vtspecblogger Local/Regional History, Uncategorized, University History

Remembering Solitude, 1908-1914

Solitude, 1908 with Robert and Richard
Solitude, 1908 with Richard and Robert

Blacksburg, Virginia, 1908-1914 offers a rare glimpse of what it was like to live in Solitude. The narrative is Chapter II in a larger work, We Remember, that Stevenson Whitcomb and Margaret Rolston Fletcher wrote for their children and their childrens children. Dr. Robert H. Fletcher, Professor Emeritus at Harvard Medical School (son of Steve, Jr.); his cousin Marcia Fletcher Clark (daughter of Richard); and her daughter, Lisa Snook Young have graciously permitted us to share these images and text from the narrative. The family retains copyright. Plans are underway in the University Archives to construct an Internet exhibition with more images of Solitude and the Fletcher family and a link to the full text of the Fletchers Blacksburg chapter.

In 1908, Professor Fletcher moved to Blacksburg with his wife Margaret and their two young sons, Robert and Richard. He came to Virginia Agricultural and Mechanical College and Polytechnic Institute, as Virginia Tech was then named, as Professor of Experimental Agriculture and Director of the Virginia Agricultural Experiment Station. After a week at the frigid Blacksburg Inn and nine months in three long narrow rooms in the Library that were usually reserved for the accommodation of the trustees, we were released on probation, and the family moved into Solitude. Two more children, Steve and Peter, were born at Solitude.

Solitude Living Room, 1913
Solitude Living Room, 1913

Virginia Techs oldest structure, Solitude is the homeplace of the university. From humble origins as a log cabin built in 1801, Solitude grew into the colonial home of two Virginia governors and the home of Robert Preston who sold the property in 1872 to provide land for the new Virginia land grant college, Virginia Agricultural and Mechanical College.

 

Winter Sports at Solitude, November 1913
Winter Sports at Solitude, November 1913

The narrative describes the setting of the lovely home:

The yard was shaded by a number of locust trees, beneath which bluegrass grew luxuriantly, and by red maples and a giant pine, remnants of the virgin forest. The gravel walk to the house was bordered by a box hedge. There was a clump of cinnamon fern by the doorstep, and in the spring Poets Narcissus nodded gracefully in the breeze. Across the road was a pond on which the boys skated in winter. Back of the house was a bluegrass meadow through which meandered a little branch. Beyond this was a wooded hill on top of which stood the Presidents mansion.”

According to the account, the family lived well on Professor Fletchers salary: Steves salary was $3,000 and house; this was equal in purchasing power to at least $9,000 today [note: We Remember was written in 1951).

 

Miss Rosa Parrott's Kindergarten
Miss Rosa Parrott’s Kindergarten

Margaret Fletcher started a kindergarten taught by Miss Rosa Parrott. Robert, Richard, and Steve enrolled. The playroom in our house was her schoolroom and our yard was their playground. Miss Rosa Parrott later married Dr. E. B. Fred, president of the University of Wisconsin.

After Santa Came, 1913
After Santa Came, 1913

The narrative recalls how Christmas was observed at Solitude:

In one corner of the living room, by the fireplace, stood a glittering Christmas tree trimmed with strings of white popcorn, red cranberries, shining tinsel, and net bags of red and white candy. Beneath it were piled unopened presents that had come by mail. Three pairs of stockings hung from the mantel stuffed with candy, dates, figs, nuts, and small toys, with a red and white candy cane and horn sticking out of the top of each stocking. Beneath the stockings were piled sleds, skates, drums, and other things dear to the hearts of boys. It was obvious that some mysterious and open-handed stranger had visited the house during the night; Robert looked for the track of his sleigh on the roof, but the new-fallen snow had covered it.”

To learn more about Solitude and the Preston family, or to read Professor Fletcher’s 1913 book, Three Problems in Virginia Fruit Growing: Packing, Marketing, Nursery and Orchard Inspection, visit Special Collections on the first floor of Newman Library or visit the Solitude site at http://spec.lib.vt.edu/archives/solitude/index.html The history of Solitude was discussed in an earlier blog https://scuablog.lib.vt.edu/2013/11/07/solitude-history/

To visit Solitude, please contact the Appalachian Studies Program director, Dr. Anita Puckett, at apuckett@vt.edu.

jojacks2 Local/Regional History, University History

Of Triple Deckers, Hell Row, and Late-Night Dumps

The New Student Experience, 1872-1902

As with any college town, August brings to Blacksburg a sudden shift from near-dormancy to feverish activity. Streets clog. Parking spaces disappear. And piles of modern lifes necessitiesfrom box fans to microwave ovens, from flat-screen TVs to mini-fridgesalign sidewalks as families and volunteers move new students into their appointed dorm rooms.

In the early years of Virginia Techthen known as Virginia Agricultural and Mechanical Collegestudent move-ins were much different. In 1872, the schools inaugural year, the new, non-local student arrived by train unaccompanied, alighting at the station near Christiansburg. The additional eight-mile journey by hired carriage to Blacksburg could take as long as three hours on roads that were sometimes nearly impassable. It wouldnt be until 1904 that a spur linethe Huckleberry Railroadwould allow for a much easier (though, at a scheduled 40 minutes, still-lethargic) trip from Christiansburg.

Upon arriving, the more sophisticated freshmen were probably unimpressed by their new surroundings. Blacksburg was barely a spot on the map at the time and couldnt provide much comfort and entertainment to young men far from home. The campus itself consisted of but five acres and a single building. Though it rose above the surrounding countryside, the three-story edifice was less than grand. Samuel Withers, who entered the school in early 1873, uncharitably wrote, The architect who planned it must have been a genius, for it was a classic in its ugliness.

Former home of The Preston & Olin Institute, the lone VAMC campus building included classrooms, offices, a chapel, and student lodging.
Former home of The Preston & Olin Institute, the lone VAMC campus building included classrooms, offices, a chapel, and student lodging.

The building contained only 24 lodging rooms, which made for cramped quarters. Even after packing three cadets to a room, fewer than half of the first years 172 students could be accommodated.

This photo of triple-deckered bunks was taken around 1902, another of the schools many growing-pain periods. Note how the bunks are tied together with rope.
This photo of triple-deckered bunks was taken around 1902, another of the schools frequent growing-pain periods. Note how the bunks are tied together with rope.

As sometimes still happens today, with enrollment exceeding available rooms, students had to find alternative, off-campus lodging. Many acquired room and board in private homes. Others took up residence in structures hastily built by local entrepreneurs who saw in student rentals a potential windfall. One such building, at the corner of Church and Roanoke streets, was officially named Lybrook Row. The building apparently gained a somewhat notorious reputation, however, and was more familiarly known to cadets as Buzzards Roost and Hell Row. Still, these first-year cadets of what was then an all-male military school could take some comfort in living off-campus, where they were less subject to the control of upperclassmen.

Though Lybrook Row had fallen into disrepair by the time this photo was taken, one can see that it was a very basic affair and likely deserved the appellation Hell Row.
Though Lybrook Row had fallen into disrepair by the time this photo was taken, one can see that it was a very basic affair and likely deserved the appellation Hell Row.

As there were initially no dining facilities on campus, students took meals with local families or at the nearby Lusters Hotel. Others formed their own private messes to provide for themselves. By mid-1873, however, the college had erected a mess hall; after the addition of more lodging in 1881, the school required all students to live and eat on campus.

The fare in the early mess halls could best be described as basic, and though the college claimed to make every effort to provide good materials, and to have them properly cooked and neatly served, the mess didnt have the reputation of todays Virginia Tech Dining Services for culinary excellence. In the 1881/82 catalog, administrators noted apologetically, [N]ecessarily, the living at seven and a half dollars per month must be plain. After one too many poorly prepared meals, one student expressed the frustration of many when he wrote in the 1900 Gray Jacket: I am so weary of sole-leather steak / Petrified doughnuts and vulcanized cake / Weary of paying for what I dont eat / chewing up rubber and calling it meat.

Mess hall interior, ca. 1900.
Mess hall interior, ca. 1900.

1888 saw the opening of Lane Hall (then known as Barracks No. 1), able to house 150 students. While the accommodations were still meager by todays standards, the new building contained such appreciated amenities as steam heating and, on the ground floor, hot and cold running water. Electric lighting was added in 1890. The furnishings, made by students in the college shops, included austere bedsteads, tables, chairs, and bookcases. Students provided their own mattresses, linens, water- and slop-buckets.

The spare furnishings of a barracks room included a straight-backed chair, a washstand, and a bed that appears somewhat less inviting than the floor.
The spare furnishings of a barracks room included a straight-backed chair, a washstand, and a bed that appears somewhat less inviting than the floor.
Then as now, students personalized their rooms with decorations. With no members of the opposite sex to be seen on campus, many male cadets adorned their walls with the female formor at least as much of the female form as was allowed by Victorian-era strictures.
Then as now, students personalized their rooms with decorations. With no members of the opposite sex to be seen on campus, many male cadets adorned their walls with the female formor at least as much of the female form as was allowed by Victorian-era strictures.

As with students immemorial, the VAMC cadets participated in many unauthorized activities and pranks. Though regulations forbade it, they drew water from the barracks radiators to fill the washtubs in their rooms for a hot bath on Saturday nights. And with the new availability of its primary ingredient, the water bomb soon became a campus mainstay, to the chagrin of pedestrians near the barracks.

The housing of all students under one roof brought with it unintended results. Hazingor the “application of extra-curricular controls over the behavior of the freshmen, as Douglas Kinnear called it in his 1972 history of Virginia Techbecame ritualized after the construction of Lane Hall and probably caused many a first-year cadet to wish hed never heard of Blacksburg.

In the middle of any given night, a new student was likely to be dumped from his bed, a favorite practical joke inflicted by upperclassmen. This scene, probably staged, was photographed in 1899.
In the middle of any given night, a new student was likely to be dumped from his bed, a favorite practical joke inflicted by upperclassmen. This scene, probably staged, was photographed in 1899.

Despite all of the inconveniences and discomforts endured by the new students, they came to love their school devotedly and, as alumni, to remember it fondly and support it proudly. It must have been exciting for that first generation of students to watch the continual improvements made in the campus and to see it grow into the university it had become by the mid-20th century. There can be no doubt, though, that when they visited, they could be heard to comment upon how easy their successors had things.

The University Archives contain a wealth of materials that offer glimpses into the early days of Virginia Tech. The photographs, campus maps, student scrapbooks, and published histories in our collections trace the schools evolution from a one-room school to the dynamic, modern research university that it is today.

vtspecblogger International Archive of Women in Architecture (IAWA), University History

Milka’s Legacy- The Passion for Studying Women in Architecture Lives On

We’ve written several posts in this blog about people and collections related to the International Archive of Women in Architecture (IAWA). It is one of our major collection areas, after all. But I’ve realized we haven’t actually covered how and why this massive collection came together here at Virginia Tech.

Photo: Milka Bliznakov in a car
Milka Bliznakov, IAWA founder

For this we can thank Milka Bliznakov (1927-2010), the founder of the IAWA. In 1974, Dr. Bliznakov joined the Virginia Tech faculty as a professor emerita of Architecture and Urban Studies. At this time she had already established herself as an international authority on Russian Constructivism and the Avant-garde, and was co-founder of the Institute of Modern Russian Culture, just three years after receiving her PhD in architectural history from Columbia University in 1971.

But getting to that point had not been easy. Born and raised in Bulgaria under Soviet control, she managed to escape in 1959 by bribing someone to smuggle her aboard a Mediterranean cruise boat. She arrived in France with no money or identification and only the clothes she was wearing, and managed to support herself by crocheting items to sell. In 1961 she arrived in the United States and began studying to become an architect.
After nearly a decade of teaching and studying architecture at Virginia Tech, Bliznakov began to turn her focus to women architects themselves. In the United States and many other countries around the world, architecture was still a very male-dominated profession, and very little of women’s contributions to the field had been documented. The idea to create an archive of women architects was inspired by some of Bliznakov’s female students, who had been asking her why, in their five years of architecture study, they had never been exposed to the work of women architects.
In 1985 Bliznakov founded the IAWA, and worked tirelessly over the next decade to research and collect the architectural drawings and papers of women around the world. Today the IAWA collection features the work of hundreds of women and continues to grow. You can browse our IAWA collections here. At her retirement in 1998, the annual Milka Bliznakov Prize was established in her honor, to recognize and promote research that uses the collection to advance knowledge of women’s contributions to architecture and related design fields. The records and projects of past award winners are available as an IAWA collection. Dr. Bliznakov passed away in 2010, but her passion for architecture and the work of women architects will live on for many years to come.

archivistkira Feature Items, University History

The Upper Quad of Days Past

If you’ve been to campus lately, you might notice some changes in the Upper Quad. If you haven’t visited us recently, you might be surprised next time you do. And if you’ve never been to Virginia Tech, the Upper Quad is the square shape of buildings here:[googlemaps https://www.google.com/maps/embed?pb=!1m14!1m12!1m3!1d1588.3712597470194!2d-80.41959080499333!3d37.23008683294229!2m3!1f0!2f0!3f0!3m2!1i1024!2i768!4f13.1!5e0!3m2!1sen!2sus!4v1403120933222&w=600&h=450]
The library is just across the way, so we get to see all the action unfold as buildings are razed and rebuilt. Two dorms (Brodie and Rasche Halls) are coming down to make room for bigger dorms to support the growing Corps of Cadets. You can read more about the changes on the university’s website.

This week, I decided to dig into the Historical Photograph Collection andshare some photographs of the Upper Quad back in the day. Several of the photographs have captions on the back, which are quoted below. In other cases, I’ve done my best to guess the time and location of the photographs.

Undated, apparently taken from the smokestack. Barracks No. 6 is at the center, with No. 5 just behind it. To the right of the No. 5 is the old YMCA building.
Undated (probably around 1930), apparently taken from the smokestack. Barracks No. 6 is at the center, with No. 5 just behind it. To the right of the No. 5 is the old YMCA building.
"Looking south from the tall smokestack of the new powerplant. Barracks No. 1 at left center. Clockwise around Barracks No. 1, starting at the top left: First Academic Building, Second Academic Building, Barracks No. 3 [part of the former Brodie Hall], Barracks No. 5, Barracks No. 6." You can also see part of the old library at the top center.
“Looking south from the tall smokestack of the new powerplant. Barracks No. 1 at left center. Clockwise around Barracks No. 1, starting at the top left: First Academic Building, Second Academic Building, Barracks No. 3 [part of the former Brodie Hall], Barracks No. 5, Barracks No. 6.” From Fall 1929. You can also see part of the old library at the top center.
Barracks No. 1 (now Lane Hall), Spring 1931, "Rat Numeral Painted on Tower." Apparently, a freshman cadet was being called out!
Barracks No. 1 (now Lane Hall), Spring 1931, “Rat Numeral Painted on Tower.” Apparently, a freshman cadet was being called out!
"Quadrangle Tennis Courts (looking from Barracks No. 4)," Spring 1934
Tennis? On the Quad? “Quadrangle Tennis Courts (looking from Barracks No. 4),” Spring 1934
Bonfire being built in the Upper Quad, 1940
“Building a bonfire on the Quadrangle, 1940”
Upper Quad, before 1950. Barracks No. 1 (now Lane Hall) on the left. Rasche Hall (old Barracks No. 2 plus additions) at the center.
Upper Quad, before 1950. Barracks No. 1 (now Lane Hall) on the left. Rasche Hall (old Barracks No. 2 plus additions) at the center.

Lane Hall will remaining standing amid all the changes. It’s currently on its way to being listed on theNational Registry of Historic Sites. Soon, it will have new neighbors, but the spirit of the old Quad will stick with us here on campus. And here in Special Collections, we’ll always have the photographs!

vtspecblogger Local/Regional History, University History

On the 70th Anniversary of D-Day

Jimmie W. Monteith, Jr.

Grave marker of Jimmie Monteith, died Normandy, 6 June 1944
Grave marker of Jimmie Monteith, died Normandy, 6 June 1944

. . . it would not be unusual, on this campus, to focus on the story of Jimmy W. Monteith Jr. He came to Virginia Tech in 1937 from Richmond to study Mechanical Engineering. In October 1941, before completing his studies, Monteith, like many of his contemporaries, joined the armed forces, and by 6 June 1944 had already seen combat in North Africa and Sicily, and was among the thousands of soldiers who had trained for the invasion of France. On that day, as a lieutenant in the 16th Regiment of the 1st Infantry Division, Monteith was among the first to land in Normandy on Omaha Beach. What happened next is summed up in the Citation that accompanied the Medal of Honor awarded to him for the action of that day:

For conspicuous gallantry and intrepidity above and beyond the call of duty on 6 June 1944, near Colleville-sur-Mer, France. 1st Lt. Monteith landed with the initial assault waves on the coast of France under heavy enemy fire. Without regard to his own personal safety he continually moved up and down the beach reorganizing men for further assault. He then led the assault over a narrow protective ledge and across the flat, exposed terrain to the comparative safety of a cliff. Retracing his steps across the field to the beach, he moved over to where 2 tanks were buttoned up and blind under violent enemy artillery and machinegun fire. Completely exposed to the intense fire, 1st Lt. Monteith led the tanks on foot through a minefield and into firing positions. Under his direction several enemy positions were destroyed. He then rejoined his company and under his leadership his men captured an advantageous position on the hill. Supervising the defense of his newly won position against repeated vicious counterattacks, he continued to ignore his own personal safety, repeatedly crossing the 200 or 300 yards of open terrain under heavy fire to strengthen links in his defensive chain. When the enemy succeeded in completely surrounding 1st Lt. Monteith and his unit and while leading the fight out of the situation, 1st Lt. Monteith was killed by enemy fire. The courage, gallantry, and intrepid leadership displayed by 1st Lt. Monteith is worthy of emulation.

Monteith is one of seven Virginia Tech alumni who have received this nation’s highest award for valor. But if you want to get beyond the descriptions of war, seek out the manuscript collection that bears his name, the Jimmie W. Monteith Collection, Ms1990-062, in Special Collections and read the letters he wrote home before dying in France, or the letters of condolence and sorrow sent to his mother afterwards.

Letter from Jimmy Monteith to his mother, 14 May 1944, first page

Letter from Jimmy Monteith to his mother, 14 May 1944, first page

In this letter, written home on 14 May 1944, just a little more than two weeks before the invasion, Monteith explains that he can’t always write as often as he might like: “Old Uncle Sam has a way of taking up a fellows time. However we are old soldiers now and we can stand a few hardships without too much grief.” He’s 25 years old at the time and he ends the letter by trying to set his mother’s mind at ease by understanding the difficulty of her situation and downplaying his own:

By the way Mother I know that these are hard times for you. The nerve strain must be afull. Please don’t pay too much attention to the papers and the radio, those people always try go get a scoop or something sensational (or something) and most of the time they don’t know too much what they are talking about. I am sure nerve strain is cracking up more people than this old war is. Please don’t let it happen to you. Love Jimmie

But as I mentioned earlier, it would not be surprising to talk about Monteith on this anniversary. But we would do well to remember the others.

On two occasions in January and September 1945, The Techgram, a publication of the university, presented photographs with brief captions of those alumni who had died in service during the war. Without claiming to be complete, The Techgram shows eight others who died on 6 June or shortly thereafter, the result of wounds received during the invasion:

Fourteen others died in France before the end of August 1944:

I’m guessing it doesn’t matter if you first learned about the Normandy invasion from contemporary newsreels, or from watching The Longest Day (1962) or Band of Brothers (2001) or from reading Clayton Knight’s book for kids, We Were There at the Normandy Invasion (1956), or any of the fine books of scholarly history written since. It might not matter whether your experience is burdened by the brutality of war or enraged by the politics of it, it is hard—in simple human terms—to look at these faces and read a simple sentence or two for each one and not get a bit choked up . . . on this 70th anniversary.

vtspecblogger University History

From Then to Now: An Exhibition in Two Parts about April 16th

8.5x11Flyers

The University Libraries Special Collections, in partnership with Student Centers and Activities and Ashley Maynors Self-Reliant Film, presents, From Then to Now: An Exhibition in Two Parts about April 16th. Part I of the exhibition will be held in the Newman Libraries Multipurpose room where a digital gallery of eight screens will display photos and short films. Three screens in the exhibit contain photos that were sent in after April 16th by community members, faculty and staff. Two screens display photos of the Hokies United memorials, which were created on the Drillfield post 4/16. The two films in the exhibit are by Ashley Maynor and comprise a home movie of the early Drillfield Memorial and footage of Virginia Tech from Maynors film in progress, The Story of the Stuff, which explores how we collectively mourn and memorialize in a time where tragedies are experienced first hand-once removed on the web and television. Part II of the exhibition will be held directly across the hallway from Part I, in the Special Collections room, and include a physical display of condolence items. These items were created by people from all over the world during the months following April 16th. The two parts show how the creative process helped many move towards healing and created a path out of the darkness of grief.

The exhibit was curated by Robin Scully Boucher, art programs director for Student Centers and Activities at Virginia Tech. Ashley Maynor is an award-winning filmmaker and producer. She was named the Sundance Institutes Sheila C. Johnson Creative Producing Fellow. Her most recent film as director is the documentary For Memories Sake. Tamara Kennelly, university archivist, coordinated the processing of the Virginia Tech April 16, 2007 Archives of the University Libraries

Both exhibits are on the first floor of Newman Library up the ramp from the study cafe. There will be an opening reception with food and refreshments on Friday, April 11 from 12 to 1. The exhibition is free and open to the public.

Poster from A Thousand Cranes Memorial project for the victims of Virginia tech
Poster from A Thousand Cranes Memorial project for the victims of Virginia Tech
vtspecblogger University History

The Checkered History of April Fool’s Day

For better or for worse, I don’t make a habit of looking at the Collegiate Times, at least not the issue of the day. This isn’t a judgement, just the reality. I do often look at it in the course of my job as an archivist at Special Collections, and just a few days ago I came across the 1986 April Fool’s Parody issue. The masthead proudly (or, maybe not so proudly) proclaimed Collegiate Slime and “Virginia Technical Institute’s Stupid Yellow Rag.” The location was “Bleaksburg, Fajenyah” and the index listed sections for Sex, Beastiality, Scandal, Lies, Demagogery, and Free Beer.
 
April Fool's Parody Issue, 1986

OK. College humor, what can you do? In one form or another, it’s probably as old as the oldest university. But I got curious, given that April 1st was coming up and decided to do a less-than-comprehensive review of the history of these issues. The 1977 issue served up The Cowlegiate Crime and Virginia Polywrecknic Institute and State Asylum.
 
1977 Parody Issue

The Crime appeared again the next year with the lead story, “Corps Demands Total Power” and again in 1982 with what was becoming a usual mix of effrontery, barely(?) post-adolescent male humor, and a penchant for superimposing an image of someone’s head on a body to which it did not belong. In 1988, the Slime was back, this time as “Virginia Wreck’s Fascist Rag,” still in Bleaksburg, now Virginny, and, again, in 1990. That year Bart Simpson and WelWhee Tried can be found among the bylines, and a few sample pages are numbered 2BE, NOT2BEE, and 4AUTNBEA. In 1991, however, something else happened.

2 April 1991
5 April 1991
5 April 1991

In the April 2nd issue of the Collegiate Times, editor Jim Roberts published a commentary in which he describes how the annual issue of the Slime had been produced and was ready for distribution. He writes:
 
Last April, I argued that the parody issue was good for the CT and the university, because it allowed the staff to take a satirical look at the issues which have surrounded us all year. Twelve months later, I have decided that is not within the scope of responsibilities of a news organization. . . . I decided last night to have the 14,000 issues destroyed.
 
Roberts described the adverse reactions to the previous issue of the “parody” as well as the tradition of producing the issue. Many thought the issue “insensitive,” that it had gone too far, and he concluded “the traditions of the CT far exceeds whatever fun we could [have] with six pages of jokes and unflattering pictures.” In the end, he writes that many may think he made a “poor decision,” but that, in the news business, “we’re often better off being criticized not for what we print, but for what we don’t print.”
 
The April 5th issue of the CT suggests just how right he was. As reported on page one, sometime in the early morning of the 3rd, a former CT employee distributed copies of the paper that had been set aside to be recycled. By 7:30 that morning, copies had been found and removed from Burruss, Newman Library, and Norris Hall.

According to the article, “Professors, women, minorities, SGA leaders and by and large almost every sector of the university contacted administrators about the issue.” Darrel Martin, assistant to President McComas commented on the line between parody and “the occasion where attitude and language are not part of the journalism profession or part of an educational environment.” In the same issue an editorial titled “Slime offensive” made the point more directly. The writer, coordinator of the Sexual Assault and Victim Education Support Services peer education program, wrote:
 
In reference to Adolph McMillan and Paul Hell’s articles (who, by the way, provided only pseudonyms), your writings outraged me. Your words were offensive and debilitating to women. . . . As long as attitudes such as Adolph’s and Paul’s are continued to go without a challenge . . . violence against women will continue to persist.
 
Also in the same April 5th issue, the CT editorial board member who would be editor-in-chief for 1991-1992 said that after consulting with CT staff several changes would be made for the next year’s parody issue. The name would be changed to avoid association with the past issues of the Slime, it would be printed in tabloid form to differentiate it from regular CT issues, and it would be completed a week before distribution.
 

1 April 1992
1 April 1992

 
Honestly, I’m not sure they quite got the point.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  Maybe by 1994?
 
1 April 1994
1 April 1994

 
1 April 2011
1 April 2011

 
 
 
In any case, by 2011, the CT simply let us know it’s April Fool’s Day in its masthead.
 
 
 
 
 
 
The VA. Wreck, Vol. 1. (1905)
The VA. Wreck, Vol. 1. (1905)

Oddly enough, this same week when I looked into the CT Parody issues, I came upon another bit of Virginia Tech (ok, Virginia Agricultural and Mechanical College) humor. In June 1905, the first (and only?) issue of The VA. Wreck, a take-off on the college’s newspaper, The Virginia Tech, was published. (Yes, the real newspaper was called The Virginia Tech.) Blacksburg is said to offer Hot Summers, Arctic Winters, Reasonable Board, Poor Food, and Hard Beds. The paper was published by “The Deanery” on a “Tri-Weekly” basis: “Comes out one week and tries to come out the next.”

Perhaps to set the stage for what will follow, the four-page paper comments:
 
Some seem to think this paper is a burlesque on the Virginia Tech, but such is not the case, and we decline the honor. If anything, the Virginia Tech is the burlesque; anyway it is a parody of some sort too deep for us to fathom.
 
And so much more. It felt a little odd to be spending so much time with documents from the ’70s, ’80s, and ’90s, let alone newspapers from just a couple of years ago. After all, I’m an archivist. Ahhh, the Va. Wreck. 1905. That’s better. We’re not just concerned with the past . . . but with the PAST! Right? At least 50 years ago! The older the better! Right? That’s the real joke. April Fool’s!

vtspecblogger About Special Collections and University Archives, Literary First Editions, Uncategorized, University History

Legacy of Dayton Kohler

Bookplate found on the inside front cover of many books from Kohler's collection.
Bookplate found on the inside front cover of many books from Kohler’s collection.

Drawing of Dayton Kohler by Karl Jacob Belser, 1931.
Drawing of Dayton Kohler by Karl Jacob Belser, 1931.

 
 
If you have an interest in modernist literature and have, on occasion, requested Special Collections’ copies of such worksespecially by American writers of fiction, though not exclusivelyyou may have discovered the bookplate shown above with a startling frequency. “From the Collection of Dayton Kohler . . . Virginia Polytechnic Institute . . . Carol M. Newman Library” appears time after time in books by many of the great writers of our time in the Rare Book collection. When I first started working here, just about five and a half years ago, as I came upon first editions of Faulkner, Hemingway, Cather, and Fitzgerald; then Virginia Woolf, D. H. Lawrence, and Joseph Conrad; Saul Bellow, Katherine Anne Porter, Eudora Welty, James Thurber, J.D. Salinger, Reynolds Price, William Styron, and more, I kept noticing the same bookplate. All first editions, several of them signed by the author. Who was Dayton Kohler?

Select first editions from the collection of Dayton Kohler

Kohler was Professor of English at Virginia Tech. He retired in 1970 after arriving at this institution as an Instructor in 1929. Born in 1906 and a graduate of Gettysburg College, he received his master’s degree from the University of Virginia the same year he came to Blacksburg. In 1931, Karl Belser, a colleague in the Department of Architectural Engineering drew a sketch of Kohler (shown above) that is housed, along with several other prints and drawings, in the Karl Jacob Belser Illustrations, 1931-1932, 1938, n.d., also at Special Collections. Kohler’s own collection of papers is also on hand. It includes an extensive correspondence with authors and other critics of the time, much of which relates to various literary essays and reviews.

Dayton Kohler died in 1972, but not before arranging for a collection of his booksincluding many 20th-century first editionsto become part of Special Collections. In fact, former director of Special Collections Glenn McMullen said in a June 1990 Roanoke Times and World News article that acquisition of Kohler’s book collection was “the first major acquisition” for the new department that had only formed in 1970. A May 21, 1971 memo to then-library director Gerald Rudolph reports that 1095 books were received from Professor Kohler some ten days earlier. The list that accompanies the memo shows only authors and quantity, with no detail regarding title and/or edition. But, in addition to the names referenced above, the list includes William Carlos Williams, John Dos Passos, Truman Capote, Henry James, Ezra Pound, James Joyce (a trip to the shelves indicates the 1930 edition of Ulysses, not the 1922 first edition, was Kohler’s), and a total of 27 Hemingways and 38 Faulkners(!), plus much, much more. What a tremendous legacy for the Library and its patrons to use and enjoy. I’m sure there are still more terrific editions in the collection that I haven’t yet seen. To close (almost) this post, I’ll leave you with one more that I did find:

Jacket of Fitzgerald's The Great Gatsby, 1925.
Jacket of Fitzgerald’s The Great Gatsby, 1925.

Inside front cover of The Great Gatsby (1925) with F. Scott Fitzgerald's inscription to Dayton Kohler, dated 1934.
Inside front cover of The Great Gatsby (1925) with F. Scott Fitzgerald’s inscription to Dayton Kohler, dated 1934.

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Lastly, if any alumni who may remember Professor Kohler read this post and wish to tell us more about him, please consider leaving a comment below. We’d be pleased to add them to this post. Thanks!

vtspecblogger Uncategorized, University History

Thanksgiving traditions at Virginia Tech

A menu for the traditional Sunday Thanksgiving dinner at Virginia Tech in 1924
A menu for the traditional Sunday Thanksgiving dinner at Virginia Tech in 1924

thanksgiving1924b

As Thanksgiving approaches, the Virginia Tech campus becomes practically deserted as students, faculty and staff leave town en masse to celebrate the holiday with family and friends. But it wasnt always this way. For more than half of Virginia Techs history, family, friends and alumni would descend upon Blacksburg and Roanoke the week of Thanksgiving for one of VTs greatest traditions- the annual football game in Roanoke against their biggest rival, the Virginia Military Institute (VMI).

The tradition began in 1894, when Virginia Tech (still known as the Virginia Agricultural and Mechanical College) played their first game against VMI at Staunton on Thanksgiving Day. The entire VAMC Corps of cadets made a trip to the event. VMI won that game by a score of 10 to 6, but VAMCs spirit was not broken. The 1895 yearbook, the Bugle, states, At half past two o’clock we boarded our train and returned, not feeling the least humiliated over our defeat, for we all vowed that the day of reckoning should come and that with a vengeance. The next year, on Thanksgiving Day, 1895, VAMC defeated VMI with a score of 6 to 4 at a game played in Lynchburg. Thus, both a rivalry and tradition were born.

The annual Thanksgiving football game moved to Roanoke in 1896, where it remained for the next 73 years. The event became known as The Military Classic of the South, and spawned many traditions and week-long festivities during the Thanksgiving holiday, including dances, dinners and parades through the streets of downtown Roanoke. The festivities usually ended with a Thanksgiving feast held on Sunday in the College Mess Hall for the Corp of Cadets and their guests.1895

The ties between Virginia Tech and Thanksgiving were further strengthened as the college sports teams started being referred to as the Fighting Gobblers in the early 1900s. It wasnt long before the association between a Gobbler and a turkey resulted in Virginia Tech adopting this Thanksgiving bird as its mascot. In 1913, local resident and VPI employee Floyd Meade trained a large turkey to perform various stunts before the crowd at football games, and the tradition of having a live turkey on the sidelines of games continued into the 1950s, before being replaced by a costumed mascot.

Another Virginia Tech tradition that started at the annual Thanksgiving game was the Skipper cannon, and this Thanksgiving 2013, marks its 50th anniversary. For many years, VMI had opened the game by firing their game cannon Little John on the field. The VMI cadets would taunt their rivals by chanting VPI, wheres your cannon! In 1963, two cadet seniors, Alton B. Harper Jr. and Homer Hadley Hickam, not wanting to be out-cannoned by VMI any longer, gathered funds and materials to create the largest game cannon in the world. The entire operation was done in secrecy, with the intention of giving it a surprise debut at the 1963 Thanksgiving game. The cannon was completed just in time, and as Hickam and Harper were secretly driving it back to Blacksburg from the foundry in Roanoke on November 22, 1963, they got word that President Kennedy had been shot. As tribute to the fallen president, the cannon was named Skipper after John F. Kennedys naval background, and its first firing was 50 round salute on the upper quad, a military tradition given for fallen leaders. One week later, the Skipper was fired at the 1963 Thanksgiving Day football game, to the astonishment of the VMI cadets, and the tradition of the Skipper cannon being fired at Virginia Tech football games was born.

Cadets parade the Skipper cannon through the streets of Roanoke, circa Thanksgiving 1964
Cadets parade the Skipper cannon through the streets of Roanoke, circa Thanksgiving 1964

As one tradition was beginning, another was ending. After World War II, Virginia Tech had grown from a small military college to a much larger, civilian-dominated university, and the football program grew to a league standing far beyond that of VMIs football team. Thus, the old football rivalry came to end, taking with it the Thanksgiving Day game tradition. The last Thanksgiving Day game in Roanoke between Virginia Tech and VMI was played in 1969.

While Thanksgiving might not be what it once was at Virginia Tech, some of the college traditions it started still live on, without which Virginia Techs identity would certainly not be the same. So as I dig into my turkey this Thanksgiving, Ill be thinking about how it helped to create our mascot, and the next time I hear the Skipper cannon fire at a home football game, I will thank the Thanksgiving game tradition for inspiring 50 years of that iconic feature of Virginia Tech football.

For more about the Thanksgiving Day game tradition, check out Pre-WWII Thanksgiving at VPI. For more about the story of the Skipper Cannon, check out The History of “Skipper”.

archivistkira Local/Regional History, University History

A Moment of “Solitude”

Last week, I was over at Solitude for a meeting, so I have the building on my mind. In the four and a half years since I came to Virginia Tech, it’s found little ways to pop up every once in a while through reference questions, outreach opportunities, and occasional visits. And every time, I learn something new.

Solitude, 1890s, then a private residence.
Solitude, 1890s, then a private residence.
Solitude, 1931
Solitude, 1931
Solitude, 1967
Solitude, 1967

You can see many more pictures of the building online, as well as interiors from when the building was a private residence. The original house, part of which is still part of the modern structure, was built in the early 19th century by the Preston family of Smithfield. The first known expansion was in 1851, when the house belonged to Robert Taylor Preston, son of Virginia Governor and Colonel James P. Preston. Robert, who lived in the house until his death, wrote a locally famous call to arms from the house in 1863.

Robert Taylor Preston "Call to Arms," 1863, pg. 1
Robert Taylor Preston “Call to Arms,” 1863, pg. 1
Robert Taylor Preston "Call to Arms," 1863, pg.
Robert Taylor Preston “Call to Arms,” 1863, pg. 2. His note finishes with “Come therefore men of Roanoke & join us of the mountain & drive back the invader of our homes & firesides or die in the attempt…Shall we march without our neighbours I trust not”

Following the Civil War, the property remained in Robert’s hand. However, in 1871, he sold it to the state to be the basis for the new land grant institution, Virginia Agricultural and Mechanical College, with the condition that he and his wife could remain in the house. Preston died in 1880 and his wife. Mary, in 1882.

After Mary’s death, Solitude was the campus infirmary. By the 1890s, the house was private residence for faculty and it continued to be so well into the 20th century. After World War II, when the need for married student housing was on the rise, there were trailers on the surrounding land. The house itself was used as a club for students. It later reverted to a private residence and then, in the 1970s, was used by various departments on campus. In the 1990s, the building was closed while funds were raised for renovations. And in 2011, Solitude was reopened and is currently used by the Appalachian Studies Program.

This, by the way, is the VERY short history of the house. We have many, many resources in Special Collections on everything from renovations to photographs, newspapers stories to documents created in the house, and the complex history of the Preston family. If you’re curious, you should pay us a visit, But the real treat is visiting Solitude. Renovations may have hidden much of the older building, but it is still there underneath, overlooking the Duck Pond. The oldest building on campus is still with us today, as a gentle reminder of Virginia Tech’s long history.