Re: President Little’s dorms (Jan. 2008): I lived in Helen Newberry in the mid 1960s. Our housemother was Mrs. Tait. We ate almost formally in the dining room with white tablecloths and Mrs. Tait was our hostess – we did not start eating before she lifted a fork. Our most frequent meal was breaded veal cutlets. During the right time of year, we had matso served on each table. Once a semester, each girl was invited to tea in Mrs. Tait’s apartment. Anyone who was late or absent from meals was also invited into Mrs. Tait’s apartment. We had an old-fashioned switchboard and sometimes I worked there, plugging the call cords into the right holes beneath the room numbers.

When President Kennedy was shot, I was out at the Botanical Gardens taking a make-up test. I thought I could walk back to campus, but a car stopped on the road and a man asked if I wanted a ride – I foolishly accepted. He asked me if I had heard the President had been shot and I thought he was playing a trick on me. He played the radio to prove it to me, but I still thought it was a trick. It wasn’t until he let me out on State St. and I ran to Newberry and saw the shock on the switchboard operator’s face that I realized he was telling the truth. Everyone gathered in front of the television in the living room and we all sat there for days and watched without belief or relief.

It was in the fall of 1960 and I was a freshman living in West Quad when then presidential candidate JFK made his famous campaign speech from the steps of the Union announcing his plans to form the Peace Corp (JFK at the Union (Jan. 2008). James from down the hall was from Worcestor Mass and a big fan of JFK (as was I), so he insisted that we attend even though it was in the middle of the night. When we got there, a huge crowd had formed and we worked our way in as close as possible. All of a sudden, James got my attention and said that we had to go right now—the people next to us have a gun. I looked and a woman shook her head no to her partner (and signaled no with her finger) and then she slowly took a gun from her partner’s hand and put it in her purse. We took off. James said he saw the woman take the gun out of her purse and give it to the man and James said he didn’t want to get mugged. At that time, coming from a small town, I wasn’t even sure what mugged meant. I was a little peeved about missing most of the event. I never thought about the incident until years later after all of those JFK conspiracy theories were floating around that perhaps the couple was planning something horrendous. I wonder if James ever thought that also.

It’s my first day, my first class as a grad student at Michigan. There is zero parking on the street and zero time before 10 a.m., the bewitching hour of my class. Surprisingly, upon my late arrival at the classroom, I discover the students and the professor mingling, getting acquainted and in no hurry to convene. Is this the Michigan whose academic regimen is held in high esteem? Later, I learned that at the U-M, the classes begin at 10 minutes past the hour. In my undergrad days, at a different school, the classes started promptly on the hour. But at U-M, at 10 past the hour, it’s, ”Be there or be square!”

I had enrolled at the University of Michigan in 1941 (Michigan women at war, Nov., 2008) and asked to live in Betsy Barbour. My father had graduated from Michigan and I had attended a High School Press conference in Ann Arbor in 1940, staying in Betsy Barbour. World War II meant many more women were able to attend college. Sons were in the service so daughters who normally would not go were able to attend. Many women worked in the War Plants for one semester and thus could afford to attend. There were three full semesters a year in order hasten graduation of the V-12, NROTC, ROTC, Japanese Language School and Medical school students. There were plenty of men all anxious to date the women.
In those days we had “hours”: 10:30 week nights, 12:30 weekends. The V-12 program decided to set a time for the men to be in and they had to be in at 10. If you had a date during the week the girls often walked the boys to the dorm and then walked home. No cars were allowed for undergrads. We walked everywhere. There was just one campus. Dances were held at The Women’s League on week-ends with a live band.
Weeknights we wrote letters to service men. My brother was in the Philippines and I wrote him a letter on a daily basis. His Navy buddies didn’t believe that a sister would do that!
We celebrated V-E day and V-J day on State Street. Then the service men returned, all with paid tuition. It was a wonderful time to be at the University of Michigan.

Kennedy was shot?

Everybody who was alive in 1963 remembers exactly where he was and what he was doing that day.

I was in my room in Couzens Hall, getting ready for my afternoon creative writing class with Robert F. Haugh when the first news came over the radio.

Incredulous, every girl on the floor came out of her room to see if others had heard the news. Radios snapped on, and girls sat on the floor of the corridor listening as the nightmare unfolded.

A creature of routine, I decided to go to class and headed down the hill since we still thought the President was alive.

A heavy, wet snow was falling, and as I approached the Diag, a man came up beside me to share his umbrella. We didn’t say a a word. Suddenly, he stopped in his tracks and looked up. Both of us just stood there, watching the flag come down to half staff.

Most of the class had already assembled. When Professor Haugh walked in, all he said was: “I don’t feel very much like having class today.”

“…as Henne loads up for Edwards, a jump ball, and it issssss, taken away BY EDWARDS. SPECTACULAR TOUCHDOWN.”-Mike Tirico 10.30.2004

Game started in shorts weather, ended with a wind chill below the freezing point. Typical Michigan weather. The one experience from freshman year that will certainly last forever in my memory.

As a Daily Photographer in the late 70’s my U of M Memories are tied to my photographs. Here are some that I’ve managed to scan and post at flickr

As a freshman in 1977 I was on my way to class in Angel Hall when I noticed a large group of “suits” in front of me. In the middle of the “suits” was President Gerald Ford. Of course I was fascinated and followed the entourage. I was not able to meet the President personally, however I was thrilled to both see him on MY campus and know that I was going to the same great University that he had attended. That was the first time that it hit me that I was privileged to attend a world class University.

The photo tour of Mason Hall (Oct., 2008) reminded me of the changes I saw take place on U-M’s beautiful central campus during my tenure. Specifically, as a member of one of the last incoming classes to see the old “fishbowl” prior to the completion, I think about how quickly new traditions replace old ones. When I first visited U-M in 1999 with my father, he told me how similar the Mason-Angell hall area looked to that of his undergraduate days—although big new plans were clearly in the works even at that point.
When I arrived on campus in 2001 the fishbowl area was a mass of construction equipment and steal beams. When I left in 2005 the building had been completely re-imagined to great effect. Interestingly the “fishbowl” moniker still applied, however, now being used to describe the newly constructed computing site that occupied the central area of the building—an old courtyard I think. When I left, this was my favorite (as well as many other students’) study location, and I remember spending many late nights preparing cell biology exams or completing EECS 183 assignments in the computers there.