--The Daily Collegian
--September 8, 1957
So it began, a new Penn State academic year, and the Collegian was there as usual to mark it for the record.
3,500 of the new arrivals were freshmen, the class of ’62. The Collegian welcomed them to campus, but with reservation.
“To be truthful and blunt,” the Collegian editor wrote in the paper’s lead editorial that day, “we just don’t know whether you’re what we want. We hope and think you are, but you must prove it…It’s you, not the 16,000 other students who are Penn State…Whatever you are, whatever you do reflects not only on yourself, but on Penn State.”
The Collegian, itself, was entering its 53rd year of publication. It would be a year of change and a year of contention for the newspaper, yet its mission remained constant:
“This newspaper will pursue its duty as it sees fit” the Board of Editors proclaimed in a policy statement entitled, “For a Better Penn State: “To find, write and produce the news with maximum truthfulness and sincerity of purpose and without bias, prejudice or hope of gain, even if it knows that at times, readers would prefer not to face the truth.”
Aside from the inauguration of Dr. Eric Walker in October as the University’s 12th president, there was nothing, either on the scene or on the horizon, to set the start of this new academic term apart from any of its immediate predecessors.
G. C. Murphy Co. still was advertising “the best value in college clothes” (tee shirts, 79 cents; jockey briefs, 59 cents; the latest in Ivy League caps, 98 cents to $1.79, and chino sanforized pants with buckle back, $3.95); and the “best value in college needs” (easy-to-handle notebooks, 29 cents; scotch tape, 15-to-39 cents; clipboards, 42 cents and goose neck desk lamps, regular $2.98, selling for $1.99).
For Orientation Week entertainment options, students had the choice of Cary Grant, Frank Sinatra and Sophia Loren in “Pride and the Passion” at the State Theatre; “Women of Rome” starring Gina Lollabrigida at the Nittany; and Jane Russell in “Fuzzy Pink Nightgown” at the Cathaum—a veritable trifecta of Hollywood bombshell pulchritude in one place for one audience at one time.
Nationally, a federal judge in Little Rock ordered that Central High School in Arkansas must integrate immediately; James Hoffa was elected president of the Teamsters Union only to have his election enjoined by a federal judge; and those beloved “Bums” of Flatbush, the Brooklyn Dodgers, announced they would be moving to Los Angeles for the 1958 baseball season.
To start, the pace of University life and the culture of the University community seemed very routine. The seventh annual Student Encampment (started in 1951 under Milton Eisenhower) produced a recommendation that seniors, juniors and sophomores “no longer be penalized for cutting classes,” no great surprise there.
H. Eugene Goodwin, a former reporter with the Washington Star, became the new director of the School of Journalism, succeeding I. W. Cole who resigned to become Dean at Northwestern University’s prestigious Medill School of Journalism.
Ewing Hall opened as a dormitory for women.
And the Penn State football team, coached by Rip Engle, was ranked 3rd in the East and 20th in the Nation (19 spots below Number One Oklahoma.)
But if normalcy seemed to be the order of the day as the Fall semester settled in for classes, it would not remain so for long. In fairly short order, in rapid- fire sequence, a series of tragic and troubling events staggered the campus and brought grief, pain and dislocation to the student body, the faculty and the University community as a whole for much of the year.
It began in late September, less than three weeks after the start of the semester, when a junior in civil engineering from Binghamton, NY, was killed after falling into a sunken patio at Pi Kappa Alpha and fracturing his skull about 1 AM on his way back to Delta Chi fraternity house. (Authorities later ruled the death accidental, non-alcohol related.)
Three days later, six freshmen were injured when a 15-foot Blue Band director’s stand toppled on them following the annual Tug-of-War on the (now old) University Golf Course. Six were hospitalized, one with a concussion.
Two weeks later, a freshman from Drexel Hill (George Larry Sharp) was paralyzed when he broke his neck in a spill from a trampoline during gym class in Recreation Hall. (The relief fund established by the student body to defer young Sharp’s medical expenses would approach $5,000 before the year was out, but was to become a major source of controversy between the All-University (student) Cabinet and The Collegian.)
October 23--a sophomore in geology and mineralogy from New Bethlehem, a transfer from Clarion State College, died in Centre County Hospital from pneumonia complicated by toxic anemia.
One month later—a graduate student in mineral preparation is killed in an automobile accident 15 miles west of Altoona while driving home to Barnesboro.
Two days later, November 21, a University freshman from Allentown withdraws $289 from his bank accounts in State College and at home and is reported missing by his roommate. (His Grandfather receives an anonymous telephone call a week later informing him the young man had enlisted in the military.)
Thanksgiving Break, a 7th semester senior from Philadelphia on a student teaching assignment in Mechanicsburg, PA, dies of coal gas poisoning in her Camp Hill living unit.
Two days later, a partially decomposed infant’s body is found behind the Nittany Lion Inn. (A 27-year-old State College woman unassociated with the University is arrested and charged with abandonment and murder.)
Mid-December—State Police launch a search for a freshman coed who left campus abruptly leaving a note she was going to hunt for a job. (The search ends three days later when she telephones home from Denver, CO, where she was staying with an uncle.)
Christmas vacation--Robert “Red” Worrell, a promising freshman football player, is electrocuted three days before Christmas while helping his father install a TV antenna behind the family home in Washington County.
And Jim Snyder, the very likeable and most able sports editor of the Centre Daily Times, is killed in an auto accident en route to a family visit in Lock Haven.
January 10, 1958—a junior from New Castle is killed in yet another auto accident, this one at 1:30 AM, four miles east of State College, returning from Bellefonte. The driver, a senior from Altoona, loses his right eye in the aftermath of the mishap.
January 23—the student death toll reaches seven when a sophomore in electrical engineering is killed in an auto crash near his Deposit, NY, home.
Just weeks later, in February, two prominent faculty members, both in their 50’s, die within days of each other. Dr. George Leffler, assistant dean of Research and director of Planning in the College of Business Administration, dies in Philadelphia Presbyterian Hospital at age 59. Joseph F. O’Brien, professor of public speaking and coach of the men’s debate team for almost 30 years, dies in Centre County Hospital at age 54.
February 29--30 members of Delta Theta Sigma fraternity are forced to flee their building in frigid temperatures and move to temporary housing in Pollock Circle dorms by a fire which gutted their house. (Damages were set at $30,000).
Finally, in March, when most every one thought the anguish might be over, a senior in education from Cheltenham suffered a fractured skull in still another auto mishap on her way home for the weekend. (Fortunately, her condition quickly was elevated to satisfactory status after surgery to relieve pressure on her brain.)
Oh yes, lest we forget:
Just good measure, a 1954 graduate from Altoona was held in $1,500 bail in Independence, MO, on charges of carrying a concealed weapon and attempting unsuccessfully to enter the home of former President Harry S. Truman. (He told authorities he wanted to enlist the former president’s assistance in securing a federal job, and was carrying the weapon as protection for the $600 he had on his possession at the time.)
Much of what else transpired that academic year paled by comparison.
On schedule, Dr. Walker formally was installed as University President calling in his Inaugural Address for more independent study, courses by examination only and more individual performance by students as a way to challenge students’ “full potential and help conserve the valuable time and increased productivity of our faculties.”
Collegian praised the promise of his presidency this way: “He’s a man who wants to make Penn State into a great University.”
For the Collegian, change came early. The contention and controversy were to follow. .
First, the change: In October, the paper ended the practice of signed editorials and reduced editorial space from a half-page width to a mere two columns. “The paper accepts responsibility for what it says,” the paper’s Board of Editors explained on the first count. “Too many editorials were written to fill space,” it added on the second.
(But not the one, I should add, that I wrote, much to the consternation of my fraternity brethren and associates, when I departed my normal sports venue to urge editorially an end to the fraternity practice of Hell Week. “Hell Week is unnecessary…it accomplishes nothing,” I reasoned. “Train the pledge properly and he’ll become a worthy brother. Hell Week will never make him into a man.” Collegian arrived at the same conclusion institutionally six months later.)
Next the contention, with All-University Cabinet as the foil. “Student Government, if it is to be effective, must begin thinking into the future for thinking in the present is often too late,” the paper chided editorially early in the semester in challenging the body to think less in lock step with the University Administration.
When Cabinet voted by only a narrow 14-10 margin to seek a three-day extension of the Christmas break to avoid travel back to State College in the shadow of New Year’s Day, the Collegian took the 10 dissenting members to task for “worrying more about University reaction than student opinion. Speculation on Administration decisions should have no effect on Cabinet action.”
There were two specific campus issues which engaged the paper’s prolonged attention: compulsory ROTC and drinking privileges for University coeds over the age of 21.
The paper called compulsory ROTC “the hottest issue to hit campus this year.” The subject was joined with a recommendation from the Senate Committee on Education Policy to establish a two-year program for men and women in a School of Military Affairs and Civilian Defense in the College of Liberal Arts. The Liberal Arts Student Council promptly adopted a resolution in opposition and asked All-University Cabinet to do likewise.
The Collegian ran what started out as a five part series on the subject. It ultimately grew into an unprecedented 18 parts. All-University Cabinet scheduled an early December debate on the issue. The day of the debate, Collegian came down squarely in opposition to compulsory ROTC, editorializing in a rare front-page commentary: “Let’s stop wasting student time and government money, and get something really effective—a voluntary program to produce more enthusiastic officers and better specialists.”
All-University Cabinet postponed the scheduled debate and set up a ROTC study committee, instead. President Walked proclaimed himself neutral on the subject. Just before Christmas break, All-University Cabinet voted 18-6 to support compulsory ROTC.
On the Women Student Government Association’s drive to permit coeds over 21 to drink without threat of University sanction, the Collegian wrote: “Amid all the furor about self-responsibility and treating students as adults, the University is clenching a most undemocratic regulation—that of not allowing women 21 years of age to drink.” University policy ultimately was changed, an action The Collegian hailed editorially.
The Collegian also took on a campaign to have the University Board of Trustees open its meetings to the public and the press.
In a piece labeled “Collegian Public Affairs Analysis” under the headline: “The State University? Just When Advantageous,” the paper wrote: “Although legally a private institution, the University has many times claimed the protections and privileges of a State University when it has benefited to do so. Thus, the University is private ‘de jure’ and a state agency ‘de facto.’”
All-University Cabinet, in March, voted 19-4 against requesting the Board to even “consider open meetings.” Truth is, there might have been some “pay-back” motivation to the vote.
Tension between the Collegian and All-University Cabinet had been festering for much of the year, but in March it broke out into full-faced hostility.
Collegian Editor Ed Dubbs, a member but no pal of the Cabinet, kicked the conflict off when he questioned $150 in expenses turned in belatedly by the All-University President Robert Steele and a traveling Cabinet associate for their trip to New York to present Larry Sharp with a $2,500 check for his Relief Fund.
Noting the two student travelers visited Sharp on Friday afternoon but did not return to campus until Sunday, Collegian labeled the trip “a junket” and wrote in a blistering editorial: “Apparently they did not attempt to cut costs…They lived it up--$42 in meals (that’s eating well); $8 in tips (they’re college students?); $9 in taxi fares (maybe buses were on strike?) and $46.30 for the plane trip home (buses and trains were in operation).” Not much by today’s economic standards, perhaps, but something of a big deal 45 years ago.
All-University Cabinet responded three days later in a special meeting convened by President Steele. He called the decision to stay Saturday and Saturday night in New York “a mistake in judgment.” It was not a “malicious” decision on his part, he explained repentfully, but a “normal and natural inclination to stay over one night.” He added: “I’m afraid I failed to live up to my responsibilities. In my position, this is not allowed.”
Cabinet, however, was more forgiving of Steele than he was of himself. It voted unanimously (with three abstentions, including The Collegian editor) endorsing and expressing confidence in “the actions and judgments of our All-University president.”
Three days later came the resounding Cabinet vote against open Trustee meetings. In the words of one Cabinet member, “If the Trustees meeting should be open, so should the Collegian Senior Board since almost 50 per cent of Collegian’s money” comes from students. “Touché,” I think the expression goes. Or is it just, “Ouch”?
The rift between the paper and student government grew so wide that the new Senior Board, led by Editor Bob Franklin, declined the editor’s traditional seat on All-University cabinet and membership in the secret senior men’s society, Lion’s Paw.
“Only in maintaining complete independence from outside influence and participating in policy making responsibility can Collegian most effectively fulfill its obligation as a free newspaper—free to praise or blame on merit alone, and to work responsibly for a Better Penn State,” the paper’s Senior Board proclaimed collectively. There was no dissent, published or otherwise, from All-University Cabinet, new or old.
There were also these footnotes to the year as recorded by the Collegian:
Ø What started as a minor bout with the Asian flu in September turned into near epidemic proportions in a month’s time with 3,000 students hospitalized or treated by mid-October. Space at the University Hospital became so overcrowded that students had to be bedded in the hospital’s waiting room and hallways.
Ø The football team finished the year with a 6-3 record. A 14-13 loss to Pitt in the last game of the season took them out of consideration for a Gator Bowl bid. Assistant Coach Joe Paterno confirmed, however, the Lions were invited to play in the annual Cigar Bowl in Tampa, FA, but declined because “no suitable opponent was on the horizon.” Hours later, the Cigar Bowl itself was cancelled by event sponsors (never to be heard from again) because “we were unable to attract two major college elevens and didn’t want to put on a game with small college teams.”
Ø The Board of Trustees approved in principle a 12-year plan to expand enrollment on the University Park Campus to 25,000. President Walked called the projected expansion “conservative.”
Ø In the aftermath of the Larry Sharp accident, the University made a voluntary health insurance plan available to students. 1,200 signed up almost immediately at premiums ranging between $8 and $10 depending upon which of three coverage options was selected.
Ø A cold snap gripped the campus in mid-February with the temperature registering 2 degrees above zero. It was the warmest place in Centre County where, in the tiny community of Clarence, the temperature dropped to 18 degrees below zero. A couple of days later, the temperature dropped to 3 degrees below zero throughout Centre County.
Ø Jerry West, who was to go on to a Hall-of-Fame professional basketball career with the Los Angeles Lakers, and his second-ranked West Virginia Mountaineers paid a mid-February visit to the campus. West and Company narrowly escaped Rec Hall with a 74-71 win. West scored 24 points.
It was, all in all, quite a year. When Winter broke and Spring arrived, an estimated 1,000 male students staged the first raid on a University women’s dormitory in five years. Four of the offending males were charged with reckless conduct. 40 of the 73 women living in the dorm were placed on disciplinary probation by the Dean of Women for “abetting” in the raid.
At last, if but for only a moment, normalcy (at least as defined in collegiate terms) had returned to this one troubled college campus.
# # # # #
Copyright (c) 2008VPC, L.L.C.