Iowa State University Alumni Association| online edition | fall 2007

FALL 2007
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Romancing the grape

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LETTERS

Celebrating Iowa State’s sesquicentennial
Harriet and I are enjoying the Spring 2007 issue of VISIONS. In the sesquicentennial time-line, Harriet especially noted the freshman beanie in 1916, which was her father’s, Robert W. Breckenridge.

I do have one small correction regarding the Navy item for 1942. The Navy V-12 program began on 1 July, 1943, where Navy personnel were enrolled as regular college students in several engineering curricula. My brother, J. Malcolm Turkington, and I were in the original group reporting on that date. These Navy courses were taught on the basis of three terms per year while the rest of the college was still on the quarter basis. With help from the 1944 Bomb, I believe the program mentioned for 1942 began in June 1942 and was called the Navy Training School.

D. Barton Turkington**
’44 mechanical engineering, MS ’47
Harriet Breckenridge Turkington**
’46 household equipment, MS ’47
Norman, Oklahoma

I am very humbled and profoundly grateful to the Alumni Association for selecting me as one of the 150 VISIONaries at this institution during the 150 years of its service to the people of Iowa. I feel like a tiny intruder in a forest of giants, some of them personally known to me, and others by reputation. I had never considered myself to be worthy of this recognition.

John Pesek*
ISU emeritus professor of agronomy
Ames, Iowa

Much can be learned about the history of ISU by looking at the old university catalogs. For
example, the following “Prohibitory Laws of the College” appeared in the 1882 “Catalogue of Iowa Agricultural College in Ames”:

PROHIBITORY LAWS OF THE COLLEGE
1. Students may not leave the vicinity of the college buildings at any time without permission from the President. General permission to be absent on Saturday is granted by the President.
2. Loud talking, whistling, scuffling, gathering in halls and staircases, and boisterous and noisy conduct, are at all times forbidden.
3. During study hours, when not engaged in work or recitation, students may not leave their rooms except for unavoidable reasons.
4. At ten o’clock P.M., lights shall be extinguished, and from that time to the rising bell no student may be out of his room, except for serious reasons, nor shall he in any way disturb his neighbors.
5. Students shall not deface by marking, cutting, or otherwise any buildings, walls or furniture belonging to the College.
6. Students shall not abstract or remove any articles, whether clothing, food, furniture, tools, fruit, flowers, or any other property belonging to the College. Damage, destruction, or theft of property, when not more than one dollar in value, will be punished by fine double the amount, but when exceeding that sum the case will be handed over to the civil authorities.
7. Card playing and other games of chance, cooking, and the use of tobacco and intoxicating beverages, in any of the rooms of the College buildings, and smoking on the College Grounds are strictly forbidden.

It’s funny how some things change and others are simply revisited.

Lynn Seiler*
’69 industrial ed, MS ’88
Ames, Iowa

From time to time there have been letters referring to Henry Gilman in recent issues of VISIONS. Professor Gilman played a significant role in my successful graduation from Iowa State in 1952. An account of our acquaintance appears as an essay I wrote that is included in the Chemistry Department’s publication Chemistry at Iowa State University: Some Historical Accounts of the Early Years.

I thought you might be interested to learn of a rather remarkable coincidence involving three Iowa State alumni (and one non-ISU spouse) who live at the Asbury-Solomons Island Continuing Care Community
in Solomons, Md.

My wife, Dorothy (Heck), H.Ec. ’52, and I were eating in our community’s dining room one evening when we heard a new resident sitting at the next table say, “I was born in Mary Greeley Hospital in Ames, Iowa.” My wife immediately turned around and said, “I was born in Mary Greeley Hospital in Ames, Iowa, too.” (In a different year, as it happens.) The new resident couple were Mr. and Mrs. Charles Rice. The coincidences continued to unfold.

Charles Rice, M.E. ’42, grew up on Oakland Street across the street from Ruth and Henry Gilman’s home, and Chuck used to mow the Gilmans’ lawn. Chuck and his wife, Carol (Guard), were both children of faculty members in the School of Veterinary Medicine.

The further coincidences: Carol’s aunt, Mrs. Stephens,
was my wife’s tailoring class professor, and Carol’s uncle, John Wilkinson, was my Advanced Inorganic Chemistry professor.

Small world, indeed.

Ingo H. Petersen*
’52 chemical technology
Solomons, Maryland

Remembering Pammel Court: Love in a Tin Can
The name Pammel Court conjures up images of kings and queens sitting in sumptuous courts surrounded by loyal subjects. The king has conquered many dangerous foes and now proudly surveys his kingdom, eager for new worlds to conquer. However, this Pammel Court was composed of emergency housing set up in a field on the edge of Iowa State College (now University). The royal inhabitants were World War II veterans taking advantage of the GI Bill to further their education. Many enrolled, some with families, so it became necessary to provide housing off campus. Quonset huts and expandable trailers were the answer.

My husband, Robert, was one of those veterans, having served for three years in the Navy in the South Pacific. At the end of the war, he was eager to go back to college for a PhD, but finances would be a problem. He had been accepted at Iowa State College before the war and now the GI Bill of Rights made it possible to enroll. He would receive $500 for tuition and a living allowance of $90 per month.

We had been married a year but he had served seven of those months overseas before the war ended. When he was discharged, we were looking forward to starting our life together. But as a southern girl, the prospect of moving to such a cold climate was daunting.

We drove our 1932 Ford sedan from Ohio to Iowa in the fall of 1946. It was put in working order before the war and stored in his parents’ garage. Cars of that vintage had no heater but that seemed unimportant until the temperature dropped below freezing. With my thin southern blood, my loosely woven coat barely kept me warm. During the first snowstorm in Iowa, I shivered so violently, my teeth chattered. It was a mystery to me why the snow wasn’t melting in the sunshine as it did in South Carolina. To make matters worse, the housing units were “air conditioned” by the strong winds whistling through the windows. I was forced to buy warmer apparel on our limited budget. Clad in a hat, mittens, and muffler with my rabbit
fur coat, I was protected from winter blasts. Stadium boots worn over my shoes kept my feet warm.

We were grateful for a place to live while my husband attended college, no matter how cold and inconvenient the situation. The 150 housing units were set up in a former polo field on the north side of Pammel Drive, hence the name Pammel Court. They were arranged in long rows with little space between. Water, sewer, and electricity were provided by the college, and toilet and laundry facilities were set up in centrally located Quonset huts. It was quite an adventure to hike there in deep snow, especially when competing with others struggling toward the same objective. We kept a “chamber pot” in our unit for emergencies.

An even more daunting task in winter was hanging wet laundry outside on the clotheslines. Of course they froze so it was difficult to pry them off the line, but taking them inside was the real challenge. With frozen sleeves sticking straight out, they had to be maneuvered sideways to pass through the narrow door. They looked like scarecrows leaning against the wall. As they gradually thawed, they folded down into a heap on the floor. But the clean smell of laundry hung outside made it all worthwhile.

It was never really warm in our unit so we looked forward to going to class and to work on campus as it was much warmer. I worked in the printing department making blueprints on an Ozalid machine while my husband was in class. It may have been the ammonia fumes from the machine or the extreme winter temperatures that killed all the germs that accounted for my good health all winter.

Thanks to Pammel Court, our marriage – which began
and was preserved in that tin can village – lasted for 59 years.

Anne J. Basile
Sylvania, Ohio

The Iowa State Fair
As always, Megan and I were happy to see our issue of VISIONS arrive. [The magazine] is a fun read that I enjoy on a quiet evening at home and always makes me miss Ames. This latest issue was especially meaningful. Being originally from Indianola, so close to Des Moines, Megan’s family would spend many days each year at the State Fair. Her uncle owns and runs some of the food and drink stands and owns the Old Fashioned Soda Fountain. Her grandfather, Gilbert “Gib” McConnell, spends every day at the Fair and has for many years, “working” the crowd at the Old Fashioned Soda Fountain. When we opened to the Fair story in VISIONS, there was Grandpa Gib’s picture with his constant bright smile.

Tom Hughes**
’02 horticulture
Megan Hughes**
’02 horticulture
Fairfax, Iowa