Chapter 38: Undergraduate Life Beside the Genesee

After World War II, that part of collegiate education which lies outside classroom, library, and laboratory rapidly regained its traditional character and scope, despite sometimes fragmentary participation by the returning veteran. A renewed Spring Weekend brought a spate of activity, with games, sometimes a water show, dances, and worship at college chapel. After a lapse of five years the traditional pre-Christmas Boar's Head Dinner was roused from its wartime hibernation, Dad's Day, including luncheon at Todd and a football game, was revived, and a "Night of Sin" with all manner of gambling devices (played with imitation money) initiated. Todd Union committees arranged coffee hours and suppers, along with the management of union affairs in general. 1

To provide needed respite before the onset of final examinations, Dandelion festivities in 1951 were expanded into an annual Dandelion Day--usually the first Wednesday in May. In the form it possessed in 1954 (the first coeducational Dandelion Day), the student holiday was marked by suspension of classes, an awards assembly at Strong, an NROTC review on the Eastman Quadrangle, and a box lunch on the Todd lawn or in Genesee Valley Park. In the afternoon a Frosh-Soph tug-of-war was staged--the "battle of Red Creek"--and intercollegiate baseball and tennis matches, followed by a banquet (the one event women did not attend) at which more awards, alumni trophies to stellar athletes and "R" blankets to those holding letters in three sports, and Terry and Dutton prizes to Senior campus leaders were given out. An interfraternity song contest and a Dandelion Dance at the Palestra, for which Prince Street girls were given twelve o'clock permission, brought the day to a glorious conclusion. Later years brought a "push-cart derby," canoe races on the Genesee, faculty-student baseball games, a "color girl" (1957) at the annual military review, street dances in front of Todd, and intersorority as well as interfraternity song fests.

The sometimes hazardous Frosh-Soph flag rush reappeared; in the fall of 1951 Freshmen scored an upset, their first victory in many years (and only the fifth in half a century). In delayed retaliation two years later, eighteen hapless freshmen were "taken for a ride" and deposited late at night at varying distances from the campus, to return as best they might. By the autumn of 1955, however, student opinion was beginning to frown on hazing; columns in the Campus urged "less terror" on the part of Chi Rho, the sophomore group most active against "errant frosh," and rules governing the flag rush were revised. Four years later, the student newspaper reported freshman hazing virtually non-existent. In 1961 the flag rush was mercifully removed from the Eastman Quadrangle, and the sight of all, to the baseball diamond. There two greased poles were erected, pennants on top, and the arsenal on both sides became more imaginative, more horrific (animal intestines, rotten tomatoes, fuel oil in plastic bags). Despite the usual defeat of the freshmen that year, the rule that they must wear beanies until Thanksgiving was done away with.

With the advent of spring, youthful exuberance tended to overflow into pranks and fracases of one sort or another. During a rambunctious outbreak of animal spirits in 1953, a false alarm was turned in. Firemen, arriving on campus, had their hose seized by the rampaging students. A young administrator, attempting to retrieve it, was mistaken for an undergraduate and thoroughly doused; resulting student sympathy for his plight was an aid in quelling the melee. The next spring several false alarms were pulled, bringing to the campus virtually all the firefighting equipment in the southern section of the city. Blockaded by student cars, the fire trucks could neither withdraw nor emergency vehicles get through--a potentially dangerous situation later roundly condemned by students and public alike, and the Students Association set up a special faculty-student judiciary committee to take appropriate disciplinary action. With the arrival of women students on the River in 1955, somewhat more gentlemanly behavior prevailed, though in 1961 and 1962 intercollegiately-prevalent "panty raids" were staged, and the Anderson statue and the sphinxes behind Morey were periodically smeared with paint. 2

To invigorate corporate feeling, the constitution of the Students Association of the College for Men was twice drastically revised (1947, 1950), and a Senate set up, comprising the officers of the Students Association, the vice president and three other men of each class, and the chairmen of committees. It took charge of the college social calendar, worked out (1951) a plan to evaluate the effectiveness of teachers, and pressed to have the Rhees Library opened longer each day (a goal achieved in 1955). To eliminate jurisdictional disputes and overlapping of functions, the Board of Control was wholly detached from the Students Association; on the Board were seven students, three men each from the faculty and the administration, and an alumnus--in 1951 a second graduate was added. In 1950, expenditures having nearly doubled (the budget was over $60,000, compared with $35,000 in the last years before the war), for the first time since the opening of the River Campus the student activity fee was raised, and again more. precipitously in 1952. For key undergraduate leaders in non-athletic activities, the Board created (1950) a certificate of merit, which it was hoped would attain prestige equal to awards bestowed on athletes.

Though the glee club reappeared in 1946, five years passed before it was equal to a full concert season. In the interval, membership regained the prewar level (sixty-five), a Christmas concert was presented jointly with the glee club at the College for Women, biweekly broadcasts were given on radio and a debut made (1950) on television. In 1952 an intercollegiate glee club festival was staged, the U. of R. playing host to groups from Colgate, Syracuse, and Toronto, and the repertoire was varied by the addition of a light-hearted quartette, "The Meliora Kids." Women's glee club members gave concerts at the Memorial Art Gallery and in 1953 entertained hardworking canvassers at Development Fund dinners. A marching band to perform at football and basketball games was re-formed, composed entirely of River Campus students; in 1954 a Prince Street Princess was enlisted as drum majorette, and handsome new blazers were provided as uniforms by the Students Association.

The Stagers dramatic group resumed its twice a year schedule, ambitiously performing Ibsen's "Hedda Gabler" (1946) and Giraudoux's satirical comedy, "The Madwoman of Chailot" (1950). Jean Anouihl's "Ring Around the Moon" and William Inge's "Playboy of the Western World" followed, and in 1954 Ibsen's "Peer Gynt," hailed as "a new high in cultural achievement," contained a cast of over a hundred students, alumni, and faculty, recruited from all divisions of the University. The Quilting Club, revived by V-12ers, was back in full swing by 1947 with "That Grecian Yearn," followed in ensuing years by "MidEvil Manor" and "Harem Scarem," which had a three-day run. Pleasing box office receipts enabled the club to turn over a sizeable check for a scholarship in memory of a former member.

A 1953 survey indicates greater student participation in Quilting Club than in any other extracurricular activity (a statistic which may merely reflect musical comedy's need for supernumeraries). Q-Club's stepchild, LUGDIS (Little Upper Gutter Dramatic Intensio Society), presented skits at smokers and dances and at Dandelion dinners. Seniors from both campuses 3 collaborated in the production of an annual musical variety show. 3

All manner of undergraduate clubs were reactivated. The Public Affairs Forum faced a new rival in the Student Progressives, devoted to social and political action as expressed at the time by Henry A. Wallace. Later, a United Nations Student Association was formed and an All-University Student Forum was set up with student speakers discussing topics of national and international importance. Official Dewey and Davis prize speaking contests continued to attract eager competitors. The Outing Club revived its weekend ski trips to the Adirondacks and in 1951 acquired a cabin in the Bristol Hills south of Rochester, easily accessible to its increasing membership (fifty-six in 1952). A Flying Club, a Radio Club, even a Contract Bridge Club, all had their devotees and the Geneseeans, composed of men without fraternity affiliations, resurrected in 1946, became one of the most dynamic groups on the campus; among other things, it adopted a European war orphan and staged an annual Easter egg hunt for faculty children. First of the men's campus organizations to go coeducational, in 1954 it opened its membership ranks to women from Prince Street, the Eastman School, and Helen Wood Hall. "Scalp and Blade," which had branches on more than a dozen campuses, was restricted to men coming from Erie County (Buffalo).

Curricular clubs, mostly prewar in antecedents but some new, took their places in the undergraduate way of life: Forbes in philosophy, Delta Rho in journalism, Dodge in biology, and Morey for able freshmen in the civilization course; Forensic, History, Photographic (later Lens and Shutter), and a Psychology club; Astronomy, Education, Electrical Engineering, and Mathematics clubs; and a Premedical club, and Bourrelet (later Anchor and Chain) in naval science. Class societies--the Keideans, the Mendicants, and Yellow Key--experienced a rebirth and performed yeoman service at major University occasions.

Without a break, the honorary societies for scholarship--Phi Beta Kappa and Sigma Xi--held elections, initiated candidates, and presented lectures. Frequently the former invited a speaker of national reputation to address the initiates and members, and the custom of giving keys to initiates by the Students Association was perpetuated. In addition to its usual professional lectures, Sigma Xi sponsored a junior science lecture each year on Washington's Birthday; in 1949 a tour of the biological laboratories and a demonstration of the new cyclotron drew an audience of nearly 500 juniors. A third honorary fraternity was added in 1947, when a chapter of Tau Beta Pi, national engineering society, was chartered. Founded in 1885 as the counterpart in engineering to Phi Beta Kappa, the society restricted election to membership to the upper eighth of the Junior class and the upper fifth of the Seniors; in choosing members, general attainment as well as academic standing were taken into account. For years the Rochester Vectorians had followed these principles, so affiliation with the national organization was easy and natural; President Valentine greatly disliked the restriction of membership to men only. It was estimated that 400 members of Tau Beta Pi resided in metropolitan Rochester. A mysterious chapter of the national fraternity in general science, Gamma Sigma, seems to have died soon after it appeared in the spring of 1946. 4

A Student Christian Association, formed in 1946, conducted the coeducational "Campions" Sunday evening forum, despatched delegations to speak in churches in the metropolitan Rochester area, operated an interracial youth center and carried on other inner-city welfare projects, and promoted annual appeals for the World Student Service Fund. A. Campus Chest, authorized by the Students Association in 1952 and continued yearly thereafter, raised money for diverse good causes. On the Prince Street campus the "Y" conducted World Student Service drives, dispatched "Care" packages to European orphanages, and adopted a school in Bavaria, supplying it with books and clothing. A branch of the National Association for Colored People was formed in 1950.

What eventually was called the University Protestant Chapel, begun by enterprising V- 12ers in the summer of 1946, held worship services on Sunday morning in Strong Auditorium; buses furnished transportation for Prince Street and Eastman School students. So that veterans with families might attend, a child care service was introduced, soon supplemented by a Sunday School; after the morning worship coffee was served during a "fellowship hour," and once a year the service was held out of doors and followed by a picnic. Policy decisions were made by a cabinet, meeting monthly and composed of twelve undergraduates, two faculty advisers, the chaplain and his assistant (as a rule, a Colgate-Rochester student); weekly bulletins on the plans of the chapel were published. Strong pleas, without immediate effect, were addressed to the trustees to build a chapel for religious devotions; wrongly, it was imagined that George Eastman had opposed a place of worship when the River Campus was being constructed.

A Christian Science organization was founded (1949) to serve the interests of students of that faith; a student leader conducted biweekly testimonial meetings, and a lending library and a lecture program were sponsored. "Bible literalists," an evangelical group calling themselves the Inter-Varsity Christian Fellowship, eagerly sought to win converts; one adherent tacked a scriptural verse to the door of his dormitory room, which inspired a rash of parodies on other doors.

The well-established Newman Club, much bigger than before the war, functioned as "the Catholic Church on the Campus.'' A Jewish Cultural Group, formed in 1947 to cultivate the values of that faith, grew (1948) into a unit of the Hillel Foundation, which had branches in over 180 colleges; Supported in part by the B'nai B'rith organization, Hillel aimed to strengthen the religious and cultural heritage of Judaism and to assist students in adjusting to the college environment. Subject to approval by the University officers, a young rabbi served as counselor to Hillel, which drew members not only from the University, but also from the Rochester Institute of Technology and the Rochester Business Institute.

A loose Interfaith Council was created, which each year sponsored a campus conference on religion. A faculty "consultation on religion" was conducted (1947) by Willard L. Sperry, dean of the Harvard Divinity School, and in cooperation with Colgate-Rochester and the Jewish Theological Seminary, students from both campuses participated in a conference at Cutler on "Modern Man and Moral Maturity" (1951).

Rather curiously, undergraduates, whose aversion to regular college assemblies reached the point where they slipped into oblivion, packed meeting places to listen to eminent scholars or well-known public personalities. Among the scientists who lectured at Rochester in the decade following the war were the Britons John B.S. Haldane, biologist, Frederic K.C. Steward, visiting professor of botany, and Sir Lawrence Bragg, physicist (his wife, former mayor of Cambridge, spoke to the women at Cutler Union); H.R. Wei, physicist from Nanking University, Hans Cloos, West German geologist, Kazimierz Kuratowski, Polish mathematician, and Italo-American Enrico Fermi, co-designer of the atomic bomb; along with Americans David E. Lilienthal and Sumner Pike of the Atomic Energy Commission and, to a second generation of U. of R. students, physicist J. Robert Oppenheimer.

Distinguished scholars who appeared before University audiences included literary critic Kemp Malone of Johns Hopkins; political scientists William Y. Elliott of Harvard, Arnold Wolfers of Yale, and Quincy Wright of Chicago; anthropologists Clyde Kluckhorn of Harvard and Margaret Mead; historians Henry Steele Commager, Arthur Schlesinger, Jr., and Arnold Whitridge, and Princeton economist Jacob Viner; and three philosophers, Arthur E. Murphy, Cornell, a campus favorite, Warner A; Wick, Chicago, and Lucius Garvin, Oberlin.

More popular in character were addresses on current issues by Sherwood Eddy, Y.M.C.A. secretary, Paul Dengler of Vienna. Ernst Jackh, a German refugee, and newly-installed president of Hobart College, Alan W. Brown. Former Vice-President Henry A. Wallace, seeking election to the White House on a "progressive" platform, Herbert H. Lehman and John Foster Dulles, rivals for a seat in the United States Senate, Congressman James S. Wadsworth, ex-Congressman Thomas H. Smith, Robert N. Denham of the National Labor Relations Board, Benjamin A. Cohn of the United Nations, Lillian M. Gilbreth, consulting engineer, and Eleanor Roosevelt, untiring crusader for good causes--all shared their convictions on public questions with University groups.

By means of convocations at the two colleges in 1949, spokesmen of the administration and of the undergraduates attempted to analyze that intangible something called college spirit and to kindle deeper individual attachment to the University. Classes were dismissed for the affairs and attendance was impressive. 5 For sheer educational value, however, the convocations were easily eclipsed by major conferences such as a two day occasion on the Humanities held in March of 1947. Its primary purposes were, in Valentine's language, "the emphatic affirmation of the importance of humane values in learning and in life--[and] education in value judgments--to balance the possible inhumanities that may come from science's Pandora's box." Representatives from nearly thirty colleges and universities attended, as did many U. of R. graduates and Rochesterians. Capacity audiences heard John H. Randall, Jr., Columbia philosopher, Howard Mumford Jones and John M.D. Bush, professors of English literature at Harvard, Ralph H. Gabriel, Yale historian, F. Cyril James, political economist at McGill, Erwin Panofsky, art historian at the Institute of Advanced Study, and Bernard Rogers of the Eastman School faculty.

Professor Jones probably stirred the students most deeply, asserting that humane studies had not contributed as much as the scientists to world peace and tolerance. But speakers generally agreed that the humanities must somehow put an end to the cultural and ideological conflicts that bred violent tensions and hatreds. Addresses were followed by discussions, ably led by guests, at fraternity houses and other points on the campus, and they in turn were followed by student "bull sessions" lasting deep into the night. 6

On a less massive scale, though scarcely less intellectually rewarding, were conferences and accompanying discussions under the timely titles of "Society in the Atomic Age," "The Student Faces World Crisis," and "Man's Loyalties and the American Ideal." All were designed to help students puzzle out current confusions and uncertainties regarding national policies and goals. In 1948-1949, the English department arranged a series of four conferences on American literature a grossly neglected discipline in the world of learning; conferences on the novel followed in later years. A series of three lectures on "Canada, Rising World Power" early in 1952 by representatives of the Canadian government and press presaged the establishment of the University's Canadian Studies program two years later.


If Rip Van Winkle had fallen asleep just before the Second World War and awakened late in the 1940's, he would not have found the Campus much different. Normally it contained eight pages, rising to twelve on the eve of student elections, falling to four, or even omitting an issue when the treasury was in bad shape; frequently newsprint was flimsy. Ordinarily sports and occupied a quarter of the pages, "news" was monotonously repeated and now and then an original cartoon on "Professor Dingle" brightened a page, but more often cartoons were syndicated stuff. Revenues derived from subsidies by the Board of Control and from advertisements, which in a typical issue included notices from restaurants serving at lower prices than Todd Union, a big display ad on cigarettes, small ones on chewing gum, flowers, clothing, a hotel, bowling alleys, athletic goods, and Bell Telephone.

Columns and columnists had their day and ceased to be. The wartime "Regimental Review" yielded to the "Riverrat Review," "Madison Ramblings" reported on happenings at the "Annex," the "Riverrat" served up snippets of humor, "Poet's Nook" afforded an outlet for versifiers and "Score on Music" for music critics, and "Skeptic's Corner" served as a glorified student bull session. Best of all were "As We See It," or "Frankly Speaking," or "Sounding Board,'' in which the columnist set forth his interpretation of topical national and international questions; from the Netherlands, Valentine sent an informative account of the situation and his work there. Most boring was a long-lived section, "With the Greeks," recounting the doings of the fraternities. Discontinued in 1960, after a furious controversy it was reinstated in reduced form as "Fraternity Social News."

Annual issues on or near April first were invariably satirical and sometimes amusing. Presciently, the 1949 edition prophesied the removal of the coeds to the River Campus, reported trustee approval of University crew, and an appropriation of two million to finance autumn sports; in 1951 General Douglas MacArthur, recently relieved of command in the Far East, was chosen president of the University, having picked Rochester as an ideal place in which an old soldier could fade away.

In 1950, U. of R. played host to an annual scholastic editors conference, and the Associated College Press rated the Campus "excellent." The next year Interpres was similarly honored. t the end of the decade, it should be pointed out, Middle States examiners disagreed with this "peer group" judgment; student publications were deemed below the level to be expected in an institution of the stature of the U. of R. 7

In the main, general news published in the women's Tower Times (a sketch of Cutler Union tower was on its masthead) duplicated what appeared in the Campus. Columnists, sprightly sometimes, expressed themselves under such captions as "World News," "Scanning the Arts," "Pro and Con," and "Typeworm." Student opinion had an outlet in responses to a "Question of the Week," and teachers contributed to a faculty forum. Cartoons on topical issues appeared and humorous numbers bore names like "The News Comicale" or "The Crampus" (1949), the latter a rollicking take-off on the Campus printed on pink paper; in the spirit of the season pre-Christmas issues were printed in red or green ink.

As a swan-song for its long career as newspaper of the College for Men, the 1954 April fool issue of the Campus was not a parody but simply a compilation of news. Items culled from its eighty-two years of publication, many humorous to students of the mid-fifties (a 1922 release, for example, on plans to move the college to a golf course south of town, or a World War I sports headline--"UR-NYU Tussle Seen in Madison Square Garden"). The only things remaining constant over the years, the editor pointed out, were columns lamenting student apathy and the papers name--and now the latter was to change. Staffs of the Campus and the Tower Times, looking ahead to the consolidation of the two colleges, had worked throughout the year on plans for a joint newspaper, and in the spring elected from their number a woman, Sarah Miles Watts, 1956, to be editor-in-chief of the new journal.

The resulting Campus-Times, with headquarters for its editorial staff in Todd, was published twice weekly and was of the same format--four, sometimes eight pages--as its parents. Space allocated to sports was undiminished, and special issues were devoted to student government and related activities. Well-filled letter columns provided a sounding board for problems of the enlarged student body, problems the 1956 April fool issue reflected ("UR Admits 10,000 Frosh," "Garage Planned in Quad," "New Chapel to be St. George Eastman"). More photographs were included, more advertisements, and more cartoons; "Little Man on Campus, " introduced in 1952, was a hardy perennial, and the beloved "Peanuts" was added in the fall of 1957. By the end of the decade a number of issues were expanded to twelve pages, and included columns on world affairs and politics (the history graduate students "Annus Mirabilis" attempted to rouse undergraduates from their lethargy in such matters), and theatre, movie, and concert reviews; circulation in 1961 averaged 3,000 copies.

Like the student newspapers, Interpres, the intercampus yearbook, conformed closely to established pattern. Pictures of the men and women usually appeared in alphabetical order (many men of the class of 1947 still wearing military uniform), although one year the sexes were segregated. An informative, historical sketch of the University was a feature of the Centennial edition of 1949, and the. class of 1951 contributed a high-grade publication in color. The class of 1954 Interpres, rather than the usual summary of student activities, presented a chronological study of the college year, and for the first time included a complete directory of all students. Costs of producing the year book amounted to nearly $11,000 (1949), to which the Board of Control and the Women's Student Association contributed $4,700. The Junior Class raised the balance by selling advertising space, by a dance (one year a "CycloProm"), and by soliciting (after 1957) parents as patrons.

Editors of the literary magazines, the men's Genesee and the women's Dandelion, complained of a shortage of good manuscripts and had a hard time making ends meet. Both difficulties were to a degree overcome in the spring of 1951 when the two publications foresightedly merged and became the Prologue, attractively produced but sometimes less than exalted in the literary quality of its essays, short stories, and poetry. Prizes were offered for outstanding contributions; the spring 1958 number published winning entries in a creative writing contest sponsored by the English department. A Prologue workshop met fortnightly for reading, mutual criticism, and good fellowship. Published twice a year and with a press run of about three hundred copies, the Prologue for a time experimented with a Readers Digest type-format. In 1959, reverting to its earlier 10 x 12" size and with added art work and illustrative material, it became an all-University journal, with articles by Eastman School and graduate students, and the Medical and Nursing schools were invited to contribute.

Humor magazines, as such, had difficulty taking root. The Rat's Nest (1948) sold well but seems not to have survived its "Inaugural Issue,'' One that was to prove reasonably hardy, UGH (short for undergraduate humor--an onomatopoetic, attempt to express student apathy) came to life in the fall of 1957. After a second issue, it was allocated a small subsidy, and in 1959-1960 three issues were published (one, a satire on Interpres). The Campus-Times derided UGH as "unimaginative, vapid, offensive," and controversy between the two publications waxed hot. UGH replied with a special issue, titled "Renegade,'' contents of which editors of the senior journal found "saddening." In 1961 the name was changed officially to Renegade (the original masthead was resumed in 1965); a second issue planned for that year had to be cancelled for lack.of funds.

Engineers with a flair for writing continued to publish The Rochester Indicator, with articles on engineering, club and alumni news, and reports on campus affairs. Appearing at first bi-monthly and then quarterly, costs were entirely underwritten by national advertising. Enterprising undergraduates in the philosophy department published the mimeographed Inquiry, beginning in the spring of 1962 and continuing irregularly into 1964. Stand-by, the monthly publication of NROTC students, has been mentioned elsewhere. Attempting to fill the role of campus gadfly, a mimeographed sheet, the Phoenix, which promised highly controversial articles, was published by the men of Crosby Hall dormitory, at first weekly and then irregularly from 1954 through 1960. Women on the hill, after an initial Crossing News failed to make the grade, in 1961 established the fortnightly X-tra (reflecting the shape of the women's residence halls), an attractive publication with columnists, feature articles, and a special section devoted to news from "Helenwood" Hall.

An ambitious group of undergraduates, ably led, in 1948 established a novel means of communication, radio station WRUR. Offices were set up in Todd Union, a broadcasting studio in Burton Dormitory, and a telephone wire, reinforced by a booster transmitter, conveyed programs to Prince Street (one hour a week was allocated to the coeds' own program). As standard fare WRUR offered recorded music, sports and other up-to-the minute news of the campuses and the world at large, and before long network programs piped in by the Intercollegiate Broadcasting System. Aided by increasing advertising revenue, in 1953 a transmitter was installed at Helen Wood Hall. With the arrival of women on the River, studios were transferred to the basement at Todd Union, and, somewhat later, sound-proofed. With first-rate equipment, a record library of over two thousand discs, and ample financial support from local and national advertisers, by 1961 WRUR involved the efforts and skills of a staff of over one hundred students.


President Valentine had deep-rooted reservations, not to say an aversion, with regard to social fraternities, because he believed that fundamentally they were exclusive organizations on a campus "where there should be full democracy...In all this talk about democracy and freedom from discrimination we should look within," he wrote, "and act accordingly." He heartily disapproved of horseplay at the time of fraternity initiations, "a rude recrudescence of the spirit and procedure pretty well eliminated before the war." 8

On the other hand, the Interfraternity Alumni Council urged that more fraternities be organized, in view of the greatly increased undergraduate population, and the board of trustees came to share that opinion. Formal action by the trustees cancelled a rule limiting the size of chapters and the ban on new fraternities and houses. As spelled out, trustee policy authorized the formation of new local societies; national fraternities would not be invited to plant "colonies," however, and the question of national affiliation would be decided by the administration. No society would be approved unless its charter explicitly stated that discrimination because of race, creed, or color would not be practiced in choosing members, and no financial assistance would be given by the University to build a chapter house. 9

Beta Delta Gamma, which had passed away just before the war, was reconstituted by its alumni in 1949, becoming the tenth fraternity on campus, and assigned quarters in Crosby dormitory. Presently new fraternities were established, as the trustees had specified, not by the colonizing of national groups but by the natural association of congenial students. In 1954 a group of twenty-three was approved by the Hellenic Council (successor to the Interfraternity Council, which again became the official name in 1962) and in 1957 became a chapter of Tau Kappa Epsilon. Also founded in 1954 was Mu Rho, which became noted for high scholastic standards; in 1957 it, too, affiliated with a national fraternity, Sigma Alpha Mu (the "Sammies"). And in 1961 seventeen men formed Rho Nu, which three years later became a chapter of Alpha Epsilon Pi. In the fall of 1954 official sanction was given to Kappa Nu to erect a home on the fraternity quadrangle, to the north of the Delta Upsilon house. Completed the next year, it was the first new fraternity house in twenty-three years, filling out the symmetry of the quadrangle. The ninth and final plot was applied for in 1958 by Sigma Alpha Mu; they were told it would be held for them for a reasonable time, to allow plans to be drawn up and funds raised. After various delays the house was completed in 1967--an indication that, with building costs skyrocketing, future fraternity construction was unlikely, even were land available. Three non-house fraternities were assigned a wing in Lovejoy Hall.

A fire (December, 1956) which destroyed the third-floor dormitory at the Psi Upsilon house led to the installation of fire escapes and alarm systems in all the houses. A revision in the New York multiple housing laws soon made other safety renovations necessary, and the University made loans to the various fraternities to help them meet the costs involved. Existing houses were redecorated soon after the war, initiated record numbers of members, and for a time had resident advisors; three of them boasted dogs as mascots. "Open house" parties--after buffet suppers couples roamed from house to house to dance--were popular. When mothers protested at the scantiness of the costumes of feminine guests at an "Apache Party," the administration warned that this "breach of good taste" would not be tolerated. Decrying especially the boisterous and unruly informal gatherings, the Hellenic Council in 1954 drew up a uniform social code with rules governing drinking, women guests, and chaperones.

The four oldest fraternities, Alpha Delta Phi, which had been transplanted from Madison University in 1850, Delta Upsilon, Delta Kappa Epsilon, and Psi Upsilon, proudly and successively celebrated their centenaries with open houses and appropriate festivities. In addition, to mark its anniversary in 1958 Psi Upsilon presented a flagpole to the University, to be erected at the front of the fraternity quadrangle across from Todd Union and to be known as the "Psi U Centennial Flagpole." Outraged by this flaunting of the name of a single brotherhood, the other fraternities protested, and construction was halted. Compromise was reached in due time, and the flagpole when dedicated in November, 1958, honored all fraternities. 10

The trustee ruling banning the establishment of chapters of fraternities which restricted membership on the basis of race, creed, or color had not been applicable to fraternities already on campus. Subject to nation-wide collegiate and public pressure, such fraternity "bias clauses" were gradually being eliminated; a series of articles in the 1954-1955 Campus reflected increasing student concern over still-existing, discriminatory regulations. By the end of the 'fifties, among national fraternities with chapters at the U. of R., Sigma Chi alone retained in its charter an "only Caucasian" clause--a thorn to liberal students and faculty and to the local chapter of the NAACP.

In the spring of 1959 the faculty by overwhelming majority requested the President to take action to insure that no fraternity with discriminatory clauses in its constitution be permitted to operate at the U. of R. Equally perturbed, the student government condemned Sigma Chi discrimination. de Kiewiet, his hatred of apartheid beyond question, nonetheless decried hasty action, for he realized that for Sigma Chi, weighted with southern chapters, such a constitutional change could be effected only with great difficulty. But when over a year passed without evidence of any progress toward removal of the offensive clause, on September 14, 1960, a firm stand was taken--fraternities had until May, 1962 (later extended by the trustees to July), to remove the restriction. The national constitution must be revised, or the local chapter disaffiliate--go local--or disband. Faced with this ultimatum, Sigma Chi reported in the early fall of 1961 that the restrictive clause had been removed. 11

In the report prepared for the Middle States Association fraternities were judged on the whole a healthy and constructive influence, in contrast to Valentine's view a decade earlier. The percentage belonging to fraternities remained constant at just under half of the male students, and scholastic performance of the members compared favorably with the student body at large. Hazing procedures had become less vigorous, "hell week" in some cases becoming "help week" with pledges cleaning up the River bank, collecting for the March of Dimes, or performing other good works, and formal initiation ceremonies with their secrets, paraphernalia, and mumbojumbo were increasingly de-emphasized. More and more membership seemed based on practical considerations of living and social facilities (despite the strength of the non-house fraternities), rather than on fraternal loyalties and prestige. Some concern was felt that male leadership of student activities was in too large a degree concentrated among fraternity members, and the need for more opportunities for participation and leadership by non-fraternity men and by those living in the city was stressed. 12

During and after the war as the number of women students increased, sorority membership expanded, in some cases doubling. In the last months before the merger, with the alluring prospect of River Campus social life, the question arose of the continued need for sororities, but a referendum resulted in a vote heavily in favor of their retention. A questionnaire circulated among members regarding the possibility of "going national" met with an emphatic negative; as a result, sororities were not plagued with national charter restrictions as to color or creed. Anti-discrimination was the rule, a Negro, in fact, serving a term as president of Gamma Phi. The Inter-Sorority Council acted as a clearing house for rushing rules, sponsored an Inter-Sorority Bail and other gatherings, and published articles in the student newspaper on the pros and cons of sorority membership. In 1962 the original five sororities were reduced to four (and in 1966 to three), but alumnae chapters of both active and inactive groups continued to raise funds for scholarships for women and for a prize on Moving-Up Day to the freshman who had done most for her class. 13

A chapter of the national service fraternity, Alpha Phi Omega, with the surprising requirement that members once have been Boy Scouts, was organized in 1956. (A 1952 effort to form a chapter was unsuccessful.) Its most successful fund-raising scheme, a week-long "ugliest man on campus" contest--termed by some the "annual adulation of the anti-hero"--was first held in the spring of 1958. Dormitories and fraternities sponsored entrants, whose horrific photographs were placed above strategically located coin-boxes wherein the votes were recorded, and sometimes a potential UMOC solicited in repulsive person. Contributions in 1962 amounted to $1,450 (and to $5,295 in 1967) and were divided among various worthy causes. 14


Intercollegiate games firmly retained their place of preeminence in extra-curricular life. Spelling out a fresh University policy on athletics, Provost Gilbert referred to athletics as an integral part of college spirit and made it clear that good athletes who were also good students would be welcomed. In a similar vein, Director of Athletics Alexander pointed out that the University, with its excellent facilities and coaching staffs, aimed to give as many men as possible an opportunity to participate in sports with other colleges (approximately one third of all male undergraduates on the River Campus took part, and in intramural contests a good two thirds), and in general scheduled games with institutions of similar size and standards. Interference of sports with academic work was held to the absolute minimum. Not in admissions nor in any other way did the University have a double standard for the athletically competent and those who were not though Alexander wished undergraduates would display more zeal in legitimate recruiting. "If we hired our athletes," he remarked, "most, if not all, of the present players would be on the bench or in the stands." 15

Nationwide, rules on football playing were modified in the late 1940's. "Time-outs" were increased from three to four, and to reduce the danger of injuries the rules against "clipping" and the use of elbows in blocking were tightened; for one year only the rule on a "fair catch" of a punt was dropped. When opponents with whom Rochester customarily competed abrogated (1951) the one-year residence requirement for players, the University in self-defense followed suit; but with the 1953 season the residence rule was reinstated and freshmen were no longer eligible for varsity teams. In 1958, the try after a touchdown might yield two points, if the scoring play used were one that at other times would have resulted in a touchdown.

The football season of 1947 closed with a fine record; six wins, one loss (by a single point), and one tie. The tied game was marked and marred by an unhappy incident which presented the board of trustees with "one of the most trying problems" of the period. For three years in a row the University had fallen before the archrival Hobart; another story was confidently anticipated for 1947, but the game, played on a bitterly cold day, ended 7-7. On both sides play was hard and rough. Between the halves, a representative of the Secretary of the Navy presented a bronze plaque to President Valentine for the outstanding service of the University in training navy personnel. Prolonged speechmaking over a faulty address system evoked loud complaints mixed with "scurrilous remarks," chiefly from Hobart supporters. Allegedly Valentine, greatly irritated, alluded to the men from Geneva as "hoodlums,'' which sports-writers, none too fond of the President, dramatically exploited.

Owing to "an increasingly disturbing series of events over many years," Valentine had felt for some time that the interests of both institutions would be best served if intercollegiate games between them were suspended. Poor sportsmanship, as he interpreted it, in the 1947 contest and the likelihood that conditions would grow worse underlay the verdict to break off relations immediately. Certain influential University personalities agreed, some of them with a reservation on the manner in which the decision came to pass, but others, notably and emphatically alumni leaders, violently dissented. "Riverrats" in a poll voted heavily against discontinuance; "Hoodlums? No. Misdirected college spirit? Yes," thought a letter writer to the Campus. Preponderant sentiment at Prince Street ran in the same direction. "The skirts of both sides are none too clean," commented the Tower Times editor, who believed that the Navy award ceremony should not have been held during the game.

Notwithstanding the sharp divergence of opinion, Valentine pushed ahead with his resolution. As a result, one trustee remembered, the President "was an unfortunate victim of all kinds of derogatory remarks," and "a group in this community...was responsible for some unfortunate reactions." Consultations between trustees and other representatives of the two colleges produced an agreement that it would be inadvisable to resume football games at that time. In his first years in office, Valentine's successor was continually troubled by the ghost of this unhappy affair--an "intimate companion...," de Kiewiet wrote, "haunting my office more than the purlieus of the Athletic Committee. Our own sinning," he felt, had "given the ghost his right to roam." Through cooperation between the presidents of the two schools, athletic relations were finally resumed in the fall of 1956. 16

By 1951 recovery from any post-V-12 football slump was well under weigh, the Yellowjackets winning seven out of eight games; Gerald (Coke) Dales, Jr. 1951, of that team ranks among the finest of backs. In 1952 an unforgettable varsity won eight games in a row, the first team in Rochester's sixty-three years of football to complete an unbeaten, untied season, and the first to have a player, Captain Donald J. Bardwell, 1953, included in the Associated Press Little All American line-up. Three of his classmates, James W. Brennan, William E. Secor, and William V. Sharp, won honorable mention, as did co-captain R. Bruce McPherson, 1955, and Thomas L. Gibbons, 1956, two years later; their teammate, halfback Richard C. Devereaux, Jr., 1956, was similarly honored in a sports writers poll. (Unusually well-rounded, McPherson was active in student government, performed with distinction as King Lear in a Stagers production, and was graduated with highest honors.)

Six years later the 1958 varsity repeated the triumph of 1952. In an eight game season they amassed 257 points to their opponents 9, in five games holding the defeated team scoreless. The captain, Lawrence R. Palvino, 1959, named by the AP to its Little All American second team, was a dean's list student and along with seventeen of his teammates held a bona fide academic scholarship. "Mental Giants Prove Gridiron Toughies" was the eloquent headline dreamed up by a sports reporter impressed by the team's athletic and scholastic prowess, and the delighted trustees passed a congratulatory resolution. The next year, after fifteen straight victories, the Rivermen suffered only a single defeat, and the following year but two--the four spectacular seasons (1957--1960) were a fitting climax to the long career of Coach Elmer Burnham. 17

Basketball ranked next to football in undergraduate interest. Like the other recognized sports--soccer and swimming, baseball and track, golf and tennis--the hoopsters turned in winning, middling, and losing season records. Neil L. Alexander, 1950, and his brother, Louis A. Alexander, Jr. 1951 ("Little Lou" set a new record, scoring 237 points in one season), David R. Ocorr, John M. Donohue, Jr., and Arnold F. Ciaccio, all of the class of 1951, James S. Armstrong, 1954, and the remarkably versatile "Billy" Secor earned niches in the University's hall of basketball fame. In the winter of 1958-1959, after a string of eighteen straight defeats, the team emerged from a slump, William O. Yantz, 1960, and Theodore H. Zornow, 1959, leading the way. Michael D. Berger, 1962, became the all-time Yellowjacket scoring king, amassing 1129 points over his three-year varsity career, 490 in the twenty-one games of his final season (during which a new Palestra court record was set--1, 605 points). Not surprisingly, U. of R. was invited to participate in the NCAA post-season regional basketball tournament.

On the baseball diamond, Donald E. Diehl, 1947, Richard A. Garnish, 1949, and Robert C. Bruton, 1950, stood out, along with Thomas P. Sarro, 1952, and Joseph C. Texter, non-graduate 1955. The mid-fifties saw two winning seasons, but in 1958-1959, the year the Rivermen celebrated their most successful football season, the year basketball started its climb, baseball--once the first and foremost of intercollegiate contests--suffered an ignominious seven straight defeats. Eugene L. Nicandri, John R. Parrinello, Carl (Jerome C.) Violette, Walter W. Campbell, Jr. of the class of 1960, and Francis J. (''Fran") Caravaglio, 1963, -- all members of the triumphant football team--played with equal enthusiasm (but far from equal success) in the spring sport. The next year's record was better--Timothy O. Schum, 1960, hit four home runs in a single game with Hamilton--and 1962 saw a long awaited triumphant season.

On the soccer field John W. Mossel, Jr., Zenon Snylyk, both of the class of 1955, and the aforementioned Ted Zornow and Bill Yantz brought glory to the U. of R. Snylyk served as captain of the United States Olympic soccer team both while an undergraduate in 1954 and again in 1958 and 1962, and Zornow and Yantz achieved All American status. In 1957 soccer scored its first undefeated season, a tie with renewed rival Hobart preventing a clean sweep. The track team emerged triumphant from all five dual meets in the spring of 1951, Peter M. Cohen of that class the star runner, and repeated the feat in 1955.

Tennis, coached by U. of R. tennis star, Peter R. Lyman, 1947, consistently turned in winning records, and in the spring of 1961 was undefeated. For a baker's dozen years, Riverrat golfers chalked up victorious seasons. ''Speed" Speegle in 1962 closed out a glorious three decades as coach of the swimming team, which did him honor by handily winning seven out of ten meets.

Once more the desirability of a U. of R. crew came 'under discussion but was turned down as too expensive and too time-consuming, and explorations into the possibility of an ice hockey rink failed to take root. On the other hand, a student sailing club flourished. Aided by generous donors, six "T" boats (fiberglass sailing dinghies first used at M.I.T.) were acquired in the spring of 1954, and the following year sailing was given official sanction, and regattas conducted with sailing clubs at other Middle Atlantic and Eastern colleges. Home port was the Rochester Yacht Club at the mouth of the Genesee, a later experiment (1957) of mooring the dinghies alongside River Boulevard just to the west of the fraternity quadrangle proving unsatisfactory. Wrestling and squash also achieved intercollegiate status in the fall of 1958, bringing the roster of such sports to eleven; squash achieved its first winning season four years later. 18

The Stadium was formally dedicated in 1950 to the memory of the longtime physical education director, Edwin Fauver, and the graduating class gave funds for a new flagpole on the edge of the gridiron. Freshmen, seated en masse in bleachers across the field performed (1954) flip-card stunts, the Air Force and naval units, celebrating their first joint ROTC day in 1956, paraded in formation before the game, and the addition of a drum majorette lent color to the half-time performance of the marching band. Following the successful 1952 season, prices of football tickets advanced from $1.20 to $2.

To compensate for space lost to dormitories and the women's gymnasium, in the spring of 1956 new intramural playing fields were opened up on University owned land to the south of the River Campus between the Medical Center and Genesee Valley Park. For a number of years in the late summer the River Campus played host to a coaching school, attended by some two hundred secondary school coaches who listened to talks by noted national experts on their hazardous vocation.

Within the circumscribed limits permitted by administration policy, sports-loving alumni strove to broaden interest in games and to raise athletic teams to the reputation attained by University research workers. Under the changing names of Touchdown and Quarterback Clubs and the Golden "R" Club, alumni groups arranged a dinner before the first football game of the season, entertained guests at a football match, picked a "player of the week" for outstanding performance, and had weekly showings of movies of each game. Best organized of the groups, Golden "R" worked to interest secondary school youths of good academic and athletic ability in seeking admission to the University. For a time, the club helped to pay for a training table for gridiron warriors. 19

In tribute to the ladies, in 1956 the annual touchdown dinner, officially winding up the football season, became coed, but later reverted to its all-male status. At the 1957 dinner, President de Kiewiet served as speaker--one of his increasingly rare get-togethers with the students--while the writer of this volume officiated as toastmaster.

The Women's Athletic Association, meanwhile, carried on a busy round of activities, even to supplying cheerleaders for intercollegiate games at the River. It sent representatives to "play-days" at other women's colleges, and hosted similar get-togethers at Prince Street. A national field hockey tournament in 1950 drew contestants from all over the country, and to Sally Luitwieler Druckenmiller, 1952, belonged the distinction of being the first Princess to play in national hockey competition. In 1951 a "basketbrawl" was held with a River Campus team, to raise money for the athletic awards presented at an annual sports night dinner.

While patiently awaiting swimming facilities of their own, women students made use of pools in the city, and, to aid the alumnae swimming pool fund, staged an annual water ballet in the River Campus pool. After reunion of the colleges, the men as well as women (''Doll-Fins") participated in outstanding displays of synchronized swimming, perfected by weekly practice. The Women's Athletic Association continued its independent way, sponsoring tennis tournaments, swimming marathons, ski trips and the like, and holding an annual college supper. "Play days" became "sports days," and in keeping with the broad purposes of the organization, in 1964 its name was changed to Women's Recreation Association.


Though women students had unanimously endorsed the idea of the merger, it was with mixed feelings that they made ready in the spring of 1955 to bid farewell to Prince Street; the lead editorial in the final issue of Tower Times was entitled "Smiles and Tears." Especially, the intimacy and informality of the cooperative dorms would be missed, and the musty shabbiness of Anderson Hall. The handsome "Habein Hilton" would, it was feared, seem formal, efficient, institutional. Senior men made a gallant welcoming gesture by voting as their class gift a pair of stone benches, placed at either side of the entrance of the new Women's Residence Halls (for use, no doubt, by future generations of college males as they patiently awaited their dates). Four years later, the Middle States Association evaluators would report approvingly, "Male members of...the student body have accepted the presence of women...women enjoy a proper place in the life and interests of the institution. Women are involved in student activities, holding a fair share of officer positions and committee memberships in both elective and appointive posts." Some remnants of the days of separate schools still remained, such as separate dramatic groups (shortly to be united), separate placement services, and "some seemingly unnecessary differences in regulations for men and women." Susan B. Anthony's millennium was not yet.

The Women's College traditional Moving-Up Day was transplanted to the River with ease and put down healthy roots. Congregating on the steps of Rush Rhees Library, rather than of Anderson Hall, a May Queen, surrounded by her court, was crowned, honors and prizes announced, and members of Marsiens tapped. (The Marsiens had debated going coeducational but decided to remain, as before, an all-woman Senior honorary group.) Parents' Day, an outgrowth of the Women's College father-daughter Dad's Day, was held concurrently, and the following year was broadened to include parents of men students as well. The third year (1958), still further enlarged, Parents' Day became Parents' Weekend. Mothers and fathers were welcomed at classes and at special demonstration lectures and attended coffee hours; a banquet, a Stagers production and a musicale; and dormitory and fraternity open houses filled the evening hours.

Sophomore women in the fall of 1956 formed a new class society, the D'Lions--a "pep" group paralleling the sophomore men's Yellow Key. Members acted as hostesses at two annual University Days when the U. of R. entertained high school students. As many as 3,000 "pre-freshmen" from Rochester or out of town toured the campus and participated in discussion groups, and after lunch attended a football game, gaining thereby a foretaste of both the responsibilities and the pleasures of college life.

Continued, too, was the light-hearted women's Christmas College Supper, counterbalancing the men's Boar's Head feast. Also in the Christmas season, usually on a Sunday afternoon, students at the Women's Center staged an "open house" for faculty and friends, with each corridor outdoing the one before with greens and other Yuletide decorations, while downstairs a party, replete with tree and Santa and a gift for each small guest, was held for faculty children.

The hope that the male undergraduate would pay more attention to the amenities of life once the fair sex invaded the campus proved to be in vain. A compulsory board plan, covering twenty meals a week and approved by the student senate, was instituted in 1955, applicable to all resident students not eating at fraternity houses. In order to lend dignity to the evening meal, the senate, despite ardent protest, as early as 1951 passed resolutions requiring coats and ties at dinner (more informal attire was permissible in the Todd Union cafeteria). To little avail, evidently, for columns of the student newspaper continued to be filled with complaints regarding barbaric behavior and atrocious table manners that turned the Men's Dining Center into a "pig-sty. " As with institutional meals everywhere, unpalatable food was roundly damned, and the women joined in the protest; especially unloved was the omnipresent "vealburger." Amazingly, the Middle States Association investigators, who praised U. of R. housing, dining, and student union facilities as among the best in the country in relation to the size of the student body, in conversations with undergraduates found ''surprisingly little criticism regarding the quality and quantity of food served." One wonders with what students they talked! Food and conditions at the Men's Dining Center were one of the very real grievances that in the fall of 1961 helped trigger an explosion of student protest, described below. 20

Even more than coats and ties, a cause célèbre was the question of serving beer at Todd Union. Under Hellenic Council regulations governing its use and abuse, alcohol was tolerated at fraternity houses, the dean of students believing this preferable to regulations which might result in undercover drinking. On the whole, drinking was not a serious problem; at football games it was virtually non-existent, and because of expense, except at fraternity parties, little hard liquor was consumed. In the winter of 1954-1955 agitation for beer at Todd gathered recurring editorial support, to allow non-fraternity men equal privilege with fraternity members (and with reuning alumni) and to help make the student union more of a social center. From a public relations standpoint, however, it was felt unwise officially to bring girls and beer to the River Campus at the same time. Once integration of the college had taken place, a first order of business of the new student government was a ringing endorsement of a more liberal policy. Another year was to pass before the Campus-Times humor issue headline, "Beer Flows in Todd," became fact, and "beer blasts, first at Todd and then in the spacious lounge of the Men's Dining Center, became a regular part of the student calendar. 21

In preparation for the merger, to create one student government where two had existed before, a new Students Association constitution was drawn up. The governing body would be a College Congress, on an experimental basis for two years, to consist of the officers of the newly integrated associations, and representatives of each class and--an innovation--of the faculty. Students Association officers, the men's and women's deans, and one faculty member would comprise the executive board. A standing student committee on educational policy, established the previous year, would act as a second liaison between students and faculty. Pertinent sections of the new constitution received official faculty approval, although not until firm assurance was received that the faculty was in no way abdicating its traditional authority.

The constitution was voted on and adopted by both campuses, and fifteen students (six men, nine women) nominated for the presidency, a number the primaries presently reduced to five. But cries of fraud, or at the very least illegal procedure rang loud and clear, and on election day write-in candidates swamped the field. The men's senate voted to invalidate both primaries and election. After a heated four-hour mass meeting in the cafeteria at Cutler Union, followed by a joint all-night session, the women concurred, and the untabulated ballots were ceremoniously destroyed by fire. Over 300 participated in this "cafeteria caper," an unheard-of involvement in student government which the editor of the Campus --in an unprecedented one-page "extra"--felt augured well for a revitalized interest in extracurricular affairs on the coed campus.

A new election and more stringent nominating procedures were devised (nominations henceforth to be by nominating committee only or by petition of at least ten percent of the student body), and Mary Boat Miller, 1956, one of the original nominees, became president of the first coeducational Students Association. That a woman was also to be editor of the combined Campus-Times, as we have seen, gave rise to accusations that the fair sex was attempting to usurp all student offices, a fear of "dictatorship of the skirt."

The College Congress, with fifty student members and seven faculty, swung into action the next fall, attempting through its board on extracurricular policy to coordinate activities; a finance board took over the duties of the former Board of Control, a faculty member continuing as treasurer. But shortly the machinery proved cumbersome, with debate discursive and tiresome, and a quorum difficult to attain. In February, 1957, well before the expiration of the experimental two-year period, the moribund Congress dissolved and was supplanted by a College Cabinet, with the more manageable membership of eighteen, half elected at large, and half by each of the three lower classes.

To give the Cabinet official standing, the Students Association constitution was belatedly revised (March, 1958)--interest so tepid now, alas, that on first try the necessary fifty percent of the student body failed to vote. Reflecting concern over the dormitories' lack of representation, a communications committee was set up, with delegates from each wing in the men's residences and each corridor in the Women's Center. Like the Congress, the Cabinet worked through boards on extracurricular policy and on finance; in the fall of 1959 a judicial board was added (with a representative of the faculty and of the administration in addition to its seven student members) to handle student misdemeanors and disciplinary problems. By 1961, well-established, the Cabinet consisted of four boards (nominations the fourth) and some seventeen sub-committees, handling all phases of the extracurriculum. The Women's Council of the Associated Women Students, to which all women belonged, and an Inter-hall Council for men acted as governing bodies for the residence halls; each had a nonvoting member on the Cabinet. The Hellenic and Intersorority Councils continued as regulatory bodies for their constituents.

The student activity fee remained at $25, revenues in 1955-1956 from a student body of 1,730 approximating $46,000. Some $9,000 was allocated to the support of the Campus-Times, $14,000 to Todd Union, and the remainder divided among all other non-athletic activities including the support of the Cabinet itself. In the spring of 1962, with a projected budget of $63,000 from an anticipated student body of 2,250, the fee was raised to $29. The athletic fee remained constant at $26 until the fall of 1964 when it was absorbed into the tuition charge.

To the Strong Auditorium Committee the College Cabinet delegated responsibility for maintenance of theatrical facilities at Strong and supervision of the dramatic clubs which, spurred on by coeducation, flourished. Stagers continued to present serious drama, usually twice a year, ranging from Shakespeare to contemporary work, including (1955) a play authored by a recent graduate, Kenneth M. Cameron, 1953. Devoted to the contemporary and the experimental were the U. of R. Players, organized by a group of freshmen in 1956, and succeeded by Experiment 60, appearing in the fall of 1959 and continuing thereafter, its name being updated each year. Agitation to have dramatic training and stagecraft included in the curriculum was without success.

On the lighter side, in the fall of 1958 men and women cooperated in producing a Broadway-type musical comedy (the one that year, appropriately, "Girl Crazy"). Dubbed "Co-Kast," these performances became, an annual fall affair. For student-authored productions, however, Kaleidoscope stubbornly continued its all-girl way and Quilting Club its masculine antics ("High Sobriety," its 1957 show, was typical) until the 1961-1962 season when the two groups agreed to merge--tentatively and experimentally--for one year. The resulting group, the Jesters, proved mutually acceptable and enduring, and took over each spring the writing and staging of a joint musical spoof. In 1960 an enterprising and long-lived group, Cinema '62, set up a series of rarely seen art films, shown in Lower Strong (occasionally when very popular in Upper Strong) for a nominal fee. 22

The Student Arts Committee (also a sub-committee of the College Cabinet), unusually dedicated and efficient, in the spring of 1958 staged a week-long "First Annual Festival of the Arts," with dance recitals, glee club concerts, and performances by the Stagers (Saroyan's "The Time of Your Life'') and the U. of R. Players, and an exhibition in the fine arts gallery of old masters from the George Eastman collection at Eastman House--the students assuming full responsibility for transportation, guarding, and insurance. The next spring a Festival of Contemporary Arts was held, and the following years equal attention was devoted to the arts of Scandinavia and of Russia. Under the auspices of the Arts Committee also; various professional performers were brought to the campus, among them a group from the-Stratford (Canada) Shakespearean Festival and the actress Judith Anderson in scenes from Medea and Macbeth.

Not strictly a part of student dramatic life, but worthy of recall, were a series of musical romps presented by the faculty at Christmas parties or at the early spring casserole supper sponsored by the University Women's Club; occasionally an extra performance was scheduled for student benefit. Titles reflected topics close to faculty hearts-- The Legacy, Vocai Me Doctorem, Turnabout is Fair Pay --the latter, first produced in 1951, so successful it was revived five years later. Members of the English department provided the lyrics, with the score as a rule by physicist Arthur Roberts (among his serious works, an "Overture for the Dedication of a Nuclear Reactor," first performed by the Oak Ridge Symphony Orchestra). Parenthetically, another pleasant faculty custom that should not go unrecorded was an annual Mother's Day picnic--freedom from meal preparation being the noblest gift faculty fathers could bestow--held on the playing fields or on the spacious grounds of Woodward House.

Though cultural interaction between the Eastman School and the River Campus left a good deal to be desired, as the Middle States. examiners pointed out, student interest in music was high. Each year 350 or more subscribed at a special student rate for tickets to the Rochester Philharmonic Orchestra concert series, and off-campus jobs for ushering at the Eastman Theatre or elsewhere were in demand. On another level (literally), a student Bellman's Society was organized in 1954, each member pledging himself to the performance of an hour-long concert on the Hopeman Chime. Through the generosity of the original donor, the Chime was enlarged in 1956, and the next year a special program, complete with the Commencement Hymn, honored Professor Emeritus Slater, the University's first bellman, on his eighty-fifth birthday. A Jazz Society, organized in 1955, gave concerts in Strong to raise funds for World Christian Service projects. In 1958 the Dance Club arranged to have Robert Cohan, formerly a leading dancer in the Martha Graham company, commute from New York City twice weekly to teach an informal class in modern dance; the women's physical education department cooperated by providing studio space. The following year the course received official status, although not academic credit, under University School auspices. 23

With the appointment of Ward L. Woodbury, Jr., as director of music in 1954, undergraduate music received a shot in the arm. Holder of an Eastman School doctorate, Woodbury taught courses in music appreciation and assumed responsibility for directing both glee clubs, the chapel choir (later an a capella choir as well), and the marching and concert bands. A major accomplishment was the organization of an all-University symphony orchestra, open to students, faculty, alumni and staff. Playing for sheer pleasure, its concerts were free to the public and pioneered in presenting not only amateur soloists of high caliber, but also works by composers whose skill had lain hidden under academic appointments in science or mathematics.

Men's and women's glee clubs retained their separate identities, combining as before to present annual Christmas concerts to the alumni and the University community at large. On occasion, each club thwarted in-breeding by performing jointly with clubs of the opposite sex, Colgate or Elmira, Hamilton' or Syracuse. The men's club attained a degree of professionalism, pressing long-playing records of its work and performing (1956) as soloist with the Rochester Philharmonic Orchestra. Spring tours were an annual feature, that to Colorado in 1959 taking members for the first time west of the Mississippi. A new quartette, "The Overtones," replaced "The Meliora Kids" in 1956. But destined for far longer life and great success was a group formed the same year consisting of twelve of the best male voices, "The Yellowjackets, " who performed on their own as well as at regular glee club concerts.

Student interest in debating, both intramural and intercollegiate, continued strong. In 1955 the Forensic Society played host to a dozen visiting teams and the following year to the International Collegiate Debating Association, representing more than thirty American and Canadian institutions, and in turn sent teams to compete on other campuses. Seventy-five would-be debaters applied for the four posts on a special U. of R. team, coached voluntarily by a young history instructor, which in June, 1962 participated (and went down to defeat) on the fast-paced "College Bowl" television program. 24

As has been noted, the extracurriculum, playing as it does a vital part in student life, was subject to Middle States Association review, along with more official University activities. The athletic program was given high marks, but the evaluators criticized other student activities as being too "fun centered" and not providing an adequate laboratory for the curriculum. Closer faculty guidance would be necessary to achieve the desired coordination; yet the program as a whole was praised as "student centered." Cultural opportunities at the Eastman School and in the city were rated exceptional but on the River Campus were found somewhat limited--greater interchange between the campuses was urged.

In addition, Middle States advisors deplored the lack of extracurricular activities for graduate students (a situation that would be remedied to a degree with the building of the Graduate Residence Center). Foreign students, the vast majority of; whom were post-baccalaureate, were numbered, among those out in the cold, although community attempts were made to welcome them; area students in 1950 shared in an International weekend with the visitors. Of the 142 foreign students in 1962 (only twenty-two were undergraduates), coming from forty-two countries, India was the most heavily represented with thirty-eight, and Japan with twenty-two. Associating largely with their countrymen, they often failed, to achieve the social integration that should have been an important factor in their American collegiate experience. 25

As women students prepared in the winter of 1954-1955 for their hegira to the River, a pressing question was the future of the Y.W.C.A., for which the men's college had no counterpart ( the Y.M.C.A. having been disbanded there in the late 'thirties). With more than eighty percent of the students members, the "Y" was the focus of Prince Street social service and religious activities. Many were fearful--erroneously, so it proved--that if the women's organization were dissolved, leadership opportunities for women would be severely limited. In the long run, sentiment for complete coeducation prevailed, and the "Y" voted itself out of existence, to be replaced by a joint men and women's Student Christian Association--later, the University Protestant Fellowship.

Shortly upon assuming the presidency, de Kiewiet took a firm hand in River Campus religious life. In the first place, he lined up what had long been wanting, outside non-denominational financial support, a $15,000 annual grant from the Pew Memorial Foundation. Secondly, he appointed a committee of three faculty and administrators, one from each major faith, to study student religious needs. The committee recommended (1953) that the University sponsor a multi- and interfaith program, providing worship, counseling, opportunities for social work, and social activities. A full time chaplain, responsible to the University rather than to. any particular denomination, should be appointed. Though course offerings in religion should be extended, the chaplain should teach only to an extent not detrimental to his principal functions, religious and spiritual counseling and university-wide coordination of all student religious activities. Again, need for an interfaith chapel was put forward, or at the very least a religious activities building. (Ground for an interfaith chapel was broken in 1967, the gift of the McCurdy family of Rochester.)

The committee's support for ecumenicism notwithstanding, denominational groups tended to proliferate, reflecting the increasingly heterogeneous student body. A campus branch of the Canterbury Club was formed (1955) under the guidance of a chaplain appointed by the local Episcopal diocese, who served also as Protestant chaplain at the Medical Center. A Wesley Fellowship of young Methodists, a Lutheran Students Association, and a group known as Student Religious Liberals (largely Unitarian), all received counseling and support from local churches. A Westminster Fellowship existed for a time, but in 1959 Presbyterians, Congregationalists, and others joined together nationally to form United Christian Fellowship, which at the U. of R. blended its efforts with the University Protestant Chapel. The University Protestant Fellowship worked as a coordinating body, and served as a clearing house for social service projects, blood donations, and World University Student Service drives (including aid for students in the Hungarian rebellion), and` sponsored an annual Interfaith Religious Conference. That in 1958, de Kiewiet noted with satisfaction, attracted an attendance of more than 700, despite a severe snowstorm.

Following the committee's recommendation, Robert H. Beaven was appointed University chaplain in 1954, with student counseling his primary concern. With the revamping of Todd Union, a religious activities center was established on the second floor with offices for the chaplain and for various religious organizations. Most of the Protestant groups worshipped with the University Protestant Chapel at its Sunday morning service at Strong Auditorium. Musical vesper services were held on occasion, in cooperation with the a capella choir, the dance club, and the all-University Symphony orchestra, with special music (notably, "Shepherd Obed" in 1955 and 1956) provided by Eastman School composer, Thomas Canning, 1940. In addition, Episcopalians for a number of years held an early Sunday communion in the lounge at the Frederick Douglass Building. At Todd, Christian Scientists met weekly, Hillel held services Friday nights and Saturdays, and the Newman Club masses on Sundays. As of 1962, of those students who expressed a religious preference, roughly 55 percent were Protestant, 35 percent Jewish, and 15 percent Catholic. Baptists, under whose aegis the University was founded, accounted for somewhat less than half of one percent of the River Campus community. 26


The Korean War and the question of military service clouded the early 'fifties. An advisory office was set up in the winter of 1951, and that spring students took the first draft examinations, designed to determine by academic standing their right to deferment. But confusion continued and uneasiness mounted over possible reclassification by local draft boards. In 1955 returned Korean veterans formed a student veterans organization to advise potential draftees. U. of R. deans and the commanding NROTC officer appeared on a TV forum devoted to "The Student and Military Service;" a later television series dealt grimly with "You and the A-Bomb."

The question of peace and of bringing the proliferating arms race under control began to trouble formerly uninvolved students. A branch of the Committee for a Sane Nuclear Policy was established on campus in March, 1960, and two of its members joined in the SANE rally at United Nations headquarters in New York City. The next year SANE sponsored an all-University conference on "Peace-Your Responsibility," brought Nobel-Prize winning chemist Linus Pauling to the campus in an eloquent plea for peace, and sent two busloads of Rochester students to a "Turn toward Peace" rally in the nation's capitol. The fall (1960) convocation, with journalist Edward R. Murrow, James Phinney Baxter of Williams College, and George B. Kistiakowsky, Presidential aid for science, explored "Perspectives on Peace;" later eighty year old Socialist, Norman Thomas, welcome at the U. of R. at long last, urged disarmament. When the SANE organization disbanded nationally, the local chapter continued as the Student Peace Action and Education Committee, playing host to the Hiroshima Peace Pilgrimage (made up of survivors of the bombing), and organizing a rally protesting the resumption of nuclear testing.

Student participation in national and especially in local politics was tepid, though in national election years the Republican and Democratic clubs roused themselves from their recurring four year slumber and student volunteers helped man downtown political headquarters. As elsewhere, Adlai Stevenson was a student favorite. On the other hand, in a Campus-Times poll just before the 1960 election, Kennedy garnered only 189 votes to Nixon's 121. By way of contrast, a referendum dealing with a vital campus issue (should the fraternity news column, "Greek Week," be reinstated...) polled a total vote three times greater--a sad commentary on student concern with the larger world.

Activities of the House UnAmerican Affairs committee, on the other hand, precipitated genuine protest, and in May, 1961, the College Cabinet passed a resolution supporting a National Student Association demand for the abolition of HUAC. The issue was debated long and vigorously, and in an ensuing poll over forty percent of the student body voted. A large majority believed that HUAC should be substantially modified (264) or abolished (162)--212 voted for retention in its present form--but, alas, sixty percent of those voting believed the Cabinet had no right to legislate in such matters, and the Cabinet was forced to withdraw its resolution. Governor Rockefeller's appropriation of $100 million for construction of fall-out shelters in educational institutions also provoked controversy. But of genuine radicalism there was none. In the mid-fifties a Labor Youth League Newsletter was mailed to selected students to "stimulate interest in a study of Marxism." Any effect was negligible; most recipients were embarrassed to be on the mailing list. And when, as we shall see, student discontent flared into a demonstration, a protest rally, no trace of subversive influence could be found. 27

In the first half of the 'fifties, the era of Senator Joseph McCarthy, it was the faculty (along with de Kiewiet) rather than the students who were prone to political activity and dissent. The Rochester chapter of the American Association of University Professors was resolute in condemning (February, 1951) the California Board of Regents for the loyalty oath inflicted on the faculty of the University of California at Berkeley, and for dismissing those who refused to comply. Somewhat later, letters to the editor appearing in the local press from members of the U. of R. faculty, defending President Truman's right to discharge General MacArthur, outraged portions of the public and certain conservative trustees. Again, in the election of 1956 faculty letters drew criticism. de Kiewiet placated the trustees, deeming "political debate by members of the faculty attractive and constructive," and explaining that such letters were simply "continuations of discussions at luncheon and in the corridors...;" he agreed that use of the University's name or letterhead was unwise.

In a recurring anti-loyalty oath protest in 1960, the local AAUP requested that the University withdraw from the National Defense Education Act fellowship program because of the affidavit denying participation in any subversive organization--the so-called disclaimer affidavit--required of recipients of financial aid. The Arts and Science faculty, the Engineering faculty, and the College Cabinet joined in passing resolutions condemning the affidavit. de Kiewiet, believing withdrawal from the program would work undue financial hardship both on fellowship holders and on the University (over $125,000 had already been awarded at the U. of R.), did not accede to the request, but assured the faculties that he would work for removal of the obnoxious provision through professional and scholarly channels.

A tempest in the academic freedom teapot, with faculty and students united in protest, was brewed in the spring of 1962 when, on the "recommendation" of the district attorney of Monroe County, copies of two books by Henry Miller-Tropic of Cancer and Tropic of Capricorn--were removed from the shelves of Rush Rhees. Library and placed in a locked vault. The Provost acknowledged the University's responsibility to provide materials essential to freedom of teaching and inquiry, and shortly it was announced that ten paperback copies were available on the library shelves, the hardbound copies having been removed for their protection. In compliance with the district attorney's order, however, none would be sold at the bookstore. Undergraduates, graduates, and long Campus-Times editorials raised howls of protest. To the statement that Tropic of Cancer could be read in the library, the College Cabinet indignantly replied by demanding that the U. of R. defend the right of the book to circulate, and a Faculty Committee for Freedom of Adult Reading (of over a hundred members) vigorously concurred. 28

All-University conferences, on which President Valentine had set such store, continued to be held, but on a generally lesser scale. A three-day conference (1954) on "World Awareness: The American Undergraduate and the Non-Western World" was enthusiastically attended, with students from Prince Street and the Eastman School bused over to the River Campus for the culminating lecture, "We Need Not Lose Asia," by Saturday Review of Literature editor Norman Cousins. Underwritten by a generous grant from the Sidney Hillman Foundation, the conference in fact served as a workshop on the development of non-western studies programs. A second conference dealt with "Western Impact on Contemporary Africa," the area closest to de Kiewiet's heart. The Canadian Studies program also sponsored conferences--on Canadian-American economic relations, foreign policy, mass media--and Lester B. Pearson, former Canadian premier and UN General Assembly president, spent three days on campus lecturing and meeting with classes. A Group-Relations Institute--a series of public lectures and conferences--was held (1955-1958) under the aegis of the department of sociology. Community leaders joined with visiting speakers in conducting discussion groups after each session.

The English department held an annual conference on modern writers, participated in by faculty members and an occasional visiting author. Poets Stephen Spender, Marianne Moore, and e. e. cummings read from their own work (cumming's paintings were shown concurrently in the little gallery of the fine arts department), and novelists Elizabeth Bowen, Saul Bellows, and John Dos Passos spoke on their craft. The 1958 conference on poetry was honored by the readings of three poets-in-residence (Hyam Plutzik, Richard M. Gollin, and William D. Snodgrass). Outstanding, and generating a goodly amount of intellectual excitement, was a joint departmental conference on "Literature and the Arts in Contemporary Society," with poet and critic John Ciardi, architect Paul Rudolph, painter William Kienbusch, and literary critic Harry Levin.

In addition to those speaking at conferences, other lecturers, some sponsored by the Outside Speakers Committee of the College Cabinet, added intellectual or political stimulus. Among them, historian Oscar Handlin, Sovietologists Alex Inkeles and Ernest J. Simmons, and Oxonian philosopher H. J. Paton spoke before student groups, as did astronomers Bengt Stromgren and Harlow Shapley (the latter, a Phi Beta Kappa lecturer, spent a week on campus in 1957). Public affairs were discussed by Frances Perkins, former Secretary of Labor, and Supreme Court Justice William O. Douglas, and the political pot was kept at simmer, at the very least, by Senator Jacob Javits on the Soviet threat, Senator Barry M. Goldwater on the case for conservatives, and by Senator John F. Kennedy, shortly before his election to the Presidency. Coffee hours on Wednesday afternoons in the Welles-Brown room continued popular; weekly attendance in 1958 averaged eighty-five.

More and more, conferences and lectures reflected the growing contemporary concern with civil rights. In a two-day conference in 1955, "Freedom to Dissent," Negro historian John Hope Franklin joined Harrison E. Salisbury of the New York Times, Arthur E. Sutherland of the Harvard Law School,and scientist Hans Bethe of Cornell in defending political as well as academic freedom; a conference on "Social Non-Conformity" followed in 1957. Two closely related current problems, "The Open and the Closed Society" and "The Negro and the Urban Community," were examined in 1960, and novelist James Baldwin at the English department conference in 1961 stressed the urgency of full citizenship for the Negro. In 1962 critic Alfred Kazin and James M. Landis, former Harvard Law School dean, brought problems home to roost in a series of lectures entitled "Society and the Academic Conscience. "

The consensus of those reporting to the Middle States Association in 1959 was that this wide array of lectures, forums, and conferences, though stimulating to classroom work, was not particularly successful in prompting direct social or political activity by the students. Whether they spoke too soon we shall consider shortly.

Increasingly, students participated in off-campus welfare projects, especially in work with the disadvantaged in the Rochester inner-city where during the 'fifties the Negro population more than doubled. A special Campus-Times issue (November 5, 1958) on race relations testified to growing concern, and in the conferences mentioned above attempts were made to probe problems of poverty and race.

But the question of civil rights was no longer academic. Mass arrests following lunch-counter sit-ins in the South led to protest; U. of R. students raised funds to help those arrested and picketed (March, 1960) the local Woolworth store in sympathy. Henry S. Ashmore, Pulitzer Prize winning editor, in a lecture later that month placed the sit-ins in the perspective of the total Negro rights movement, as did Thurgood Marshall of the NAACP; In May, 1961, seventy Rochester students (including some from the Divinity School) picketed local Schine-owned movie houses because of that chain's segregation practices in the South--and felt rewarded six weeks later when the Schine Theatres management agreed to full integration.

A small (nineteen) but significant group participated in the Maryland Freedom ride of December, 1961, protesting discrimination in eating places. Later that winter the Students Association sent a delegate to Louisiana to investigate the situation at Southern University, where Negro students who had participated in anti-segregation demonstrations had been expelled and refused reinstatement. The faculty, also aroused, condemned by resolution "use of violence and the threat of violence...[and] application of economic pressures as mechanisms for the settlement of academic disputes," and appealed to the executive and judicial authorities of the State of Louisiana to support the academic and civil rights of its citizens. 29


It was no novelty for the Campus-Times to assert, as it did time and time again, that college spirit, a sense of community was at a low ebb. But "Rochesteritis"--a term coined for student apathy regarding campus and world problems--was surely not indigenous to the U. of R. Everywhere returning veterans, whether of World War II or of the Korean War, were concerned largely with the involvements of everyday life, the prospect of corporate careers or suburban togetherness. The postwar student generation, too, tended to raise its sights no higher than the importance of the point-hour ratio and personal success. In the fall of 1957, Russia launched the first sputnik. Inevitably the world of suburbia and the corporation began to seem less secure. Meanwhile; overcrowding in classrooms, dormitories, and the student union contributed to a sense of denigration of the worth of the individual, which announcement of plans for a "greater university" of 2, 500 did little to allay. In addition, lessened contact with the faculty, many involved primarily with work of their graduate students and with research, tended to make the undergraduate see himself as no more than a series of punches on a computer card.

As enrollment grew, so did feelings of frustration and powerlessness, of lack of communication between administrators and students. Half a century earlier with Rush Rhees, the president of the university had ceased to be a paterfamilias, a counselor and friend of the student, as was the old-time college president and instead had become a sort of educational statesman. President Valentine had been away from the campus for long periods for Democrats for Willkie and for the Marshall Plan, both worthy causes. President de Kiewiet seemed always away, enmeshed in intercollegiate, even international concerns. Requests that he meet informally with students at coffee hours or the like fell on deaf ears. Despite his unfailing attendance at football games whenever in town, to the average student he was a remote figure. 30

With the advent of women students on the River and with the first wave of the a World War II baby boom relentlessly advancing, the problem of overcrowded classrooms and big lecture sessions became acute. Large lecture courses, with graduate students taking over discussion groups one hour a week, spread the wealth of professional knowledge, but especially in the humanities, lack of give and take with the instructor made the student feel he was being shortchanged. In addition, the institution of the four-course program, eminently desirable though it might be insofar as non-fragmentation of interest and energy was concerned, seemed a classic example of "less is more"--and the quality of that less seemed to be deteriorating.

In the fall of 1961, the announcement of a tuition increase for the following year triggered the discontent--the financial nerve is close to the surface. In the cold, intermittent drizzle of a late October day, more than 500 students gathered on the Eastman Quadrangle, staging an orderly but deeply felt protest rally. The question of increased tuition was lost in the larger one--whether the quality of education the undergraduate received was high enough to justify an ever higher tuition. Thoughtful student speakers outlined the more fundamental grievances: large, impersonal classes, dull, uninspiring lectures, and the general de-emphasis of undergraduate teaching in favor of graduate work and research. Unsatisfactory conditions at the Men's Dining Center ranked lower on the list. Furthermore, the problem of communication seemed insoluble; causes of discontent had existed for some time, were steadily worsening, and yet formal attempts to bring them to the attention of administration and faculty had been without success. Questionnaires distributed at the rally gave concrete expression to the student dissatisfaction. Eighty percent of those answering felt they failed to receive "full value" in lectures or recitations, and ninety percent wanted closer contact with the faculty; only twenty percent found the four-course system "stimulating."

This time student voices were heard. Deans Ravin and Kaufmann, acting with dispatch and praising the students for their attempt at an objective inquiry into academic policy, set up a Faculty-Student Policy Review Group. This committee, comprising the two deans, the chairman of the faculty's Committee on Academic Policy, and seven students, went promptly to work, meeting for three long sessions during its first week and frequently thereafter. In January its report was released, neither castigating the University for its sins, nor yet absolving it from all blame. If a distinguished faculty was to be maintained, increased enrollment and large classes were economic facts of life, but facilities would be improved with the completion of Hoyt lecture hall, and in the future lecturers for large classes would be chosen with care. After sifting complaints and questionnaire responses, other basic problems seemed to have their origin in the freshman, year more academically oriented freshman week, a revised, more personal advisory system, and a series of small tutorial or preceptorial courses would introduce freshmen to intellectual disciplines and equip them for upperclass life. Student membership on standing joint faculty-student committees such as the CAP or the Judicial Review Board should be maintained and strengthened. The existing Policy Review Group should be continued as an important channel of communication, and subsidiary faculty-student committees should be set up within each department.

Hopefully, undergraduates concluded that the rally had demonstrated the potential influence of students in areas of policy formerly reserved for faculty and administration. "Not a single decision which effects [sic] the student body,'' a Students Association presidential candidate proclaimed, "...should be made by the Administration without prior consultation with students and their leaders." Their elders felt that the undergraduates had furnished important insights, and perhaps gained some, on the nature, purposes, and problems of a fast-expanding educational institution. Unlike many later student protests elsewhere, the rally of '61 was conducted with order and dignity, and with no disruption of the academic process. Nor was there any taint of outside agitation or subversive influence. Without question, however, the prevalent Negro demonstrations for civil and human rights served as a model for protesters in their demonstration for academic rights. 31

At an all-campus "town meeting" the following spring, the administration reaffirmed its determination to maintain machinery for student participation in a wide range of policy decisions. The goals of the greater university and plans for their achievement were outlined by the Provost; others discussed proposed curricula expansion and plans for new buildings. An enrollment of 2,500 by 1965 was essential and inevitable, it was pointed out. Not only was collegiate education no longer the prerogative of the few, but the problem of increased numbers had been many times compounded by the postwar population explosion. Recently established Monroe Community College would do much toward providing for the needs of community, but the University without sacrifice of quality must accommodate its share. Students generally applauded this forthright session of give and take as an experiment in communication, a start in fulfilling one of the primary demands at the October rally, and expressed the hope that in the future similar meetings would be scheduled each semester.

Untidiness, irreverence, and excitement--these were the qualities which Provost Hazlett, speaking at a convocation at the beginning of this turbulent yet productive year, listed as the essentials of a true university atmosphere. The new decade, under new leadership still to come, seemed likely to provide all three.

Footnotes for Chapter 38

  1. Information in this chapter is based largely on the content of: student publications, Campus, LXXI-LXXXII (1946-1955), Tower Times, XXII-XXXI (1946-1955), Campus-Times, I-VII (1955-1962), Interpres, Classes of 1947-1962, and others on file in the University archives, Rush Rhees Library. Also helpful in recreating student life of the postwar period are "Chronological Review of Events", MSAR -A, "The University as a Whole," and MSAR B-12, "Staff Services of the River Campus."
  2. Report of Traditions Committee, May 1, 1951. Gilbert Papers. Lester O. Wilder to Cornelis W. de Kiewiet, April 30, 1954. de Kiewiet Papers. New York Times Magazine, May 8, 1958. R D&C, October 14, 1961. Robert H. McCambridge to de Kiewiet, October 12, 1953. de Kiewiet Papers. Frank J. Dowd, Jr., to John L. Taylor, 1955, November 20, 1953. Ibid. Conversation with Dowd, February 5, 1969.
  3. Report of the Committee on Student Activities [1952-1953]. de Kiewiet Papers.
  4. RAR, XXVI (1948), no. 3, 12. Ibid., X (1949), no. 4, 12.
  5. RAR, X (1949), no. 4, 6.
  6. RAR, XXV (1947), no. 4, 10-11. R D&C, March 22, 28, 1947. RAR, XII (1951), no. 3, 13.
  7. MSAE, 46.
  8. Alan Valentine to J. Edward Hoffmeister, November 9, 1949. Valentine Papers. Valentine to Lester O. Wilder, February 20, 1947. Ibid.
  9. Trustee Records, X, January 29, June 18, 1949. Donald W. Gilbert to Alan Valentine, February 3, 1949. Valentine Papers.
  10. RAR, XVI (1955), no. 3, 5. Executive Committee Minutes, September 16,1959. Finance Committee Minutes, May 28,1957. R D&C, August 30, 1958.
  11. Faculty Minutes, April 9, 1959. Campus-Times, VI, February 23, 1960. Trustee Records, May 4, 1959. Executive Committee Minutes, September 14, 1960, August 25, 1961. Charles R. Dalton, "A Study' of Social Fraternities on the River Campus," 16. Dalton, "History of Gamma Pi Chapter of Sigma Chi." Dalton gives the date of the amendment to Sigma Chi bylaws as 1963. Even after such amendment, possibility of discrimination at the national level continued, for the Sigma Chi governing council retained the right to blackball any proposed member. See, U.R. Journal, I, no. 10, February 27, 1969. For an illuminating treatment of the problem see, Alfred McClung Lee, Fraternities Without Brotherhood (Boston, 1955).
  12. MSAR, B-9, 16. Dalton, "A Study of Social Fraternities..."
  13. Crocker, "Brief History of Gamma Phi." Marsha Butler, 1967, to Ruth M. Kugler, May 17, 1966.
  14. RAR, XXV (1963), no. 4, 28. U. of R. Notes, IX, no. 3 (summer, 1967). Campus, LXXIX, May 2, 1952.
  15. Faculty Minutes, December 15, 1949. RAR, XI (1949-1950), no. 2, 21. MSAR -A, 63-66. See also, "Statement on U. of R. athletic policy" in U R Newsletter to Parents, I, no. 3 (January, 1959).
  16. R D&C, November 13, 1947. Ibid., November 12,18,1966. Campus, LXXIII, November. 21, December 12, 1947. Tower Times, XXIII, November 21, 1947. Trustee Records, IX, December 1, 1947. R T-U, November 17, 1947. R D&C, November 20, 1947. Alan Valentine to John W. Remington (draft), November(?), 1947. Valentine Papers. Remington to Valentine, December 4, 1947. Ibid. Valentine to Harper Sibley, December 22, 1947. Ibid. M. Herbert Eisenhart to Arthur J. May, September 5, 1967. Rhees Library Archives. RAR, XXVI (1948), no. 5, 20. Cornelis W. de Kiewiet to William H. Gilman, February 24,1952. de Kiewiet Papers.
  17. For athletic statistics the author is indebted to "U of R Athletic and Physical Education Department Fact Book, 1966-1967" and to the helpful suggestions of Louis A. Alexander, Lyle D. Brown, David R. Ocorr, and John T. Sullivan. Ernest A. Paviour, "The Football Fortunes of the U. of R.," Brighton -Pittsford Post, August 31, 1967. RAR, XIV (1953), no. 2,14. Ibid., XVI (1955), no. 3,19. MSAR -A, 66.
  18. Henry T. Maijgren to Raymond L. Thompson, March 3, 1953, April 29, 1953.
  19. RAR, XI (1950), no. 3, 10. Raymond L. Thompson to Howard J. Henderson, 1917, August 17, 1950. Gilbert Papers.
  20. MSAE, 45, 47.
  21. Robert H. McCambridge to Margaret Habein, May 21, 1954. de Kiewiet Papers. Pearce Atkins, Jr., to Margaret Habein, April 21, 1954. Ibid. President's Cabinet Minutes, January 19, 1954, February 3, 1956. Ibid. Executive Committee Minutes, January 11, 1956.
  22. RAR, XXIV (1962), no. 4, 28.
  23. MSAE, 10, 47. Dance, XXXIV, November, 1960, 13. Musical America, LXXX, August, 1960, no. 9, 22.
  24. R T-U, May 26, 1962.
  25. MSAE, 46. RAR, XII (1951), no. 3, 13. R D&C, January 27, 1955, September 3, 1962.
  26. J. N. Pew, Jr., to Cornelis W. de Kiewiet, October 10, 1952. de Kiewiet Papers. de Kiewiet to Pew, January 27, 1956, August 10, 1956. Ibid. Report of the Committee on Religion, April 29, 1953. University Chaplain's File. Brief Historical Statement, March 29, 1962. Ibid.
  27. R D&C, May 15, 1954, May 16, 1954. R T-U, June 3, 1954, December 9, 1962.
  28. Cornelis W. de Kiewiet to Board of Trustees (draft), undated (evidently November, 1956.). de Kiewiet Papers. Faculty Minutes, January 14, 1960. Executive Committee Minutes, May 11, 1960, May 9, 1962.
  29. MSAR, B-12, 38. Faculty Minutes, June 7, 1962.
  30. MSAE, 48. The tragic killing of a University secretary, apparently the senseless result of a random shot fired from a passing car on River Boulevard, contributed to the sense of futility. Executive Committee Minutes, January 30, 1957.
  31. Executive Committee Minutes, November 8, 1961, December 14, 1961. Trustee Records, February 2, 1962, June 8, 1962, R T-U, January 9, 1962.