PSU Magazine Spring 1996

Melodies from the past My brother and sister both attended PSC in the 1950s, but coming out of a small Eastern Oregon town (Mosier) from a graduating class of 12, the "big time" really scared me when it was finally my turn. It worked for me though. The wonderful Park Blocks in the spring, the local bartenders who winked at underage kids on Friday afternoons if they were accompanied by Korean War vets, the concerts and art exhibits nearby, the events in the Student Union, the biology lab with four microscopes (my high school hadn't had any!) were all part of the experience. I got to play lots of music on the new Steinway on the fourth floor of State Hall, mostly piano accompani– ments for some wonderful musicians. I couldn't believe the beauty of Stravinsky's Octet when I heard it performed there. Francis Turrell told me my senior year I should get a Ph.D. in music. I laughed at her and said that was beyond my dreams. But I eventually did-from a prestigious university– thanks to the start and confidence PSC, aka PSU, gave me when I gradu– ated in 1961. It was a good place then, and it must be great now from what I read in PSU Magazine. Thank you, mentors of the past. I try to pass the vision to my students now. James P. O'Brien '61 Tucson, Arizona Candles in the darkness From September 1963 through August 1967 I commuted by bus to Portland State from Jennings Lodge, walking a number of blocks from the bus stop downtown to reach the campus and the green peacefulness of the Park Blocks. To this day, the area around the school is one of my favorite places in Portland. I have many memories of those years: the horrifying registration process; Thomas Ferte, who looked like Shakespeare and taught the dreaded English composition course; Professor Kalia, who generated within me an interest in the culture of India; Monsieur Suvajian, the Armenian professor who gave me a passing grade in French; Robert Tuttle, whose sage advice has helped me in writing projects throughout my career; studies of the French Revolution with Professor Le Guin; immersion in European history taught by Michael Reardon; and western civilization history, presided over by the mysteri– ous Basil Dmytryshyn. Another major memory that stands out is of my work-study employment in the Reserve Reading Room of the Library. This job started my long career in librarianship, and may well have been one of my favorite jobs. The day the lights went out in this windowless basement room, I learned practicality on the job as one of the librarians lit a candle while we all held hands to stay together in the darkness. I went on to more education, bigger libraries, and professional duties, but I have never forgotten Portland State, where it all began for me. Kathleen Joyce Kruger '67 Fort Collins, Colorado Humming with energy I spent a lot of time in the cafeteria of the student center during my years at PSU (1967 to 1971). In those days the cafeteria had "zones." There were the students, sort of up front and in the middle. There was a section for the hippies, which sort of flowed out of the Afro section. And way down at that end was sort of the "soc" area. Those were interesting days in which you could be clearly identified with a group, or just be part of the great silent majority. Some of my fondest memories have to do with the faculty. Stanley Johnson, who taught litera– ture and drama, spotted me at a grocery store somewhere in the NW 21st and Lovejoy neighborhood and walked half a block back just to talk with me. That's an instructor who was interested in his students. Dr. Rosenwinkel, our absent– minded professor, had an astounding lecture style as he presented Physical Science 101. He would lecture to the blackboard, rapidly drawing diagrams and notes, throwing the boards up on their tracks until all three were covered. I remember being so busy writing that when I looked up in the silence, he had gone. Poof! Disappeared. You almost expected a cloud of smoke. Portland State had a bustle, an energy, a flow of people that made it special. Sometimes it was like a bus station or train terminal. People were con tantly on the move, coming, going, chatting. I now live not far from the University of Wisconsin-Madison, and I find the most relaxed and inspiring place is amid the noise of the Student Union-like the PSU cafeteria of old. Guy Eichsteadt '71 Oregon, Wisconsin The Aroma ofhistory My fir t history class at Portland State was East Asian history, and the profes– sor was Morris Kirby Webb. He strolled into the classroom, smoking a cigar. He placed the cigar in the chalk– board tray, where it sat for the entire class while he lectured. When class was over, he proceeded to pick it up, light it, and stroll back on out puffing away. His lectures were filled with wonderful comments and code-word phrases. My all-time favorite was his reference to Washington, D.C., as "the Imperial Headquarters on the Potomac." Professor Webb would quote Lenin in Russian, teach us the proper way to pronounce Chinese and Japanese names, and he gave the hardest exams I have ever had in a history class. His office was a mess, with books stacked so high on his desk, I felt like I was talking to him over a wall. When I received an A from him, I knew I had really accomplished something. I have since been on many college campuses, but I often think about Portland State and the excellent education I received there. My mind goes back to the Park Blocks in the spring, and studying on the fifth floor of the Millar Library. Mostly, I think about the people like Morris Kirby Webb. And I can still smell that cigar. Michael Maben '80 Bloomington, Indiana SPRING 1996 PSU MAGAZINE 11