Getting Started

Students started trickling back on campus.  Most of them had some role in the starting of the college year.  Registration was being set up in the recreation area down stairs from the auditorium in Showalter Hall.  Orientation took place in the auditorium and seemed structured similar to my high school orientation of long ago.  There was some hazing and the required frosh beanie.  Each dorm had their own way of humiliating a freshman.  Sutton Hall, being the athletic dorm required all freshmen to buy or make an initiation paddle which was signed by each upper classmen.  The signature was verified with a swat on the rump.  Some guys really lay

 into it while others barely made contact.  

Freshman registration was assisted by a counselor who tried to find out what I had in mind as a major.  I proposed engineering, but found it wasn’t possible to complete that degree at Eastern.  Course work could be taken and transferred to a University for completion of the degree.  That wouldn’t work with my scholarship, so it was obvious I needed to think of another major.  The counselor suggested I take a general set of classes the first year that would be needed for graduation in any major.  This would give me a chance to look over the offerings and talk to other students.  I agreed to do that and also expressed an interest in Choir.  I had enjoyed singing in high school and wanted to sing at the college level.  My first quarter classes definitely had a physical education slant; Six and Eight Man Football Coaching, Football Coaching, and Touch Football for physical education. The tougher classes were Health Fundamentals and English Composition.  Room mate Tom Plant talked me into taking Introduction to Industrial Arts, which was in his major.  Choir rounded out my Fall Quarter schedule.   

Finally all the paperwork was filled and I secured each professor’s signature.  In addition most of them gave me information about the text they would be using and some had a course syllabus for me. The Choir director, Leo Collins, explained that there would be a voice test to determine the level I would be singing.  He gave me the appointment for the test to be conducted in the music building.  This was a little scary.  I was nervous about singing by myself, but when it was over I was pleased to be in the Choir singing in the baritone section.

Classes started with a flurry of students running to class or for text books before they ran to class.  It was hectic and I had trouble finding some of my classrooms.  Some classes met every day while others met only on designated days.  I had to pay close attention to my schedule and allow for meals and my work at the field house.  My days became crowded.

My field house job was cleaning the men’s locker room and it couldn’t be cleaned until the football players were finished each day.  That sometimes pushed my dinner hour later, particularly when it had been raining as the football team packed in excessive amounts of mud.  I felt like standing at the door and asking them to remove their shoes as they came in.  I was convinced I had the toughest beat on campus.

It was fun to see the athletes come in with practice uniforms smudged and sweaty.  As soon as they came off they hit the laundry basket and the trainer’s assistant whisked the basket full of dirties to the laundry room and began running the washing machines.  Soon it was hot and steamy in the confined laundry room and the trainer’s assistant looked miserable.  Maybe I didn’t have the worse job on campus.

When the rain came and the mud was tracked in, all you could do was scrape up as much mud as possible and get out the mop and bucket.  It took multiple mopping over the same area with fresh buckets of water each time.  I used Pine sol in the last mop water which gave a clean, fresh smell to the locker room.  I noticed with the muddy conditions the assistant in the laundry room had additional problems getting dirt out of clothing.

The field house janitor was friendly and gave me many helpful tips.  This made the job easier and faster which I appreciated.  My dinner wasn’t too late and I could get in study time before turning in.  Sometimes a lively discussion with the roommates would interrupt my studying, but we all had work to do, so were sensitive to each other’s study needs.

I liked my room mates.  The fourth member, George Kalb was a nice guy, but tended to hang around with his buddies from Idaho.  Tom and Les had known each other from their back home experiences, so I was the newcomer in the group but that didn’t last long.  Les liked to throw a mattress on the floor and wrestle either Tom or me, or both of us in a tag team match.  He could hold up his end quite well.

These periodic matches helped get rid of any tensions there might be over classes or work.  Once, before I left the dorm room to play a basketball game the guys piled on and gave me a real tension reduction session.  It was a wonder I had enough energy left to get out on the gym floor.  I don’t recall how well I played that night.

The dorm members had access to a washing machine in the basement to do personal washing.  Sheets and linens were sent out and clean bedding was issued every two weeks.  The basement machine was a coin operated unit that bothered some, namely Tom.  He felt we were being ripped off with no other options, so he created one.  Using his electrical knowledge he wired in a plug between the motor and the coin box.  This was under the machine where it wouldn’t be noticed.  When one of us came down to wash cloths, a short extension cord was brought along to plug into the concealed outlet Tom had installed, and the other end plugged into the wall outlet.  Bypassing the coin box saved us a bit of change over time, until it was discovered by the company furnishing the machine.

As I settled into the quarter it became clear that most of the course material was not that challenging and if time was spent in my books the results would be surprising.  My English Composition class challenged me the most, but at the end of the quarter I earned a B.  The other B I received was from the football coach, Abe Poffenroth.  All other grades were A’s and that put me on the Honor Student list.  I was so proud I had to let my family know, particularly about the English grade.

During fall quarter I talked to Tom and other students about their plans for choosing a major.  Tom was planning on an Industrial Arts Education degree.  Many students I talked with were also pursuing an educational degree. Eastern was a teachers college.  In early days it had been called a Normal school, designed specifically for training teachers.  Eastern had a lab school on campus where local students in grades 1-8 were taught and observed by college students.  This was a hard decision for me.  Teaching was a long way from engineering in my mind.  I wasn’t sure I’d like being cooped up in a class room all day with kids.

I knew I needed to come to a decision on my major soon, so I could plan my classes.  I thought about high school and in particular Mr. Hoffman.  I thought he had the best job in the school.  He had a wide variety of responsibilities, not all in the class room.  He had opportunity to work around the community and state.  I didn’t know if I was interested in all the agriculture classes I would need and I was sure they didn’t offer them at Eastern.

Next my thoughts focused on Mr. Metros who had taught Industrial Arts at Washington grade school.  I had enjoyed his classes and he seemed to enjoy teaching.  The classes were exciting and contained the creative opportunity I had loved as a kid on the ranch.  Things were beginning to clear in my head.  If I could pursue the creative work I loved, share it with students and enjoy the benefits of teaching that seemed to be the best of all worlds.  As a confirmation of this plan I spent time observing the IA instructors and talking to them about their experience as a teacher.  I came away convinced this was the way to go and have never doubted my decision.

I informed the counselor of my decision and he looked relieved.  He agreed with my assessment and told me this was the school to pursue that type of degree.  He laid out courses I would need, so I could start fitting them into the quarter schedules.  He also advised me to approach one of the Industrial Arts instructors to act as my advisor from that point on.  Once the decision had been made things started to fall in place.   I felt good about my plans. 

*Taken from "Which Road Should I Follow?, Volume 1, Growing up in the country", an autobiography by Edwin K. Hill.