Tuesday, September 4, 2018

Freshman Orientation 50 Years Ago--Recollections and Reflections From A Member of the Class of 1972

     Going to see a football game at Franklin and Marshall College on a late summer Saturday is a fun day out in southeastern Pennsylvania.  Super highways help to make it a two and a half hour drive from North Jersey if there is no excessive traffic. Today there was no anxiety, pressure or uncertainty. Except maybe, over the outcome of the game and the weather. But for some light rain in the middle of the contest, the worst part of the weather was the gray sky. F&M dominated Lebanon Valley by a 44-21 margin after being down by a 7-0 score.

     Normally, for those who follow this blog, I devote my thoughts to the current state of sports, whether it is the onset of the college football season, the completion of the baseball season or the U.S. Open making its return to Queens. However, this trip to see the #24-ranked Diplomats vanquish LVC was part of a special occasion which I will share with you. 

     The anticipation was far different on Labor Day weekend in 1968. That was the first time the entire F&M Class of 1972 came together on campus--for an event called Freshman Orientation. There was plenty of stress, anxiety and uncertainty. 

     1968 was a turbulent time in this Nation's history.  Two assassinations, and a violent, chaotic Democratic Convention in Chicago highlighted the tensions within the United States. In our class history, reference is made to the introduction in Charles Kaiser's book, 1968. He stated that "1968 was a pivotal year. It was a moment when all of the nation's impulses towards violence, idealism, diversity and disorder peaked to produce the greatest possible hope and the worst imaginable despair."

     2018 has its own turbulence, invoking many parallels yet not close in its historical context. The Class of 2022 will have its own history to write, in a manner not dissimilar to the Class of 1968. Both my class and the freshman class now entering F&M have one thing in common--a liberal arts college in Lancaster, Pennsylvania dedicated to giving them a top-flight education to understand the world that enveloped the students of the late '60's and now confronts students, some the grandchildren of those protesters of the Vietnam War who have their own reasons to rebel.

     As was the nature of Franklin and Marshall, the Class of 1972 came from a variety of places and for a plethora of reasons. Highly renowned as a school where the pre-med program was considered to be one of the best in the country, F&M adapted to the changing environment of the war, as it found more students opting to attend law school.

     We represented the hope for the future--the boys of the Baby Boomers, as Franklin and Marshall was still an all-male institution. If there would be an accounting now, the Class of 1972 did quite well. From our ranks came a bevy of lawyers, doctors, health care professionals, college administrators, businessmen, market analysts, ranking military officers, geoscience professionals, educators, coaches, et.al., many who have achieved advanced degrees and leadership roles, and all who have made a difference.

     But who among us could predict how well we could have done? We arrived as a class in flux, just as much as our county was. The racial discord which remained even after the enactment of the Civil Rights act was palpable. 

     F&M addressed the subjects of the recent past in our reading assignments over the summer. The Autobiography of Malcolm X, which concerned one of the most controversial men in the '60's, along with The Kerner Commission Report, which focused on the causes of the 1967 riots in cities like Newark, gave the incoming freshmen a taste of life far removed from their lives yet so pertinent to the times. 

     So when we rolled into Lancaster that weekend, we had already been awakened to the sociological and historical aspects of the present day. It would be up to our professors to make us even more aware of our place in this ever-changing world.

     That trip to F&M was the beginning of a trade--breaking the bonds of home to meet new friends and to learn how to become a functioning adult four years later. No wonder so many of us nervously moved into our dorms, with our Macintosh linens and a roommate whom we had corresponded with and in most cases, had never met.

     Orientation was intended to be a learning experience and a warning to us about our places in the College and in the world. We survived some testing (one of my classmates says it was the Strong Vocational  Inventory, another says it was Minnesota Multiphasic Personality Inventory) to predict our best outcomes; I was supposed to be an accountant, which was totally laughable as I detested math. Physical education was a requirement, so a different form of testing was administered, including a swimming test.

     We were addressed by the venerable President of the College, Keith Spaulding. Dr. Spaulding's deep voice spoke to warn us, to get us focused upon the difficult task at hand--the rigorous four years of academic study and the multitude of sanctioned and unsanctioned extracurricular activities that were present at F&M.

     Our orientation also included a harsh speech from the head of the African-American Society, challenging us to reject societal norms and to recognize how much further we had to go to properly address the plight of those who did not have the privilege to stand in our shoes. We also met the effervescent O.W. Lacy, the Dean of Students.

     While we all came to Franklin and Marshall to learn and graduate with a valued degree, many of us had other interests which F&M could help us to develop. Some came to play sports--the freshman football team faced the fiery persona of the head coach, the late Bob Curtis. Others came to play in the band. A few were headed to the radio station and a few more went to the Green Room for the plays.

     Communally we ventured into orientation with our dorm floor group. So, too, did we eat our meals together those first few days until we began classes. We had a boisterous beginning inside of our dorms as we integrated 16 rooms of two individuals apiece, monitored by a resident assistant.

     Speaking of classes, we received our class assignments when we were sent to the foyer of Mayser Center, F&M's gymnasium. I was among the unlucky who were placed in an 8:00 a.m. class of English I--forcing me to awaken early and eat, then rush to class still half asleep. The lesson learned was never to take another early class.

     There we were, prepped as best as the academicians could hope for, ready to enter the challenges that lay ahead. A bunch of predominantly 17 and 18 year olds looking for guidance, while at the same time trying to become stronger individuals.

     Thus my return to campus on September 1, 2018 was nostalgic as much as it was a view of the future. The tour of the quiet campus  before noon evoked many memories. 

     The older dorms we freshmen inhabited were still there--Schnader and Marshall-Buchanan--updated architecturally and with the better creature comforts we did not have. The Quad was still the Quad, except that College Houses are now present and there are additions to the dorms allowing for reading, recreation and reflection. New Dorm is not as new anymore, and there are a couple of other adjacent dorms to house those living on campus. 

     Still in its place is the cafeteria, albeit now it is called a "restaurant," and serves a far different fare than we became accustomed to, served by the older ladies employed by the Wood Food Service. I chose not to partake in the present day culinary delights.

     Stager Hall, which contains Stahr Auditorium,  is still in the center of the campus, flanked by the Keiper Liberal Arts building. The Bookstore is still in the same location. Old Main looks better preserved than ever. Goethian Hall is no longer a post office. The infamous "Protest Tree" has been removed. The library is named the Shadek-Fackenthal Library thanks to the generosity of the Shadek family. A new art building is being constructed at the south end of campus. There are more statues and art work adorning the lush greenery. 

     A performing arts center has been added to Mayser Center, where the swimming pool used to be. The gym inside Mayser has banners saluting the successes of our teams--Women's Lacrosse has been a National Champion and Men's Basketball has become a national power coached by Glenn Robinson, who guided our freshman team in 1968-69. The"Pit," the dirt-floored indoor practice area for so many teams is no more. 

     While Sponagle-Williamson Field still is upright and the track continues to be used, Saturday's game was the first home opener in the state-of-the art Shadek Stadium, thanks to the donations of so many, and spearheaded by the sizeable gift of our classmate, Larry, who was seen roaming the sidelines.  There is an Alumni Sports & Fitness Center across Harrisburg Pike, which is home to an indoor track, swimming pool and exercise rooms. A new multi-purposed turf field with lights plus a tennis center are near the ASFC. Much development of the area along Harrisburg Pike has transformed the vicinity of the College. Gone are the factories, tobacco curators, and the blight that we saw as we entered the parking lot, which has been replaced by businesses and an eatery. 

     Hensel Hall is still extant, albeit under a different name and now dedicated to music. Kaufman Lecture Hall and the Hackman Labs, brand new in 1967, show their age. Hartman Hall, the old, decrepit Franklin and Marshall Academy, which was our de facto student center, has been removed, leaving an open space between the dorms and the remainder of the campus. There is an actual student center on campus, a hub for much of what happens at F&M.

     Two formidable structures have emerged where the baseball field and the tennis courts used to be. One is for the life sciences and the other is dedicated for student housing. Baseball is over at Baker Field, along with a softball field. There is a separate Science Library where biology used to be taught.  Even the Appel Infirmary has been converted. 

     The biggest change of all is co-education. We experienced that after our freshman year, but now it is clearly evident at Franklin and Marshall, where women excel academically, in the arts and in athletics.

     I could go on forever. Change is the central theme at Franklin and Marshall. Remaining in the forefront of small, liberal arts colleges requires much planning. Had the school remained stagnant in its physical appearance, much of the attractiveness and charm of the school would have been wasted or eviscerated. 

     In looking at the students whom I saw at the game and wandering on campus or those few who were sequestered in the library, I observed youngsters embedded in a crisis, as our class faced 50 years ago. They have the great fortune of personal computers, cell phones and the Internet. That alone, is a major advantage.

     Yet they face a present that is politically more unstable and divided than in 1968. Our enemies have found new ways to target us in a war that has unsure consequences. They grew up with the memories of Sandy Hook Elementary and Parkland H.S., rioting in Baltimore and Ferguson, Missouri, along with issues of domestic violence, sexual harassment and drug use. 

     The Class of 2022 must navigate the swirling waters of rapid change, racial discord and an unpredictable future.  The admonitions of the speakers at our Freshman Orientation, in the literature we read prior to our arrival, and the preface to Mr. Kaiser's book still resonate today.

     When I thought about revisiting F&M on the date of our Freshman Orientation, I knew this: Franklin and Marshall is a far different place than 50 years ago. That is what progress is about. And the progress has been good.

     Still much remains the same for the students who arrived on campus last week as freshmen. As a member of the Class of 1972, I wish them as much success as we have attained.  

     The words of President Spaulding in his letter to our Oriflame yearbook also contained in our Class of 1972 History, splendidly written by Larry May, hopefully will be as applicable to Class of 2022:

    "It would be difficult to characterize the world during your                                      time at Franklin and Marshall other than a period of flux.                                      Some of the experiences of these past four years have                                              surely been traumatic. But with all the uncertainty and                                          ambiguity you faced in the world's expectation of us, as I                                        reflect upon it, I am impressed with the fortitude, and the                                      resistance to the fears and pessimisms of the day, which most of                          you exhibited. While some will remember your generation of                                students for the excesses which captured headlines, I will                                      remember a large body of young men and women who were                                  generally good natured, reasoned earnestly about their                                          problems and the problems of the College, and                                                          cared about what they were doing."

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