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 2nd
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.