 5,620 before the war; full time learners numbered 3,834 (1,854 of them veterans) in contrast to 2,390. The next year the total reached 6,885, of whom more than 4,000 were full time, and in 1950 a record figure of 9,444 was reported with 4,284 full time decline then set in. 15
At the College for Men a formidable 6, 000 inquiries in 1945-1946 concerning admission burgeoned to 10,000 the following year, while interviews with applicants jumped to more than 1,000. As in the past, admissions officers focused on candidates who had achieved high ranking in their previous education, youths who were emotionally stable, willing to study, potential leaders, who promised to prove a credit to their Alma Mater. In the case of first-.year applicants a slight relaxation in traditional standards, was permitted; that is, they would be evaluated (1947) on the basis: of three instead of three and a half years of secondary schooling, together with their scores on College Board tests.
Male undergraduates numbered 1,217 in the autumn of 1946 (the pre-war peak, it may be recalled, was just under 700), climbed to an all-time high of 1,364 two years later, and in 1950 slipped back to 1,054. Actually, in the preceding year the nation-wide tidal wave had so far declined that colleges resumed the pre-war practice of recruiting students, and Rochester revived (1948) University Day When prospective applicants were entertained. With the coming of the Korean war (1950), it looked as though the armed forces would again make deep inroads into the student body; in fact, undergraduates doing satisfactory academic work were deferred to June, 1951, and premedical and predental students were accorded indefinite deferment.
The University record for the greatest number of members of a single family in college at the same time was broken in 1948 when six children of W. Robert Neel, non-graduate 1906; and his daughter-in-law and a son-in-law were in attendance; five of them received bachelor's diplomas in 1949, possibly a national record for the number of graduating students in a single class from one family. 16
Students originating in foreign lands enhanced the multi-textured makeup of the college body; in the year 1948, forty-eight students came from twenty-one countries, Canada supplying the biggest delegation, China a close second. At one time or another in the late 1940's, France and the Netherlands, West Germany and Austria, Greece and Norway all had sons or daughters at the U. of R. and no doubt they benefited their undergraduate mates quite as much as the other way around.
In the Honors Division enrollment (men and women), standing at eighteen in 1945, virtually doubled in the ensuing five years, along with a small quota of undergraduates and master's candidates who signed up for a single seminar. To acquaint prospective entrants with the working of the honors they were invited to attend seminar sessions.
Men released from the armed forces, a fair proportion of whom had commenced their collegiate training at Rochester, were responsible for the upsurge in registration shortly after hostilities ended. Except for those disabled in combat for whom the government made special provision, veterans benefited from the G.I. Bill which assured them of the costs of tuition and subsistence subsidies--$65 for single men and $90 for the married--slender enough in either case. Veterans formed approximately eighty percent of the undergraduates in 1946 and fifty-eight percent in 1948, but shrank to twenty-three percent in 1950. For certain purposes undergraduates were classified in three categories: veterans, men in the NROTC:, and "civilians." 17
It has earlier been pointed out that the University devised careful plans before the fighting stopped, to educate veterans. An office for veteran's affairs was set up in Dewey Hall, and a President's Advisory Council for Veterans contained two delegates from each division of the University in which men were enrolled.
Representative of the Rochester men who came back from the war was John M. ("Jack") Keil, who entered with the class of 1944, becoming a popular campus personality, and received his diploma in 1946. A bombardier-navigator out of a base in southern Italy, he was accorded many military distinctions. Comparing the college he knew before the war with the college after the conflict, Keil wrote, "In regard to studies, the majority of veterans who have returned to continue their interrupted college careers have found it difficult to concentrate on studying outside of the class room...The war-weary student is older, more mature, takes his studies more seriously...The ex-G.I. has found his courses more interesting. World history seems to come alive..." (This observation was wholly true for Keil himself, who in his last semester read omnivorously on Yugoslavia and Marshal Josip Tito for an independent course with the present writer.)
As for the veterans who were newcomers to the campus, Keil went on, "The going is undoubtedly harder for them than for one who has already had a sense of college life and knows what to expect. Scholastically speaking, the returned veteran seems to be making out all right, but in regard to extra-curricular activities it is a little different story.... The veteran looks at college as an academic gold mine...but his extracurricular college life is impaired by outside responsibilities, a lack. of unity in the " student body, and a resulting lack of spirit in activities..." It might have been mentioned that for many a veteran activities outside of classes and study consisted of feeding and changing the baby (or babies) or of a job to eke out the G.I. educational benefits and modest family allowance.
Measured by classroom performance, the veterans almost uniformly came off better than undergraduates who had not been in the national service and better than their prewar counterparts. A historian was heard to say that veterans kept him on his toes, because "Today, history is very real to the G.I. students...they have made history themselves..."18
When the student population turned downward, and faced with the prospect of further decline in the 1950's, a University spokesman dismissed as folly the proposal to open a college-level institution in Rochester, financed by the state; as an alternative it was countered that the state government should increase scholarship grants and permit the recipients to select the institution they preferred. Administrative officers devoted considerable thought to the optimum number of, undergraduates that might be trained on the River Campus without becoming so impersonal as to reduce the individual learner to irrelevance. It seems that Valentine held unwaveringly to an estimate of 1,000, but other policymakers thought in terms of as many as 1,250 with an entering class of around 365.
Ably led by Captain George C. T owner, commanding officer into 1948, the Naval Officers' Training Corps was established on firm foundations. At the outset the unit counted 362 trainees, mostly former V-12 men from the Rochester contingent, the remainder transfers from other colleges; as candidates completed their studies, enrollment shrank (1948) to 180 and, then stabilized at about 150. Instruction in naval science was cut from thirty-six to twenty-four hours, supplemented by weekly drill on Saturday morning and technical training on summer cruises, usually with a University officer or faculty member as a guest observer.
Student initiative produced (1947) a six-page mimeographed paper, Stand-By, which contained pointers for midshipmen, little essays, cartoons, jokes, an occasional book review, or "A Word from the Captain." (Apparently, the sheet hibernated from 1949 through 1951.) an NROTC club, originally called Bourrelot (part of an armor piercing projectile) arranged parties, dances, and a yearly "open house" at Harkness Hall. During an annual review, prizes provided through the Rochester Council, Navy League of the United States, were awarded for excellence in various phases of NROTC training.
Backed by Navy authorities in Washington, President Valentine assumed the initiative in forming an association of the presidents of institutions that had NROTC units; conferences were organized to encourage uniformity in conducting the work of the NROTC. 19
When the U.S. Air Force broached the question of establishing a reserve corps at Rochester, the administration, feeling that the NROTC was as much as could be handled properly, replied in the negative. Presently, however, the attitude changed, and, supported by overwhelmingly favorable polls of the college faculty and the undergraduates, application for a unit was made. Early in 1951, an AFROTC unit was officially authorized to commence operations in the autumn of that year; technical training would about equal that required of the NROTC. 20
Enrollment at the College for Women soared to a peak of 655 (658) in September of 1947, then declined to 570 three years later. Thanks to generous scholarship assistance, the proportion of Princesses from outside of metropolitan Rochester came to exceed half of all students as against an eighth just after the war. In spite of transportation hardships, an increasing number of women elected advanced courses on, the River Campus, especially in science. It was no novelty, though, for Valentine to lament, as lament he did, "This inter-campus teaching problem is one I have not been able to lick in fifteen years; indeed, it has nearly licked me." 21
The huge jump in registration at the University School, which used many of the Women's College buildings, provoked chronic complaints about congestion (and noise) in Sibley Library, in Cutler Union, and the book store; parking turned into an endless nightmare, especially when evening classes were in session. Student requests resulted in more illumination on the campus the overdue redecoration of Anderson Hall, and a new snack bar in Cutler Union--"cokes" a nickel and hamburgers fifteen cents.
To alleviate overcrowding in living quarters, Munro Hall was rearranged (1946) to take care of twenty-two more students; occupants assigned to fifth floor rooms were obliged to climb eighty-six steps to what they tagged "The Pant House." The possibility of quartering about ten "quiet, ladylike girls" in the Valentine home was examined, but discarded. Plans to erect new buildings at Prince Street were held up by the suggestion that a projected New York State Thruway might traverse University Avenue; trustees registered vigorous protests in Albany against that route.
More rather than less in line with the declining purchasing power of the dollar, the costs of a University education advanced. Tuition rates at the colleges, the Eastman School, and the University, and the Graduate Schools were raised by $100 in February, 1947, and by another $100 three years later, amounting then to $600; scholarship grants were correspondingly enlarged. Pro rata increases wore applied to part-time learners at the University and Graduate Schools; and the tuition fee for medical students was set at $600 beginning in September, 1947. Dormitory rent likewise increased; at the River Campus in 1951, for example, the price for a single room ranged from $140 to $175 a year; for a double from $110 to $135; quarters in the Stadium cost $100, and in the jerry-built "shacks"$85 for a double and $100 for a single. Prices of food kept rising along with other expenses. A student health fee of five dollars covered consultation with a college medical officer, medicine, and, if necessary, care at the Strong Memorial Hospital up to, the equivalent of eighty dollars. For the maintenance of the respective student unions and the support of extracurricular activities, men paid thirty dollars, women eighteen dollars (soon increased to thirty-five and twenty. For dwellers on the campus the average annual expenditure approximated $1,350 for men and $1,400 for women. 22
Collections at the Memorial Art Gallery consistently grew, and when purchases were under consideration fine arts professors on the University staff cooperated with Gallery officials. In 1950, the Gallery added several splendid items to its permanent resources: classical, medieval, and Renaissance treasures and, through the good offices of President Valentine, fourteen outstanding paintings from the Encyclopaedia Britannica collection representing important American art trends of the twentieth century. 23
While the Eastman House was being renovated for the Museum of Photography, the valuable paintings accumulated by George Eastman were shown. Community educational services during the winter months for adults and children expanded and were matched by a popular July vacation school. The Gallery staff shared in rehabilitation instruction at the, Veterans Hospital in nearby Canandaigua, and paintings were freely loaned to Rochester settlement houses, factory cafeterias, and the like. Since the maintenance of the Gallery depended heavily upon annual dues, it was heartening to all concerned that energetic solicitation boosted membership in 1948 to 2,560.
Not until June, 1947, were the traditional observances of Commencement weekend revived on their prewar pattern. If the Senior class party on Thursday is counted in, the festivity was a five-day affair. On Friday evening, fraternities held reunions and business meetings; Saturday was given over to class reunion luncheons, on both campuses or close by, sometimes the men of the Senior class staged jolly Class Day exercises in the afternoon climaxed by the planting of a sprig of ivy or a sapling and alumni reminisced near a refreshment tent on the Fraternity Quad and in the evening converged upon the Gymnasium for dinner, speechmaking, and awards to a professor and an alumnus for outstanding service to the University. A dance in the Palestra rounded off Graduates Day.
On Sunday afternoon, the Hopeman Chime pealed while an academic procession marched from the Rhees Library across the Eastman Quad to Strong Auditorium for a Baccalaureate Service, and sounded again at the end of the exercises. (If the weather was inclement, the procession streamed --and steamed--through the tunnels beneath the Campus.) Because of larger graduating classes, Strong Auditorium had to be reserved for them and their families exclusively and amplifiers carried the proceedings to guests congregated outside. Usually Valentine delivered the Baccalaureate message, but in his absence in the Netherlands in 1949 Professor Emeritus John R. Slater presented a warm, inspiring, characteristically beautiful address on "Human Dignity. " Following the service, graduates, their friends, and the faculties joined in a reception on the Quadrangle, the Women's Club of the University in charge.
In the evening, an alumnae Commencement dinner was held at Prince Street, customarily with an, honorary degree recipient as the principal speaker, for example, Lisa Meitner, Austrian-born mathematical wizard, upon whom the University conferred a doctorate in science for "the conquest of pure mind over pure matter." At the 1950 party the alumnae, faculty, and undergraduates of the College for Women presented retiring President Valentine with an oil portrait of himself painted by the Rochester artist, John C. Menihan, to be hung in Cutler Union; subsequently, the portrait was removed to the Eastman School. 24
On Monday morning, formal graduation ceremonies took place at the Eastman Theatre. 25 Since graduating groups had grown larger, it was necessary to limit severely the tickets for seats given to each graduating student, which caused protests, and even louder complaints were voiced because bachelor's candidates were not invited to the platform to receive their sheepskins. Counting diplomas to nurses, 771 men and women, both first and advanced degrees, graduated in 1948; but the next year 1,073 degrees and nursing diplomas were conferred, Valentine flying back from Europe to preside. For the Centennial class of 1950 the graduating groups totalled 1,115, a far cry indeed from the ten men sent into the world in 1851.
Of the graduating contingent that year, 144 had carried on their studies at the University School, compared with a mere seven in 1946. 1950 was the peak year for graduation of military veterans; of 390 male recipients of bachelor's diplomas, about 260 had performed military service and approximately one hundred were married; for the M.D.s, fifty-seven out of sixty-seven were veterans and thirty-three had families, and for the University Schools 108 were veterans and some seventy-six were married. Something more about the extraordinary Centennial Commencement will be related farther along.
Customarily, four or five honorary doctorates were bestowed each year; eyebrows were cocked in 1946 when for the first time (and the last) a popular personality in the sports world, Branch ("the Brain") Rickey, at the time president of the Brooklyn Dodgers baseball club, was honored, but the citation stressed that the doctorate recognized his commitment to social welfare and nothing more. In the evening of graduation day, honorary doctors foregathered with trustees, administrators, some professors and townsmen at the Valentine home.
So as to allow time for all graduating students to receive their diplomas on the platform, University officers considered reducing the number of honorary recognitions and, besides, restricting them to individuals who had "some relevance to the concerns of the University." Artist John C. Menihan was requested (1950) to design a more attractive, more artistic diploma, preferably one on which some kind of a stamp might be used instead of the time-consuming task of signing of each sheepskin by the chief executive officer. 26
Impressive--and long drawn out--commemorations celebrated the hundredth anniversary of the opening of the University. Observances were planned by a blue-ribbon committee (or set of them) drawn from all parts of the University complex and chaired by devoted and imaginative Trustee Ernest A. Paviour, 1910. 1950 was also the semi-centennial of the admission of women undergraduates, and a quarter century had sped by since the beginning of medical instruction. Contrasting with formal occasions were lightweight observances of an unofficial sort. The Centennial; started off auspiciously, with an all-University student convocation on October 5, 1949. at the Eastman Theatre. Professor Emeritus Slater sketched the high points in the evolution of the U. of R., reminding the audience that it had been a university in an exact sense for only a little while; yet no apologies for its comparative youth were in order. "The University closes no door to ambition," he said, "sets no age when minds cease to grow..." In, a ringing peroration, Slater saluted the establishment beside the Genesee as "a fountain of knowledge, a powerplant of energy, a treasury of culture; good perhaps for another hundred years."
With the Netherlands experience in the forefront of his mind, Valentine keyed his address to the urgency of better understanding of Europe and paid his disrespects to the "elaborate cerebrations of theoretical economists in Washington, three thousand miles from European actualities...Upon the university devolved the task,. he reasoned, "'to help find the answers" to crucial world questions.
For a Centennial students conference devoted to Human Rights, held on February 10 and 11, 1950, Valentine outlined the objectives in this way, "When the University was founded...our nation was attempting to live half slave, half free...the American dilemma of 1850 is now a problem involving...all peoples...Human rights still rest on freedom of person and the dignity of the human spirit...As the University looks ahead to its second century, these are questions appropriate for discussion...to the end that human rights may be appreciated, preserved, and expanded. " 27
Campus and Tower Times combined forces in publishing a conference edition of the newspapers, listing eighteen speakers and discussion leaders, almost all of them persons. of global reputation. Heading the galaxy of talent were Mrs. Franklin D. Roosevelt, Ralph J. Bunche, United Nations official and Nobel prizeman, General Walter Bedell Smith, former ambassador to the Soviet Union, John N. Hazard, Kremlinologist at the Russian Institute of Columbia University, Edwin G. Nourse, economist, and Patrick N. Malin of the American Civil Liberties Union. After mass meetings in Strong Auditorium or the Eastman Theatre, students, as. usual, gathered in fraternity houses to analyze and appraise what they had heard," newspapers all over America commented, on the conference. In recognition of the Centennial, moreover, the American branch of the Newcomen Society of England arranged a dinner on April 13, 1950, at which Valentine read a historical treatise on the University. 28
As part of the Centennial observance, which encouraged memories and invited prophecies, professors and administrators from the several components of the University contributed to a large and handsomely illustrated brochure entitled The University of Rochester -- The First Hundred Years. Trustee Chairman M. Herbert Eisenhart set out the current philosophy of the University in this language "...We seek to develop a comparatively small group of future leaders, rather than mass education for large numbers of graduates who have been merely exposed to education...The U. of R. must, however, continue to adapt its program...to changing conditions and needs...There are more goals to be met."
He cited as compelling needs "large additions to endowment...and expansion of the physical plant." The institution, he wrote, "will seek other ways to serve metropolitan Rochester...the roots of the University go deep in the local soil and its nourishment must always come in good measure from the interest and support of its local friends..."
Valentine in turn reminded readers that the first century was "only a beginning..." and suggested that the second hundred years might very well "dwarf the record of the first...which was one of growth from poverty to riches, from weakness to power, through initiative, bounty, and hard work..." It was felt by the trustees that it would be appropriate to conduct a memorial service at the grave of Martin B. And son in Mt. Hope cemetery and perhaps of Rush Rhees, too, but the idea was not implemented. 29
Vivifying the printed narrative on the University's past was a twenty-minute long color motion picture, "A Century Toward Tomorrow." The stated purpose of the film was to reproduce accurately the University saga and to capture its personality. The film swept across he aims both of the founding fathers and of 1950, the physical properties, curricular and extracurricular life, and the ties binding the University to metropolitan Rochester. Sponsors of the movie thought of not only as a dramatic interpretation, but likewise as a means of publicity serviceable in attracting students, and it was extensively shown.
The April Fool's edition of the Campus (imaginatively the best ever of its genre), playfully dated itself April 1, 1860. President Anderson was depicted withdrawing his resignation, a plan was afoot to provide an intercampus (!) horsecar, alumni congregated at notorious Rattlesnake Pete's grog shop, professors protested that regulations on hitching posts were grossly violated, and students complained that six cents were too steep for a lunch. Not to be outshone, the Quilting Club put on a burlesque extravaganza, May 11-13, 1950, "Here in Primitive Wilderness," which pictured the evolution of Oak Hill from an Indian encampment to cyclotron research; individual scenes recalled the first meeting of University classes, conditions after the Civil War, the advent of women students, Second World War veterans settling down to the books, the peculiarities of dormitory existence, and finally a quizzical "Quo Vadis."
Something would have been lacking had not an alumnus, James B. Forbes, 1899, contrived a "Centennial Song," doggerel in sentiment and sung to the tune of "The Erie Canal." The first verse read:
Here's to the College, we love so well
100 years on the Erie Canal
She's a god old College and good old pal
100 years on the Erie Canal.
She started out at the U.S. Hotel
Right on the bank of the Erie Canal
A College for Men so I've heard tell
50 years without a gal.
In the spirit of the year, the Rochester Museum of Arts and Sciences organized a splendid Centennial Exhibit--"Our University in the Making--" beginning with a lonely undergraduate reining up; his steed in front of the former United States Hotel and running along to contemporary University, achievements in music and scientific research. An "Interiors Then and Now" exhibit at the Memorial Art Gallery contained five rooms showing the contrast in home furnishings and decoration in 1850 and 1950. Rochester stores displayed diversified materials about the University in their windows, and the Eastman Kodak Company installed a colorama photograph of River Campus scenes in New York City's Grand Central terminal--"a touch of dandelion yellow for Gothamites," it was said. 30
Yet all this was peripheral to one of the main episodes of the Centennial, the Alumni-Alumnae Centennial Convocation at the Eastman Theatre on Saturday evening, June 10, 1950. Preceding the Convocation, graduates dined together at the Gymnasium field house; a giant birthday cake, fashioned as a replica of the Rhees Library Tower, formed the centerpiece on the head table. At the theatre a capacity audience heard the "Centennial Ode" for the first time; Howard Hanson composed and arranged the music, John R. Slater prepared the narrative, Leonard W. Treash of the Eastman School faculty performed as narrator, and Robert E. Waterstripe, 1949, baritone, sang solo parts. Participating, too, were the Eastman School Chorus of 200 voices and the Eastman School Senior Symphony Orchestra, Hanson conducting.
The "Ode," framed in Slater's choicest prose and poetry, magnificently remembered times past, the progress of the University, and painted to the challenge of the future--"...of promises fulfilled; of promises still unfulfilled, awaiting wider vision, stronger will"--all attuned to the historic motto, "Meliora." The old United States Hotel, Martin B. Anderson, the ordeal of the Civil War, the inauguration of Rush Rhees, the admission of women, the benefactions of George Eastman, the administration of Alan Valentine--each was evoked in a recital that concluded, "We have already higher education; but toward the highest education there is still a long way to go."
Hanson's music, ingeniously dramatizing the script, drew upon lusty Erie Canal chanties, Walt Whitman's dramatic. "Drum Taps, " the Battle Hymn of the Republic, the Slater Commencement Hymn, and familiar college airs, and closed with a mighty crescendo of chorus and orchestra in "God of Our Fathers." To the audience the "Ode" brought a tremendous emotional upsurge, expressing itself in a rousing ovation to Hanson and Slater, who, the victim of a knee injury, attended in a wheel chair. The "Ode," commented a Rochester editor, is as "ageless as a Greek chorus;" for the inspiration and edification of posterity it was placed on a long-playing twelve-inch record.
After the rendition of the "Ode," President Valentine alluded to the University as "still youthful in spirit, immature; still busy growing up;" and he decried concessions that had to be made "to meet the demands of mass education and public popularity." That said, he presented scrolls to thirteen Rochester graduates who had achieved distinction in their life callings; then the entire company united in singing "The Genesee."
In the Centennial Baccalaureate sermon, Howard Hanson urged upon his listeners the values accruing from a vital, personal religious faith. And at the Centennial graduation rites on June 12, Valentine delivered his valedictory message, "Time and the University," to the largest graduating class ever, dwelling on certain themes that; he subsequently elaborated in Trial Balance. Together with an expression of frank skepticism about prevailing methods of measuring the intellectual progress of students, he appealed to the University to combat excessive materialism and, the nation-wide decline in taste, private manners and public morals. Institutions of higher learning were sharply reproached for failing "to meet their intellectual and moral challenge;" it was their solemn duty to weave into the lives of their sons and daughters "idealism; truth--and the courage to assert them." Freedom, Valentine contended, was inseparable from responsibility.
Although the President wished confer honorary degrees upon Queen Juliana and Prince Bernhard of the Netherlands at the Centennial Commencement, they were unable to be present. But a set of internationally distinguished persons was honored, Dean George H. Whipple among them; when conferring the doctorate on Whipple, the retiring President remarked that he could ask for no finer conclusion to his Rochester career. 31
The following fall a Community convocation, a combined service with the Colgate-Rochester Divinity School, and an all-University student convocation brought the Centennial festivities to a close. To lend an appropriate touch of authenticity to these events, the Campus sponsored a beard contest, offering prizes for the most luxuriant hirsute adornment; entries ranged from the "Abe Lincoln style to shipwrecked sailor types." A century-old shaving mug was awarded to the winner and three runners-up got mugs of latter-day vintage.
On November 4,1950, at the community convocation in the Eastman Theatre, an overflow audience sang the national anthem, listened to a warm welcoming address by Trustee Joseph C. Wilson, 1931, who explained that the gathering was designed better to acquaint metropolitan Rochester with the University, and watched the motion picture, "A Century Toward Tomorrow." Provost Gilbert presiding, Deans Hoffmeister, Whipple, and Mills (of the University School), and Director Hanson spoke about the shape of things to come, "The University Entering its Second Century." While Hoffmeister called for more attention in teaching to internationalism at the expense of egotistical nationalism, Hanson insisted that .musicians should be active forces in the life of their communities, Mills referred to education as a lifelong process, and Whipple, after tracing the history of the Medical Center, appealed for more research, "the lifeblood of the School."
Memorable as the occasion was it was rendered the more so by the first public appearance in Rochester of Cornelis W. de Kiewiet, a matter of days after his election as president of the University. Every university, he declared, shouldered three weighty obligations: the pursuit of knowledge for its own sake; the application of knowledge to improve man's material environment; and the cultivation of the individual "as a spiritual and moral being." With all its might, the University must fight against cynicism, resignation, despair," he asserted. Performance of the "Centennial Ode" rounded out the proceedings. From all over the United States scores of messages of congratulation on a hundred years of achievement poured into the administrative offices.
It was gratifying, too, at this high point in the life of the developing University, that Rochester should have been chosen as the site of the annual deliberations of the Association of American Universities and the Association of Graduate Schools on October 26 and 27. If there was single jarring note, it was sounded only on the Oberlin College gridiron where the Rivermen went down to defeat, 13 to 7, the son of Rochester Coach Elmer Burnham scoring twice for the Ohio eleven.
On Sunday, November 5, 1950, exactly, a century since instruction commenced in the former United States Hotel, the University and the Colgate Rochester Divinity School jointly commemorated their founding at a meeting in Strong Auditorium devoted to religion and higher education. Choral music was presented by glee clubs, 150 strong, from both institutions, John R. Slater defined true religion as "facing the worst and hoping for the best, knowing that we shall not live to see it," and pleaded for reverence before the unknown. The church historian at the Divinity School, Winthrop S. Hudson, remarked upon the fostering care Christian societies had given to early American academic enterprises and the president of the Divinity School, Wilbour E. Saunders, predicted intensified competition for private institutions of higher learning from tax-supported schools at various levels.
For the final episode of the Centennial, an all-University, student convocation at the Eastman Theatre on the morning of November 6, classes were suspended. Matching the bearded male under graduates, selected women students dressed in costumes popular at the mid-nineteenth century. Once more the "Centennial Ode" was heard, the motion picture on the University seen, and Professor Dexter Perkins briefly reviewed U. of R. history and challenged the audience "to make the University live through deepened loyalty of its graduates." 32
Like other segments of the University enterprise, alumni and alumnae. organizations rapidly revived activities that had been in abeyance while the war was on. For this achievement high credit belonged to Peter J. Prozeller, 1937, executive secretary of the Associated Alumni (embracing all male graduates regardless of the division), and Janet Phillips Forbes, 1940, who directed the alumnae office (with responsibility for all women graduates) until assuming the duties of assistant director of admissions in 1950.
Council meetings, publications, homecoming and Commencement weekend parties fund-raising campaigns, a few regional clubs--all testified to the vitality of the postwar alumni and alumnae groups. Graduates in metropolitan Rochester began in 1948 the custom of a dinner meeting for both sexes, and that year the alumnae association sponsored a musical at Kilbourn Hall to which alumnae of all branches of the University were invited. Toward the end of the Valentine era the graduate associations of the Music, Medical, and Nursing Schools were revitalized; and an University School alumni association was formed. All told, six associations carried on their functions .more or less independently of the others, an arrangement which left something to be desired.
When appealing to the graduates for financial .support, Valentine also asked them to send along names of potential donors, and to correct, as opportunity afforded, the erroneous impression that the University had no need of additional resources. Class agents were appointed to carry on fund-raising efforts and, as a rule, the money collected was assigned to scholarships or to adjustments in faculty compensation. In 1947, for instance, the contributions were used to establish memorial scholarships in tribute to the Rochester men who had lost their lives in the Second World War. The letterhead of the 1948 appeal carried a picture of the Elmwood Avenue heating plant with the observation that the mounting cost of coal during the previous year equaled the salaries of seven faculty members! Response to the annual fund-raising drives was heartening, but would have been even more so if a higher proportion of the approximately 12,000 (1950) men and women on the official, (but incomplete) rolls had contributed. Beginning in 1951 a Rush Rhees Memorial Trophy was awarded to the; college or school of the University which scored the largest annual gain in raising funds. From a level just under $20,000 in 1947, annual giving rose to $42,500 at the time of the Centennial; meanwhile the alumnae kept busily; accumulating money for a swimming pool at Prince Street.
To keep green the achievements of Susan; B. Anthony, the Alumnae Association combined (1946) with undergraduate women in celebrating the birthday--February 15--of their patron saint. Initially known as "Founders Day," it was designated Susan B. Anthony Day in 1947, and the program took on a complexion that developed into a prized tradition. After luncheon., the women listened to an address by a spokesman of their sex and then applauded the award of silver trays to an alumna who was a vital force in the community and to a Senior student who had contributed significantly to undergraduate life. Named the Fanny R. (Mrs. Lewis) Bigelow awards in memory of a Rochester ally of Susan B. and endowed by her relatives, the first recipients of the trays were Margaret Neary Bakker, 1913, and Charlotte Woods Elkind, 1947. Alumnae Council meetings convened on the same day. On their side, the alumni set up awards for star athletes and worked to enhance the quality of inter-collegiate sports by various stratagems.
At the request of the alumni, the trustees created (1950) a panel of their members as a direct channel of communication with graduates. This "Trustee-Alumni Liaison Committee" appointed sub-committees to cooperate in undergraduate vocational guidance and job placement and to enlist graduates in acquainting prospective benefactors with the financial needs of the University. Beyond that, the trustees agreed to study a plan whereby "representatives of the alumni and alumnae may be elected, to membership on the Board of Trustees by the University's graduates." It may be recalled that alumni (though not the ladies) had exercised that privilege early in the twentieth century. 33
Shortly before the Centennial, the idea of publishing a new edition of the graduate register--none had been printed since 1928--came under discussion, but, unluckily, the decision was in the negative owing to what was regarded as the excessive expense. Instead, the executive secretaries of the graduate associations were instructed to prepare and keep up to date full biographical files on graduates. 34
Alumnus Bruce M. Lansdale, 1946 (with his wife, Elizabeth Krihak Lansdale, 1947, at his side), attracted international recognition as director of the American Farm School at Salonica, Greece. Frank J. Dowd, Jr., 1948, who served in several administrative capacities at the U. of R., became vice- president of Lincoln University, but came back to Alma Mater in 1968 as dean of the University School; returning with him was his classmate, Raymond J. Murphy, a sociologist expert in race relations, co-editor of Problems and Prospects of the Negro Movement (1966) and co-author of The Structure of Discontent (1967). Marcus G. Battle, 1948, advanced to the office of deputy director of the Neighborhood Youth Corps; a fourth member of the class, Robert G. Sutton, joined the University geology department in 1954, specializing in paleozoic stratigraphy and sedimentology. Morton Keller, 1950, a historian, eventually at Brandeis University, won early acclaim by books on In Defense of Yesterday (1958), Theodore Roosevelt (1967), The Art and Politics of Thomas Nast (1968), and other works.
A medical missionary in India, Virginia Van Geyt Clapp, 1946, stood out among the alumnae of her generation, as did Dorothy D. Aeschliman, 1948, who earned a bachelor's and, a nursing degree at the University and became chief nurse of the hospital vessel S.S. Hope, traveling to South America, Asia, and Africa on errands.of medical mercy. "People to people is the best way to build understanding in the world," she explained: "That's what Project HOPE is all about." Two-product s of the Graduate School in physics who attained national distinction in their profession were Conrad L. Longmire, 1948, winner of many, prizes and grants for researches on nuclear physics and the energy source of weapons and rockets, and Warren B. Cheston, 1951, who, on the heels of a career as a teacher and scientific counselor, was appointed dean of the University of Minnesota Institute of Technology. 35
Footnotes for Chapter 33
- Donald W, Gilbert to Cornelis W. de Kiewiet, February 27, 1953. de Kiewiet Papers.
- RAR, XXV (1946), no. 1, 14. Ibid. X (1949), no. 4, 3. The Rochester Indicator, XVI (1949), 11 ff.
- Trustee Records, IX, January 31, 1948. RAR, X (1949), no. 4, 3. John H. Mason, 1950, "The New Chemistry Wing," The Rochester Indicator, XVII (1950), 14-15.
- Lester O. Wilder, to Robert F. Metzdorf, November 5, 1946. Metzdorf to Wilder, March 21, April 15, 1948. Metzdorf Papers. Rhees Library Archives.
- Trustee Records, IX, June 8, 1946.
- Trustee Records, IX, June 14, 1947.
- Alan Valentine to Joseph C. Wilson, April 8, 1950. Valentine Papers. The Rochester Indicator, XVIII (1951), 17 ff.
- Almost all of the "Madison" freshmen subsequently continued their studies at the River Campus; RAR, XXIII (1946), no. 9, 19.
- Alan Valentine to Weldon F. Crossland, August 5, 1942. Valentine Papers. Earl B. Taylor to Valentine, January 15, 1944. Ibid. Oscar W. Solbert to Valentine, January 15, April 3, 1946. Ibid. Valentine to Solbert, April 17, 1946. Ibid.
- Trustee Records, IX, October 15, 1946, June 14, 1947. Executive Committee Minutes, XI, April 7, 1947. R T-U, June 19, 1947. RAR, XXV (1947), no. 5, 13. Ibid., XXVI;; (1948), no. 3, 9. New York Times, June 20, 1947. A proposal to place the projected museum under the management of the Rochester Museum of Arts and Sciences was rejected. Howard A. Sauer to Charles F. Hutchison (copy), June 5, 1945. Valentine Papers.
- Alan Valentine to Raymond N, Ball, March 1, June 20 (?) 1947. Valentine Papers. RAR, XXVI (1948), no. 3, 9.
- Executive Committee Minutes, XI, September 26, 1947. Alan Valentine to James S. Watson, June 27, 1947. Valentine Papers. Memorandum, Valentine conversation with Watson, June 30, 1947. Ibid. Trustee Records, X, June 10, 1950, June 9, 1951.
- James W. Wadsworth to Alan Valentine, July 12, 1943. Valentine Papers. Valentine to William H. Seward, 3rd., September 27, 1949. Ibid., RAR, XII (1951), no. 3, 5-6. Professor Glyndon G. Van Deusen, who was instrumental in securing the Seward papers, made full, use of them in writing William Henry Seward, the authoritative biography, published in 1967.
- John R. Russell, "Coffee Hours in a College Library," Wilson Library Bulletin, XXII (1947-48), 326-327.
- As usual, statistics in different sources at different points in the academic year vary somewhat. See, Charles F. Cole to John F. Andrews, October 7,1947. Public Relations file. Rhees Library Archives. New York Times, November 11, 1945.
- RAR, XXVII (1948), no. 1, 1. Ibid., X (1949), no. 5, 18. (A change in numbering of RAR began with the December 1948-January 1949 issue.)
- Faculty Minutes, October 12, 1950. During 1945-1946 about fifty males continued to study at the College for Women.
- John M Keil, 1944, "The Veteran Looks at College," RAR, XXIII (1946) no. 7, 12-13. Ibid., XXIII, no. 6, 4. R D&C, July 8,: 1946. For the way of life of the married undergraduate, see, "Reflections of a Campus Student, " Campus, LXXI, March 14, 1947.
- Alan Valentine to the heads of fifty-two NROTC colleges and universities, March 2, 1946. Valentine Papers.
- Donald W. Gilbert to George F. Stratemeyer, April 18, 1949. Valentine Papers. Faculty Minutes, March 1, 1951. Gilbert to Thomas Finletter, April 24, 1951. de Kiewiet Papers. Campus, LXXVIII, April 27, 1951. Trustee Records, June 9, 1951.
- Alan Valentine, to W. Albert Noyes, Jr. March 25, 1950. Valentine Papers.
- Trustee Records, IX, June 8, 1946. Executive Committee Minutes, May 10, 1949.
- Alan Valentine to William Benton and vice versa, November 28 , 1949- June 14, 1950. Valentine Papers.
- RAR, X (1949), no. 5, 1-3. Ibid., XI (1950), no. 5, 13.
- Into 1948, the Medical School had separate graduating exercises.
- Alan Valentine to John C. Menihan, June 1, 1950. Gilbert Papers.
- Trustee Records, X, June 18, 1949. Campus, LXXVII, September 30, 1949. R D&C, October 6, 1949. RAR, XI (1949), no. 1, 1. Ibid., XI (1950), no. 3, 6-7.
- R D&C, February 10, 11, 1950.
- The University of Rochester--The First Hundred Years, RAR, Centennial issue (1950), 91-93. Executive Committee Minutes, October 16, 1950. For a highly personal, unflattering portrait of the Rochester community at the time of the Centennial with glimpses of the University, see, Stanley V. Levey, 1937, "Rochester, New York," Saturday Evening Post, CCXXII, March 18, 1950, 38 ff.
- Interpres, Class of 1951 (1950). RAR, XI (1950), no. 5, 12. Ibid. XII (1950), no. 1, 18.
- R D&C, June 10-13, 1950.
- R D&C, November 4-7, 1950. New York Times, November 5, 1950. RAR, XII (1950), no. 1, 1-2.
- Arthur L. Stern, "Agreement re Fannie R. Bigelow Memorial Awards," February 11, 1947. Valentine Papers. Trustee Records, X, February 4, November 4, 1950.
- Alan Valentine to John R. Slater, March 2, 1948. Valentine Papers.
- AAR, XXV (1962), no. 1, 20 (Lansdale). R T-U, April 8, 1968 (Dowd). Campus-Times, XIV, May 3, 1968 (Murphy). See, Mark (Marcus G.) Battle, "The White Man Can't Help the Black Ghetto," RAR, XXVIII (1966), no. 4, 18-21, reprinted from The Saturday Evening Post. Miami News, February 9, 1967 (Aeschliman). R T-U, January 16, 1968 (Cheston).