Dean Doty
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Campus lockdown
By Kathleen Osborne Vellenga
(She might as well have been "Dean of Girls," since that's what we were called. The only time I had a conversation with THE dean, Dean Dupree was to get permission to take extra classes. What year did Mac get a Dean of Students?")
Dean Margaret Doty reminded me of my mother; kind and tough as nails. Dean Doty believed we girls must act like ladies. Mother had tried to bring up her four daughters to be ladies—white gloves, ironed embroidered handkerchief, knees together, don't wiggle during our father's long prayers.
Those beginner steps were ratcheted up when we daughters began dating. Getting home on time was big. But "home on time" at home allowed for defense. "The car ran out of gas; his sister needed a ride; the movie got out late; we had a fight and had to make up...etc." There was no defense with our dorm mothers and certainly not with Dean Doty. 10:00 was 10:00 Central Time, not 10:08 and certainly not 11:00! "Campused" was the original word for today's "grounded," which only applies to people still living at home and too young to drive.
Even dorm hours were paltry issues compared to living off-campus. Only approved "housemothers" could rent to women students. I found out what "approved" meant when Anne Bangsund, already graduated and engaged to Bob Grussing, offered me a summer school room at her apartment near campus. I was finishing four years in three and preparing to graduate in August and get married. My fiancé was finishing a tour of duty in Chicago. I was not in situation where I could be "bad" even if I'd been so lacking in moral fiber. Anne and I met with Dean Doty to plead our case. "You are both lovely girls, but Anne is certainly not old enough to be your housemother." Case closed; I lived in the dorm. Our first child was safely born eighteen months after our August 1959 wedding.