A QUARTER CENTURY OF STUDENT LIFE AT TULANE:

A DEAN'S NARRATIVE HISTORY, 1949-1975

By John H. Stibbs; Ed. With Annotations by John Edgar Browning

(Donaldsonville, La.: Margaret Media, Inc., 2013)

Rev. by Hugh Murray

The editor of this work writes in the Preface that this memoir is important because Dean Stibbs presents “an authoritative account with interesting personal anecdotes...an engaging insider's look at some of Tulane's most complex and controversial moments in its history;...that saw cultural upheaval, student unrest, ethnic division, anti-war demonstrations...”(p. Xiii) Is it really? Or is it a biased view, which omits significant material? One reason Dean Stibbs is important during this period is that as Dean of Students, “When disciplinary measures are necessary, the action taken by the Dean of Students will generally - except for review by the President of the university – be final.”(14)

Of course, there were problems that landed on the Dean's desk in his early years at Tulane, years he remembers fondly. For example, in 1950, the night before a major football game against its chief state rival, Louisiana State U., some green wave supporters stole the caged “Mike the Tiger” that was the mascot of the Baton Rouge school. The tiger-napping caused great consternation, but the Dean was able to negotiate with the culprits, and prior to the game, a parade with police escort and the tiger, but now lounging in a cage decorated in the green and blue colors of Tulane, entered the stadium to massive cheers from both sides.(16) Tulane, like most major universities of that era, had a separate liberal arts division for women, Newcomb College. Following WWII, Tulane constructed more dormitories, and in 1954, several hundred Tulanians marched from their dorms to those of Newcomb for the first pantyraid. Police were called, and four students were arrested, three convicted. Browning includes newspaper clippings in his appendix of what today seems a quaint fad.(126-29) After another homecoming and football game, the Dean had heard of a problem, and purposely drove along nearby Broadway Ave. As expected, a couple of drunken SAE fraternity men were hurling empty beer bottles in front of cars passing their frat house. They did it now in front of his vehicle. Stibbs stopped, jumped from his car, raced up the steps to courageously confront the frat brothers. When they recognized him, they were shocked and embarrassed, as he ordered them to stop an told them they would be disciplined. He then returned to his drive.(37-38) Stibbs could reflect on Tulane in the 1950s: “Campus life was happy and lively, sometimes too much so.”(37) Were the 50s really such halcyon days? Or has his memory played tricks?

One fraternity prank evoked disgust and terrible publicity for Tulane and the fraternity community. As part of their initiation, several pledges were ordered to steal from a news stand. They took only a small sum of money, but the man managing the stand was blind. The culprits were caught. The news of privileged frat boys stealing from a blind man trying to earn a living through his news stand did not read well in most New Orleans homes. This incident is not mentioned in the book.

One area for which Dean Stibbs deserves considerable credit is in planning a new university center, which would open in 1958. Students, faculty, almost everyone was able to have input in what they thought the new center should contain. Raising funds was essential to its success. The Dean, close to student government, and many student organizations, faculty, staff, the planning paid off. Stibbs contended that once opened, it became perhaps the most used university center in the nation.(35) I cannot compare other university centers, but I do think it changed the character of Tulane. I entered Tulane as a freshman in 1956, and recall the old student center. I did not reside in the dorms, but was a scholarship student living with my parents. Tulane, for me was a commuter school. Arrive, attend classes (hopefully clustered together) and return home. The old student center was on the 2^nd floor of an older building. One could hang out there, usually with a few other New Orleanians, but other than sit on comfortable chairs, there was nothing to do except learn to and play bridge. With the new university center, locals could meet students from Dallas, Mobile, Tennessee, Brooklyn, North Carolina. I began to feel more like a part of Tulane with the new center. And Dean Stibbs deserves credit for this change, which was not only in my attitude, but in that of many others. Before the opening of the new student center, one almost had to join a fraternity to feel a part of Tulane.

My freshman year, I took a course in American History. There were about 80 students, and the professor gave out 4 As, after the first term. I received one, and another A in that class was a fellow Unitarian, from Houston, Tom. He had a friend from Latin America, Alberto, and the 3 of us began to hang out during the second semester. Being a native, I showed them some places they might not have encountered. I remember we went swimming in one of the city's park swimming pools, spring 1957. This would have been unnecessary a year or so later because the new university center would boast a large swimming pool of its own.

September 1957 we took different classes and went our own ways. Tom had been and remained a Beta frat member, and I heard that Al joined the Pikes, I remained Gamma Delta Iota (God Damned Independent). Months, a year went by. On Monday 29 September 1958, I chanced upon Al walking on campus, and feeling that I should have done more to salvage the friendship, decided I would now try to renew it. “Where are you going?” “To my dorm.” “I'll walk with you.” I tried to stir up a conversation, but he replied in simple monosyllables, almost not wanting to speak. We arrived at his room, we both entered, and were soon joined by one of his frat brothers too. Al went to a corner to whisper to the frat student, while I just stood by on the other side of the room. I thought it strange, but not really rude. Then he approached me and said, “Would you mind leaving?” I was shocked. I felt, I made the effort to renew; next time, if there is to be a next time, must come from him.

Was it Tuesday's or Wednesday's newspaper, I don't recall. Suddenly, I was reading in a major article what had been discussed in Al's room with his fraternity brothers: how to dispose of a wallet! Over the weekend, 3 Pikes, Al and two others, had gone to the French Quarter to roll a queer. One Pike entered a gay bar, while the others waited outside and were to stay close. When John F. (Pike), seated at the bar, was soon joined by a Mexican tour guide, Fernando Rios, they conversed and relaxed. Rios invited John to his home. Taxis avoided picking up passengers from that area, so they walked. John led Rios to an alley between the Cabildo and St. Louis Cathedral. While James D. suddenly blocked the exit, John was joined by Al in beating the queer and knocking him to the ground. Al took the wallet from Rios' back pocket, and the 3 left, satisfied with their adventure. Next morning, a grounds keeper discovered the badly beaten Rios still on the pavement; police were called and Rios taken to hospital, where he died without regaining consciousness. Meanwhile, when the Pike 3 discovered Rios had died, they were unsure what to do. They gave the American money in the wallet to the church; burnt the Mexican and Canadian bills. Unsure, they finally called the Dean of Students, Stibbs, who “called the boys a defense attorney and the police to get their statements.”[Jelisa Thompson, “You Make Me Feel: A Study of the Gay Rights Movement in New Orleans, p. 17, Honors Thesis, U. of Southern Mississippi, Fall, 2011].

I was strolling along the super-wide Canal Street during the day in late January 1959, when behind me I heard a loud raucous. I turned to see – 3 or 4 blocks away there was a motorcade crossing out of the French Quarter [headed toward Tulane U.] The boys had been charged with murder, and the courtroom was located in the Quarter. The jury's verdict had just been announced, not guilty. The Pikes, parents, and friends were celebrating the verdict, and to make sure the message was heard, as the motorcade rolled through the streets, they were shouting “Open season on queers!” “Kill all the queers.” No one doubted they were guilty, but a doctor testified that Rios had an unusually thin skull. It was also said that he was wearing female panties for underwear when killed. DA Richard Dowling was criticized for even bringing murder charges against the students in such a case.

This case was big news, with international implications. Dean Stibbs was indirectly involved. Not a word about this case in his memoir. However, when writing about the attempt to gain recognition for a Tulane Gay Students group in the 1970s, Stibbs writes he delayed recognition for 2 years, until the majority of the Senate voted approval.(94) The 1950s were a happy time.

In August 1960 I was one of 7 New Orleanians attending a 3-week training institute conducted by the Congress of Racial Equality (CORE). Oliver St. Pe and I were the only whites from the area to go, and I did not know him well as he was a student at Loyola U. of the South. Though it was physically next to Tulane, before Pope John Paul's reforms, there seemed to be an enormous intellectual gulf between these two universities. Others came from Dillard and Xavier (historically Black universities in New Orleans), and some were in the work force. We were trained in methods of non-violent change, going to places to test if they were segregated, negotiations, and if that failed, boycott and picketing. We also trained for sitting in, and how to respond non-violently if segregationists sought to punch or hurt us in other ways. We stayed in a Black motel in Miami, integrating the rooms, and during the day we took over the lounge for our training sessions. One day, out teacher was Rev. Martin Luther King, Jr., who at the time was “off the record” supporting Sen. John Kennedy and the Democrats for President. Another day, our teacher was baseball legend Jackie Robinson, who was openly for VP Richard Nixon and the Republicans. Fewer than 50 partook in the CORE conclave, including several Miami natives. The supermarket Shell's City had a restaurant in its building, and we went in mixed groups to test it. About half our CORE group was arrested, including St. Pe. (St. Pe, who was legally blind, would later become a leader in promoting solutions for the blind and other disabled people in New Orleans.) I sat at a table with Ruth Dispenza, a young Black woman from New Orleans, who was quite light-skinned. The authorities assumed we were a white couple, so neither of us was arrested.

We returned to New Orleans at the end of August 1960, just as Tulane and most universities were about to begin their fall semesters. I had received my BA in the spring and was to continue at Tulane as a graduate student in history. I also had a part-time job at the Tulane library on weekends. But like the other CORE trainees, I was determined to bring the first sit-in to New Orleans, which according to the 1950 census (the last one available), was still the largest city in the South – larger than Miami, Houston, Atlanta, Dallas. Moreover, the sit-in movement had begun in North Carolina in February 1960 and spread to many places, but not to New Orleans.

Tulane was aware that some of its students were preparing to partake in some action with CORE. Dean Stibbs sent a few students to talk to us. He may have done so in person, but my memory is hazy. I do remember that we were informed of the university's rules if we were arrested – we would be suspended until we were found innocent. Was this intended as a threat? Just hearing the consequences was chilling. We were aware that we would not be found innocent in local courts, and if appealed, there was no certainty. If we went to the US Supreme Court, we might win, but there was no guaranty that our case would be accepted for review by the high court, or that we would have the resources to appeal. Even if we won, it would probably take several years, so we would be suspended from Tulane for a long time. I would also lose my job. If arrested, I planned to move from my parents' home, for if I remained, they would become a target. So, as an individual, I was facing the abyss. But I had trained for this, talk is cheap, and wanted to “put my body on the line.” With the gloomy news from the Dean's emissaries, only 2 of us from Tulane decided to go ahead with the plan. Bill Harrell, a grad student in sociology and a few years older that I, Bill was to be my cell mate a few days after the Dean's info session.

On Friday 9 September 1960 New Orleans had its first lunch-counter sit-in, at the large Woolworths across from the Saenger Theater on the corner of Canal and North Rampart streets. All 7 of us, led by Ruth Dispenza, were arrested and charged with criminal mischief, a felony. Then, the unexpected happened. Tulane's Board changed the rules! The Board determined that these charges were of a political, not a criminal nature, and the threatened suspensions did not occur. I would be a graduate student and retain my job after all. I moved out, but my parents nevertheless received many threatening phone calls at all hours. I did not get them because I did not have a phone. MOST IMPORTANT – this change meant that the dam had broken, dozens more Tulane/Newcomb students would become involved with CORE and the integration movement, numbers from the Jewish fraternity AEPi, and GDI's from both North and South, freshmen and women. The surge in Tulane/Newcomb support was a result of the change in Tulane U. policy; students knew now that they would not be suspended from the university for years if arrested in picketing or sitting-in in the Canal St. shopping area. During that year, CORE meetings often had a majority of whites attending where we met at the Negro YMCA on Dryades St. In the 3 January 1961 issue of the popular, national picture magazine, Look, there was an article, “Introduction to a Sit-In,” describing the arrest of the 19-year-old Newcomb blond gal from Atlanta and her arrest in New Orleans. This was national news, and a result of the change in policy by the Tulane Board in September 1960. Dean Stibbs clearly knew of this. However, he omits all mention of it in the book. Was he sympathetic to the changed policy? Opposed? The memoir is silent.

In the text (46) and in more detail among the newspaper clippings (131), there is discussion of the 1962 suspension of Tulanian Ed Clark, a white from Tennessee, a member of CORE, who brought Black friends to the university cafeteria. They were served, but Dean Stibbs admonished him for violating univ. policies, and he was suspended. Ed married another activist, Connie Bradford, a white Newcomb student from Birmingham, and also a CORE member. She attended Newcomb on a work-scholarship. Her job was telephone operator; however, part of her duties were to listen in to the conversations of the radicals. As an incoming fresher, Connie would have been too new to be listening about the events of September 1960, but what about the others who worked the phones? Is this how Dean Stibbs knew whom to contact about trying to prevent any sit-ins in September 1960? The liberal university was listening in on private phone calls.

Stibbs writes of the “winter of our discontent,” when students showed more interest in social problems.(50) “Gradually, an indifference developed to the old and honorable areas of student interests – fraternities, football, and student government.”(50) In 1967 a major fraternity folded and new pledges declined from 500 to 300. He notes that in 1965 the Liberals Club was recognized at Tulane, but fails to mention that it's official recognition was delayed a year because somehow the Liberals Club application had been “lost.” Later, Dean Stibbs admitted to confiscating some photographs(59-63); was he responsible for the lost application?

The Drama department provided drama. Stibbs found Richard Schechner's request for increased funds an “impossible amount,”(53) though Schechner had raised the Tulane Drama Review to become the leading such publication. When he was criticized for having long hair, Schechner went to the French Quarter and posed beside the statue of General Andrew Jackson, the hero of New Orleans in the battle of 1815, stressing that the general had longer hair than he did. Eventually, Schechner left Tulane and took the review with him, with a new title, TDR - The Drama Review.

Dean Stibbs was a traditionalist, clearly more at home with football, frats, tiger napping, and student government, that social change. Some of his winter of discontent was part of a national trend – many young people did not want to risk their lives in the jungles of Vietnam. Civil Rights was a national issue. Drugs, female visitation to male dormitories, co-ed dormitories, these were part of national trends against older traditions.

However, Stibbs' greatest successes – the planning and building of the new student center, gave students a place to feel at home without joining a fraternity, a place to discuss issues in addition to the next party or football scores. Stibbs' own University Center provided a center to meet and organize activities beyond frats, football, and traditions. In that sense, Stibbs was more of a modernizer than he realized.

To clarify my position, I think one can acquire many excellent character traits through athletics. I think fraternities and sororities can and have often fostered emotional growth and friendships for most members. And I think participation in student government can provide experience in management, compromise, and how to accomplish certain ends. But I think there can be issues beyond those, unfashionable ones, unpopular ones, even illegal ones, that might also be considered.

When one Tulane publication on art and nudity planned to publish an article, including nude photos of 2 professors, Stibbs confiscated the pictures to prevent publication. He contended the pictures were immoral.(60-61, 63) He also invoked morality in delaying recognition of the gay student organization.(94) But overall, he fails to present major arguments against many of the trends he disapproved. In many important cases, he makes no case – he is silent, and the issues are ignored, swept under the carpets, omitted. Stibbs' memoir is defensive, deceptive, and disappointing. There should be a good book on the conservative reaction to the changes in universities following WWII. Unfortunately, Stibbs' account is not that book.