That's Carter, not Canter
In an otherwise perfect article on Memorial Chapel, President Davidson's first name looks strange. He and I both came to Union in 1946, I in beanie, he in magnificent robes. Some may have considered his walk a slow gallop, but nobody called it — or him — Canter. He spelled it Carter.
I enjoy all the stories about things I saw but never thought about. For your futures file: The cornerstone on the North College dorm contains some numbers and the letters “AZ.” I never noticed it until a ReUnion when an engineer said, “Look, it's the azimuth.”
Evan Richards '50
Albany, N.Y.
Don't forget chapel
Your fall magazine contains a most interesting article on the history of Memorial Chapel.
I would respectfully suggest that you failed to mention one former important part the chapel played in the lives of students. We were required to attend periodic chapel services. We were assigned exact and precise seats in the pews. Proctors with seating charts and binoculars in the balcony would check to see if we were present. Professor Tidmarsh, famous for his musical skills and great automobiles, was usually present. Along with other speakers, President Carter Davidson would have appropriate words for us near Thanksgiving or Christmas.
It may not have been required, but I recall wearing a jacket and tie on chapel days. Whenever I visit the chapel I always stand by the exact pew I was assigned.
William R. Washington '56
Schenectady
How to interrupt daily chapel
What a great job — format, content, the whole smear.
Of particular interest to me was the article about the Sig Phi painting. Mrs. Dixon Ryan Fox, for some reason, took us Sigs “under her (ample) wing,” and from some source came up with enough bucks to redecorate the first floor of the place in its entirety. Very nice mahogony, upholstered furniture. The results were the envy of the other houses. What a contrast with the present.
Also of real interest was the portion on Memorial Chapel. A daily convocation was at 10 a.m. (I think), with required attendance of a certain number each semester. Imagine one morning about 10:05 when a wind-up alarm clock sounded off from above. It had been secreted in one of the dish-shaped light fixtures hanging from the ceiling. There was nothing to do except stop the proceedings until Westclox was exhausted.
Elmer Tidmarsh was in charge of the College music program. His music appreciation course was immensely popular. The College had been given a Capehart automatic phonograph, together with a sizeable library of twelve-inch classical records, by the Carnegie Foundation. The Capehart was the only equipment that could be loaded with a stack of platters and then played consecutively after playing both sides in sequence (remember this was pre-everything we take for granted now). His classes were held in the chapel, and after the usual lecture the machine was loaded and each pupil had his chosen pew on which to lie and absorb the beauty of the sounds.
He was also an organist and wanted to have an echo organ. So he worked with some persons from electrical engineering and installed a microphone in the box containing the organ pipes that can be controlled for volume by opening and closing its shutters. Then he ran a wire to the balcony in the rear, where he put a speaker aimed down at the congregation. After playing a selection on the major part of the organ, he would then play a following portion on the enclosed pipes with the shutters closed, and the sound would only be audible coming from the rear speakers. He was very proud of his echo organ.
John Brand '39
Elmira, N.Y.
Movable portraits warm a winter night
The Memorial Chapel article in the fall magazine spawned a memory or two.
I believe it was January 1947 when Don O'Neil and I returned from Saratoga on a Saturday night-Sunday morning. No doubt we had been listening to Coleman B. Cheney expounding Marxism in his third-floor quarters at the home of Don's future mother-in-law.
The night was clear, bitter cold, wind blowing a gale from the northwest, and a full moon. We took shelter in the unlocked chapel. With the crisp moonlight flooding the pillars and pews, Don opened the manual and gave a soulful rendition of Beethoven's “Moonlight Sonata” on that wonderful organ.
We discussed the portraits of Union worthies adorning the walls upstairs and down. Does anyone know which picture hangs where? Is there a mastermind who knows why each has his special place? We set to work and moved portraits from above to below, and vice versa. Randomness was our goal. We left still pondering the question, which was answered a few hours later in Sunday chapel services. We were astounded! Each portrait was glaringly mocking us — each in his rightful place.
D. Wade Marsters '46
Strong, Maine
The start of Asian Studies
I have no wish to take any glory away from my friend and colleague, Donald Thurston, but wish to correct an error in a letter in a recent issue of Union College.
Clearly Asian studies was introduced at Union in the nineteenth century, otherwise how could we have sung about a “Sanskrit word or two-oo”? But seriously, Don Thurston, for all his talents, did not introduce modern Asian studies to the curriculum. That honor goes to Prof. James Morley, who preceded me in teaching Asian Studies at the College and went on to a distinguished career as Professor of Japanese History and Director of the East Asian Studies Institute at Columbia University.
Chinese language study was introduced while I was chair of the ad-hoc “Non-Western Studies Committee,” taught by the Rev. Stan Yin of the First Reformed Church. When that evening program didn't work out well, the College, jointly with SUNY-Albany, hired William Wu to teach Chinese full time. Don Thurston joined the faculty as my temporary replacement when I went on leave in 1966 — at least a year after Chinese was in the catalog — and stayed when I moved to Trinity College in 1969.
I might point out that the Non-Western Studies Committee enjoyed a grant from the Regents Research Fund to conduct a faculty seminar to “retool” us and to help us integrate non-western matter into the existing curriculum as well as providing for visiting scholars to be in residence for a week or so.
Asian Studies alone does not make the curriculum broad. We should include Latin American, African, and minority indigenous cultures in addition to Western civilization to make that happen.
Henry Ferguson '50
Associate Professor of History, 1957-1969
Loudonville, N.Y.
The current curriculum does indeed reflect some of Mr. Ferguson's concerns, with such formal interdepartmental programs as Africana Studies, East Asian Studies, Latin American and Caribbean Studies, and Russia and East Europe Studies. A number of departments offer non-western courses; examples include “Asian-American Literature,” “African-American Women Writers,” and “Introduction to Black Poetry” (English); terms abroad in Fiji and Barbados (Anthropology); “Reform and Revolution in Latin America and the Caribbean” and “The Glory and Fall of the Qing Empire” (History); “West African Oral Literature” and “Literature of the Hispanic Caribbean” (Modern Languages and Literatures); “Zen and Tibetan Buddhism” (Philosophy); “Middle East Politics,” “Pacific Rim Politics,” and “Wealth and Power Among Nations” (Political Science); and a term abroad in Kenya and “A Survey of Brazilian Society” (Sociology). — Editor
Remembering (with fondness) Hans Freund
I read your recent request for humorous stories about life at Union, and I have two, both concerning Herr Doktor Professor Hans Freund of the English Department.
I entered Union as a dewy-eyed freshman in the fall of 1975 and took a course called “The Bible as Literature” with Professor Freund. Although I don't recall the exact context, Professor Freund was talking about masculinity “then” as opposed to “now.” He had a noticeable Viennese accent, and at one point he said something which caused me to sit bolt upright. Striding vehemently up and down, Professor Freund said, “Now Hamlet vas a man! And ven Hamlet voot valk. His balls! Voot clank!” I suspect he did it on purpose to get our attention. In my case, at least, it certainly worked.
He was a marvelous professor and took my nascent interest in medieval history and fanned it into a lifelong interest when I took his course called “Art, Architecture, and Literature in the Middle Ages and Renaissance.” I still remember my thrill at reading Mont-Saint-Michel & Chartres by Henry Adams — and I still have that book.
My other story concerns his class on the Romantic poets Byron, Shelley, and Keats. My lack of enthusiasm for this course was not Professor Freund's fault. I took it my final trimester of my senior year, and I'm afraid I had graduation fever and a greater interest in the numerous spring frat parties than any intellectual endeavor. The fact that the class was held at 9 a.m. did not help my attendance. However, the class was fairly large, and I assumed that Professor Freund hadn't noticed my numerous absences.
I was friendly with a freshman who was also taking this class and having trouble with it. You can imagine my chagrin, not to mention a late-breaking concern for my final grade, when the freshman said the following to me shortly before the end of the term: “I told Professor Freund that I was having rtouble and he asked me if I knew anyone in the class who could help me. I told him I knew you but he said he didn't think that would do me much good since you weren't here much.”
I betook myself to the library and crammed for a week straight. I got a B in the course, no doubt out of the goodness of Professor Freund's heart, because in my heart I knew I didn't deserve it. However, he won the “war” because he made a contribution to my life that will never be forgotten.
Jan De Deka '79
Secaucus, N.J.
In the fall issue we asked readers if they would be willing to share a Union story — perhaps a recollection of a favorite professor or an anecdote about an out-of-classroom activity. If you do, please mail, fax, or e-mail your reminiscences to the magazine. We'd love to hear from you. Our addresses are:
Mail: Office of Communications, Union College, Schenectady, N.Y. 12308
Fax: 518-388-7092
E-mail: blankmap@union.edu