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Gertrud Inabinet
Now the ticklin into his flanks, the chokin roun'his naik, an' the steel trap sprung ontu his tail, did discumfort'im pow'ful. He jis' mizzild. Every fewjumps, he'd giv a hurried hurtin short beller, an' kickbof heels es hi es he cud; but ole Burns wer thar, stillthar. By golly, golly, he wer grow'd thar. He struckthe river at a pint whar the bluff wer sixty feet high,abuv warter thuty foot deep. Durn'd ef ever he tho'teven ove measurin hit, but jis' loped over head down,an' ove course the ole man wer gwine tail down. Jis'es soon es he seed the warter onder 'im, quick es a catagin, he sot in tu climbin the tail, overhandid; but hitwarn't eny use, George, fur they bof went outen site,jis' bustin the river plum open. The las' part gwineonder wer one ove Burns's hans a-huntin roun' furmore tail tu climb. I never seed sich waves in theOconee afore ur since, an' the bluff wer wet tu the top,an' draps ove warter wer fallin off the cedars on hitsbrow.
The hollerin stage ove the disease now struck him,so he roar'd one good year-quiverin roar, an' riz threefoot inside the doggery door, an' lit nine more out inthe mud, sploshin hit all over the winders, tuther sidethe street. He hed a dried venerson ham in one han, an'a ten-year old he nigger by hits gallus-crossin in tuther.He waved fus' the nigger en' then the venerson over hishead, steppin short an' high, like ontu a brine hoss, anlookin squar atwixt his shoe-heels, wif his shouldershump'd hi up. Sez he,
The post-war years witnessed the biggest University construction enterprises and real estate transactions since the occupation of the River Campus in 1930. First in line was a naval science building, erected to the south of Rhees Library and called Harkness Hall in memory of Rear-Admiral William Harkness of the famous University class of 1858. On the exterior the three-storied structure conformed to standard River Campus architecture. Laid out like a ship, the hall contained offices and classrooms, a naval library, a practice range, navigation instruments, and in the basement equipment to teach naval tactics; the top floor was not put to immediate use. Rising prices pushed the cost of the building and equipment to fifty percent above the original estimates, and despite prolonged negotiations the Navy Department refused to bear part of the expense. As the climax of the dedicatory exercises in June of 1946, the NROTC staged a gala military ball. 1
The ill-starred adventure in electrical engineering necessitated the construction of a two-story wing on the south end of what became Gavett Hall. Finished in October, 1947, it had faculty offices, computing and class rooms, a shop, and a large library. That year enrollment in all branches of engineering swept past the 400 mark, almost twice as large as before the war.
To carry on advanced instruction and research in physics, Bausch and Lomb Hall was substantially expanded (1946). But more exciting by far was the construction of a giant cyclotron or atom-smasher for research in nuclear physics on the southeastern rim of the campus; reportedly this huge 250 million volt monster was the second most powerful in existence. It was largely paid for by the United States Navy Department, which was likewise responsible for operating expenses. The University contributed two buildings to the complex, built in a small ravine where the embankment formed a radiation shield; to haul in the heavy research equipment a short, temporary standard gauge railway track was laid down. After two and a half years of building, the cyclotron went (1949) into operation in the presence of a company of distinguished guests with Lee A. DuBridge, then president of the California Institute of Technology, as the principal speaker. 2
Meantime, the University had allied (1946) with eight other eastern universities in forming the Associated Universities, Inc. to manage vast, government-financed laboratories established at Brookhaven on Long Island for basic research in nuclear science.
Following lengthy debate, the trustees authorized the erection of a five-story extension on the northern end of Lattimore Hall. Work space was provided for eight senior staff members and about fifty graduate students or post-doctoral fellows engaged in investigations inorganic or physical chemistry. A specialized library was installed on the top floor, and there the editorial offices of the Journal of the American Chemical Society, the most widely circulated publication of its kind, were eventually located.
Far the greater cost of the construction and equipment of the new wing, which as usual soared well beyond expectations, was borne by industrial firms and individuals who mostly chose to remain anonymous. Ceremonies of dedication were conducted on October 25, 1949, in connection with a meeting of the National Academy of Sciences, an elite society of 450 to which Dean George H. Whipple and Professor Wallace O. Fenn of the Medical Center and chemist W. Albert Noyes, Jr., then belonged. 3
Dining and housing facilities for the greatly enlarged River Campus' student population raised acute problems. Thanks to a subsidy from the New York State government, extensive alterations were made (1946) in Todd Union, the former bookstore, for instance, being converted into a bakeshop (the bookstore found a temporary haven in the basement of Rhees Library) and subsequently a new kitchen and a cafeteria were provided. These improvements came in the wake of angry undergraduate complaints about the dining service. Enumerating no less than eight types of criticism, Dean Wilder commented, "Food service in a college dining hall is a perennial problem. Right now it is aggravated by the high prices of both raw food and labor." On the advice of an ad hoc student committee, five hearty (masculine) dinners a week were planned at a cost of four dollars, and when that failed to satisfy the price was scaled down to $3.25. Not long afterward, the dining situation having deteriorated, if anything, Wilder received a notable communication, "It's enough to make a saint swear! Prices are fantastic--men eat in their own rooms for a third of what dining in Todd costs. Frustration, dissatisfaction, and mistrust are rife," and the allegations were amply documented. A drastic shakeup in the Todd managerial staff and accelerated service soothed protestants markedly. 4
Notwithstanding the congestion in the dormitories--two men occupying rooms intended for one--a few; University School students were assigned rooms and the Faculty Club was restored in the west end of Burton Hall. State aid financed a slight enlargement of living space in the Stadium Dormitory, and the national government stepped in with money to alleviate the housing headache. The Federal Public Housing Authority (1946) allocated funds to build two makeshift T-shaped structures to accommodate about 145 single war veterans, to the north of the existing dormitories, and to lay out a similar housing complex for married veterans, their wives and babies, on a Lattimore Road tract southwest of Helen Wood Hall; administrative officers kept saying that more permanent residence halls were urgently needed. The River Campus "barracks" with their thin walls were noisy, making study and sleeping difficult, and protests were registered almost daily. In 1950 the trustees agreed that drawings should be prepared for additional dormitories, and recreation lounges were blocked out in Burton and Crosby Halls.
Delayed by shortage of plumbing and other supplies, the family units--over eighty of them--on the Lattimore Road area were not fully ready for occupancy until 1948, and they served their purpose until demolished in 1953. Tenants liked the low rent, set out trees in the name of beautification, and cultivated vegetable gardens. Demand for quarters, however, far outstripped the supply; of some 250 married undergraduates only about thirty-five obtained lodgings at University Village, or, as it was dubbed, "The Mud Flats." Appeals went out to Rochester homeowners to rent idle rooms to student veterans and their families. 5
Acute housing shortages bore heavily upon faculty newcomers and staff technicians, but their plight was eased by the development of University Park on a thirteen acre parcel of ground south of the Medical Center near the Barge Canal. By agreement with the University, which sold it the land, a corporation of seven banks--one of them the Community Savings Bank of Rochester--undertook to construct an apartment complex of 184 permanent dwelling units of one or two bedrooms on an investment of around $1,500,000. Completed in 1949, preference in tenancy was reserved for families connected in some way with the University. It is a pity that no one proffered a suggestion to investigate the possibility of acquiring and rehabilitating the old United States Hotel on West Main Street, the first home of the University, for young faculty couples or graduate students. 6
Simultaneously, essential repairs were made to the original River Campus structures, restoring them to their pre-war condition. An under- graduate petition for an interdenominational chapel opposite Strong Auditorium and a request by outside interests to use the Auditorium as a non-profit summer theatre--a recurrent idea--were turned down by University officers. Expansion of physical properties made (1948) necessary a big increase in the capacity of the heating plant and major extensions of the - electrical network. At long last, too, the dangerous approach to the River Campus along the River Boulevard (from the north) was rectified; an S-curve sufficiently wide for only two cars and winding beneath two railway bridges was eliminated (1950), and the roadway was broadened to four lanes with only a single gentle bend. 7
Since the enlarged immediate postwar registration exceeded the capacity of River Campus facilities, the University negotiated (1946) a contract with the Rochester Board of Education to rent six classrooms, lounging areas for students and teachers, and space for a small reference library at the Madison High School, across the Genesee about two miles away from the campus. There for two years approximately one hundred freshmen who resided in Rochester or who obtained rooms in the city were taught standard first- year academic subjects. For physical education they repaired to the campus where they were eligible to take part in the extracurriculum; eyebrows were arched when men at the "Madison Annex" captured four of the five freshmen class offices! 8
At the other extreme of Rochester, Eastman House, the presidential home, passed (1947) out of the ownership of the University, a possibility envisaged in the will of the Kodak philanthropist. In 1944, on Valentine's recommendation the trustees agreed that the mansion should soon cease to be the executive residence. Various projects for the use of the property had their partisans; a Methodist pastor, for instance, inquired whether the estate could be bought for the future site of a sanctuary and others recommended that it be converted into a dormitory for graduate students, or a University language house, or headquarters of the Honors Division. It was also suggested that the property might become the center of a University department of photography to train students for medical and educational vocations. Like the other proposals, this one failed of adoption (an established Columbia University course in photography had attracted very few students), yet the idea contained the germ of the ultimate solution. 9
A special trustee committee was instructed (1946) to confer with Kodak executives on a plan to convert the East Avenue property into a living, permanent memorial to George Eastman, to take the form of a museum of the history of photography, an international center to exhibit the art and science of photography in all its phases. Consultations produced an agreement turning the estate over to a new organization, the George Eastman House, Incorporated, to be managed by a joint board drawn from the Kodak Company, which agreed to renovate and maintain the property, and from the University trustees. The University retained the furnishings, including a collection of paintings and rugs with an inventory value exceeding $1.2 million. Disposal of the property freed for University educational purposes the income from the $2 million maintenance fund provided in the Eastman will. 10
The decision on the Eastman property raised the question of a home for the University president. Several East Avenue possibilities were considered, and the Babcock residence, cornering on Berkeley Street, was finally chosen. Though smaller than the Eastman mansion, of course, it none the less was a commodious red brick dwelling of the townhouse style of architecture popular at the turn of the century. At much greater expense than had been anticipated, the Babcock property was fitted up for presidential occupancy and furniture was moved over from the Eastman House. Since the Babcock residence had been willed to the Eastman School, the School was compensated by the allocation of additional scholarship funds.
Valentine was happy over the prospect of moving into a home "more in keeping with the academic way of life," as he said, half in jest, half in earnest, at the inauguration of the photographic museum on November 9, 1949, "No other member of my impoverished profession ever lived so magnificently so long...In these days no socially conscious person could enjoy such private splendor without a sense of guilt." However, the younger Valentine daughter dissented and publicly protested the prospective loss of a piano and a pool for goldfish. Paternal promises promptly assuaged her anguish. 11
On the east side of Rochester, too, the property at 11 Prince Street, adjacent to the offices of the University central administration, was conveyed (1951) to the University by James Sibley Watson, Jr. The large University athletic field at Culver Road and Main Street, scene of sporting events from 1917 until the opening of the River Campus, which had been leased in 1940 to Montgomery Ward & Company for a store, returned to the University when the lease was terminated (1950) by mutual agreement. The trustees considered selling the land for a large housing development, but no decision was actually reached at the time. In the heart of the city, the City Hall Annex, entrusted to the University by the George Eastman will, was deeded to the municipal government fulfilling Eastman's wish, as the site of a Civic War Memorial. 12
By 1947 University library resources had grown to over 464,000 titles, a gain of fifty percent in a decade. To keep friends of the library acquainted with special collections, current donations, and the like, a University of Rochester Library Bulletin first appeared in November of 1945, and the useful Fortnightly Bulletin , listing acquisitions, was discontinued. Aside from purchases, resources were enlarged by gifts; including the fine C. Schuyler Davis collection of books for children and annual donations by the family and friends of the late Hiram Olsan, class of 1905, to buy rare books for the Treasure Room. On the other side of the ledger, the R. B. Adam collection on Samuel Johnson, housed in Rhees Library for a dozen years, was removed (1948) upon purchase by a bibliophile.
Very significant was the growth of collections of original papers having historical importance. The Thurlow Weed collection, deposited in 1936, was given to the University outright, and the descendants of Schuyler Colfax, vice-president of the United States under Ulysses S. Grant, presented a sheaf of his papers, and those of the James S. Wadsworth family of Geneseo were obtained on microfilm. But the major acquisition was the personal papers and related documentary materials of William Henry Seward bequeathed (1951) to the University by his grandson, William Henry Seward, 3rd., of Auburn, New York. A key personality in mid-nineteenth century American politics, Seward had served, successively as governor of New York, United States senator, and secretary of state in the cabinets of Lincoln and Andrew Johnson. Eagerly sought by many institutions, the Seward collection approached 150,000 items, many of them reposing in trunks and boxes for nearly a century and never examined by historians. Quite accurately, President Valentine called the acquisition "one of the most important events in the hundred year history of the library." This treasure was placed in a special Seward Room of Rhees Library, and thereafter scholars engaged in research on "The Middle Period" of American history had to place Rochester on their-itinerary. 13
Meantime, University authorities tried to secure the public papers of New York Governors Thomas E. Dewey and Alfred E. Smith, of James E. Farley, a powerful figure in the Democratic party and at one time Postmaster- General of the United States, and of lesser politicians of New York State. Eventually the Dewey collection was given to the University, but the others eluded all overtures, and the same was true of the papers of Bernard Baruch, legendary financier and counselor of presidents, and of Wendell Willkie, Republican presidential aspirant in 1940 (Papers and memorabilia of Democrats-for-Willkie were, however, deposited in the Library). Over the years various donors presented to the University large numbers of rare coins, which warranted (1949) the appointment of an honorary curator of the holdings. Librarian John R. Russell never ceased reminding the trustees and administrators of the deficiencies and overcrowding in Rhees Library, owing to the much larger body of undergraduate and graduate students and to the accelerating pace of book acquisitions. Reading rooms were congested and a huge increase in book circulation laid heavy burdens upon the staff, which at one point was smaller than before the war.
Students responded in a gratifying manner to weekly Coffee Hours in the Welles-Brown Room, initiated in 1945. After a modest collation, a University teacher or another competent person reviewed a book or discussed a current public issue or an exciting idea, and then the hour-long meeting was thrown open for an informal interchange between auditors and speaker. When it was discovered that books that required binding could be done more cheaply by commercial firms, the library bindery, in operation for eighteen years, closed (1948) down. 14
II
Towering over all other aspects of University life beside the Genesee between 1945 and 1951 was "the Battle of the Bulge," the inrush of students, certain implications (and complications) of which have previously been related. Taking the University as a whole, enrollment soared to 6,420 in the autumn of 1946 as against a comparable 5,620 before the war; full time learners numbered 3,834 (1,854 of them veterans) in contrast to 2,390. The next year the total reached 6,885, of whom more than 4,000 were full time, and in 1950 a record figure of 9,444 was reported with 4,284 full time decline then set in. 15
At the College for Men a formidable 6, 000 inquiries in 1945-1946 concerning admission burgeoned to 10,000 the following year, while interviews with applicants jumped to more than 1,000. As in the past, admissions officers focused on candidates who had achieved high ranking in their previous education, youths who were emotionally stable, willing to study, potential leaders, who promised to prove a credit to their Alma Mater. In the case of first-.year applicants a slight relaxation in traditional standards, was permitted; that is, they would be evaluated (1947) on the basis: of three instead of three and a half years of secondary schooling, together with their scores on College Board tests.
Male undergraduates numbered 1,217 in the autumn of 1946 (the pre-war peak, it may be recalled, was just under 700), climbed to an all-time high of 1,364 two years later, and in 1950 slipped back to 1,054. Actually, in the preceding year the nation-wide tidal wave had so far declined that colleges resumed the pre-war practice of recruiting students, and Rochester revived (1948) University Day When prospective applicants were entertained. With the coming of the Korean war (1950), it looked as though the armed forces would again make deep inroads into the student body; in fact, undergraduates doing satisfactory academic work were deferred to June, 1951, and premedical and predental students were accorded indefinite deferment.
The University record for the greatest number of members of a single family in college at the same time was broken in 1948 when six children of W. Robert Neel, non-graduate 1906; and his daughter-in-law and a son-in-law were in attendance; five of them received bachelor's diplomas in 1949, possibly a national record for the number of graduating students in a single class from one family. 16
Students originating in foreign lands enhanced the multi-textured makeup of the college body; in the year 1948, forty-eight students came from twenty-one countries, Canada supplying the biggest delegation, China a close second. At one time or another in the late 1940's, France and the Netherlands, West Germany and Austria, Greece and Norway all had sons or daughters at the U. of R. and no doubt they benefited their undergraduate mates quite as much as the other way around.
In the Honors Division enrollment (men and women), standing at eighteen in 1945, virtually doubled in the ensuing five years, along with a small quota of undergraduates and master's candidates who signed up for a single seminar. To acquaint prospective entrants with the working of the honors they were invited to attend seminar sessions.
Men released from the armed forces, a fair proportion of whom had commenced their collegiate training at Rochester, were responsible for the upsurge in registration shortly after hostilities ended. Except for those disabled in combat for whom the government made special provision, veterans benefited from the G.I. Bill which assured them of the costs of tuition and subsistence subsidies--$65 for single men and $90 for the married--slender enough in either case. Veterans formed approximately eighty percent of the undergraduates in 1946 and fifty-eight percent in 1948, but shrank to twenty-three percent in 1950. For certain purposes undergraduates were classified in three categories: veterans, men in the NROTC:, and "civilians." 17
It has earlier been pointed out that the University devised careful plans before the fighting stopped, to educate veterans. An office for veteran's affairs was set up in Dewey Hall, and a President's Advisory Council for Veterans contained two delegates from each division of the University in which men were enrolled.
Representative of the Rochester men who came back from the war was John M. ("Jack") Keil, who entered with the class of 1944, becoming a popular campus personality, and received his diploma in 1946. A bombardier-navigator out of a base in southern Italy, he was accorded many military distinctions. Comparing the college he knew before the war with the college after the conflict, Keil wrote, "In regard to studies, the majority of veterans who have returned to continue their interrupted college careers have found it difficult to concentrate on studying outside of the class room...The war-weary student is older, more mature, takes his studies more seriously...The ex-G.I. has found his courses more interesting. World history seems to come alive..." (This observation was wholly true for Keil himself, who in his last semester read omnivorously on Yugoslavia and Marshal Josip Tito for an independent course with the present writer.)
As for the veterans who were newcomers to the campus, Keil went on, "The going is undoubtedly harder for them than for one who has already had a sense of college life and knows what to expect. Scholastically speaking, the returned veteran seems to be making out all right, but in regard to extra-curricular activities it is a little different story.... The veteran looks at college as an academic gold mine...but his extracurricular college life is impaired by outside responsibilities, a lack. of unity in the " student body, and a resulting lack of spirit in activities..." It might have been mentioned that for many a veteran activities outside of classes and study consisted of feeding and changing the baby (or babies) or of a job to eke out the G.I. educational benefits and modest family allowance.
Measured by classroom performance, the veterans almost uniformly came off better than undergraduates who had not been in the national service and better than their prewar counterparts. A historian was heard to say that veterans kept him on his toes, because "Today, history is very real to the G.I. students...they have made history themselves..."18
When the student population turned downward, and faced with the prospect of further decline in the 1950's, a University spokesman dismissed as folly the proposal to open a college-level institution in Rochester, financed by the state; as an alternative it was countered that the state government should increase scholarship grants and permit the recipients to select the institution they preferred. Administrative officers devoted considerable thought to the optimum number of, undergraduates that might be trained on the River Campus without becoming so impersonal as to reduce the individual learner to irrelevance. It seems that Valentine held unwaveringly to an estimate of 1,000, but other policymakers thought in terms of as many as 1,250 with an entering class of around 365.
Ably led by Captain George C. T owner, commanding officer into 1948, the Naval Officers' Training Corps was established on firm foundations. At the outset the unit counted 362 trainees, mostly former V-12 men from the Rochester contingent, the remainder transfers from other colleges; as candidates completed their studies, enrollment shrank (1948) to 180 and, then stabilized at about 150. Instruction in naval science was cut from thirty-six to twenty-four hours, supplemented by weekly drill on Saturday morning and technical training on summer cruises, usually with a University officer or faculty member as a guest observer.
Student initiative produced (1947) a six-page mimeographed paper, Stand-By, which contained pointers for midshipmen, little essays, cartoons, jokes, an occasional book review, or "A Word from the Captain." (Apparently, the sheet hibernated from 1949 through 1951.) an NROTC club, originally called Bourrelot (part of an armor piercing projectile) arranged parties, dances, and a yearly "open house" at Harkness Hall. During an annual review, prizes provided through the Rochester Council, Navy League of the United States, were awarded for excellence in various phases of NROTC training.
Backed by Navy authorities in Washington, President Valentine assumed the initiative in forming an association of the presidents of institutions that had NROTC units; conferences were organized to encourage uniformity in conducting the work of the NROTC. 19
When the U.S. Air Force broached the question of establishing a reserve corps at Rochester, the administration, feeling that the NROTC was as much as could be handled properly, replied in the negative. Presently, however, the attitude changed, and, supported by overwhelmingly favorable polls of the college faculty and the undergraduates, application for a unit was made. Early in 1951, an AFROTC unit was officially authorized to commence operations in the autumn of that year; technical training would about equal that required of the NROTC. 20
III
Enrollment at the College for Women soared to a peak of 655 (658) in September of 1947, then declined to 570 three years later. Thanks to generous scholarship assistance, the proportion of Princesses from outside of metropolitan Rochester came to exceed half of all students as against an eighth just after the war. In spite of transportation hardships, an increasing number of women elected advanced courses on, the River Campus, especially in science. It was no novelty, though, for Valentine to lament, as lament he did, "This inter-campus teaching problem is one I have not been able to lick in fifteen years; indeed, it has nearly licked me." 21
The huge jump in registration at the University School, which used many of the Women's College buildings, provoked chronic complaints about congestion (and noise) in Sibley Library, in Cutler Union, and the book store; parking turned into an endless nightmare, especially when evening classes were in session. Student requests resulted in more illumination on the campus the overdue redecoration of Anderson Hall, and a new snack bar in Cutler Union--"cokes" a nickel and hamburgers fifteen cents.
To alleviate overcrowding in living quarters, Munro Hall was rearranged (1946) to take care of twenty-two more students; occupants assigned to fifth floor rooms were obliged to climb eighty-six steps to what they tagged "The Pant House." The possibility of quartering about ten "quiet, ladylike girls" in the Valentine home was examined, but discarded. Plans to erect new buildings at Prince Street were held up by the suggestion that a projected New York State Thruway might traverse University Avenue; trustees registered vigorous protests in Albany against that route.
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