I stood in the crowd at the Michigan Union the night JFK announced his idea and plan for the peace corps. We dormies had permission to stay out past hours to hear his address. I will never forget his enthusiasm, his grace and his ability to touch the crowd. Little did I know then that it would be a cherished memory for me.

While getting my MPH in Radiation Safety I was offered the opportunity to work as a Health Physics Tech at the U of M’s swimming pool nuclear reactor @ Phoenix Memorial Lab.

As I read a Michigan Memory entitled, Ralph Cramden Goes to Law School, it brought back a flood of memories. For I too was a student bus driver while attending the School of Social Work at U of M.

When I became a student bus driver, I was already working as a Truck Driver for the University’s Laundry Service located up on North Campus. I delivered linen, surgical gowns, and the ancillary components for assembling surgical packs. My rate of pay for this work was $4.25 an hour, which I initially thought was a pretty good.

However, an acquaintance of mine from when I worked the Book Rushes at Ulrich’s told me that the Transportation Department was hiring student bus drivers. Initially, I wasn’t interested because I thought that I had a good paying job. Then he told me that the starting hourly rate was $11.75. I suddenly became very interested, and went with him up to the bus garage to apply.

The manager liked what he saw on our applications, and gave us driving tests in the parking lot next to Crisler Arena. He pulled one of the old Flexible Coaches out of the barn for us to drive. Unlike the newer Flexible and GMC Coaches, the older model didn’t have power steering. When turning one of these under-powered beasts, hard hand-over-hand maneuvers were required to complete a turn, which resulted in a great upper body workout. Long story short, we were both hired.

The major differences between Mr. Stutz’s experience and my own were: The rates of pay and the locations where we parked our respective coaches. He parked his by Hutchins Hall, while I parked mine on Washington between the Rackham and Friese Buildings.

In bad weather conditions, I actually preferred driving the older Flexible Coaches to the newer ones or the GMC’s because one could feel the road, whereas with the others you could not tell when the coach was on ice until it was too late. The biggest drawback to driving one of the old Flexible Coaches was the fact that they were grossly under powered.

If I was on the Bursley/Bates run up to North Campus, I prayed that I wouldn’t have a passenger wanting to get on or off at the stop by the North Campus Commons because the “Bursley Hill” started immediately north of the stop.

Even though I would put the pedal to the metal, the coach moved so slowly that students walking up the same hill would progress faster than me.

Unlike my job driving the laundry truck where there was a set number of hours I was allowed to work, I could drive as many hours per week that I wanted.

When I got my first job after completing my program at the SSW, I took a cut in pay, and a lot has changed.

This year my class from the SSW celebrates its 25th Anniversary. As I read Mr. Stutz’s account from when he was in Law School, I was taken on a trip down Amnesia Lane to a simpler time when I got by on what I made as a student bus driver at the University of Michigan.

Hi

In 1971, I wrote a 28 page research paper for my BA degree at the University of Sussex on the U of M Black Action Movement strike that occurred in March 1970. I recently found my paper and thought it would be of interest to somebody at the Univ of Michigan – who would be interested? Let me know.

Holly Sweet
hbsweet@comcast.net

After arriving at the Law School in August 1968, I found employment as a bus driver for the U-M Transportation Dept. ($4.00/hour vs $1.75/hour for law clerks). Not only did the job provide enough money to meet my expenses, it also solved the difficult problem of parking on campus. I would pick up a bus early in the morning, drive for two or three hours and then head for classes. There were always no-parking zones around Hutchins Hall big enough to accommodate a 45 foot long Flexible or GMC bus and at no charge. After finishing classes for the day, I’d walk out of the Law School, start up the bus and drive for a few more hours. The parking was far superior to that made available to the Dean of the Law School.

I was scheduled to drive a charter group to a Bill Cosby Concert in the fall of 1968 and I believe it was the weekend of the Michigan State football game. I tried not to let the job interfere with my social life and arranged for a blind date. The blind date turned out to be an attractive MSU grad, who was somewhat surprised to be picked up for the date and driven to the Show in a University bus. Julie and I have now been married for 40 years.

The job also involved chauffeuring the President and Regents of the University to various locations around Southeast Michigan, primarily the airport. I was able to get to know these people and enjoyed our conversations over three years. During commencement exercises, I followed a parade of fellow graduates across the stage at Hill Auditorium, but I was the only one whom then President Robben Fleming and the five Regents rose to greet. My father and mother were never told why this happened, but they appeared pleased.

Most of my out-of-class activity involved THE MICHIGAN DAILY. I started as a reporter, worked my way up to Assistant Night Editor, Night Editor and finally Feature Editor in my Senior Year. I was also taking the Journalism Curriculum under Wes Maurer who didn’t like the idea of Journalism students working on The Daily. I never understood that illogical attitude until years later. Maurer had no control over The Daily and that’s what colored his thinking. Nevertheless, I persevered and was supported in my Daily activities by other professors in the Journalism Department,especially Ken Stewart, Jim MacDonald, and Karl Zeisler.

It was heartwarming to tour the restored Student Publications building in October 2008. I missed the sound of the AP wire, the presses in the basement and the typewriters. Much to my surprise, the ring on the telephones is still the same as it was in the 50s.

My junior year held the greatest excitement due to the nationwide protest about former Nazi musician Herbert von Karajan being named to take the Berlin Philharmonic on its U.S. tour after the death of conductor Furtwangler. As Music Editor, I had stories running almost daily for nearly three weeks.

I asked the Berlin Philharmonic for an interview with von Karajan. They granted the interview, only if I could be backstage at Hill Auditorium as soon as the concert was over. The only way to do that was to go backstage at intermission and wait there. That’s what I did. I lifted up the eye slot in the door leading to the stage so I could watch von Karajan as he conducted the Brahms Third Symphony. We had a ten-minute discussion after the concert. I’ll never forget that entire experience.

I had Professor Fine (Teacher, scholar, mensch, May 2009) during my sophomore year (1975-76) for 20th Century American History, which was then called History 562 and 563. During my senior year, Professor Fine was my Honors Thesis advisor, which allowed me to get to know him more personally than was possible when I was a 19-20 year old in a large lecture class.

Sidney Fine was the quintessential university professor, combining a marvelous intellect with a love of teaching that earned him many awards from appreciative students. Somehow, he was able to more than satisfy the stringent publishing requirements imposed on faculty by a prestigious university without sacrificing his obligations to his students, who benefited from the intellectual curiosity he conveyed through his fascinating lectures, and from his interest in them as individuals trying to navigate through life.
Professor Fine also exemplified what a liberal arts education should be, namely, the free discussion of competing ideas between professor and student. He never imposed his ideology on others, or required its regurgitation on an exam or paper as a predicate to success in his classes. He always made himself available to his students, and he appreciated the need for balance between academics and personal development by encouraging his students to take full advantage of their college experience. On a personal level, this served me greatly when I submerged myself in my senior thesis, and lost sight of the bigger picture.

Professor Fine will be sorely missed and will never be replaced. His legacy is a major part of what is The University of Michigan.

I loved Sidney Fine (Teacher, scholar, mensch, May 2009) with the affection one feels toward a parent. I was this insignificant undergraduate in a huge History lecture, and I was determined to get to know Professor Fine. I went to his office hours every week, often just to chat, and he never turned me away. I also erased his chalkboard after every lecture, which he came to expect of me. I was honored to get covered in chalk to help him out. He walked with a limp, and yet never complained about snow or rain. He always wore a hat and a topcoat. I still think of his lectures, especially those on the Japanese internment during WWII. He was most passionate about that topic, and I now know more than one family out here in California who was relocated during the War. I always think of things Professor Fine taught me, even when I hear opera, one of his passions. He was my favorite all-time professor, and one of the best people I’ve ever known.

Taking 20th century American History with Professor Fine (Teacher, scholar, mensch, May 2009) is a treasured memory of my U-M days. When he talked about the McCarthy era, the size of the class swelled, with students filling the steps of the lecture hall to hear his riveting lecture. That semester (winter ’70), the Black Action Movement made demands for higher minority enrollment and tried to coerce students and faculty to support them. At the height of the tension, I skipped Friday classes, leaving campus to get away. That day, BAM activists took over Professor Fine’s class, an ugly incident he spoke eloquently about the following Monday, likening the coercion and fear of the episode to the McCarthy era.