By William W. Joyce ’56
Lawrence Today magazine, Spring 2007
An item in The Chronicle of Higher Education last September predicted
that college students nationally would spend some $10 billion this year on
electronics. “Many first-year students moving into their dorms
unpack brand-new laptops or desktop computers,” The Chronicle wrote. “Their
cell phones have the latest features. And they don’t just have an iPod,
they have video iPods.” All of which started us thinking about times
and how they change, whereupon we asked Bill Joyce ’56 what he and his
classmates brought with them to Lawrence in the 1950s. He enlisted some help
from his spouse, Mary Basser Joyce ’57, and wrote the following reminiscence.
What didn’t we bring to campus in the ’50s? First, no television
sets. They were an expensive luxury. Only fraternities and the downtown bars
had them. At the Delt House, our diet of TV viewing was limited
to the news and weather, Liberace, the Mickey Mouse Club, and occasionally
such local fare as Eddie Fenz tickling the ivories at Jake Skall’s Colonial
Wonder Bar. Computers, cell phones, stereos, iPods, DVDs, CDs, camcorders,
and all other electronic devices weren’t available.
Alcoholic beverages were banned from campus. Resident students were not allowed
to have cars, though non-residents could. Imagine the immense popularity that “townies” commanded
from their fraternity- and dorm-bound classmates.
My well-organized wife, Mary [Basser Joyce ’57], brought a lot of essential
things to campus. For Rush: dresses, gloves, hats, blouses, high-heeled shoes,
nylon stockings, garter belts, and girdles. (Pantyhose had not been invented.)
For everyday use: cashmere sweaters, knee socks, skirts, penny loafers, and
saddle shoes. Today, sweaters with three to four inches of shirt showing, wash
pants, short boots, gym shoes, t-shirts, and the like are typically worn to
class by college women, although Mary claims that girls do dress up for Rush
at Michigan State.
Women students of my day brought to campus their own bedspreads with matching
pillow cases and curtains, plus portable record players and lots of 33s and
45s, manual portable typewriters, typing paper and carbon paper, and ink pens.
Ballpoints were expensive.
I owned one suit, a double-breasted “executive type” handed down
from my Uncle Lynn; a checkered sport coat with leather collar and arm patches;
and the usual array of shirts, loafers, and wash pants. I wore my suit and
sport coat more often than I would today, as there were more dress-up occasions.
Men’s clothing in the late ’50s was dull, dull, dull, spiced up
occasionally by Hawaiian sport shirts — the garish, rayon type with jungle
scenes of Rousseauean tigers and monkeys peeking out from palm trees — and
by sweatshirts bearing the names of colleges attended by the wearer or a family
member.
My fellow students brought unusual things to college. Mike Hammond ’54
brought a German-Latin dictionary for use in Professor Cunningham’s Latin
class (8:00 a.m. Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday) and actually used it, and
Jim Sackett ’55 brought his bagpipes to the Delt House — and practiced
a lot, it seemed. The most unusual item was a hearse and casket provided by “Digger” Seefeld’s
[’56] dad, an Oshkosh funeral director. Digger’s fraternity brothers,
dressed as pallbearers, carried him to a pep rally at the Chapel in a closed
casket, from which he triumphantly emerged to proclaim his candidacy for Homecoming
King. Did he win? What do you think?
A few sights and sounds created even more lasting impressions than the things
we brought with us in the ’50s: students sunning themselves on the first
bright, warm day on the roofs of fraternity houses and on the lawn behind the
Union; the delightful, unforgettable cacophony of musical sounds emanating
from the old Conservatory on Lawrence Street; the beacon-like dome of Main
Hall on a frosty January night; Professor Roelofs, rugged Calvinist that he
was, walking to class in 20-below weather minus coat and hat; Professor MacConagha
patiently explaining a difficult economic concept; students serenading President
Douglas Knight and his family on the eve of their move to Lawrence.
These memories of Lawrence of the ’50s will remain with me always. Thank
you for allowing me to share them.
William
W. Joyce ’56, professor of education and deputy director of the
Canadian Studies Centre at Michigan State University, is co-editor of the recent
book Teaching
About Canada and Mexico, published by the National Council for the Social
Studies. He currently is studying the treatment of Canada in the foreign press
and directing a series of curriculum and development projects centering on
the Great Lakes-St. Lawrence basin.
Photos of Brokaw Hall in 1953 and Sage Hall in 1951 courtesy of the Lawrence University Archives.