UC Uptown, Blue Ash and Clermont campuses will be closing at 1:00 p.m. on December 6, 2013 due to predicted snowfall. (Please note that Hoxworth Blood Center and the College of Medicine are always operational.)
UC Uptown, Blue Ash and Clermont campuses will be closing at 1:00 p.m. on December 6, 2013 due to predicted snowfall. (Please note that Hoxworth Blood Center and the College of Medicine are always operational.)
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Love for history
I was not looking forward to taking American History, but I had to, so I signed up anyway. From my first night of class I knew that I would love Weis' class. His lectures were like watching it on television. He told stories, he didn't just lecture. Turns out, I love history! Who knew? Even better, I retained so much from this class due to the great stories he told. My only regret is that I waited so long to take American History. I would have taken as many classes as possible from him. When I think back on my time at UC I had many great teachers, but that one class always stands out to me. Weis obviously loved his work, and it showed in every class.
Melanie Slack, Cler '07
Palm Bay, Fla.
'Honest and down-to-earth'
Connie Ragiel taught several grad courses when I was working on my MSN in psychiatric nursing in the early 80's. She was the first person I encountered at UC who spoke in an honest, down-to-earth manner, addressing subjects and issues at UC and in psychiatric nursing frankly, warts and all.
She was very dedicated to patient care and looked at all other aspects of psychiatric nursing from the perspective of the patient. She "walked the talk", helping start a mental health clinic that took services to the homeless, engaging them on the street in order to make sure that care reached all who needed it.
She embodied compassion and passion. I enjoyed our discussions and appreciated her ability to get one to see each issue from a new perspective, no matter how experienced or knowedgable that person might already have been. Connie was an inspiration and I now seek to carry on her tradition with my own nursing students.
As a naive 18 year old, I was convinced that I should be a teacher. My high school resume was a dream for the College of Education — babysitting, day-care teacher and camp counselor. This was not an easy major, but Dr. Piyush Swami guided me gracefully through college.
Every year the curriculum was tougher, and every year I threatened to drop out. And Dr. Swami would convince me to just get through another quarter. I understood him to say that once I got into the next year, it would be better, more fun!
Fun? I took my science classes at the zoo. He walked with the class. Summer art was fantastic — taught by an elementary-school teacher. Yes, it was better, more fun!
In 1993 when I graduated from UC, I had learned so many valuable lessons: My teaching and communication skills (from Thom Joyce's classes) work beautifully in an Alzheimer's Disease setting. My two children know the beauty of a good book and how it can relate to their world (Whole Language). I can design an incredible bulletin board for my kids' school. And a membership to a zoo can entertain both young and old, while supporting precious animals.
So, I may not be a teacher, but I learned that a college degree does offer benefits in unexpected ways! Thank you, Dr. Swami.
Heather Cohen Satlof, Ed ’93
Inspiring generations of philosophy students
I am delighted that you paid appropriate tribute to Dr. Rollin Workman. It was he who inspired me and generations of students like me to major in philosophy and to appreciate the complexity as well as the thoughtfulness and relevance of philosophy and philosophers throughout the ages.
As a student in the joint undergraduate program which existed between Hebrew Union College-Jewish Institute of Religion and UC, Dr. Workman spent a great deal of time with the students of HUC-JIR. Through his friendship, kindness and guidance, to say nothing of his excellence of his academic achievements and his teaching ability, he certainly has made his mark (and obviously continues to make his mark) on so very many students.
Thank you, Dr. Workman!
By the way, from the look of your picture, you haven't changed a bit!
Sheldon Harr, A&S '68
Another student's enriching experience
I was much interested in your essay on "Class Acts" in the February issue, featuring Rollin Workman, and the course on the history of ethics he taught for so many years. Pardon a bit of history, but I think the course originated as "War and Ideas" during WWII, and was team-taught by Prof. Howard D. Roelofs, and two other profs, from economics and political science. Then, after the war, it became "Man and Ideas," etc. I took the course with Dr. Roelofs, as a senior, during the '57-'58 school year.
Rollin came to UC the next year, and sort of supervised the teaching assistants, and acted as one, too, along with me and Harvey Mullane. The next year Dr. Roelofs retired, Rollin took over the course, Harvey went to the University of Michigan (for a year), and I became Rollin's first (and only, for that year) graduate assistant. It was a very enriching experience; Rollin was (and is) a great teacher!!
I am officially retired now, but still teach one course per term, in my 45th year here at Baylor. Unlike Rollin, I have taken to the Internet, and anyone looking at my syllabus will see that I have modeled much of what I try to do on Rollin's course:
Oh, I also, along with my wife, do volunteer work (at the local hospital), and work out three times per week. This is only to say that Rollin is right again; retirement should mean finding some other useful work to do, not hitting the hammock, and watching the soaps--I wish him ANOTHER 80 useful years; UC is so very fortunate to have this great guy on their campus!
Elmer Duncan, PhD A&S '58, MA (A&S) '60, PhD (A&S) '62
A brush with Bing Crosby
Thank you for the article on my boss of days of yore. I worked for Mr. Ziv in the late '40s , De Sails corner. What a memory we had. I recall his asking me to find a packet of paper "up in the storage room, tied with a green string, with a yellow sheet marked Bing." Then he added, "not the one with Crosby, the one marked Bing, and it should be with the 1933 files unless we moved it to the California file." Sure enough it was just where he said it would be. Also, you might ask Dean Nelcamp (UC Evening College) about Mr. Ziv's ability to notice the one paper from the hundred on your desk, which was handled wrong. Mr. Ziv enjoyed jazz and being with young folks, one might see him at Mecklinbergs any Friday or Saturday night. Thanks for the memory.
Charles Ellman, Eve '59,
A kind boss
I really enjoyed your February issue very much, particularly the feature "Class Acts." The piece about Fred Ziv brought back memories of almost 62 years ago, when I worked for Mr. Ziv. I had just graduated Walnut Hills High School, and I thought that I wanted to pursue a glamorous career in advertising, as portrayed in Mademoiselle Magazine. My grandmother asked her bridge partner, Rose Ziv, if I could have a summer job with Mrs. Ziv's son, Frederick, to try out the profession.
He kindly took me on. My job, among other things, was to write a précis of each Boston Blackie episode and send one to each of the radio stations that carried the series. I remember a lot of mimeographing and postage metering, and particularly corresponding with Station WPAR in Parkersburg, WV.
On August 14, VJ Day, I went off to celebrate the end of World War II, and that was the end of my brief career in advertising. I became a freshman at the university soon after that historic date and discovered my true academic love, Economics — and never did get to live in New York City.
Alice Wiley Schlessinger, A&S '49
I first met Fred when he had just retired after selling his company (then UA-TV, which in about 1960 bought Ziv-TV) and he had returned to his hometown of Cincinnati and showed up at CCM to hold some seminars. He also kept a residence in Palm Desert in California.
I graduated in 1968 and went to UCLA for graduate studies and while there went down to visit Fred in the desert. He agreed to a request by me to write my master's thesis about the history of his company. After a two-year delay due to military induction, I was finishing the thesis when I needed to return to his desert home to clear up some questions I had encountered in the research.
Fred had successfully adapted some of his radio syndicated shows to television, one of which was "Boston Blackie", a detective yarn. In researching the contracts, I couldn't cleanly track the rights issues from radio to television. When I asked Fred about the missing documents, he showed his frequently exhibited impish grin and commented to the fact that he couldn't wait to clear up all the rights issues, and he clearly remembered just going ahead with it and worring about it later!
Obviously simpler times and a less litigious society!
His success with Ziv-TV was, and still is, unprecedented. I believe it was 1957 when Ziv-TV, an independent company, owned something like four of the top eight shows then on television (not sure any more of the exact numbers) competing against the then three national networks. All that from an attorney from Michigan who repurposed local advertising for rye bread on records for radio stations in the Midwest.
He was always a gracious man that wore his success well.
Tom Bruehl, CCM '68
Master of the chase
He was passionate about his work and his stories revealed the passion. It is exciting to be around someone who is passionate and successful. He was clear that a good show needed good writing. "In the beginning was the word." We heard that often.
He explained that his formula was a simple one, it was the chase. The chase underwater was "Sea Hunt." The chase on land was "Highway Patrol" with the besotted Broderic Crawford. The chase on horseback was "Cisco Kid."
He was comfortable with us. Happy to tell stories. He'd stress fundamentals of storytelling. He seemed to relish his place as teacher at the head of the seminar table. He wanted to be there as teacher, he wanted us to benefit from what he knew.
What I do remember is that he was modest about his accomplishments and as I recall didn't need to tell us how wonderful he was.
Jef Gamblee, CCM, '74
Staten Island, N.Y.
Instilled a dream
Although I'm sure he doesn't remember me, I vividly remember Lanthan Camblin's class as one of the best classes I had taken at U. of Cincinnati. After his course, I had a strong interest in Human Development and wanted to teach it. His course really inspires me to this day. I am currently a Ph.D. student in Human Development and Family Science at the Ohio State University, fulfilling my dream to become a professor and hopefully teach and conduct research in the Human Development and Family Science field. I owe a great deal of my desire to continue my education to Professor Camblin, and I was thrilled to see him spotlighted in the UC Magazine. Thanks for such a great job and making such an impression on me even (almost) 10 years later!
'Your lives are changed forever'
It was December 8, 1941, a Monday, and it was a busy after-lunch time in the UC News Record offices as the student staff prepared to get the twice-weekly paper ready for publication. But we took time out to gather around the little radio in the office of Editor Carl Rubin to listen to President Franklin D. Roosevelt and Congress and the declaration of World War II.
Into the office, wearing a suit jacket but no topcoat on this cold, wintry day -- he never wore a coat as he wandered across campus, even on the coldest days -- came Dean George B. Barbour of the College of Liberal Arts (now A&S). He huddled with us in the hushed atmosphere of that little room. When war had been officially declared, he broke the silence.
"Young ladies and gentlemen," he said in a quiet voice, "Your lives are changed forever." And with that, he turned, walked to the door and disappeared. How true those words were to be.
Through those troublesome times, until today, I still remember Dean Barbour's wise and foretelling comment.
Ethel Samuels Rosner, A&S '45
A calming presence during wartime
My memories of Dr. Carlson are pretty vague. After all, I graduated 60 years ago. I do remember being on campus during WW II. That was quite an experience. The world was in chaos, but Dr. C. was always cheerful, calm, and devoted to his subject matter. He seemed to be just as devoted to the students.
Garnet Greenspan Silverblatt, A&S '47
Frequent bathing causes wrinkles
I was delighted to read the February, 2007 tribute to Gus Carlson in the UC Magazine. He was the finest professor I had (out of many outstanding teachers) during my undergraduate years. I graduated from UC with high honors in 1962. The two Carlson pronouncements I best remember from my Carlson class and have retold many times since then:
“China regains world hegemony approximately every 500 years." In 1960-61, Carlson forecast that the 500 years would occur in 2010.” He may be literally off by 5 to 15 years, but who among us does not believe China will be top dog by 2020?
“Americans bathe too frequently and that is why we have more wrinkled skin at an earlier age than do Europeans.” Oh, if I had only believed that one.
Nina Jaffe Gruen, A&S '62, MA (A&S) '63
El Cerrito, Calif.
Overcame devastation with kindness
As a senior in geology in the spring of 1973, I was devastated when I was rejected by Texas for grad school. I had no idea what to do next, nor could I ever seem to locate the advisor to whom I had originally been assigned. Professor Warren Huff took it upon himself to locate, on my behalf, schools not only with openings for grad students, but with assistantship money still available. I got my MS from Florida in 1975 and went into the workforce, but promised myself that I would take every opportunity I had to repay Professor Huff for his kindness. I look forward to seeing my friend again in April at the 100th anniversary celebration of UC's Department of Geology.
Michael Fein, A&S '73
'He had us in tears with laughter.'
When I took his course, Modern American Novel, Dr. Wiebe recently had written a modern American novel himself: "Sky Blue The Bad Ass." Kind of a poor man's "The Ginger Man." Not a big seller. Still, the good doctor knew his stuff. He taught us to look for things in the novel we never would've considered -- class/gender conflict, sexual undertones, power relationships. It was the late '60s, and he was the right professor at the right time.
I still read a novel the Wiebe way. But what I ultimately remember is how funny he was. Once he came to class unprepared, and for 5-10 minutes mimed a lecture -- moving his hands about, pacing with his arms behind his back, rubbing his chin. We pretended to take notes. A couple students raised their hands without asking a question, and Dr. Wiebe responded with non-verbal answers.
Another time, he read from a brochure for a theme park named Bibleland, saying, "Take the train ride to the seven stations of the cross! Walk through the whale and talk to Jonah!" More than once that quarter he had us in tears with laughter.
I was 19, naive, impressionable, hero-worshipping, and Dr. Wiebe was so brilliantly demented I figured he had to be a genius. Still to this day, I'm not sure he wasn't.
Ron Lanham, A&S '72
A way to look at life
Dr. Austin Wright (I could never comfortably call him Austin, though he encouraged me to once I was no longer his student) gave me nothing less than a way to look at life, not only literature. His method encouraged inquisitiveness and critical thinking. He showed us, rather than told us, how to enter a narrative from any number of points to determine what exactly was the point. In a way, he spoiled me, ruined forever my ability to look non-analytically at a short story, a novel, a movie or a play.
He also encouraged me to pursue my personal interests. When I wanted to write my dissertation on the female characters in Saul Bellow’s novels -- before the days of Women’s Studies or Judaic Studies -- he enabled me to do it and stuck with me although I was living in Kansas. He stayed in touch and responded immediately, long before e-mail.
At the time I was an undergraduate, the English department had money from the Ford Foundation for a three-year master’s program. Students began taking accelerated courses in their junior year, wrote a senior thesis and studied at the MA level for one year. During that year, participants also were assigned to a professor/mentor, observing his or her classes, grading papers and occasionally teaching the professor’s courses.
In other words, rather than just throwing us into a classroom as teaching assistants, we had the opportunity to learn how to teach from the true masters. I was thrilled when Austin Wright told me that he had asked for me to be his assistant, “if that’s all right with you.” I could not have imagined a greater honor.
I carry these memories with me as a blessing. Dr. Wright blessed us all. He was a great teacher and a gentle, caring human being.
Sherry Levy-Reiner, A&S ‘68, MA (A&S) ‘69, PhD (A&S) ‘80
People came first
This is not a story about a faculty member but rather one about the university's president. Walter Langsam had been a history professor but when I met him as a senior he was president of the university, and he invited every graduating senior to his home for dinner. The Spanish-style home was on Clifton Avenue, and the buffet dinners were a very special way to cap a senior year. Dr. Langsam and his wife mingled about the students and he addressed many by name. We were always amazed that he seemed to know who we were.
About 15 years later I returned to UC, joining the library faculty. One day I was waiting for an elevator in the new library and looked sideways to see then-retired Dr. Langsam also waiting. When I said "Good morning Dr. Langsam. It's nice to see you again." He said, "Good to see you also Marcia. Welcome back to UC." I was speechless. Walter Langsam always put people first, and I will continue to treasure that special morning greeting.
Marcia Deddens, A&S '65
Math teacher provides life lessons
Shortly before I graduated from Cincinnati's Withrow High School in 1928 and before I knew what I was going to do next, my mathematics teacher, Helen Swineford, suggested I talk with Dr. Herman Schneider at UC. The very idea of an undecided high school student getting advice from the president of a university seemed to me ludicrous. Nevertheless, a few days later, she made an appointment for me to see Dr. Schneider.
The time arrived, and I shivered in my boots as I approached his office. He greeted me warmly and acted as if he had nothing else to do but talk to young people who could not make up their minds. From him, I learned why he was willing to share a busy day with me. He told me that during his tenure as dean of engineering some of the best math students had received their training under Miss Swineford and that he had a very high regard for her and her products. I can't remember much of our conversation, but it led to my decision to enter UC. The rest is history.
Now, more than three quarters of a century later, I have no connections with the Cincinnati area except your magazine and many warm memories. Thank you.
P.S. I wonder how many of Miss Swineford's students are still among the living.
H.W. Abplanalp, A&S '33
La Jolla, Calif.
Inspires students with 'living history'
Professor Lorman is exactly the type of teacher every college
student hopes to have. He inspires students with what seems to be living
history. As an education student in social studies, I often found myself
critiquing his teaching methods, his style, his use of Bloom's Taxonomy.
All of it was perfect! I have taken at least one class with Professor
Lorman each year during my undergraduate studies, and I will be sad to no
longer be in his class. Professor Lorman IS the reason I love UC.
Nicola Bagwell, CECH student (expected to graduate in 2009)
Editor's note: We originally found the photo at right in files at UC's Archives and Rare Books Department. We knew nothing more than the college and year, but we believed our readers would fill in the missing data if asked. And you certainly did.
More than two dozen of you identified the beloved professor Phil Foster, wearing his signature bow tie. Some of you also furnished student IDs. Imagine our surprise when the female student in the picture, Suzi Lesh Gerstl, called us one day to share her story, too. Finally, the photographer contacted us.
Born in Elsmere, Ky., Phil Foster (1915-99) [left in photo] was a painter and art educator who often exhibited in group exhibitions both locally and internationally. He received his BFA from the Art Academy of Cincinnati in 1933 and an honorary doctorate in 1986. After his undergraduate study, Foster worked for Burton Rogers as a commercial artist in Product Presentations. He was an instructor at UC from 1947-86 in the College of Design, Architecture, Art, and Planning.
Below we share a letter from Gerstl, a note from the photographer and excerpts from other alumni letters.
Students in photo identified
I was surprised to see a photograph of our painting class (c. 1963) in your April issue. In an instant, I was back 48 years ago sitting in the studio listening to the gravelly voice of professor Foster, smelling paint and linseed oil, and enjoying DAA's endless view of Burnet Woods. The unidentified are: professor Phil Foster, Bill Seiple, Stan Waechter and myself.
Those were golden years, our time of artistic endeavor. The campus was small, and everyone knew each other at least by sight. No computers, cell phones or even color TVs to distract us.
We studied in an ultramodern building at the edge of campus, complete with a gem of a library on the second floor. Students in DAA worked long hours, but it was a labor of love.
We had amazing students and professors: Mr. Quale, freehand drawing; Mr. Grooms and Mr. Foster, painting; Hope Warner, history of civilization; Dr. Issay Balinkin, physics; plus many others. All were authorities and inspiring.
Beautiful, calm and insightful Mary Light headed our department. She never missed a beat and led us girls in design technique.
There was little pressure. We put that on ourselves. Rather, we were encouraged to follow our creative spirit.
It wasn"t all work -- lots of parties, almost every weekend. At one luau, the guys brought in sand for the floor and fashioned palm trees. At another, we met in a former speakeasy. The exotic Beaux Arts Ball gave "arties" a chance to strut their stuff.
And who could forget the super elegant dinner thrown by Lambda Chi's? It was going great until a loud explosion emanated from the kitchen. Their ambitious baked Alaska had taken a turn for the worse and blew up all over everywhere. No problem. We scraped it up and enjoyed every morsel.
It was a wonderful run. I treasure the time spent at UC. Thank you for your beautiful magazine and bringing back memories.
Suzi Lesh Gerstl, DAAP '63
By now, I'm sure you've had a flurry of responses to the back-page photo. It's nice to see one of my many photographs from the '63 Cincinnatian. It felt like I lived on campus that year since I spent endless hours at the yearbook's Union office.
I'm still a Clifton resident, just a couple of miles away. It's hard to imagine that when we graduated, the campus had totaled 10,000 full-time day students. My, how the time flies!
Anita Stith Marks, DAAP '63
Designer/editor-in-chief/photographer, 1963 Cincinnatian
Excerpts from other letters about Phil Foster
I would stop in to see Phil Foster when I could get to town. In later years at DAAP, when students wore interesting clothes and had spiked, colored hair, he would look out the door at them and say, "Aren't they just beautiful?" He always loved students so much.
At the canvas, I think, is Roger Barron. I was in advertising and industrial design, but Roger was in interior design, I believe.
Mary McMullen Schultz, DAAP '63
I graduated from the School of Architecture. The professor is our beloved Philip Foster. I had him for freehand drawing, as all of the architectural students did. I still get a Christmas card from his wife [Jane, DAAP & Ed '37] after all of these years.L.
Edward Kime, DAAP '60
Phil Foster was a wonderful artist and an excellent teacher. He always wore a bow tie that matched the color of his socks, even in the 1970s. He lost an eye in an accident and had a glass eye that he would pop out during class to wipe off with his handkerchief.
Phil Foster was my mentor, teacher and adviser. I always kept in touch with him, and in the early '80s, I visited him out at his studio in Miamitown, where his wife still lives.
He was such a good teacher, and he really pushed his students to be better. He always made you think and was a very tough critic.
In painting class, if your water was too dirty, he would flick his cigarette ashes in the bucket. That was his signal to get clean water. Believe it or not, in the 1970s, we could smoke in class.
I remember that when we were seniors, he told us that in 10 years only 10 percent of us would still be doing art. I wish I could tell him that I am one of those 10 percent, and I owe it to him.
Suzanne Rusconi Accetta, DAAP '75
Phil, I thought, was a great art teacher when I was a student and, later, a wonderful friend once I became an associate professor of architecture in DAAP. Phil had a great, dry sense of humor that was pronounced during faculty parties, especially between him and professor Robert Deshon [see next letter]. Their relationship has been the basis for great memories and storytelling.
Don Stevens, DAAP '60
That's Phil Foster, artist and raconteur, sharing his expertise with the youth of 1962. Their varied facial expressions and body postures were familiar to faculty. The photo is appropriate for the "after dark" issue of "UC Magazine" because Phil kept the light burning during his night classes.
He and my husband, architect Robert [A&S '34, DAAP '39], both had afternoon class until 4:30 or 5 p.m., then dinner in the faculty dining room and maybe a quick lie-down in the lounge before night class at 6:30 p.m. Fortunately, that schedule was not a permanent one.
Miriam Deshon, A&S '41
Phil Foster used to sit and visit with students, as the picture shows. He was an exceptional teacher and had great rapport with his students.
Alice Springfield, DAAP & Ed '66
Fort Collins, Colo.
The stories we could tell you about Phil. We had a life class with him, and the famous life model was Florence. She would come out in draped fabric and pose.
Someone in class, who shall remain unnamed, put handprint paint splotches on the fabric with paint the same color as the fabric, so you couldn't see it. Florence got up from lying on the floor, and she had handprints on her butt and all over.
Judy Walters Powers, DAAP & Ed '57
Phil Foster, a painter and a great guy, always had time for students and their needs. I was an adjunct instructor in the mid '70s, and Phil was one of my favorite faculty.
The haircut, glasses and bowtie are unmistakable of Phil Foster, DAA's esteemed painting prof. His widow, Jane, cares for Phil's legacy of beautiful watercolors and arranges for exhibits.
Jane Naberhaus Gardner, DAAP & Ed '57
Phil Foster was an excellent teacher. He hosted his students at his home from time to time. I hope he is not forgotten.
Jack Iams, DAAP '56
I came here in '73, and Phil Foster became one of my mentors. He made a place for me in the university and was part of the group who created an art department at the college. I have gratitude for those who came before me.
Professor, DAAP School of Art
Phil and Jane Foster lived on the banks of the Miami River, and I used to go out there to fish. I rarely caught anything,
but it was a lovely spot. Thanks for the memories.
I don't know the name of the young woman, but I do remember her walking through the open end of the quadrangle on her way to and from DAA.
William White, Eng. '63
The cinder block classroom denotes the DAA part of the building that faces the driveway.
Assistant to the dean, DAAP
Taught art students to 'see'
Phil Foster must have been born a curmudgeon. He was a wizened Popeye of a man who was the greatest art teacher I will ever have. He's the only person I known who could mix white, yellow and green pigment into a beautiful blue hue. Most of the mythic stories about him are true. I witnessed this iconic example: Phil didn't teach you to draw; he taught you to see. His technique involved capturing a still-life with a single line that divided your canvas precisely in half. The drama of that first line could be something to behold, but its complexity often eluded the best of us. When an ashtray was not close at hand and a student's work somehow deserved it, Phil would put out his ever-present cigarette in a strategic location on your drawing. Funny thing was, it often made an interesting composition out of a mediocre exercise.
Provocative, entertaining and accessible
Planning Prof. Forusz was an expansive thinker and shared his love of learning at every opportunity. He was provocative, entertaining, and accessible. But what I remember best are his three main ideas that he would frequently bring up in his teaching: (1) Always visit the site -- a planner thing -- (2) Make a commitment to something in your life, e.g., either family, career, a cause, etc., and (3) Power corrupts and corrupts absolutely. These three ideas have served me well over the years -- among many other opinions about urban design and life that Harris (as he was better known) was readily willing to share. Hail Harris, long gone but not forgotten!
Henry Jackson, DAAP '74
'Character and dignity second to none'
Early upon my arrival as an engineering student, in Dorm D, (now that is ancient history) I listened to tales of the infamous engineering course Tech Mech (Technical Mechanics) and it’s absolute monarch, Prof. R. L. Hundley, who was credited with creating more six-year engineers than anyone else. When my turn came to experience that legend I found that the scuttlebutt was quite inaccurate.
Robert Hundley was a model professor who gave passing grades only to those who proved beyond a doubt that they had comprehended, digested and were capable of applying their knowledge of the subject via the solution of individual daily problems as well as bi/tri weekly tests. Professor Hundley maintained absolute academic control of his class in a respectful manner while exhibiting an occasional sense of humor. He was a man of superior teaching ability with character and dignity second to none.
William Koenecke, Eng '55
Glen Rock, NJ
Inspired students with her extra effort
My friend Jenifer and I loved the personal notes Dr. Amspaugh wrote on all of our papers in her elementary reading/literacy course. It was evident that she took the time to read every word each student wrote, because there were little comments, smiley faces and inspiring remarks in every section. It encouraged me to work harder and "say" what I wanted to say in the best way possible. She really had a relationship with the students in her classes and a passion for teaching. When Jenifer and I had to write lengthy papers for other professors, we were so disappointed not to find any comments--there was simply a grade on the front page. So, we (Jenifer and I) traded papers and wrote our own "Amspaugh-ish" remarks for each other! I still have some of the pieces I wrote in Dr. Amspaugh's classes and I enjoy reading what she wrote with her pencil all over them. The words still inspire me as a teacher and as a person.
Denise Kramer Kushner, Ed '90, Med '97
How to fight for a job -- literally
Kay King was the first truly freethinking professor I had the pleasure of having. I will never forget her putting a shoe in the middle of two of us (in Drama class) and saying it represented a job. "What are you going to do?" The two of us battled for that shoe!
Her "sensitivity sessions" really helped provide a new perspective on getting in touch with ourselves. It may have been the first self-reflective course I had been through and that proved valuable to my future.
Mary Blair, Ed '72
A diagnosis that'll make you squirm
Dr. Foshay was best known as the describer of Cat Scratch Fever and the developer of the serological test for Tularemia. He lectured every day at 1:00 PM and his "sing-song" voice tended to make students sleepy so he spiced his lectures with humorous anecdotes. They were the same every year. The most memorable ones were on sexually transmitted diseases when he pointed out that "venereal diseases were transmitted by the sexual route only; however, they had been known to be transmitted through contact with doorknobs and toilet seats. However, these latter modes of transmission were usually reserved by physicians for other physicians and members of the clergy."
When I was on the Internal Medicine Ward he was called to consult on a patient that had peculiar abdominal pains. We all stood by the patient's bed while the chief resident presented the history to Dr. Foshay. At the very moment that the resident finished his presentation, the patient became nauseated. Without saying a word, Dr. Foshay reached for the emesis basin on the nightstand and held it in front of the patient's mouth. The patient then threw up a live 8" red ascaris parasitic worm into the basin. Without saying a word Dr. Foshay looked at the parasite, handed the basin to the resident, smiled and walked away. Diagnosis made! No one ever forgot that ascariasis causes abdominal pain.
Dr. Foshay died that year from a melanoma. I was in the last class he taught (Bacteriology/Parasitology). He was a wonderful teacher.
Dr. Edward Miller, MD '61
One 'moooving' experience
And then there was the night that someone's cow needed to be X-rayed and the only machine capable of doing the job was the one at The Cincinnati General Hospital. The cow arrived in the dark of night, was led through the basement halls beneath the "The General" to the X-ray department where Dr. Felson supervised the radiological study. The radiology resident was assigned to remain close behind the cow with a bucket for the inevitable — which did in fact occur. The bucket worked, the study was completed and the cow was saved.
Besides being a brilliant radiologist, Dr. Felson was a great teacher and a wonderful inspiration to many young medical students and residents. (YouTube video describes medical terms coined by Dr. Felson, including "Aunt Minnie.")
Dr. Edward Miller, MD '61
He made language exciting
Carl Mills taught my introduction to linguistics course, and I always looked forward to taking the other courses he taught throughout my college career.
I still remember a principle he would often repeat, one I use myself even to this day: When we are presented with two credible alternatives and asked to choose between them, sometimes the answer is simply "Yes!"
Carl knew how to connect his excitement about the idea of language to anyone who showed even some interest in the subject. He also knew how to encourage a student while evaluating them honestly; not an easy combination to find in this world.
He said something else I'm not likely to forget, that "some day the study of language will probably become a branch of biology," an idea that I believe is gradually coming true.
Part of a small but great linguistics program at UC, I know Carl Mills is missed by many to this day. He left us too soon, and often I think of him and what he taught me.
Doug Pennington, A&S '02
A student of Robert Frost
James Robinson had taught in the English department for decades before I arrived, but not long before then he had been very ill and its toll was heavy. Still standing tall and dignified despite these new disabilities, he was back on campus to teach a seminar on the British novelist and poet Thomas Hardy and works like "The Mayor of Casterbridge" that Professor Robinson had written on extensively.
Perhaps because he felt how much closer he was to the end of his university days than he was to their middle, he told many tales of being a student at Harvard, especially of his favorite teacher, the legendary poet Robert Frost. The story he seemed to tell most often was from September 1st, 1939, after Hitler's forces had crashed into Poland igniting World War II. The students waited anxiously for whatever wisdom and insight the great Frost, who'd already won three of his four Pulitzer Prizes, would share about the grave news. He entered the room and began: "In times like these …" — he then paused and inexplicably, for the moment, smiled. He then added what stayed with Professor Robinson, and then me, for so many years. "Whatever times have there ever been?" That was Frost's somber but reassuring question. It is the story I told my students on September 12th, 2001. I try to make sure I mention Professor Robinson and this legacy to many of my classes, such as Creative Writing or Literature or Education courses, and they seem to appreciate knowing that each is the student of a student of a student of Robert Frost, only a few degrees of separation from "Mending Wall" and "The Road Not Taken."
I had told the stories to a lively first-year English course at UC before they talked me into taking them outside one warm, bright morning. We headed for the center of McMicken Hall, under its steeple, to the colonial style carriage entrance facing Clifton Avenue at the end of the brick and cement walkway announced by the small stone lions, Mick and Mack. While I was talking to my class as they sat on the short white walls, I saw a car pull up near the lions and someone help Professor Robinson out and up the few steps onto the walkway. He greeted me warmly by name and I did likewise. As he got seven or eight feet away, I motioned to my students to lean in closer as if I had a secret. "That's my teacher who studied under Robert Frost," I loudly whispered and the entire class then swung their faces and shoulders back toward the building, a few letting out a low "woooo," as they watched him ease himself under the red brick archway and walk into the shadows of memory.
Michael Young, A&S '89
Kept politics out of the classroom
Dr. McGrane set the tone of Contemporary Problems (one of the few humanities in the fixed, no electives engineering program of the time) at a high level in the very first class session. He advised that he had been a delegate to every National Democratic Nominating Convention since 1932 but did not knowingly bias his classroom presentations and welcomed any input to the contrary. No input was ever offered to my knowledge, as the class was exemplary in both its content and presentation.
Despite my unsophisticated background and engineering education and career, I hold professors Reginald McGrane and Robert Hundley in the highest esteem in every category and have endeavored to follow their lead in my career and private life.
William Koenecke, Eng '55
Glen Rock, NJ
Recalls grade of student's father
In 1956-57, I was a senior majoring in American history, and Dr. Reginald McGrane was one of my professors in an upper level history course. At the end of the course, Dr, McGrane either said to me in person, or wrote in one of my Blue Books (do they still use those?), "Mr. Parry, you sure aren't the history student your father was." Guess what? He had taught American history to my father as a civil engineering student in 1924-25 and remembered him getting a grade of 100 percent in his course! I told this to my then-living father, and he remembered Dr. McGrane's course.
P.S. Some of his students, but certainly not I, referred to him as Dr. Migraine.
Roger Parry, A&S '57
A fiery lecture
Once during a lecture, Lou Laushey, "Lightning Lou" as we called him, got so caught up in his lecture (hydraulics) that he placed a lit cigar in his shirt pocket. After it started smoking, he ran out in the hall and put it out in the water fountain, came back in and continued the lecture. He was a very intelligent man, but nobody's perfect!
David Schneider, Eng '85
Demonstrated humanity, investigated racism
I remember Len Lansky (intro to social psychology) best for his role model of how to bring humanity into teaching. He gave his classes more than information -- he gave of himself. Under his tutelage, I helped design the group project that I am proudest of when I think back on my time at UC -- a project in which group members investigated racism in housing by posing as prospective apartment renters. It was a bold, potentially controversial project, but Dr. Lansky encouraged us all the way. On a personal note, on two occasions Dr. Lansky's professional references resulted in my receiving job offers. I am sure he is no longer teaching, but wherever he is, I thank him for the model he presented, which I incorporate in my teaching style today, and the encouragement he gave to a young black girl raised in the projects.
Cynthia Baloyi, A&S '72
Guiding students with a personal touch
Gerry Weller was my favorite during my four-year college education because she was empathetic to my situation -- working full time while earning my degree! When I went to Cincinnati to receive my diploma with
the graduating class, she was my personal tour guide, introducing me to faculty that I had only known by name through classes.
Linda Plaisance, Ed '05
Bill Middendorf was an excellent teacher, kind and a good listener. I have used his book in my professional life — a career that would not have happened without Dr. Alexander Bereskin (Papa Bear - semiconductors) and without the discipline that Carl Osterbrock gave me.
Harry Hollack, Eng '67
One among many to thank
David Jacobs was my freshman English professor, and he was so good that took sophomore English with him. I was introduced to John Coltrain and photography through him and have fond memories of him and his wife, Marsha, who welcomed us into their home. I still own one of David's photos that he sold to me.
George Kisker was my freshman psych prof, and I took his Abnormal Psych course. He used hypnosis to show us the power of it and asked us, as a post-hypnotic suggestion, to send a postcard to him if our grades improved from his three sessions on study skills. I made the dean's list for the rest of college and got a full scholarship for graduate school because of better grades, and I did send him that postcard the summer after the class.
There were so many very wonderful professors who made lonely Thanksgivings better and guided my career and helped me get that graduate scholarship.
Best wishes to all of them, and thank you.
Beth Rosenberg Kauffman, Ed '72
Like a second father
Professor Eugene E. Blee was like a second father to me. Not a day goes by that I do not think of him and my beloved father. His wisdom, patience, elevated standards of performance and self-discipline, combined with his calm mentorship of a student who, at the time of the student's attendance at CCM (trumpet), was rather un-noteable, resulted in a changed life. That unmotivated student was this writer, now a professor in both a graduate teacher education Program as well as professor/ administrator in an interdisciplinary arts program at Nova Southeastern University in Florida. The sense of critical self-examination, self-discipline, incorporation of high standards and expectations of students, and elevated performance, which I demand, are a direct result of the teaching and supportive reinforcement, which is the legacy of Eugene E. Blee, a master artist-musician and teacher.
Thanks to UC for the opportunity to speak of this great man.
Alan Altman, CCM '66
A pair of 'learned colleagues'
Dr. Hilmar Krueger, who taught medieval history, and Dr. Malcolm MacGregor, who taught ancient history (Greece and Rome), were colorful individuals and fascinating lecturers who directed the early European history major. They spoke of each other as "my learned colleague," and indeed, the sobriquets were merited. Both professors actually invited the graduating seniors in the major to their homes for a farewell dinner. We thought all the professors did that, but later discovered how unique they were. Needless to say our undergraduate major courses were a delight and the "learned colleagues" an unforgettable collegiate experience!
John Purcell, A&S '54, Ed '55
Middleburg Heights, Ohio