Mount Hermon Female Seminary

Transcription

Oh! Y'know nothing makes me a happier camper than to be able to spend time with students. Students are absolutely my most favorite people on the planet. I still consider myself to sort of be a student. So, when I get an invitation, as I did, to come and talk--in this case to ICLC--you should know that my relationship with students goes back a long way. Did we work together on the title of the talk? "Everything you always wanted to know about the University but were afraid to ask" I thought, what am I going to talk about? I first accepted the invitation to come because it's just very important to spend time with students. It's also very important to tell the story of the University as I've come to know it. But the first reason that I leap at the chance to come and see you and spend time with you is first to pay my respects. I come to see you to pay my respects to you. And I do that with every student group that I talk to. I do that with faculty groups that I talk to. I do that with staff groups that I talk to. I always say that I come first and foremost --my reason for accepting the gracious invitation--is to pay my respects. So, why, you say. Why do you say that, it all sounds really good. The longer in the tooth I get, the longer I've been around, the more serious that idea becomes. Because, I've spent a fair amount of time now, understanding and learning about this place, that first educated me-- this place called the University of Rochester that educated me-- and then turned me loose in its behalf to teach, to help manage the place for a long long time. And so I've learned something about it. And in learning something about the University I have developed a sort of bronzed appreciation for our history and for the people who inhabit this place. Now I'll begin by telling you--and some of you have already heard it, and if you have I ask your indulgence--I've always said I came to the University back when the Earth's crust began to cool. Students are always saying "Dean Burgett, when did you come to the University?" and I say back when the Earth's crust began to cool. How many of you have heard me say that? Well, awhile back I was have lunch with some meridians, and one of the meridians said to me "Dean Burgett, when did you come to the University? And we already know the answer about the Earth's crust!" And I was like uh-oh. They wanted a year; they wanted to know when I really came. So I sort of hedged and they said, "we know about this Earth's crust business." So I said, look, I can be as vain as the next person, and they said "Don't worry, we won't tell." I said yeah right! Okay... They said, "It's okay. Just go ahead and spit it out and you'll get it over with and it'll be fine." So I thought, okay, I'll just banish my vanity and I said I came as a freshman violinist to the Eastman School of Music in 1964. 1964--47 years ago. Well you could see the Meridians doing the math. One of them looked at me and said "You're older than my father!" I said, yeah, that's right. And depending upon when your folks had you I could be your young grandfather. It's possible. But it was almost half a century --almost half a century since I came to the Eastman school of music. And it's funny because I don't feel like it have been 47 years. And part of that is because I get to hang around you. So one of the reasons I pay my respects is because you enliven me, you rejuvenate me. And of course students never age, do they? They are always between the ages of 18 and 22 or 23. Always. Right? So I forget how old I am until I look in the mirror and see my father looking back at me and then I go wow. But having been here for that long--the University is 161 years old and I'm going to talk a little bit about the University's history. I've been here not quite a third of its history, but enough that I can sort of say close to a third of the University's history. We were founded in 1850, 161 years ago. So I'm really interested in this joint that educated me and then turned me loose to go out into its world--in this case-- on its behalf. But I'll always remember when I arrived, because the story of when I arrived--and I'm going to tell you and some of you have heard it and some of you haven't--but before I get into the history of this place and tell you things you've always wanted to know but were afraid to ask, I'm going to tell you things that I think will probably resonate out of your own experience. This was a regional treasure who came from St. Louis, Missouri, right? I was a regional treasure, I'm a violinist. I was a good violinst, right? I mean, obviously, I got into the Eastman School of Music. I made my way to Rochester, and Rochester was a detour on the way to New York and the international capitals of the world where I metamorphose from a regional to a national treasure...and who knows, even an international treasure. So I get to Rochester, the first words out of my mouth when I get to the Eastman School are where are the practice rooms. So the orientation committee looked at me and chuckle and they point me to the practice annex where the Eastman practice rooms are. And I go into this building where the practice rooms are--it's just us freshmen who are there--and I go into one of the practice rooms. Now, if you never seen and Eastman practice room you should. It is our version of a state penitentiary. Because they're these little cells with big thick wooden doors and little windows in them. They're really not very appealing. And I went into one of the practice rooms, took my violin out, tuned it up, put the music on the stand and began to play. Not practice mind you, but play. The good stuff, the stuff that got me in the joint in the first place. And I left the practice room door open just a little bit because I wanted all within earshot to appreciate this regional treasure that had arrived. So that lasted until the sophomores, juniors, seniors, graduate students, and faculty arrived, at which point my whole notion of talent was radically redefined. And I began waiting for the second letter from the Admissions Office--y'know the one in the thin envelope--telling me that a terrible mistake had been made. That the Paul Burgett they intended to admit could play the violin and asking me to leave, preferably under the cover of darkness to spare us all the embarrassment. I'm sort of still waiting for the letter. It hasn't come yet but you never know. Now, fast forward a couple of years when my oldest sister decided to follow her big brother from St. Louis to the University of Rochester. She's smart, she's brilliant, she's an absolutely brilliant young woman. And so she came with visions of medical sugar plums dancing in her head. Sound familiar? She was not a musician; she came here to the college. I'm at Eastman thinking, or understanding that I am probably not going to be the world's next greatest violinist, but there's got to be a future for me someplace and I'm sure I'll figure it out. And she's coming with visions of medical sugar plums dancing in her head and I came over to the campus one evening to have dinner with her in Douglass. So, I met her in Douglass and she had this really long face and I said girl, what's the matter and she said I'm taking the hardest course I've ever taken in my life. Which startled me, I thought how could that be? I've never known you to have trouble with any academic work. She said I don't even know what the professor's talking about. I don't even understand the words. I said what in the world could it be? She said honors orgo. And I said I didn't even know what that meant. But she stayed, got a degree in biology, she went to medical school and she's a practicing physician. I stayed, even though we both were waiting for the second letter from the Admissions Office in the thin envelope. I stayed, earned a bachelors, masters, and Ph. D and then went about the business of living a professional life that has zipped by--47 years that have zipped by so fast that it made my head spin--just like your lives are zipping past so fast you can hardly believe it. Seniors? We got any seniors? I mean, wasn't it just yesterday we were sitting in my office talking about your first semester courses? Wasn't it just yesterday? Boom! Where did it go? One of my advisees. Where does it go? Who else is senior? Where has it gone, right? Y'know, Einstein's right, it only gets faster. It only speeds up. Next thing you know you're going to be saying well yeah, I came 47 years ago. And some day you might be president of the University of Rochester. See how people laugh? If you had told me back in those days, if you had said to me that someday you'll be a vice president and a dean and a professor I would have looked at you like you were crazy. If someone had said to me that one of these days you're going to be teaching the history of jazz--remember I'm a violinist-- I would have said that's even crazier because I'm not a Jazz musician am I? As I tell my class. So, if you had told me that I would have said you were crazy. How in the world could that happen? When my sister was given--she's in California--when she was given an award as one of the best pediatricians in all of California she would never have imagined that it could happen and yet it did. It happened to me, it happened to her, and then I've had the privilege watching generations of students come to the University of Rochester take on the challenge of, what I call, the fiery furnace--the fiery furnace is that great big white hot steam thing that just belches flames--sometimes it's organic chemistry, sometimes it's your political beliefs, sometimes it's visions of some kind of sugar plums dancing in your head that are getting metamorphosed into something else. And you come and you struggle and you not only survive, but you thrive. Manish Vigg. Manish Vigg graduated in 1991. Manish came to see me shortly after I came to the river campus from Eastman--I had been the dean of students at Eastman--I came to the river campus as vice president of the University and dean of students in 1987. And Manish came to see me in 1989 and said "Hey Dean Burgett! Don't you ever get tired of doing administration?" And I said "yeah, no, yeah--sort of, I guess." He said "Don't you miss teaching?" I said, "Hm? Yeah I do," because I wasn't teaching then. He said "Isn't your subject the music of Black Americans?" I said yeah because that is what I did my doctoral work in. He said, "well my fraternity, Sigma Nu, doesn't know anything about the music of Black Americans. So here's the deal, if you teach us a course on the music of Black Americans we'll do the administration for you--we'll get the students registered, we'll get the class, we'll TA the course and we'll do all the registrar kinds of stuff for you if you'll just teach us." So I said "Hm, that sounds interesting. OK." Now here he was, the commander-- the president of Sigma Nu is called commander-- visions of medical sugar plums dancing in his head. And so we struck a deal, it was right about this time of the year, right before winter break Monish came to see me, "Dean Burgett we got it all set up. We got the classroom and everything is all set up." and I got cold feet. I said "I don't think I can do it. I've got too many responsibilities as a senior officer of the University, blah, blah, blah." and Monish looked at me and said "Dean Burgett you can't do that. We had a deal." He read me like a book. He knew I was scared. Manish Vigg, who was one of these people who was born forty--we called him the old man. We still call him the old man--so he leaned over to me and he said "Don't worry, it's going to be ok." and I said "Alright." So we went on winter break, came back, went to the first class of my course "The Music of Black Americans" I went to the class and everything was just as he said it would be, students were all there and everything worked out the way it did. I gave my first lecture--it was once a week. Two hours and forty minutes-- and my heart soared. It was absolutely fantastic, absolutely brilliant. It was wonderful. I couldn't have been happier in my life. And it was a student who made it possible. And at the end of class the students filed out of the room and Manish sidled up next to me and he said "See? I told you it would be okay." And I teach that course to this day. Meliora weekend it happened, Monish came to see me. He was here. Manish with his wife, his two children, and he's a physician and surgeon and medical director of a medical center in Mount Holyoke Massachusetts. I can regale you with countless stories of those who have come and met the challenge, just as you are doing. And then go out and make the world better. So when I say I come to pay my respects to you, I'm really serious. When I say I come to pay my respects it's because of how important you are, as the current generation, in terms of the future of, not just this institution, but the future of the nation and the future of the world. And Meliora weekend is a seminal moment for me because I see it happen again and again and again and it is going to happen for you. You'll be coming back for Meliora weekend and you are going to be telling me stuff that you are doing that didn't exist five years ago. That's what is going to happen because that is what Rochester people do. So when I say I come to pay my respects I'm quite serious about it. It's because it is you who will succeed me. You will be standing right here. Now I'm speaking figuratively, okay? You're going to be standing right here and you are going to be the president and CEO--Oh! Let me put it this way-- You're going to be the president of the University of Rochester, I already gave it away once, but, y'know, it turns over. And you are going to be telling the next generation about this guy named Dean Burgett who had been here since the earth's crust was cooling and he told me that I was going to be the president of the University of Rochester and I chuckled... but it happened. So, as I have watched this over these years particularly, I've gotten interested in where we came from. So what was it all about? How did all of this happen? And I've made myself a student of the University's history. I've had a lot of help, people like Ilene Fey, in the back there. Ilene, who works in rare books and special collections, who is one of my guardian angels over there. Who helps make available to me all kinds of materials. And I find the story of our University to be fascinating. And I thought that tonight I would tell you some of the stories associated with that. And then I'm going to be sure to leave time so that you can ask me those things you've always wanted to know but were afraid to ask. Because, as I've indicated, having been around this for as long as I have I know stuff. I know where skeletons are buried. I know about the campus myths and so as you have questions about this incredibly complex place that we call the University of Rochester I want to be sure to leave time so that I can try to answer questions that you might have. So where did we come from? Well, any good story begins with once upon a time. Once upon a time in the hamlet of Hamilton, New York --Hamilton, New York which is east and south of Rochester--There was an institution founded in the 1820s called the Hamilton literary and theological institute. It was a Baptist institution and Hamilton was, as it grew from the 1820s into the 1840s began to develop a pretty good reputation and it had a pretty good faculty. So there was some concern that the future for Hamilton-- which in 1848 changed its name to Madison University--there was some concern that there was not going to be a future in Hamilton, New York. Now, remember in the United States in the middle of the nineteenth century the industrial revolution was getting under way--the United States was moving from its rural and agrarian past into its urban and industrialized future. So, there were some people in Hamilton, New York, at what was now, Madison University who began casting their glance around for where Madison University ought to relocate as it thought about its future. And there was a guy by the name of John Wilder for whom Wilder, our dormitory is named. So John Wilder was a member of the board of trustees of Madison University and he was very concerned about whether Hamilton, New York was the place for the University to realize its future. And this is what he had to say, he said, we need to move. We need to move Madison University to Rochester because Rochester was known as the flour city--F-L-O-U-R--because we ground wheat here. We were known for that. We are actually F-L-O-U-R but we're also F-L-O-W-E-R. We became that later. F-L-O-U-R for the grinding of wheat and as an agricultural location. And does anybody know how we became F-L-O-W-E-R, flower as in plant? Because--Yes, Ilene--"The nurseries." That's correct. The Elwinger Berry nursery was one of the largest flower and plant nurseries in the United States. Kind of hard to believe given our location, right? And I can tell you where that area was. Highland park was part of the Elwinger Berry landscape where all of our lilac bushes for example in highland park, that was all part of the Elwinger Berry business. You know where the president's house is on Mt. Hope avenue? That's called the Berry house. And where the provost lives is--both of those houses were owned by the Berry family and the Elwinger family lived on the other side of the street-- so we became the flower city, as in plants and bushes and trees. Yes, Eileen? "Some of the trees on the Berry estate are world famous among horticulturalists". Thank you! That is exactly right. Some of the trees from the Elwinger Berry industry are still there and they're absolutely fabulous. And, as Eileen points out, they are world famous. So, John Wilder, who we see here, decided we really needed to move Madison University and this is what he had to say, "We are advocating Madison's removal on the grounds of its location, its dilapidated buildings, the badness of the roads leading to it, the smallness of its own library, its distant from other large libraries, the want of patronage--of financial support--the want of patronage from our own denomination, who are best off--Baptists, we started out as a Baptist institution--no patronage from other denominations, its proximity to another literary institution--Hamilton College in Clinton, New York-- the incompetence of its local board--I told our board of trustees that and they sort of chuckled on the theory that they've gotten better--and--interestingly-- the ability of its faculty, some of whom we fear we cannot retain unless something is done immediately." So, the faculty, some of the faculty at Madison were very, very unhappy because of the isolation they were experiencing in Hamilton, New York. Acrimonious quarrelling broke out--a terrible fight broke out-- because there were those who said "Madison should stay right where it is, in Hamilton, NY" and there were people like John Wilder who said "Madison should move to Rochester, NY" And there was a newspaper in Hamilton--a journalist in one of the Hamilton newspapers wrote as follows: "If the friends of removal wish to convert the territory of Madison University into the wild character which Gale College has attained, let them remove it to Rochester, Utica, or Syracuse and they will doubtless have a wilder set of young men under their care then they now have." So that's very very interesting. Well this notion about student behavior was really kind of interesting because an early graduate of, what became the University of Rochester, here in Rochester, NY a guy by the name of John Howard, who graduated in 1857--so we hadn't been around very long. We were founded in 1850 don't forget--so this is what John Howard had to say about this concern about student life. He said "By their senior year certain youths had grown lax in their personal conduct, self indulgent, addicted to cards--playing cards--tobacco--and I love the last one-- conviviality of venus and spirituous excitement." Now what does that mean? Venus and spirituous excitement? "They like wine and--" BINGO! D-Day! Right? We may think--the current generation may think that D-Day is a relatively new phenomenon. Not on your life. Those students--students back in the nineteenth century-- they had their D-Day...and then some. I love how it's stated though. "The conviviality of venus and spirituous excitement." I wrote after that, plenty of fermented vegetation of wine and whiskey and beer. So, it's sort of the equivalent of our Dandelion Day. Well, they decided to move. The New York State supreme court ruled --it made it through the court--that those who wanted to remain in Hamilton, NY sued what were called the removalists. They sued them and made it all the way to the New York State supreme court. The New York State supreme court ruled that Madison University could remain in Hamilton, NY. But people like John Wilder and couple of other folks I'm going to show you decided they were going to move. They were going to come to Rochester. There are a couple of principles, that as I look back to those pioneers like John Wilder, as I look back at those pioneers there are some principles that I think are really important. I invite you to consider these principles because I think these principles are one that continue to inform who it is we are. They informed our founders and they inform who we are today. And these are the principles: the University of Rochester is shaped by a rigorous and indefeasible pursuit of quality of the highest order. The rigorous and indefeasible pursuit of quality of the highest order. That's what we do here. We work hard to be as good as we can be. So, the indefeasible and rigorous pursuit of quality of the highest order, number one, and number two: the identification and cultivation of inspired and effective leadership. Critically important. The pursuit of quality of the highest order and the identification and cultivation of effective and inspired leadership, which is what you are about. So, those qualities that were truly lived in 1850 are truly lived today I think. Now, any good institution is going to espouse those ideas, those principles, those qualities, they're going to espouse them. But how it gets played out in the institutions history will vary from institution to institution. And that's true for use. So, indefeasible and rigorous pursuit of quality of the highest order, how that has played itself out in our 161 year history. And our identification and cultivation of inspired and effective leadership, how that has been played out is unique to Rochester. And that is some of what I want to share with you tonight. So they decided to move. So John Wilder and others thought that Madison University in Hamilton, NY wasn't going to have a future. Well that proved to be wrong because in 1898 Madison University changed its name to Colgate. So we were born out of the rib of Colgate University. So, we're a sibling of Colgate University. But we came here anyway and this is where we moved. We moved into the United States Hotel. Now the United States Hotel is a building that has served a variety of functions. it was a hotel, obviously, it was a seminary for women, it was a train depot, and we moved into it--we rented it for $800 a year--and we moved into it. And in November, the first week in November in 1850 the bell was rung by Azahel Kendrick, who I'll show you in a moment and classes began in the first week in November in 1850. This building still stands and here it is. This building, the United States Hotel, is on West Main St. It was built in 1826 and its date is right there. It is right next to the Open Door Mission so it is on West Main St. And I maintain that our forbearers, even know they couldn't possibly have known how things would look in the 20th century--much less the 21st century--must have understood something about tradition. Because within a stone's throw of, what was the United States Hotel, became our first home is a favorite of all of ours. Right? So, Nick Tahou's is just up the street from the United States Hotel. Well, here we have an image of somebody very important by the name of Azahel Kendrick. Azahel Kendrick was a professor of Greek. And Azahel Kendrick came from Madison University to Rochester and he taught Greek and he was the one who rang the bell to start the classes on our first day. But it is Azahel Kendrick--and we have Kendrick Road and Kendrick dorm-- that's who it is named for, this guy. It is to him that we credit our motto. And what is our motto? Meliora. What does Meliora mean? Ever better. That's right. Now, I've always told a story about how Professor Kendrick came up with this. Because this is the story as it's been told, as it's been handed down, and how it appears in the literature. Being a professor of Greek he found the term meliora in a quotation of the Roman poet Ovid, in the seventh book of his metamorphosis. And the quotation that I had always heard was "video meliora proboque" and "video meliora proboque" means--it translates to-- "I see and understand better things". That makes some sense right? So, I've been telling this story forever, that's what I've always said. Last year--last April--I gave a talk to students in Hoyt auditorium, I don't know if any of you were there, and I told the meliora story. Do any of you remember Laura Zimmerman? She just graduated. You know Laura? Ok! Do you ever have contact with her? Sometimes. Because she knows this happened and you can tell her the rest of the story. Because she doesn't know the rest of the story. So, Laura was in the audience when I did this talk in Hoyt. So the next day I get an email from her and she says "Y'know Dean Burgett, I liked your talk I thought it was really interesting. But I'm curious about the origin of our motto, meliora." She said " I know some Latin, I've studied some Latin." So I went and looked it up. You quoted from the metamorphosis of the Roman Poet Ovid "video meliora proboque". You only cited half of the quote. And I looked at that email and I thought uh-oh. Because I cited what I had found in a secondary source but the sister had gone to the primary source. And so the first part of the quotation is "video meliora proboque" which is "I see and understand better things" but there is a second half and the second half is "and I still make bad choices". She said to me "It's not very inspiring." I said yeah that's right, it's not very inspiring. Uh-oh, maybe we need to do some more homework in it. So I started getting folks involved in Ilene's area and we found another use of the word meliora in the Roman poet Virgil in the fifth book of his twelve volume "The Aneid" which is the story of the Trojan War and there it is sort of like "I aspire to better things" and it fits, it doesn't have a tag line on the end of it. So we thought, well maybe that's right. Then we decided let's put this in the hands of Latin scholars and see what they come up with. You know professor Hahn in the English department? Well Professor Hahn's a classicist. So we sent it off to him and he consulted with a colleague of his at the University of Toronto who's a Latinist. This is really what he does. So professor Hahn and this guy at Toronto they came back with yet a third explanation for it. They don't think that the Ovid works--obviously we don't either-- they don't think that the Virgil works--it could--And I actually found three high schools in different parts of the world somewhere in Asia, somewhere in the UK, and a third place that I don't remember now that actually have the Virgil quote which includes meliora. But professor Hahn and his colleague in Toronto came up with a third explanation which is that meliora--the word meliora--is the imperative form of the latin meliorare. And meliorare means to aspire to better things. But the imperative is "get better" or "ever better". So Professor Hahn says "I think that's the answer." Well we still haven't figured it out yet. We still don't know. Yes? "Well that makes sense because of the old finger seal" There is a finger, that is exactly right. Very good, that's right. We have had two seals and the first seal actually has a finger pointing. Whether that is the answer to it or not I don't know. But I will add that into the calculation here and see if we try to come up with an answer to it. But I wrote to Laura and I said "Girlfriend, you really opened a can of worms but we're having a great time with all of this as we try to figure it out." So I tell all of you so that as you are looking for something to occupy your leisure time you might want to participate in this little debate. So we're not entirely sure exactly what it is. So, here's what I decided to do. I thought, I'll go look at the papers of Professor Kendrick, maybe there is something in the papers that will give me the answer to this. So with Ilene's help I went into rare books and got all of his papers, all of Professor Kendrick's papers, which really was his correspondence, all of his correspondence. and I went through every letter. This is the 1850s but there was an interesting problem that I hadn't counted on. Because I don't work with sources from the 19th century, I work with sources from the late 20th century. And the interesting problem was, I had in Professor Kendrick's papers, only one half of the conversation. Only what people wrote to him, not what he wrote to them. There was no Xerox, there was no carbon paper. So I don't know what he said. So I am still on the prowl to try to understand. But for now as a place holder we're crediting Professor Kendrick with our motto. And you now know part of the story. We went without a president for the first three years of our existence and Professor Kendrick performed the executive functions of a president like ringing the bell--which by the way we still have-- That initial bell we still have, it is in the possession of the president. And Martin Brewer Anderson came and Professor Anderson was--we were a Baptist institution--so he was a biblical scholar, he was a moral philosopher and he wasn't sure that he wanted he wanted to be president. He was the editor of a Baptist periodical. And he wasn't sure that he wanted to be the president of the University of Rochester, interestingly enough, because he wasn't certain that he was up to the task in terms of quality with the faculty. He worried some that the faculty exceeded his own intellectual prowess. But he did come and he served for an astonishing 35 years. We have had ten presidents, I have known five and worked for four. And two of our presidents--our first and our third--served for 35 years. Unheard of today. The modern American presidency is somewhere on the order of seven, eight, maybe ten years. At Rochester it's about ten year presidencies. So, he served for 35 years and he was a patriarch, obviously. We have lots of photographs of Martin Brewer Anderson but I chose this one because I think it sort of captures the sense of the man. By the way we didn't have an administration back in those days, there wasn't administration, there wasn't deans and all that. All that stuff came much later. So it was the president who did stuff, for example there were lots of traditions back in those days, student traditions, for example, there was the annual freshman/sophomore fight. Yeah! Where the sophomores would beat up the freshmen. It is really crazy. And they would get into all kinds of fisticuffs and it was really pretty crazy. And so president Anderson would leave his office and go out and break up the fights. It was president Anderson who did much of the administration in those days, in concert with the faculty. But this is what he had to say, he was devoted to the idea of the liberal arts, we may think that the liberal arts is a relatively new notion to us today--not at all. Remember, we were a Baptist institution but it was not about necessarily focusing only on the religious aspect. Although many of our early graduates became and were "men of the cloth" and for our first fifty years we were only men in the University. But the liberal arts education was what president Anderson espoused and he says "The object of education was not to produce a man trained at anything in particular, the object was to produce a man full-rounded and ready to take on whatever life brought next." Interestingly, president Anderson was uncompromisingly opposed to dormitories. Which I find ironic, right? This what he said "Herding students in one building afforded every facility for the propagation of evil principles and habits. They are nests of vice and iniquity." Hey, y'know, I lived in one for four years, and I was the dean of students for a lot of years. I sort of understand where he was coming from, as do we all in this room. But I find it an exquisite irony of course that we have a residence hall named for Martin Brewer Anderson. Anderson Hall is named for our first president. He was also opposed to organized sport, he did not value sport. Though he allowed baseball. Baseball came to us in 1879, he was still president. But he was opposed to organized sport and particularly the physical violence and hazing that was rampant in most colleges of the time. Y'know, we talk about hazing today and the things we do to eliminate hazing. Hazing back in those days was like you would not believe. It was very serious and there was a lot of violence on college campuses. But he saw organized sport and the physical violence associated with it as, and I am quoting him now, "an outcome of popular muscular Christianity and the glorification of physical strength amongst the young." Muscular Christianity, what an interesting way to describe it. So, baseball--was the national pastime--so baseball he permitted. Football had to await the arrival of our second president, David Jayne Hill, who I'll get to in a moment. David Jayne Hill who was named president in 1888 and assumed his responsibilities in 1889 and football came that year. Football came in 1889, we formed an athletics association in that year which included Syracuse, Cornell, Union, among other schools. And we played our first football game in that year, 1889, and that first football game was against Cornell. Score, Cornell: 106, Rochester: 0! However, we played ten games that first season and we were 500 for the season, not bad. And we played Syracuse. Syracuse, which was our second match, so after the humiliation which was our first we played Syracuse and the score was Rochester: 36, Syracuse: 6. So, we sort of redeemed ourselves. Now, while I am thinking about it, I am often asked the question so we played Cornell, why didn't we join the Ivy league. We heard that we had the opportunity to join the Ivy league and we didn't join the Ivy league-- the Ivy league was established in 1948--so there was no Ivy league back in those days. But, while I am thinking about it, it is one of the questions I get from people. Is it really true, Dean Burgett, that we were offered the opportunity to join the Ivy league and didn't do it? The answer in a word is...no! Of course not. If we had been invited by those who are the Ivy league to become a part of the Ivy league what do you think we would have said? We would have said yes! So, when you get asked that question-- it's one of those campus myths--so if you get asked that question about the Ivy league and Rochester's participation in the Ivy league, that never happened. Wouldn't you be terrified to go into a classroom with somebody who looked like that? Wouldn't that sort of stop you dead in your tracks? Well, this is Chester Dewey. For whom Dewey hall is named--the building that we're in right now is named for Chester Dewey-- he did not come from Madison University but Chester Dewey was a very prominent, nationally known scientist. He was the headmaster or principal of a high school here, and when the University of Rochester came-- when the removalists from Madison came and established the University of Rochester, Chester Dewey was a part of that and he became a member of our faculty teaching in the natural sciences. He was very very important and considered in some sense, along with Azahel Kendrick, to be sort of the truly the grand elder statesmen of our faculty. He clearly belongs amongst--and that's why we have a building named for him-- he was a local high school teacher, he was a Congregationalist preacher, and looks very very fearsome. He must have had a soft spot in his heart for young people because he fathered fifteen children. I don't know if that was with one wife or not but there were fifteen children that he sired. Here's an image of the early faculty, and the early faculty include president Anderson, this is Azahel Kendrick, this is William Morey, this is professor Lattimore, this is Joseph Gilmore from English, this is --I can't remember the name of this particular fellow. But, a very early faculty. And I love this photo, this is a photo from the 1880s. This is chemistry, this is orgo, with professor Lattimore. Here's professor Lattimore and you notice they ain't smiling! Professor Lattimore, for whom Lattimore hall is named, he was very important not only to the University of Rochester but to the Eastman/Kodak company because he was a consultant to George Eastman and the Eastman/Kodak enterprise. Ah, now we get to this man, one of my favorites. I love this image. This is a picture of a man named with a wonderful 19th century name of Azariah Booty. Now Azariah Booty was a local business man, you can see, there it is. For those of you who know any of our songs one of the Universities songs is "The Dandelion Yellow" and, Galen, what does "The Dandelion Yellow" talk about? "It talks about Azariah," And his cows, that's right! Which grazed in a field of dandelions. The Jackets know about this song and they have a wonderful version of it which they do. If you haven't seen it, when the Yellow Jackets perform The Dandelion Yellow it's about Azariah Booty and his cows. So he was a business man who was also a University of Rochester trustee. Now, what's important here that most people don't know--when did women come to the University? 1900! But there were efforts before that. In 1852 Azariah Booty together with Martin Brewer Anderson and Azahel Kendrick and Louis Henry Morgan --do you know who Louis Henry Morgan was? I got any anthropology majors here? Louis Henry Morgan was and is considered the father of American anthropology. And he lived here, he was a lawyer, he was not a member of our faculty but he was sort of embraced as a member of the faculty because he was an intellectual of considerable repute and his ethnographical studies of Native Americans and other ethnic groups sort of laid the ground work for the discipline that we know today as modern anthropology. Lived here in Rochester, was devoted to the idea of education of women along with others. Azariah Booty donated eight acres of land over by the Memorial Art Gallery. Y'all know where the Memorial Art Gallery is? That area, the Memorial Art Gallery, is 25 acres. He donated eight acres of that land for the creation of something that was to be called Barleywood Female University. The first attempt to create higher education for women here in Rochester was Barleywood Female University in 1852 and Louis Henry Morgan, Azahel Kendrick, Chester Dewey--particularly those three--and Azariah Booty, those four were instrumental in trying to get it started. I have actually seen, thanks to Ilene again, I have actually looked at the minutes of the board of trustees for Barleywood Female University or which Azariah Booty was the chairman of the board. And there were only three meetings, it is funny, it's a beautiful book right Ilene? It's a beautiful leather bound book and it is this thick and you open it and see the meetings all in hand, written in pen. And you see the minutes of the meeting of the board of trustees of Barleywood Female University and after the third meeting it abruptly stops, it abruptly ends, and we don't know what happened except we think it was a failure to raise sufficient funds for it to move forward. But Azariah booty donated those eight acres and when Barleywood failed he then gave those eight acres to the University now to remind you this is 1852, we're still at the United States Hotel. So he gives those acres to the University and then through a series of sale of individual parcels the additional 17 acres come into possession of the University of Rochester to create--Oh! This was Ms. Seward's Female Seminary was to become Barleywood Female University and this is located, for those of you who are familiar with downtown, y'know Alexander and East Avenue? That's where that is. That is the corner of Alexander and East Avenue. So, Ms. Seward's Female University was to become Barleywood Female University. So it already existed but it was going to be transformed into an institution of higher education. At any rate, this land that was owned by Azariah Booty, this is the land. And it was known as Pitkin's woods back then and it became our Prince street campus and we moved to the Prince street campus. I love this image--we moved to the Prince street campus--by the way you may not be familiar with these buildings in fact this one doesn't exist anymore, over here, this doesn't exist anymore. This original building you see here built in 1861 still stands and you will recognize it because it is a part of your current heritage. This statue, what is this statue? You recognize it? Who is it? President Anderson. That is the statue of Martin Brewer Anderson that sits out in the res quad. It was originally created in 1905. This picture has to be after 1905 because that is when that statue went up. So this is what we call the Prince street campus. It was beautiful and the Memorial Art Gallery is sort of here, right about here. Now. And here is Anderson hall which was the first building. In 1861 we moved out of the United States Hotel into Anderson hall and all activity took place. This was our very first building. "Is that the one that is still standing as the United Way now?" It is and I'll show you and image of that in just a second. And here's the statue that is familiar to all of us. Here are class rooms in Anderson hall--the Latin room--and this is how the building looks today and it is the home--this is directly behind the Memorial Art Gallery--and it is the home of Rochester's United Way. I was feeling sentimental recently and decided I want to go into our first home because I've been doing all this reading in rare books and special collections. So, I go into the building and the CEO of the United Way, which you might become, at any rate, Peter Carpido is the CEO of the United Way so I went in--and he's a friend of mine--and I said Peter I'm feeling nostalgic I want to tour the building. So, Peter took me on a tour of the building and I'm sort of Oh! this is wonderful, blah, blah. Finally he looks at me and says "You want to buy this building? Do you? This was a building built in 1861 can you imagine what the operations and maintenance on this building is?" I said that's okay, I'll admire it from a distance. So it still stands. This is was the second building to go up and what is really interesting here with this second building, this is called Sibley hall. Hiram Sibley who was the founder of Western Union, a telegraph company, he was here. Western Union was founded here. And so, he gave us the money in 1877. We built this building called Sibley Hall and it was our first library. So the University's first real library-- there had been a small library in Anderson Hall--but this was our first real library. And the first real library occupied the first floor and then there was a spectacular mineralogical and zoological specimen museum on the second floor--geological museum on the second floor--that was the domain of Professor Fairchild. We've got a dormitory named for Herman LeRoy Fairchild. So this was built in 1877, our second building, and it was torn down in1968, the year I graduated from Eastman. This is directly behind the Memorial Art Gallery, this building here, this is Anderson hall here, but there are only a couple of things that survived from this building. If you look in the front there are two sphinxes guarding the entrance, and if you look in the niches in the western facade there are four Greek muses and they have survived and they're familiar to you. Here are the sphinxes. And here are the muses. I amuse myself by thinking man, I don't know what was going on with those sisters but something was really unhappy, right? This one is just clearly irked because she is leaving, these two are talking between themselves and I don't know what this one said but the end result of it was really unpleasant, that's for sure. That's the residue. There is one other residue of Sibley hall and that is the Sibley Music Library. This was the first home of the Sibley Music Library. And it was Hiram Sibley who started the collection. He was a great collector or musical scores and books on music and so he donated all of that and it became the basis for the famous Sibley Music Library. And you should know that the Sibley Music Library and the Eastman School is the largest collegiate music library in existence. And in the western hemisphere, the three most important music libraries in the western hemisphere are the library of congress--no surprise--,New York public--no surprise--, and the Sibley library at the Eastman School. It is an astonishing collection to which I can attest because I used it all the time and continue to.