 . . . Summer 2000
Little Brown Jug mystery solved
ALUMNA MAJORIE Killins Bentley was reading about the history of the Little Brown Jug, which goes to the winner of the Michigan-Minnesota game and dates to 1903. When she read that the trophy "disappeared from the Michigan Athletic Administration Building" in 1930, and went missing until it was found by a gas station attendant in 1934, she decided to end the mystery. Here is her solution-Ed.:
As I seem to be the only living person who knows what happened to the Little Brown Jug in 1930 when it disappeared from the U-M trophy case, I must tell this story.
I remember four giggling men (friends of my father, Roy) who arrived at our home one evening and asked if they could leave the Jug in our basement overnight. The only two whose name I remember are Bill Tuomy and Phil Pack. They left the Little Brown Jug for safekeeping and retrieved it the next day. Phil was known as the King of Practical Jokes.
An article in the Ohio State-Michigan football program of Nov. 20, 1999, states that the Jug was "found" by a gas station attendant in some bushes. As Bill Tuomy owned the gas station at Washtenaw Avenue and Stadium Boulevard, I can only assume it was planted there for those four years. Those where the days!!
Marjory Killins Bentley '43
Santa Monica, California |
Digging up the past
"GRAVE: A place where the dead are laid to await the coming of the medical student." Ambrose Bierce, The Devil's Dictionary.
I read with considerable interest Linda Walker's article in the Fall 1999 issue regarding the history of medical education at the University of Michigan. I am writing today in reference to much more recent events here on campus directly related to those early days, and a facet of medical education touched upon in Ms. Walker's article. I am referring to what was evidently a medical dump uncovered in the course of excavating the basement of the new Randall Physics laboratory addition in October 1993.
As work was progressing on the foundation of the Addition, workers encountered this feature, containing among other things, the remains of numerous people, and enough patent medicine bottles and laboratory specimen jars that it clearly had to have come from the old medical school. Some discussion ensued regarding the disposition of this material.
The Office of the Vice President for Research convened an ad hoc committee with representatives from the Museum of Anthropology, the Medical School, and Central Administration to work out a solution. This was done, however the plan was basically sabotaged by the University business office, which evidently felt very uneasy about the proposed examination of these remains from the University's past.
I was a graduate student looking at what seemed to be a timely and exciting project, as I was reading medical history and taking gross anatomy at the time. My training is in forensic anthropology-I specialize in human skeletal anatomy, and in analysis of human skeletons from archaeological or forensic types of contexts. This was a project which was tailor-made for my training and interests. I had hoped the University would be supportive of this project, and it initially seemed they would be.
At about the time the anatomy department site was found, there were several other sites of a similar nature encountered in the course of construction activities in Georgia and Virginia. The Medical College of Georgia site was analyzed with full support from the university, and the Medical College of Virginia material was analyzed at the Smithsonian. The Georgia material was the subject of the Blakely and Harrington book Walker cites in her article.
To make a long story short, the skeletal material wound up being packed into salvage drums and buried in temporary storage, the glassware and lab materials were cleaned up and accessioned by the Museum of anthropology and the details of this unique piece of Michigan history remain a big question mark.
Until some space can be found to clean up the bone and examine it, it will probably remain swept under the carpet. I would still very much like to pursue this project because it would still give us a lot of positive information-this is hard evidence that could be used to address the questions of Michigan's alleged involvement in some multi-state transport of indigent southern Blacks to northern dissecting tables as Walker, and for that matter, Blakely and Harrington as well, discuss.
Perhaps the Southern states are comfortable enough with their own past that they can look at it now in a relatively objective retrospect, document it and say, "Look how far we've come." The challenge is out: Can Michigan do it as well?
Russell Nelson '98 PhD
Jackson, Wyoming |
Reply—Judith A. Nowack, assistant vice president for research, Office of the Vice President for Research (OVPR) gave the following history about the 1993 award OVPR made to Prof. John O'Shea, curator of the Museum of Anthropology, on behalf of Russell Nelson:
Professor O'Shea said $18,000 would be sufficient to ship the materials to Indianapolis ($12,000), where the remains could be processed in their new forensics lab. It would cost an additional $6,000 to do "a variety of necessary baseline analytical procedures" (e.g. DNA testing, chemical assay, epidemiological assay).
Nowack attached a memo of support to the request, saying that the project would assist in "documenting 19th century medical practice and teaching, assist a graduate student in the completion of his degree, add to our understanding of the history of U-M and fulfill an institutional sense of obligation to do something meaningful with a unique set of human remains."
Following usual procedure, OVPR committed $6,000 and asked other units to share in the costs. Some agreed, some declined. The money was put into a Museum of Anthropology account. As of October 1998, the money had not been spent and O'Shea asked and received permission to use it for another purpose—radiocarbon dating of some other human bones.
Nowack says that providing funds for graduate student work is highly unusual for OVPR "because we consider our funds earmarked for faculty members." The University "picked up the tab for 'stabilization' of the remains in the 55-gallon drums and went to all the efforts of finding the temporary solution and guaranteeing the availability for future research."
The remains are stabilized, and perhaps someone will study them in the future, Nowack says.—Ed.
ONCE AGAIN Linda Robinson Walker, in "Grave Subjects: The Birth of the University of Michigan Medical School" (Fall 1999), turns history to entertaining and enlightening account, in spades. Keep her digging. (Heh, heh.)
P.S. As with LRW on the Pray Diary, I read this article to my mother complete, then turned to the Letters to see if other readers had enjoyed her earlier piece as we did. "Look," I said, "somebody else started browsing it, then went back to read it complete too." Yes, Mr. Wright: you. Deja vu, all over again!
Warren Keith Wright '80 MA
Arbyrd, Missouri |
More label problems
RECEIVED a copy of Michigan Today and the mailing label includes the name of my ex-wife. Needless to say, my wife is not thrilled with this. Suggest that you only use the alum's name in the future.
MY MOTHER, D**** B*****, was a 1969 graduate of the University of Michigan and receives Michigan Today. The problem is that the paper is addressed in her ex-husband's name, who is not a graduate of the University. She would like to have it changed to her name. Please drop me message if you could do this for her.
We wish to repeat our previous apologies for the outdated and sometimes aggravating mailing labels that the computer system occasionally dredges up. The only way we can correct the labels is by receiving the proper information from our readers. We have no control over the process that constructs the labels. We will pass along your suggestions that only the alum's name appear on the label.—Ed.
'Dangerous Experiment'
ON PAGE 23 of the Spring 2000 issue I came across a review of Women at Michigan: The "Dangerous Experiment" l870s To The Present. The title sounded so familiar I fished from my bookcase the paperback A Dangerous Experiment: l00 years of Women at the University of Michigan by Dorothy Gies McGuigan (who was a fellow freshman in Betsy Barbour House in l93l-32). It was a carefully researched book which must have been very helpful to Ruth Bordin.
And imagine my initial surprise to find an article on page six by Karl Leif Bates, my nephew! It will be my pleasure to alert a host of loyal family U-M alums to this interesting student project about which he wrote. I look forward to your mailings. They serve to keep me in touch with my alma mater l,000 miles distant.
Barbara Bates Smith '36
E-mail |
Mudgett/Holmes in novel
I HAPPENED upon the Michigan Today website while searching for information on Herman Mudgett [an 1884 Med School graduate and mass murderer aka H. H. Holmes—Ed.]. I found the article from your Summer 1999 issue about Mudgett being an alumnus. I thought you would like to know that in February a fictionalized account of Mudgett's life was published by Creative Arts Book Company. The Devil's Rood is a group novel written by Jacksonville University professor Bob Stanton and four of his former students, and is available through online bookstores, and it may be ordered as well. I would like to use the illustration on your website for the site I maintain to promote the book (http://www.devilsrood.com). It will link back to your site, of course.
Kathryn Lively
Norfolk, Virginia |
Hispanic hues
THIS IS in reference to Ms. Ellison's comments on bilingual ed in the Spring 2000 issue. Why on earth does she refer repeatedly to Hispanics as "people of color"? I have known many Hispanics over the years, and their skin is as white as mine. (I am a WASP.) I was not aware that these Hispanics considered themselves to be "people of color."
Ben Ebling '56 MA
Saugatuck, Michigan |
Business Catalysts
THANK YOU for your article on the U-M Business School and its new involvement with Catalyst ["Glass Barriers Under Attack at the Business School" by Katie Williams in our spring issue—Ed.]. This will bring a fresh perspective to the female experience at U-M B-School and will provide meaningful benchmarks as improvements are made.
My experience at U-M B-School in the late '70s was extremely challenging. For example, it was nearly impossible to go to professors' office hours without being propositioned. This and other circumstances put women at a significant disadvantage in the competitive struggle for top grades.
Thanks to the Business School for helping our daughters face a more level playing field-or at least letting them know that it isn't—in the years ahead.
Mollie Mossman, '80 BBA
Irving, Texas |
Reminiscence of Wolverine Coaches:
SOME 50 years have elapsed since leaving Ann Arbor with a degree in Education (Physical Education, or as they tab it today, Kinesiology!). On the athletic field and various sport complexes, Michigan continues to be dominant in Big Ten competition. Today's recruiting, though disgusting to me, is a must in order to survive and keep one's record intact. This is in direct contrast to coaches in the pre-1940 era, who accepted the student athlete who had chosen to enroll and then strove to bring out the best in each individual. Starting line-ups were not composed of All-American high schoolers given "free-rides" such as the all-encompassing scholarships dangled in front of today's teenagers. In addition, rarely were certain junior college "prep schools" funneling questionable athletically inclined individuals, with regularity, into name universities across the USA.
 As each decade passes I admire with greater intensity the philosophy of former coaches Charlie Hoyt and J. Kenneth Doherty in track, Cliff Keen in wrestling and Ray Fisher in baseball [Fisher's baseball jersey was retired in May at a ceremony at the field bearing his name—Ed.]. These men were outspoken in their sentiments and felt their assignment was to work with the talent that voluntarily reported and then Go To Work! Favorable records established by this foursome speak for themselves.
Students majoring in physical education, and usually craving to eventually coach at the college/university level, had introductory courses involving virtually every sport. With few exceptions (these being Fritz Crisler, Chuck Hoyt and Ray Fisher) head coaches conducted these sessions. Most memorable, though only an assistant, was loquacious, humorous and volatile Wally Weber!
Destined to be the legendary freshman football coach, he unquestionably was the gem to have working with football yearlings. His instruction was alive, and we awaited for each Wally Weber word to be dispensed! Aquatic and energetic Matt Mann kept swimmers' attention at a high level, as did Doherty with his own quiet and sincere approach to track. Johnny Johnstone handled the minor sports quite well.
Droll and somewhat mechanical presentations seemed to be the pattern of Cliff Keen and Bennie Oosterbaan, the latter handling both basketball and baseball. I often have wondered to myself how Bennie fired up his varsity squads for a game, as he certainly didn't arouse any do- or-die enthusiasm in his lectures to aspiring young potential coaches! Yet these two fellows did produce winning teams over the years. I also remember our one-time exposure to guest lecturer Fritz Crisler, whose talk was not of any great significance.
I would be remiss not to mention the impressions of three remarkable persons. Old Waterman gymnasium was home to Dr. George May and his able assistant Elmer Townsley (who was to die too young) with gymnastic routines that will always be remembered.
Lastly, anyone having had contact with Fielding "Hurry up" Yost will not forget this coach who took a Michigan team to the first Rose Bowl game in 1902. Having relinquished the position of athletic director some 30-plus years later, he followed Wolverine squads with zest and pride. In 1940, when the University of Chicago hosted the indoor Big Ten track and Field championship meet, he repeatedly strode the length of the infield exhibiting an overflowing determination. Attired in a weather-beaten fedora and an open top coat, the voice of this grand old man was to be heard bellowing out, "Here comes the Big M! Look out for the Big M!" Fortunately some of us, as sophomores, blended in with an already established solid team and won both indoor and outdoor titles.
Despite having Maize & Blue 1941 teammates such as future U-M Athletic Director Don Canham; Warren Breidenbach, who took 2nd in the 880 yard run in the 1941 NCAA national meet; and Bob Ufer, who eventually held several 440 yard run records (and still later become "The Voice" of the airways at Michigan home football games), we weren't strong enough to keep Indiana from outscoring us in the chase for both indoor and outdoor Big Ten championship titles.
The war year of 1942 was further disappointment, and perhaps recruiting, as we know it today, was beginning to emerge on campuses across America. In a brief letter some years ago to the Michigan Alumnus, I intimated that the pressure to recruit was probably the main reason for the voluntary departure of J. Kenneth Doherty.
Of the 16 to 18 freshman physical education enrollees of 1938, only five of us were to attend 1942 commencement exercises in Yost Field House. A similar attrition marked the 42 freshmen track team aspirants in '38: only six of us graduated four years later. Academic failure, loss of interest and departure for military service took their toll, but what memories are coveted by those of us remaining!
John Kautz '42 Ed.
Fairfield Bay, Arkansas |
Kilimanjaro in Tanzania
RE THE picture on page 23 of the spring 2000 issue: If Bob LaPlante is atop the summit of Mt. Kilimanjaro, he is in Tanzania at an altitude of 19,340 feet.
Carl Stein
374 Guerrero Street #5
San Francisco, CA 94103 |
Our mistake on the country. As for the altitude, apparently at 19,121 feet, author LaPlante '48 (The Ten Million Mile Man, Rutledge Books, 1999) was 219 feet below the summit when the photo was taken.—Ed.
Kempner, Faulkner and Chafets
AVIVA KEMPNER'S article regarding the death of her grandparents at the hands of the Nazis along with the article on the architect Ken Faulkner brought to mind my days at the school of architecture in the 1950s. Questions came up at that time: Who were the architects that designed the concentration camps-were they willing or were they forced to cooperate? We're familiar with some of the professionals that collaborated with the Nazis—doctors, judges, lawyers—but what about architects?
Most of us know of Albert Speer, Hitler's architect who fell completely under the dictator's spell and designed many projects for the Nazi party. Later he was appointed Minister of Armaments, having total control over Germany's war machine including the slave labor.
The architect Walter Dejaco is not as well known. He was the designer of the notorious death camps at Auschwitz-Birkenau. When they were completed, he was so proud of his work that he displayed the plans in his office until the SS told him to remove them because the projects were secret.
Another architect from Frankfurt, who later became a German officer and a member of the Gestapo, was responsible for the murder of thousands of Jews.
But through the darkness that these architects have cast over the profession shines a bright light of a great architect—Raoul Wallenberg. After graduating from U-M School of Architecture he worked in the Royal Swedish Legation in Budapest, and through his courageous efforts saved thousands of Hungarian Jews from the Nazi death camps. His disappearance at the end of the war into the Russian prison system was a great tragedy that continues to haunt us to this day.
Roy A. Euker '58
New York |
AGAIN, I thoroughly enjoyed the recent issue, in particular the stories about Ken Faulkner and Hank Greenberg. I knew Greenberg had played baseball but little else about him. I still remember reading in Michigan Today ["The Transformation of Benjamin Carson," Feb. 1989 issue, by John Woodford] the biography of the neurosurgeon Ben Carson, how his mother required that he and his brother read and report on books weekly. It was only when he became an adult that he learned that she was illiterate! Now he is famous, and there are even children's books about him. I can say that I read it first in Michigan Today. Why don't Hunter and City Colleges (CUNY) have such interesting newspapers?
Claudia Zaslavsky
New York |
Zaslavsky's Africa Counts: Number and Pattern in African Culture was reissued in paperback by Lawrence Hill last year. Her other books include Multicultural Math:Hands-On Math Activities From Around the World, Instructor Books, 1996.—Ed.
FIRST LET me say how terrific I think Michigan Today has been lately. I also get the Stanford publications because I got my MA and PhD there. I hate their slickness and shameless commercial appeal. In contrast, you provide food for thought. I am especially interested in the fine arts, but you have provoked me to think about other issues also. I enjoyed reading about the alums [Expatriates Zev Chafets, Israeli author, and Ken Faulkner, British architect—Ed.] who have gone abroad and about that terrific anthropology professor [Roberto Frisancho, subject of "A Professor Takes the High Ground"—Ed.].
Jane Fowler Wyman
Menlo Park, California |
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