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Class Submissions

Classmates have submitted 72 brief bios and 97 stories for the Class of '59 50-Year Memory Book. The book won't be the same without yours! Submit your bio and stories today!

Newest posts are from:
Wendy Ham Rossi
Jessie Parker Strauss
Carol Carlson Pagel
Carol (Pat) Perkins Bringgold
Glenna Jean Schuler Lynham

 

Our 'Remember When' Stories

Favorite Professors and Classes

← dorm life of women | story list | fieldtrips →

Two of the best
By Carol (Pat) Perkins Bringgol

Two of my favorite professors were Max Adams and Mildred Kalberer.

Dynamite intellectual challengers
By Gary H. Hickok

I remember Dr. Max Adams, Colonel Holmes, and Bill Thompson as dynamite intellectual challengers and mentors.

I liked the Economics class where the professor kicked off every class by saying, “Now, Mr. Hickok, where were we when we left off?” I loved sparring with the instructional antics of Dr. Arnold Holtz.

Saying "Auf Wiedersehen" to a career in German
By Dennis Tooley

It was first year German class and the professor (I can't remember his name) was questioning some of the football players for having missed class, doing so with a “vell, vell, vhere vere you.” Also, I remember his unhappiness with the class making the German love songs he was trying to teach us sound like drinking songs. There was also my first report card from him with his note of “Mr. Tooley, you have little, if any, linguistic ability.”

On the spot
By Louise Day Mattson

I remember G. Theodore Mitau's political science classes, with his finger in your face shouting, "You, what's the answer?"

Philosophy and snacks
By Lee Gibbs

I remember the great philosophical discussions that took place around popcorn and cokes at Professor Thomas Hill's house.

The wisdom of maturity
By Jan Brokl Severud

Professors are interesting to remember. I wish I had been more mature to learn and enjoy their knowledge, Dr. Watson, for example.

Studying the Good Book
By Donna Miller Swan

One of my favorite classes was Dr. Adam's Old Testament class. He made the Old Testament come alive for me, and I learned why knowledge of that portion of the Bible was a prerequisite for understanding the New Testament. My piano methods class has probably been one of my most useful classes, as I still enjoy teaching piano students, which I have done for more than 40 years.

Organic Chemistry for non-science majors
By Rosemary Degnan Gubrud

Organic Chemistry for Non-Science Majors I'd spent my year in geology with its lectures, labs and fieldtrips to the sink holes of Taylor's Falls and the glacial moraine just east of St. Paul. Now my BA graduation requirements manual demanded I take yet another four credit science course. A chemistry student I was not, but I was seduced by that descriptor, "non-science major," and signed on.

I'm sure Dr. Scott, brilliant man that he was, conducted an informative class with lectures, demonstrations and writings on the board.  If there was a lab in conjunction with this class, I have repressed all memory of it. When final time commenced, I prepared as best I could and reported for the test.  The first question I saw on the exam went something like this:

"Explain the dynamic at work in the following example:
The knave of hearts stole the tart from the queen of spades. The queen called on her defenses to capture the knave and get back the tart. Try as she might, the queen could not overtake the knave and eventually succumbed to his superior strength. The knave and the queen married and produced a beautiful princess."

OMIGAWD! Do I have to understand and explain the principles underlying the chemistry? My memorized periodic table is of no use? No NaCl?I'm gonna flunk!

Half-way through the test, Diane Johnson Hempel and I turned in our papers and walked out. We ran to the grill where we silently ordered coffee and lit up our cigarettes. We drank and puffed.

Finally, one of us said, "I don't understand a damn thing on this test!" The other asked, "What are we gonna do?" We decided our best course of action was to go back and finish the exam. Fortified with caffeine and nicotine, we returned to Dr. Scott's classroom and took up the exams where we had left off. God bless Dr. Scott for understanding that, though we had left the room, neither Diane nor I could possibly have cheated on that exam. We didn't know enough chemistry to be cheaters!

Learning literature in the Grill
By Carol Holmquist Terry

An English professor, who will go unnamed for obvious reasons, frequently passed around a tin cup for collection purposes in lieu of lecturing. His purpose in so doing was to gather enough change from the students so that we all could retire to the Mac Grill for coffee. Needless to say, work in his class was held to a minimum and it was an easy three credits. However, if grilled, I would truly have to admit that it wasn't grounds for mastery of literature.

How Dodge nailed a point home
By Carol Holmquist Terry

Dorothy Dodge in Political Science lectured in detail and with great enthusiasm; her drama portraying the significance of every constitutional amendment and the ramifications of various court decisions held us on the edge of our seats. But, Ms. Dodge also sported extremely long fingernails, at least two inches in length, and had the habit of flinging her hands out in all directions when trying to nail a point. I never quite got up enough nerve to sit in the front row when a lecture was in progress.

The kind and gentle O. T. Walters
By Carol Holmquist Terry

Dear Dr. O. T. Walters, in Human Physiology, captivated me by his kind demeanor and gentle ways. I was mesmerized by his soft and lilting voice while simultaneously being amazed by his mastery of facts and depth of knowledge. Attending his class was the highlight of each day. Had I been in an era where women became doctors, I do believe Dr. Walters would have stolen me away from Elementary Education and thrust me into the world of medicine.

Encountering the shades of gray in ethics
By Carol Holmquist Terry

In Dr. Adams' Ethics class I came to grips with the fact that there truly were no absolutes -- that right and wrong was a matter of degree and dependent upon one's own surroundings and circumstances. My black and white world faded into shades of gray and this revelation has continued to influence my thinking over these past many years.

Dr. Livingston and the '58 Summer Session
By Lynne Davis Osteraas

I remember attending summer school after junior year and taking a philosophy course from Dr. Ray Livingston. Dr. Livingston was a great discussion leader. After studying statements by famous philosophers, we pondered the big questions like, what is real and what is merely perceived? The purpose was to develop critical thinking and writing skills. There were no right or wrong answers (as in science classes) and no labs, only papers to write as take-home tests! This left more time for socializing and enjoying many afternoons at Lake Nokomis Beach.

Charlie Miller
By Dan Johnson

Charlie Miller was one of kindest and most gracious of persons to a small town boy from southwestern Minnesota and I'll never forget him.

Moving mountains in Geology
By Kathleen Osborne Vellenga

Taking a class on rocks seemed the least painful way to complete my science requirement. I'd taken Genetics before I transferred, and thought my high school chemistry could get me through the rest of my life. Wishing I'd paid more attention to rocks during all the mountain hikes with my parents, I showed up in Dr. Waldo Glock's class. During the first class we were introduced to how the land now called Minnesota was formed. Dr. Glock's scientific demeanor became dramatic as he described glaciers melting, gushing rivers, and inland oceans. Dr. G. himself was nearly foaming and I was caught. My new state became home in geology class.

My parents had learned to swim in irrigation ditches and I in a gravel pit, all in Mountain Time zone Nebraska. The prairies and mountains of my childhood now connected with the glaciers that pushed out rock and left lakes in my new home of 10,000. We raised our kids and still live a block from the Mississippi River; our weekend place is on the Clam, a tributary of the St. Croix.

Thanks, Dr. G. Thanks, Dr. J.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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