War + Babies = TESC

So there was this thing called the Baby Boom, you see. And then there was this other thing the Library of Congress Subject Headings manual calls the "Vietnamese Conflict, 1961-1975." Combine these two terms, and you have the main ingredients for the creation of The Evergreen State College.

Who are the Baby Boomers? We are the most labelled generation in U.S. history. At birth we were already given a tag. As teenagers, having a little hair over our ears made us Hippies. We hit the work force and became Yuppies. And now, as we age and become geriatric, we'll be called Gerries. You read it here first, kids.

Here's my definition of the Baby Boom: Those children born from 1946-1964 in the United States. The Boom peaked in 1957 at 4,308,000 estimated live births. However, for the purposes of this installment of Evergroove, I'll be mostly talking about the first wave of Boomers, those who were born during the Truman years and in Ike's first term, 1946-1957. The majority of TESC students in the 1970s came from this generation.

Our fathers had come back from WWII or Korea (or in the case of my father-in-law, both. I salute you, Bob. My own father was in during the Korean thing) and since it looked like the world was going to settle a bit, they went about getting married, finding employment, buying houses, and having kids. Lots of them. Lots and lots and lots of them.

We were born into a country with 48 stars on the flag. Where television was just starting to become the cultural glue that would, for better or worse, bind my age group together more effectively than any political or religious movement. Where computers were the size of a minivan. Where segregation was still alive in the South. And where the threat of Hitler (rumors that he was still alive persisted into the 1960s) and the Japanese had been replaced by the Soviet Union and China.

The United States went into panic mode when the Soviets launched the world's first satellite, Sputnik, in 1957. To add insult to injury, that little chunk of metal flew over our skies on a regular basis and was easily spotted with the naked eye. The Cold War heated up and the Space Race began with a manned lunar landing being the prize in the contest. Once Armstrong set foot on the Moon in 1969, the United States gained a major psychological advantage in the struggle to be the #1 superpower.

When JFK took office the Cold War really got scarey. The Berlin Wall went up overnight. The Bay of Pigs got messy. During the Cuban Missile Crisis, many people believed WWIII was about to begin. At Roosevelt Elementary we had three drills: fire drill, earthquake drill, and nuclear war drill. The nuclear war drill was like the earthquake drill (get under your desk) except the siren had a more eerie and mournful pitch to it. After several of these drills, many of us kids wondered if we were going to make it to adulthood. When I was a Boy Scout, some of our troop fathers, who were stationed at Fort Lewis, would take us on field trips to the Fort to watch mock battles or sit in tanks. "That uniform you're wearing now is preparing you for the real thing later, " I remember being told.

This sense of being in a state of war, of being on the edge of disaster, persisted throughout our childhood and teen years. JFK was assassinated in Nov. 1963, Nixon resigned Aug. 1974, and those two dates in my mind serve as bookends for an era of chaos. In between them was an egotistical Texan in the White House who was basing a murky and unpopular war on a foundation of lies. Yes, history can repeat itself.

One world event that took place right before we were born, the dropping of the atomic bombs on Hiroshima and Nagasaki in 1945, was the real dividing line between the way our parents viewed life and the way we perceived things. Having grown up in the shadow of that mushroom cloud gave us a sense of urgency in our protests. With the likes of LBJ and Nixon at the helm, working through the system seemed pointless. Something had to be done NOW!!!! before we blow up the whole world! It wasn't until Jimmy Carter was in office that I realized the country didn't have to always be in a state of war or riots or great social unrest.

Anyway, this Vietnam thing sort of crept in and somehow we found ourselves in a war we didn't understand. When that master of the media, Ron the Con took office in the 1980s, he did not allow the press free run in war zones. Reagan had learned from Vietnam. In the 1960s and early 70s, we saw the carnage, unedited, night after night on the news. This did not help the case for staying in Southeast Asia. And what happened was that the images we were exposed to did not match the rhetoric given to us by the political leaders. The closest event I can relate this to in modern terms was the debacle of Hurricane Katrina, where the President's contrived media presentations did not match the images we were shown by reporters. I'm sure if the press had the same kind of freedom in Iraq that they had in Vietnam, Bush might be in the single digits in the polls by now. As long as we don't see the war, then it remains a cherished and glorious concept. But we saw Vietnam in our living rooms night after night. We saw American kids, fellow Boomers, valiantly trying to make the lies of the leaders come true. And more importantly, our parents watched all this too. They didn't like it any more than we did.

I'm getting to Evergreen. Really. Hang on.

One big difference between Vietnam and Iraq was the draft. In the 1960s-early 70s, if you were male, you'd get a little notice from the Selective Service about a month before you turned 18 informing you that registering for conscription was the law. They had a lottery system based on your birthday. If you were assigned a number between 1 to 90, the odds of getting drafted were pretty high. My number was 68. But as fate would have it, Nixon ended the active draft that year. So, the way the Army got recruits was a deal called a "nudge from the judge." If you were a young man who got in trouble, the court would give you a choice, serve time or serve your country. Several of my high school buddies went into uniform in this manner.

But, you know how things work, even with the draft the rich kids managed to avoid serving in the war zone while everyone else did the dirty work. Back then, it was possible to avoid military service by simply being in college.

Now remember, we are the Baby Boom. Everywhere we went filled up. In Olympia, the grade schools were at top capacity in the 1960s. We opened up Oly's third junior high school, Reeves in 1969, built to accomodate our growing numbers. Olympia High School, which was Oly's only high school during this era, was as packed as a Japanese commuter train. And, thanks to the incentive of avoiding the draft, we filled up the colleges.

Now, when the Council of College Presidents released A Plan for Public Higher Education in Washington in 1964, calling for the creation of the first four-year school in the State in the 20th century, I'm sure they had all sorts of high-minded reasons and justifications. But the real deal was this: The Vietnam War was driving thousands of young men into the world of higher education, where they might otherwise not have gone.

And so the stage was set.

The Third Time's a Charm

In 1894 one John R. Chaplin reserved 25 acres, "to build upon said College Site a plant suitable for college purposes and to be occupied and used for the same, which shall cost not less than $50,000 and which shall be completed within two years from date." Apparently, the college never went beyond paper and the venture fizzled out.

Six years later, the same Mr. Chaplin spearheaded another attempt. The 1900 venture was called The People's University. Could you imagine if it was here today all the jokes about "P.U."? This time the new school made it as far as getting a flag pole on the Cooper Point campus (apparently situated in the Athens Beach area).

While the Cooper Point site was still awaiting development, a building was used on Plum street and the University did in fact operate for a short time with students, faculty, and even a school paper, The College Independent. But it died out about 1906. When TESC began to form, some Olympia oldtimers recalled Chaplin's dream. He was remembered either as a charlatan or utopian, depending on the teller of the story. I'm sure some oldtimers of the future will have the same mixed messages about a few of the TESC leaders during the formative years.

C.T. Conover & The Evergreen State

How did The Evergreen State College get the name of The Evergreen State College? The Jan. 25, 1968 issue of the Daily Olympian tells part of the story under the headline "Our College Gets a Colorful Name : Trustees Call Signals For Evergreen State." Notice the "Our" in there. That word would not appear in any headlines after TESC opened. Anyway, here's what the article had to say:

"The board of trustees of The Evergreen State College went at the task of picking their new name Wednesday with all the delicacy of a demolition squad disarming a time bomb. Board members, who named Dr. Garrett Heyns, Olympia, to an advisory committee to help select a president, voted unanimously for the name: The Evergreen State College, with emphasis on the word The. The word was apparently added to prevent any other institution from filching the name. 'This is the Evergreen State,' said trustee Al Saunders, Tacoma, who made the motion for it. 'It will probably be the only college with that name.'"

"Trueman (Bink) Schmidt, Olympia, chairman of the board, asked if the trustees didn't think they should at least consider some of the other names suggested. At its meeting in Spokane January 10, the board narrowed a number of suggestions down to Capitol State College, Olympia State College and Washington State College at Olympia, as well as Evergreen. 'The word capital is overdone,' Saunders said. 'There is capital this and capital that in this community. It might be thought of as a business school,' he added. Using the word Olympia, he said, might 'tie the school to the city,' thus irritating such places as Aberdeen, Hoquiam and Centralia. Schmidt said naming it Washington State College at Olympia could cause confusion with Washington State University. Trustee Halvor Halvorson, Spokane, remarked that such a name was opposed in his area. Halvorson also noted that putting Olympia in the name might confuse it with Olympic College at Bremerton."

"Mrs. Janet Tourtellotte, a trustee from Seattle, said she had at first preferred a name with historical interest. 'So many of them are used and over-used,' she said, 'while others are so little known' that she had decided against an historical name. To a suggestion she had from an Olympia resident that it be named for Charles Wilkes, who led the United States Exploration Expedition of 1841 which first charted Puget Sound, Mrs. Tourtellotte said few people had ever heard of him. Schmidt suggested that such a name might lead some to believe it was a private school. He suggested that maybe the board might want to table the name for a later meeting. But Saunders said the board was not likely to arrive at a better name and that any delay would 'hold up programs' of the college." [End of Daily Olympian article]

So where did Washington's nickname, "the Evergreen State" come from? It has been attributed to C.T. (Charles Tallmadge) Conover, a Seattle newspaper columnist and pioneer realtor. He apparently concocted the term in the late 1800s. In addition to inventing the Evergreen phrase, Conover was also instrumental in retaining the name of Mount Rainier when efforts were made to change it to Mount Tahoma or Tacoma. Mr. Conover was also a writer of local history and was a great friend to libraries (a big plus in my book, no pun intended). Something tells me he would have enjoyed knowing an innovative college carried his phrase. He almost lived long enough to see it, C.T. died just a few days short of his 99th birthday in August, 1961.

In 1979, during my final year at TESC, the "The" was very nearly dropped from the name. I'll talk about the 1978-79 school year (the year from Hell) in a future segement. For now I'll offer the opinion that the "The" might have been viewed as arrogant and pretentious in the past, but it did help the school get noticed and today it stands out as a quaint remnant of the era from which Evergroove was born. Keep the The.

The Dedication Ceremony

On dedication day we arrived at the circle and the first thing we saw was the flag at half mast. The same flag that had been presented to the College a few days earlier by the local VFW. Why was it at half mast? By coincidence, this day was also a national protest against Nixon's Cambodian bombing. This half mast flag alone was worth, and I'm not kidding, a year's worth of angry letters to the editor in the Daily Olympian. Then we walked across Red Square where flamboyantly garbed students handed out flowers and wished us peace. The ceremony took place inside the lobby of the Library Building, with the landing on the stairs acting as a stage. President McCann, as part of the national protest, was wearing a black armband. This was also worth many angry letters from Olympians. Somehow, the fact that Dan Evans, our Republican(!) Governor was also wearing a black armband, was mostly overlooked. Gov. Evans spoke about the dwindling natural resources and our runaway consumerism and how he hoped TESC would be part of the answer in saving the planet. It was a good speech.

At some point in the presentation, students seized the microphone, denounced the War, and then hung an effigy of Nixon off the balcony. It was the first time I heard the words "Right on!" used in public (as I said, Olympia was a bit behind in those days). The city fathers and Olympia pillars of the community who were sitting in the front rows were having cardiac arrests. I enjoyed every minute of this and knew this was the school for me. That effigy of Nixon remained employed around campus for several years and seemed to go from one room to another. I often wonder whatever became of it.

Cooper Point

"I think his idea's obscenely"

Rep. Kuehnle made a motion in Apr. 1973 to eliminate TESC from the budget (an 11 million savings at that time). He called Evergreen "a school for poets, nonconformists and revolutionaries." Rep. Barney Goltz, a Bellingham Democrat, responded on the floor with, "I don't know what Mr. Kuehnle has against poets," and then added:

There once was a solon named Kuehnle
Who very much opposed Evergreenly.
In spite of his song,
Mr. Kuehnle is wrong.
I think his idea's obscenely.

"Congratulations," responded Kuehnle, "You sound like a four-year graduate of that institution." (I wonder what Rep. Kuehnle would've made of the poem I described in pt. 23 of this series?)

Kuehnle's motion was defeated by a vote of 82 to 3.

The Spokane Rep. made a second attempt to shut down TESC later that year. This time he described the school as "an academic fairyland" and a place where students "build architecturally pleasing teepees." He was defeated in a voice vote. And Rep. Goltz got in another poem:

Mr. Kuehnle is back on the floor,
knocking down Evergreen's door.
He will not owe it
To any one poet,
But I think it's to be laid on the floor.

More serious attempts to shut down or drastically change the school would come later. In the meantime, these attacks were a tremendous aid in helping TESC students develop an espirit de corps and try even harder to make the experiment work.

Dan the Man's Retirement Plan

President McCann surprised the students when he announced, at the start of the 1976-77 school year, that he was going to resign halfway through his second 6 year term as President. By coincidence, Gov. Evans, who was not running for a 4th term of office, was going to be looking for work after Jan. 1977. The students wanted to have a say in the hiring process, but when we returned from Christmas break, we discovered the Trustees, all appointed by Dan Evans, had appointed Dan Evans as the new President of TESC. Dr. McCann was given a two-year sabbatical as well. This whole affair really generated a lot of bad press for Evans, McCann, and TESC. The legislators, led by Sen. A.L. "Slim" Rasmussen, investigated the ethics of this transfer of power and as a result came closer than any other time to closing or traditionalizing (like that word? I just made it up) the school. Locals called TESC, "Dan the Man's Retirement Plan."

I'll let the headlines of the era tell the story. Here's the key: ST=Seattle Times, DO=Daily Olympian, TNT=Tacoma News Tribune, BS=Bremerton Sun, SPI=Seattle Post-Intelligencer, VC=Vancouver Columbian, A=Argus, DJA=Daily Journal American.

And so the stage was set for the mainstreaming of Evergroove.

President Dixy?

The Evergrowing State Crisis

Evergroove trivia, pt. 12

In March 1976, this newly vacated area which had served as the home for the Mothball Fleet for so long, became a stage for the Sea World whale drama. Early that month six killer whales were chased into Budd Inlet by aquarium hunters from Sea World, Inc., who employed boats and a seaplane. All six whales were trapped in a net. But in one of those coincidences that makes me think there must be a God and it has a sense a humor, this capture happened at the same time the International Orca Symposium was taking place at TESC. This was a gathering of whale activists and researchers who helped provide some of the people power behind the small navy of protesters that quickly surrounded the hunters. They came in rowboats, kayaks, canoes, at one time more than a hundred protesters were on the water. From shore it looked impressive. Three of the whales broke loose and refused to leave the others, as if joining in the protest. There were student schemes to cut the net and free the orcas, but before a fortnight had passed, legal steps had been taken by Dan Evans to force Sea World to release the others.

Evergroove trivia, pt. 23

in guatemala my sisters scream
and children are killed by the roadside
their blood makes me deeper.

mother myths of ancient times call me and give
me hope

shining i am myself
and all my sisters too
we are womyn
we bleed bright shining blood of positive force.

we bleed
blood in our hands is not death, but life
semen is a bullet scattering like shrapnel tearing
injury and insult
my sisters flesh quivers in surprise every time.

--Deborah Marcuse

Pretty heavy stuff. For all I know this poem was clipped and affixed to refrigerators in various student dwellings across town. But I'm here to tell you I was a witness to the creation of this work. And the young women who authored this poem were rolling on the floor with laughter. I mean really rolling. On the floor. Laughing so hard they could hardly breathe. "How about, 'their blood makes me deeper?' -- BwaahahahaHAHAHHAHAHA!" And then it would be five minutes before they could start talking again, that's how long it took them to regain the ability to converse. Each line went like that. The fact that the authors were Evergreen veterans tells us something, although I'm not sure what.

Evergroove trivia, pt. 24

The evaluation process was one of those experiments, where we had self-evaluations in essay form. When I went to grad school at the UW they didn't know what to make of them, so from the standpoint of throwing a monkey wrench into other institutions, I rather enjoyed that. We also had to write evaluations about our faculty members. On one occasion after my evaluation conference with a faculty member who is still at TESC today, I remembered I had to add my signature or something like that to the document. When I returned to her office to get it back, she sheepishly reached into the trash can to retrieve it. I think even at the moment it happened, I laughed.

I had another teacher, long since gone from this world, who was a brilliant and entertaining lecturer, but when it came to evaluation time, all of us in his class got the very same eval, except for the first word, where our name had been added. But like all experiments, sometimes it worked and sometimes it didn't. If you think about it, it is better preparation for the real-world workplace. Most of us have to deal with essay type evaluations in our jobs. We don't give grades.

Evergroove trivia, pt. 26

Before the age of videos, DVDs, or the Olympia Film Society, Evergreen offered one of the few opportunities in Olympia to view something other than mainstream movies. There were three movie houses downtown: The State, The Capitol, and the Olympic. The State is now Harlequin's place, the Capitol is now OFS (and the most unchanged from its 1960s-70s self), and the Olympic is now where the Washington Center sits. There was a drive-in theater in Tumwater and another in Lacey (where Fred Meyer is today). And that was it. I do recall someone making a brief stab ca. 1975-76 at converting a church into an interesting movie house where Pacific and Martin and 4th and State intersect on the Eastside, but it didn't last long.

TESC would set aside one night a week as a movie evening, with one of the lecture halls serving as a theater. In the early 1970s attending a movie on campus was never dull. During one event, admission was better than free. As we entered, our hands were stamped and each audience member received a dime! Sitting with an Evergreen audience in this era was probably like seeing a movie in the Old West during the silent film time period, as the students talked back to the screen. I recall watching "The Maltese Falcon" around 1972 and the crowd in the hall was more entertaining than the movie itself. Every time Bogart fell into some cliche, or trademark sneer, the viewers hooted and howled and mimicked. The reaction was in a very tight unison.

During the closing years of the 70s, some student groups coming from the Left organized at least two film boycotts, one for "The Knack ... And How To Get It" and another for "Pink Flamingos." At the same time this artistic blacklisting was taking place, across town relgious groups coming from the Right were protesting the showing of "Life of Brian" in mainstream theaters. Some of us saw little difference between these two groups of protesters.

Around 1978-79 I once again saw "The Maltese Falcon" in the same lecture hall. This time the audience sat silent and passive.

And our little life is rounded with a sleep.

Evergroove trivia, pt. 29

This feeling is probably a result of being overexposed to these devices during my years as a student at TESC. The giant puppets creep me out so much that I could easily change my mind about a cause I otherwise would support. On one occasion I visited the Bread and Puppet Theatre headquarters in Vermont, the mothership of these hideous inventions, and I think the experience scarred me for life. Maybe this all traces back to Howdy Doody, the kiddie TV marionette of my childhood. He creeped me out too.

The bullhorn is the other obnoxious feature of protest rallies. Especially if the "Repeat After Me" ploy is used. I drew a cartoon for the CPJ a long time ago. It had a student with a bullhorn and he was chanting, "Repeat after me, 'Question Authority!' Repeat after me, 'Question Authority!'"

Evergroove trivia, pt. 34

Evergroove trivia, pt. 36

The philosophy of education and the types of courses offered at TESC are generally:
Too liberal 64.1%
Acceptable 34.7%
Too conservative 1.1%

TESC should:
Be continued along present lines 31.1%
Be changed to a more conventional four year college 53.5%
Be closed and tax dollars used elsewhere 9.4%

Dr. McCann, President of TESC:
Is doing an excellent job 35.8%
Is doing a mediocre job 28.2%
Should be replaced 35.8%

The existence of TESC has contributed to the drug abuse and crime problem in this area:
To a very great extent 35.4%
No more than a conventional college 55.2%
Very little 9.3%

Seminars and open meetings at TESC such as have been presented concerning male homosexuality, lesbianism, marijuana usage, World Liberation, and other such thought provoking subjects should be:
Encouraged 32.7%
Discouraged 25.0%
Eliminated 41.6%

The hiring of instructors such as anti-war activist Stephanie Coontz to teach at TESC:
Should be encouraged 5.8%
Is acceptable, if balanced by more conservative and conventional instructors 38.2%
Is totally unacceptable 41.6%

This survey generated quite a bit of publicity at the time, and Rep. Kuehnle had some unsolicited responses. Some quotes from those:

""[TESC is] a permanent rock festival here in this town for we taxpayers to support the creeps from out of state who just come here to hide from life. This school is encouraging these young people to use drugs, stay dirty, learn more and meet more homos."

"Did you know that the paved area in front of the libary is known as 'RED SQUARE'?"

Evergroove trivia, pt. 44

There were two aberrations from this neat serial run that deserve mention. The first was The Daily Zero, published as a satire of Olympia's newspaper In April 1977. Today's Olympian was called The Daily Olympian from 1938-1982, and "The Daily Zero" was a longtime common nickname for the paper. The Daily Zero was the brainchild of CPJ staff Matt Groening, Karrie Jacobs, Brad Pokorny, Steve Rabow, Jill Stewart, and Charles Burns and the product poked fun at the right-wing slant of The Daily Olympian. Since the satire had mock ads making fun of Olympia business establishments, there was considerable furor over the publication of this one-shot. It did have the look and feel of the real thing. One bit of humor that might have been missed by some locals: Under "Today's Chortle" The Daily Zero had, "It's getting so you can't tell the boys from the girls these days." In Olympia in 1977, there were still people saying that and thinking they were being clever.

The second effort was entitled The Crapper Point Journal and was not a spinoff from the CPJ. It was underwritten in 1979 by a fed-up faculty member who shall remain anonymous. She gathered up students to produce a spoof of the CPJ and, instead of making fun of Olympia as The Daily Zero did a couple years before, this project turned inward. The premise of this paper was that it was published in 1985, foreshadowing what the school would become in six years. Two features worth mentioning, the full page promo for TESC: "Evergreen, it's not just a college, it's a countryclub," and an interview with the head of the "Juvenile Socialist Alliance." This paper was produced at the conclusion of the Year from Hell (which, I promise, I'll describe later) and seemed almost like a jaded farewell to an Evergreen that once was.

I would argue that both of these satires need to be essential reading for anyone engaged in serious research concerning Evergroove's history. But good luck trying to find copies.

Evergroove trivia, pt. 57

So when did the public get the first inkling that the new college serving Southwest Washington was not going to be a traditional institution? It would appear that Sen. Gordon Sandison, one of the more overlooked among the founders of Evergreen, has the distinction of being the earliest on record for advocating an innovative approach to higher education as the College was being formed.

Gordon Sandison was born in Auburn and raised in Port Angeles, where his father served on the City Council. He attended the University of Idaho and Seattle University. During WWII he fought in the Pacific theater while in the Marines and won the Navy Cross and a Bronze Star for heroism in Guam. Returning to Port Angeles and becoming an active Democrat, his fellow citizens sent him to the Washington State House of Representatives 1947-1959, and to the State Senate 1959-1977. Gov. Ray appointed him Director of Fisheries, 1977-1981. He ran his own insurance business. He was a trustee for WWU from 1980 until his death in 1989 at age 70.

Sandison is chiefly remembered as the Chair of the Senate Higher Education Committee for an astounding 18 years, including the time period when Evergreen was created and opened. Here are the opening lines in his long Seattle Times obituary:

Although he served for 30 years in the Legislature and was state fisheries director under former Gov. Dixy Lee Ray, Sandison is best known as the architect of the state's community-college system and - with then-Gov. Dan Evans - as one of the creators of The Evergreen State College in the capital. As chairman of the Senate Higher Education Committee for 18 years, Sandison sponsored legislation creating the community colleges in 1967. A Democrat, he forged an alliance with Republican Evans to put Evergreen in Olympia and to establish its nontraditional educational approach.

Dean Clabaugh, the earliest of TESC employees (he was not a dean, he was a Dean ... oh, never mind) mentioned Sen. Sandison in his document, The Evergreen State College Developmental Aspects Prior to Appointment of the President written Nov. 1969:

... Perhaps most important was the mandate to the college by executive and Legislature for an innovative approach. Governor Evans declared the need for a "flexible and sophisticated educational instrument" as opposed to the "vast and immobile establishment"; and expressed the need to "unshackle our educational thinking from traditional patterns." Senator Gordon Sandison, chairman of the Advisory Council, remarked:

"It was not the intent of the Legislature that this would be just another four year college; ... (the college would be) a unique opportunity to meet the needs of the students today and the future because the planning would not be bound by any rigid structure of tradition as are the existing colleges nor by any overall central authority as is the case in many states."

By the time the Evergreen Study was presented in 1979 by the Council for Postsecondary Education, which called for severely gutting TESC's experimental approach and making the College more mainstream, both Evans and Sandison were no longer in as powerful positions to protect the school as they had through most of the 1970s. In fact, Sandison was Director of the Dept. of Fisheries at the time they stated TESC graduates could not be hired since they lacked the BS degree.

The Evergreen Study itself pins down the very first meeting of the Trustees as the key moment:

The earliest documentable reference to an educational mode for Evergreen that would be other than conventional appears to be in the comments of the then Chairman of the Senate Higher Education Committee ... Senator Gordon Sandison. In August, 1967, at a meeting with the newly appointed Board of Trustees for the College, Senator Sandison advised it to study the innovations and experiences of other new colleges around the country. He suggested that the new college be of a "perhaps different type. The present three state colleges were built many decades ago and followed traditional lines. We would like this to be a college that will meet the needs of the State for many years to come and perhaps can be as modern fifty years from now as at the present."

So there you have it. The seed was planted by a Port Angeles WWII Marine vet and insurance salesman, and he was a true son of Washington.

KAOS-FM (1975-79)

One of the most popular shows on KAOS-FM during the second half of the 1970s was a musical program dedicated to nothing but cheesy, commercial Hawaiian music.

Go figure.

Evergroove trivia, pt. 1

"One big cookie"

Evergroove trivia, pt. 20

By 1993 the TESC Library had some air quality problems and the place experienced "sick building syndrome." Initially the problem was blamed on the toxic chemicals released when a new carpet was installed. Many employees reported symptoms such as nausea, dizziness, nosebleeds, etc. and refused to show up for work. Expensive consultants were hired to find the source of the problem, and they concluded, "The symptoms building occupants have been exhibiting cannot be explained by any chemical concentrations found."

So, the answer had to be supernatural.

According to the story, a group of employees, including at least one faculty member, privately hired an Oregon psychic to perform a spiritual cleansing. And this gentleman performed his services over the phone. Yes, I said, "over the phone." A few people did grumble because the psychic was really the wrong gender to be doing this important work. Yes, I said, "wrong gender." Even so, his efforts paid off, since the problem apparently went away. And before I make snide judgments on this apocryphal bit of Evergroove folklore (actually, I'm being kind here, since I'm pretty convinced this story is really true), maybe I need to consider this could be related to the ghost I mentioned in Part 6. Come to think of it, has anyone seen that ghost since 1993?

Evergroove trivia, pt. 42

Secondly, the clocktower was a magnet for mountain climber types. Rappelling down the tower was sort of an Evergreen badge of honor. Gov. Evans and faculty member Willi Unsoeld (famous for making the first ascent from the west ridge of Mount Everest in 1963) were two high-profile clocktower adventurers. Willi was a great guy, by the way. He was one of those rare people who exuded a kind of energy that made you feel good just being around him. A charisma, I guess. Evergreen knew how to use his talents in the early years in recruitment efforts and also whenever they got in trouble with legislators. Hey, this guy was no wimpy and pale aesthete. He climbed Everest, by God. Legislators liked that. And so did we, actually.

But the third thing I think about whenever I see that clocktower is really the main thing. I don't know what it is like today, but for years the clocks on that tower never worked in harmony. Seminars, lectures, movies, never started when they were supposed to. We were on Evergreen Time. Our very own time zone, totally separate from Pacific Standard Time. And it was OK. Relax. Don't get uptight about it, man. Time is relative.

Unfortunately, the real world didn't work that way. I had classes in grad school at the UW where they locked the door after class started. If you were late-- too bad. And I wasn't prepared for grades. Or tests. Or the Socratic method. Or feeling like I was back in high school. Or doing a lot of work and not really learning anything except the art of data regurgitation. Coming from early Evergreen to the dusty halls of UW's graduate school was a major culture shock.

Anyway, that clocktower is just a pile of concrete arranged in a certain way. But that's what I think about when I see it.

Evergroove trivia, pt. 56

Evergroove trivia, pt. 6

With Halloween around the corner, this seems as good a time as any to tell the story of Evergreen's resident ghost. Early one morning in 1988, a student worker in the TESC Library was preparing for the day near the periodicals section before the building opened to the public. She freaked when she saw a clean cut young man, all in gray, walk out of an invisible door, stride purposely north to south about 50 feet, and vanish into another invisible door. The witness, as I recall, was a level headed serious student. I talked with her shortly after the incident, and something about it made me remember a long forgotten bit of trivia.

In the Halloween issue of the Daily Olympian in 1968, two decades before this ghost sighting, the paper ran an article about the Churchman family, who sold their property to the State in order to make room for the new college. They lived, as near as I can tell, in what is now the southwest corner of campus. Here is their public statement, which was run on page 1, top of the fold: "To the future students of Evergreen State College. We, the Churchman family of the Lewis Road, west of Olympia, wish to leave a legacy to The Evergreen State College, which will occupy the land we have called home for the last ten years. We have left now, after a reluctant sale of our home to the State of Washington. We leave behind us one small member of our family whom we found it impossible to move. We leave you our household ghost. He came to us about four years ago and his presence has been part of our lives since the day he entered our home unannounced. He is often heard walking about the house and gravel paths and he is often seen and heard opening the doors of the home and other buildings. He seems to be quite at home and comes at all hours of the day and night. He has never attempted to harm any members of the family. Not only are we used to his comings and goings, but the family dogs now ignore him though he is heard walking within a few feet of them. Sometimes they will look when he opens a door but never make a fuss about it. We wonder why he chose our home. Was there something here we never understood? We are going to miss him but we feel our friend will be a good member of the new college. We wonder which group of students he will choose for his new companions when the school is finished and occupied. We hope you will be kind to him, future students, and accept him as we have. Treat him well. He is our legacy to you."

The article goes on with more description of the ghost. He was a "solid-state" apparition of medium build. He liked to turn lights and faucets off and on. SPSCC also has a ghost, The Lady in White, and she likes to play tricks as well. I think we need to get these two together.

Evergroove trivia, pt. 7

Evergroove trivia, pt. 9

Evergroove trivia, pt. 35

There have been many fine lectures it has been my privilege to attend at TESC, but three of them especially stick out in my mind. This trio of presentations reveal, I'm afraid, that I wasn't really all that intellectual as a student. It was the form rather than the content that sticks in this old cartoonist brain of mine.

The first lecture was probably the most utilitarian in terms of helping me later in life. Thad Curtz was giving a talk on child psychology. He played a tape of a baby crying for five straight minutes without interruption. For most of us 20-somethings who had yet to discover the sleeplessness of parenthood, this was excruciating and seemed to last forever. When I became a father a few years later, having the crying limited to five minutes would've been welcome.

I can't remember what the point of his lecture was supposed to be, but Byron Youtz gave the second memorable class. He had set up a giant mobile in one of the lecture halls, and set it spinning. But something went horribly wrong and it careened out of control, threatening to clobber anyone who could not duck. A real Pit and the Pendulum situation. There might have been some screaming. That always spices up any educational experience.

The third memorable lecture was around 1978-79 by the late, great Richard Jones for the Shakespeare program. And this one actually had an impact on TESC administrative policy. Some of us were loitering around the outside of the lecture hall doors, just visiting before going in, when we saw a particularly agitated classmate of ours push past us and storm in. A few seconds later we heard Richard yell that student's name followed by a line I normally associated with B-movies, "Nooooooooooooooo!" Then we saw several dazed looking students come out the door as if a bomb had just gone off. Apparently our stirred up fellow pupil had leaped over several rows of seats to pound the living daylights out of another attendee. A few years later, the existence of a "problem-student" monitoring task force had been revealed at TESC, and I believe Richard was a member. He cited the 1978-79 incident as the spark that created this group.

Evergroove trivia, pt. 37

They were watching J.P. Patches.

Any Baby Boomer who grew up in Puget Sound knows about J.P. Patches. Oh, there were other shows for kids: Brakeman Bill (with Crazy Donkey), Capt. Puget, Wunda Wunda, Stan Boreson. But J.P. was the king. His show was live, improvisational, and fun. I was a member of his earliest audience out of KIRO, and grew up with him. When I had to write a paper about children's television, it seemed only natural to write about J.P.

To my amazement, when I left a message at the TV station about my interest, J.P. called me back and agreed to talk with me. I had seen him only twice before in person. I saw him at the Century 21 Exposition (Seattle World's Fair) in 1961, and he also came to the grand opening of the shopping complex where Rainy Day Records now sits, which took place about the same era.

When I showed up at the station early one morning, I was ushered into a little sound booth. Through the glass I saw the set of J.P.'s home in the City Dump. In the booth there was a TV and it was playing what was being broadcast at the moment, a really low-budget choppy animated bit about "Little Johnny Everything," which had an annoying jingle throughout it. The door opened, and it was J.P. "Are you Willis?" he asked. Yup. "Keep watching," he pointed at the screen, "Maybe you'll learn something new." He followed this comment with a jaded laugh and walked to the set to begin performing.

There were two things that really stick in my mind about his performance that morning, over 30 years ago. First, the off-camera crew were constantly barraging him with sound effects and camera shots that forced a response from him. All unrehearsed. He was the master of improv. One incredibly obnoxious sound effect they kept playing over and over and over was from the cartoon I had seen in the booth, "I'm Little Johnny EVVVVVVERYTHING!!" Secondly, whenever there was a cartoon or commercial break, J.P. whipped off his gloves and started dragging on a cigarette like there was no tomorrow. I think you had to grow up with his show in order to appreciate just how disturbing a sight that was.

After the show, I accompanied J.P. to his dressing room. He talked to me as he removed his greasepaint. His head would disappear behind a small partition, and every few minutes he would lift up to look at me, and his real face slowly emerged in stages. Somehow I felt like this was something I should not be seeing. When I told him about the students in A Dorm, he said around junior high level he lost his audience, but they came back as adults, appreciating the show at another level. J.P. was delighted that he had an especially enthusiastic audience at TESC. He viewed himself as an actor and strictly an entertainer, and seemed modest about his role as a Northwest icon.

J.P. spent a good couple hours talking with me and patiently answered all my questions. As he donned his leisure suit, we went out to the station lounge and I met the guy who played Gertrude. Here I was, a nobody college kid, and these two were very generous with their time. J.P. told me many stories, most of which are also recorded in his recent autobiography.

I asked J.P. why the crew kept playing that sound bite from "Little Johnny Everything." And he said, "Because they know I hate that little bastard."

Evergroove trivia, pt. 43

While I was back there I visited the ghost-town campus of Franconia College in New Hampshire. Franconia was another alternative school, but it folded up in the second half of the 1970s and Evergreen had a small wave of refugees come from the Granite State. A former Franconia student gave me a guided tour of the place. We had to dodge security people and it sort of reminded me of the days when we would sneak into the TESC steam tunnels at night. The grounds were overgrown and the buildings were starting to show some wear. It really brought home the high-risk nature of experimental colleges in those days. There were other schools that folded up as well during that era.

The best paying job I had in Vermont, armed with my TESC BA in Liberal Arts, was driving a taxicab in Burlington. I never let the company know I was a college grad. There was one other guy in the fleet who had a BA, and the others called him "Doc." If people asked me what I did for a living, I enjoyed answering, "I'm in transportation."

Evergroove trivia, pt. 46

Kesey himself came to campus to visit once or twice. In the 1980s I had a chance to talk with Kesey at a conference, and he told me he always thought of Evergreen as "The school without chairs." Initially he was talking about furniture, but since the school didn't have traditional academic departments with department chairs, maybe he was giving me a double meaning.

Evergroove trivia, pt. 13

Evergroove trivia, pt. 15

One time I was alongside him on campus when we had to move aside on a narrow walkway for an attractive young woman who was coming from the opposite direction. "Say there young lady," he chirped in his unique sing-song way, "I bet if they had a contest for the straightest posture on campus, you'd WIN!" And of course she was startled, looking like someone who had walked into a spider web by accident. He introduced himself and (oh-please-don't!) then introduced me, "And this is my handsome young friend, Steve ..." Needless to say, the next time I saw this woman as I was walking alone, I got a very strange look. He became a legend around school, and the source of considerable speculation, particularly since he was very quiet about his past. One time three of us went through his hometown while on the way to the coast, and we decided to look up his house via the phone book. And we found the address-- a vacant lot!!! Eeyow!

Flash forward a couple decades to the 1990s, after he had long since passed on. I'm cataloging material for a little local museum and I'm handling Aberdeen newspaper clippings from the 1940s. There was one clipping that made me stop cold. It was from 1948. Henry Wallace, the Progressive Party candidate for president is visiting Grays Harbor. Next to him are two local candidates of his party running for legislative offices. And it was the smile one of them was wearing, I recognized it. The would-be politician in the photo, next to Henry Wallace, was none other than our legendary fellow student when he was a younger man.

Evergroove trivia, pt. 19

Evergroove trivia, pt. 25

There were also lots of ceramic figures, grotesque and whimsical, but you had to work to find them in this jungle gallery.

Once in awhile I'd stumble across a dwelling, but never once did I meet a resident. A few of these makeshift homes were pretty impressive and it was obvious from their design that the intent was for long term occupancy. During this decade students would vanish at the rate of one or two a year and the woods would be combed by Security and local law enforcement. Whenever this search took place, I understand they flushed out a few squatters with each sweep.

One resident of the woods I stopped hearing about during my last couple years as a student was the bear who roamed the TESC forest. It probably left for other quarters after dealing with too many squatters, too many search parties, and too many ceramic gargoyles.

Evergroove trivia, pt. 27

Although the prevailing religious attitude at TESC during the early years was one of secular humanism, there were some groups on campus that made their presence known. There was a Breatharian who visited the school every once in awhile, spreading the word that food was not really necessary in order to live. The Moonies made sweeps in the early years, and took away one of my friends, Alison. Before Heaven's Gate (the suicide cult that hitched a ride on Hale-Bopp in 1997) was given that name, they were known as followers of "The Two." They came through Olympia ca. 1975 and seemed surprisingly calm and normal looking. SGI/Nichiren Buddhism appeared to have a big following on campus during this era.

Occasionally generic street corner Christian evangelists would show up and start spreading the Good Word right in front of the CAB. They liked to pick nice, sunny days. As we all know, days like that are at a premium during the school year and such spiritual shouting would get annoying. On one such day a very earnest man was waving a Bible around and proclaiming, "There is no question this book can't answer!" And some smartass student yelled out, "What's the capital city of South Dakota?" And the poor guy actually tried to answer it before realizing it didn't really matter. Come to think of it, I might have been the student who shouted the question.

This evangelist had the misfortune to plant himself next to a table where a student was selling t-shirts for KAOS-FM. And the KAOS kid had a real knack for taking advantage of the situation and feeding off the sermons. The preacher would proclaim, "You are all going to Hell!" "And while on your way," the KAOS seller would add, "Wear a KAOS t-shirt!" But finally, all fun things had to come an end. TESC Security showed up, stopped the speaker, and the officer addressed the crowd. He told us he had several complaints about this preacher disturbing a nice, sunny day. But he left the decision up to the students, thumbs up, or, thumbs down? Shades of ancient Rome! I was a thumbs up, since I enjoyed the entertainment, but I was in the tiny minority. So everyone was happy. The preacher could claim civil martyrdom and students finally got some peace.

There were two other preachers of that time period that come to mind. I never knew if he made it to Evergreen or not, but there was a very good evangelist who visited schools up and down the West Coast in the 1970s named Holy Hubert (he died a couple years ago). This guy was a real pro and a joy to watch. He was so good and could hold his own so well that nonbelieving students considered it a major achievement to tongue-tie him. And it happened once in awhile. I saw him a few times at the UW, and maybe even at UC Berkeley when I visited down there. Seeing him at TESC would've been a real treat. The other "preacher" of the 1970s was the Rev. Chumleigh, who was a Reverend in name only. In truth he was an alternative Vaudevillian and a regular visitor on campus.

There is one religious movement that bears a very special mention. During the 1974-75 school year, forces greater than any human created the Jobbo Bonobo cult. I had the privilege of witnessing the spontaneous birth of this short-lived but colorful movement. Jobbo Bonobo was the name of a cartoon character with a limited audience. He was a seedy clown. One of my friends was pacing in the kitchen on the 3rd floor of A Dorm and attempting to sort out a personal problem. Whenever it popped in his head, he would say, for no apparent reason, "Jobbo Bonobo." Perhaps it was the musical quality of the name. Maybe he was speaking in tongues. Whatever his problem was (and I never learned the source of his stress), he sure said "Jobbo Bonobo" a lot.

It was perhaps after the tenth utterance of that name that a vision appeared in the doorway. It seemed then, and does in hindsight, like a miracle had taken place. There, with facepaint, a big red nose, a garish wig, and a funny suit with polka dots, stood a real clown. Jobbo Bonobo in the flesh. However, in truth, we knew this was a fellow student who shares a name with a famous poet. She later became a respected educator. Why she was garbed like that and chose to arrive at that point in time is a mystery to me. I'm sure she had no idea what she had walked into.

So, a small group of us carried her in a chair to the common courtyard, where a larger group formed a circle around her and proclaimed, "All hail Jobbo Bonobo!" I think the phrase, "Jobbo is everything and nothing!" originated there as well. For the rest of the school year, the Jobbo cult grew as sort of a Dada movement.

I dropped out in the 1975-76 school year, but one day I came back to campus to visit. A complete stranger approached me and asked, "Have you heard the word of Jobbo?"

Frightening.

Evergroove trivia, pt. 28

It was Dec., 1974. He had a calendar in his hand. During the entire quarter he documented the weather. "Look at this! Look at this!" and he ran his finger across the little squares, each one representing a day, and each one with a one-word description of the climate: "Rain. Rain. Rain. Overcast. Overcast. Rain. Rain ... How do you guys stand it? I'm going back to Chicago." Yes, back to Chicago, the city with subzero winters, humid summers, filthy air and lots of wind. He thought it was better than this and he did indeed leave Evergreen after only a few months. I wonder how many others from out-of-state were short-timers at TESC for the same reason? The fact that the College was still under construction also meant lots of mud to go with the rain.

Another natural aspect of Cooper Point catching new arrivals by surprise were the slugs. The slimy animals seemed to regard all concrete walkways as their highway, and they were hard to avoid. Cartoonist Jim Chupa, who adopted the style of Robert Crumb, used slugs as his regular characters in his CPJ comic art. Around 1977, when I lived in ASH (Adult Student Housing, now called Cooper Glen or something like that), I had a roommate who was fascinated by slugs. This was the same guy I mentioned in Part 27 who uttered the phrase that started the cult on campus. He was a native of Michigan. He captured two big slugs and named them Jobbo and Bonobo. And then he kept them in a giant jar with a tinfoil lid poked with holes. After a week or so, the inner surface of the jar was incredibly disgusting, and it didn't smell so good either. After a few days the slugs were constantly hanging around the lid, attempting to break free. The pathos of this situation had a strong impact on my friend, who decided to set them free one evening. But the next morning he had second thoughts, and ran out outside yelling, "Jobbo! Bonobo! Come home! Come home!" It was not be, and our lives seemed emptier as a result. Their frisky presence no longer warmed our domicile.

But you know the old Northwest saying: "If you love something, set it free. If it comes back to you, it's yours. If it doesn't, it never was. We do not possess anything in this world, least of all slugs. We only imagine that we do. Terrestrial gastropod mollusks are not ours; they belong only to themselves. Possessing and controlling them can be as harmful as neglect."

I think there's a lesson there for all of us.

Evergroove trivia, pt. 39

This story fascinated me so much that it stuck in my cranium for years. This was weirder than anything I could make up, and he served as the inspiration (i.e., I simply lifted him) for a character I used in my comic book series Bezango WA 985 (shameless plug, you can find my comix for sale at the Danger Room, just ask for the books by Olympia's oldest cartoonist, which isn't really true since I'm sure Tucker Petertil is a bit older than me). Anyway, here's how this Evergreen legend turned into a comic character, (my character had a cape, mask, and a big M on his shirt) I'll quote from issue #2:

"If you spill something, like a glass of orange juice on the kitchen counter, you can call the Midnight Sponge at any time, doesn't matter if it is 2 in the morning or 2 in the afternoon, and he'll show up with a big sponge and clean the mess. We all know his true identity, but we pretend we don't. And when we run across his day-job self, we are always sure to praise the heroic deeds of that mysterious hero and conclude with, 'I wonder who he really is. Where does he go? What dark secret is he protecting?' Then both of us go through a mutual bit of acting, since I'm sure he knows that we know who he really is."

"If you want to know who he really is, I'm afraid you'll just have to move to Bezango."

Evergroove trivia, pt. 4

Dogs became a big political issue when, according to legend, some legislators were visiting the new Evergreen campus and witnessed a dog doing his business on the library carpet. Included in the press coverage was an article in the Daily Olympian (Mar. 9, 1972, p. 8) that had a mention of a dog who would later become a very special part of Evergreen history. His name was Peanut Butter. He was a little terrier type of canine who was indeed the color of peanut butter and was a fixture on campus. Peanut Butter's owner was a student. The 1975 graduation ceremonies were noteworthy due to the fact that TESC was producing the first "pure" class, students who had attended the school for 4 years.

I recall two special features about that event. First, the only person wearing a cap and gown had a gorilla suit underneath it, and second, President McCann gave an honorary degree to Peanut Butter. Like many other TESC grads, Peanut Butter never left campus. Through the rest of the 1970s, I'd be walking across Red Square, getting headaches trying to understand some assignment, and this little dog would smugly trot by, nose in air, as if to say, "Ha! I have a degree and you DON'T. Chump!" Actually, seeing Peanut Butter always made me smile.

In 1983, I was saddened to see a lost dog poster in the Olympia Timberland Library neighborhood. It was for Peanut Butter, who must have been pretty old by then. He was an Evergreen grad that needs to be remembered.

Evergroove trivia, pt. 45

TESC's first Library head honcho was the late, great Jim Holly. Among his many innovative ideas was the concept to create a collection that would be media-integrated. If you browsed the shelves for say, H.L. Mencken, you would not only find monographs but also sound cassettes of interviews with him. If you wanted to read about bridge engineering, you might find a portable video tape loop of Galloping Gertie (to be played on machine that is now extinct, I'm sure) next to some dry engineering tome. The collection reflected the dynamic and creative experimental curriculum. No other library of equal size was as fun to peruse as Evergroove's.

One area of the library that caught the interest of a certain student composer was the music section. He discovered the sound cassettes had extra room at the end of the tapes. So he recorded his own work on them. Or, he recorded some commentary. Then he returned it to the shelves. I sometimes wonder how many of these little sound bombs he bequeathed are still in the collection.

This same individual like to don a tinfoil mask and walk around in his alter-ego of "Nom Binto." Also, I was present when he tied himself up, donned a knit hat, declared himself the "Easter Pimp," and then hopped around like a bunny until he broke through a window. He also enjoyed shaving off his eyebrows.

What happened to this person? He enlisted in the military and served a stint as one of the guys with his finger on the button in a nuclear missile silo in the Midwest. During the Reagan years, no less. As one who grew up and came of age in the Cold War era, I consider it a miracle we are still here.

Anyway, today this artist/soldier is a highly regarded composer. I have a couple of his CDs and they are really creative, original, and a joy to play. This guy is really good. If you want to find out more about the thoughts of Nom Binto, I would suggest playing Russian roulette with the older sound cassettes in the TESC Library collection and continue playing after the commercial recording is finished.

Evergroove trivia, pt. 47

"I'm in with the in crowd,
I go where the in crowd goes
I'm in with the in crowd
And I know what the in crowd knows ..."

About 50 faces looked up to regard his performance, and 49 of those faces were looking blank. But he made me smile.

Evergroove trivia, pt. 48

As one would expect, Evergreen had many talented artists, musicians, cartoonists, and writers. One of my favorite student artists was a guy named Kevin Wildermuth who attended TESC in the mid-1970s. Kevin considered himself to be a conceptual artist and thirty years later continues to follow his passion. If you know the Seattle gallery scene, I'm sure you have seen his work.

His masterpiece, as far as I am concerned, was the result of some town-gown coordination. Somehow Kevin had managed to talk a nice elderly woman in his Maple Park neighborhood into taking part in this effort. Her name was Rosie.

While Rosie sat in a chair, Kevin was behind an enormous piece of card stock paper propped on an easel. An early version of the videorecorder (probably a U-matic) was documenting this scene, and I believe he had it on a tripod so there was no third person involved. Rosie was seated in a position where she could not see what Kevin what drawing. The artwork was also hidden from the videorecorder. And finally, Kevin himself could not see what he was drawing. He was wearing a big blindfold.

After he finished drawing, the artwork was slipped into a huge envelope. If memory serves, I believe he did this twice, resulting in two envelopes containing artwork no one had seen. Not Rosie, not the camera, not even the artist himself.

The envelopes were then sealed. Rosie and Kevin went to a notary and had a statement verified that the artwork in the envelopes was indeed never seen by a human eye. Then he stamped the words "Certified Unseen" on each envelope. When the envelopes were exhibited in the Library art gallery, the notary statement was also on the wall. Maybe the videotape was there too, because I remember watching it someplace or other.

For a while, Kevin lived at the bottom of Harrison Hill, in a funny little house, now long gone, that would have been at the SW "corner" of today's roundabout. There was traffic light at the bottom of that hill, and if you visited Kevin you were treated to the constant sound of screeching tires. This was during the big CB radio craze, and for some reason any transmissions on a passing CB radio would be broadcast through Kevin's stereo system, which in turn would make Kevin jump and scream obscenities into a CB radio he had rigged up in his living room. Needless to say, this happened frequently whenever I visited him and I came to accept these interruptions as just part of normal conversation with him.

Evergroove trivia, pt. 49

One morning a week a very noisy garbage truck would visit the common area between the four dorm buildings and wake up the residents with that annoying high-pitched alarm indicating the vehicle was moving in reverse. At some point we noticed the truck was visiting almost every morning. Did it have to be so loud, and so early, and so frequent?

Something about this didn't sound right to the housing officials. Upon investigation they discovered that the same guys who were behind the tic-tac-toe game (mentioned in Evergroove trivia, pt. 19) had also taped the annoying high-pitched alarm and were playing it at very early hours for the enjoyment of everyone.

Evergroove trivia, pt. 50

It was almost as if we are all endowed with a set amount of energy, and our dear friend Steve Charak burned his up earlier than the rest of us. My fellow artist Garn Turner called Steve "a force of nature." But man, what a show!

Steve arrived in Olympia from Chicago about 1976-77, I'd guess. I first met him shortly after he landed here. He was behind the counter of some fish and chips place on the Westside, with a ridiculous fast food hat floating a good foot above his cranium thanks to his wild hair which he called his "Jewfro." Most who got to know him later in life when his head was shaved find it hard to believe he had such a mane. He was a human blur in constant motion, his energy level was so intense I got tired just watching him. The only time I ever saw him move like a normal person was whenever he had the flu or a cold or something that would slow him down.

Not long after that meeting, we were classmates in an Evergreen program and became friends. Steve quickly became one of the great networkers in the group. Getting to know everyone and bringing up topics we could all relate to. The class was a microcosm of what he would do in the larger Olympia community in the future.

He is the only person I ever knew who enjoyed trivia as much as myself, particularly about the U.S. Presidents or the Beatles (a rather strange combination, say what?) and we tried to trip each other up in rapid fire.

Steve was involved in all kinds of campus activities and causes. He was a prolific writer and musician. According to legend, when Steve left his job at KAOS, they had to find three people to replace him.

One of the qualities I always loved about Steve was his ability to be a social activist with a great sense of humor. He took whatever cause he was working for seriously, but that didn't mean he had to take himself seriously (He would've really enjoyed participating in OlyBlog). Perhaps that is why he was drawn to the field of education, working with all that magical kid energy. For awhile he was a classroom teacher in the Olympia School District, but Steve being Steve, he went out on his own and became a one-man school.

His creation of Young Voices a magazine that gave children an opportunity to see their writing and art in print was pure Steve. He also earned a strong following through his writing workshops.

His knack for publicity was almost magic, and shameless! I swear his picture was in the Olympian at least 4 times a year. When Dan Evans' photo appeared in TESC promotional material, there was Steve next to the former Governor.

During 1977 or so, we were near neighbors in ASH (now called Cooper Glen or something like that). He had always been real encouraging about my comix, and had a wall in his dining room plastered with my work called "Willis Wall," after the rock feature on Mt. Rainier. Being the coordinator that he was, he managed to rope me into several projects, including drawing the cover for his final book, Making Mistakes.

After Steve's death at age 51 in Dec. 2004, the memorial crowd was remarkable not only for the sheer size, but also for the diversity. The mixture of old Olympia and the Evergreen community, not to mention the large percentage of children, was a true testimony to Steve's gift of energy and finding common ground with everyone in the local area.

Mmmm. Chocolate Pie

In 1974 the community kitchen on the 3rd floor of A Dorm was blessed with one student who loved to cook. And her dishes never failed to fill the air with a pleasing aroma. But there was a problem. Someone was stealing food out of the community kitchen fridge, including our favorite cook's gastronomical works of art. So she decided to do something about it. She cooked a gift for the repeat thief.

One day she made a nice chocolate pie and stored it in the fridge. Sure enough, within a short time it was taken. But that was her intent when she prepared it. I don't know many other people who would've been so generous when it came to food robbers.

Oh, I almost forgot to mention one important ingredient. The pie was made with chocolate Ex-Lax.

Evergroove trivia, pt. 10

Evergroove trivia, pt. 11

When the event was over, Gus walked out to the circle and got into the car that was waiting for him. It was a Lincoln or a Cadillac.

Evergroove trivia, pt. 17

How far to the Left was early Evergreen? Here's one measurement. In 1972 the Democrats nominated George McGovern, probably the most liberal major party personality to run in my lifetime. I worked as a volunteer in the Olympia HQ. Since my hair was too long for doorbelling, they had me stuffing envelopes, licking stamps, making phone surveys. There were entire precincts in Lacey where I found more people saying they were voting for nutball American Independent Party candidate John G. Schmitz (father of Mary Kay Letourneau) than I found voting for our guy.

Most of the local Scoop Jackson Democrats sat out the campaign. We knew we didn't have a chance, but we believed if there was ever an election where it was clearly good vs. evil, this was it. And America overwhelmingly chose evil. It probably didn't help that although McGovern was a decent man, he was a terrible politician. Still, I'm glad I had the experience of being part of that campaign.

The HQ was across the street from the State Theater, which was showing Robert Redford's "The Candidate" through most of the time we were there. The week McGovern got trounced, they were showing a new movie entitled, "When Legends Die." We thought that was pretty funny, actually.

Oh, back to Evergreen. Most of my fellow volunteers were irreverent and fun-to-be around senior citizens, not connected to the College at all (in 1972, I'm sure I thought people who were over 35 were senior citizens). We did have a few key people who were TESC connected, but there was a conspicuous absence of student help. Apparently, whenever they were approached to help out, many students dismissed McGovern as just another capitalist lackey. Leave it to me to volunteer for a guy who was rejected by Olympia locals AND Evergreen.

Evergroove trivia, pt. 18

In Part 17 I talked about the 1972 election, and it got me to remembering another sideshow of that campaign season which, in hindsight, was chilling.

Dan Evans was running for his third term for Governor. His challenger was none other than the man he had defeated in 1964, former two-term Gov. Al Rosellini. When Evans made that first run, part of his campaign was that no one should serve three terms as Governor, a point Rosellini liked to bring up in 1972. But Washington being Washington, the political alliances were very twisted. It was not uncommon to see Evans and McGovern bumper stickers side by side. Although Rosellini had been a progressive governor, particularly in the area of social services, he had become quite conservative by the early 1970s. When McGovern appeared in Seattle with Washington State Democrats, Sen. Magnuson was cheered, but Rosellini and Scoop Jackson were actually booed.

Anyway, a Dan Evans campaign worker had apparently infiltrated a Rosellini meeting, or something like that, and was caught in the act. The press hyped this episode, and I'm not joking, as "The Watergate of the West." I remember the young man who was accused of wrongdoing making frantic denials to the TV news people. His hair was longish and his eyes were intense and wild. His name was Ted Bundy. If only his 15 minutes of fame had ended there. Among his many victims, according to Bundy's confession shortly before his execution, was Evergreen student Donna Manson, killed in early 1974.

Evergroove trivia, pt. 38

"Washington, a great state, built by pioneer families ..."

And here I thought, how nice. He's going to recognize live-off-the-land Territorial families like mine. People who came here in the wild and woolly days to seek a better life. Citizens who contributed to the creation of entirely new communities. Real pioneers, hardscrabble workers and farmers who sacrificed everything they had to take a risk and jump into the unknown.

"... Yes, great families, like the Boeings, the Weyerhaeusers ..."

Silly me.

Evergroove trivia, pt. 58

Shortly after that visit, Gov. Jerry Brown tried in vain to appoint Jane to some arts commission in California. The reason given for her rejection was the fact that she had toured with this pro-North Vietnam slide show. Jane protested that her presentations were not political, they were artistic.

OK. Whatever.

Evergroove trivia, pt. 100: the final installment

It is May, 1979. I'm less than a month away from graduating. While visiting with faculty member Margaret Gribskov, she asks me, "So what are you going to do after you get that degree?"

It was the first time in my entire Evergreen career anyone had ever posed that question.

Evergroove trivia, pt. 62

According to oral tradition, the TESC campus is host to a Ley Line power point. There is a pedestrian walkway between the CAB and Rec buildings. Under that walkway there is a loading dock, sort of like an artificial cave. The road that leads to this loading facility is now called "Hidden Springs Road," although I don't recall this stretch of asphalt having any name when I was a student. The entrance area to the loading dock, right before the opening to the "cave," was supposedly the power point.

Evergroove trivia, pt. 63

To be exact, he came to the TESC library and busted out a window for reasons that are unclear. In Thurston County Court he stated he was the Antichrist, his roommate was Christ (see, you can stop waiting for Him, too), and his girlfriend was the "principle of duality" between them.

The Judge and Prosecutor didn't really know what to do with this character. And we sort of lost track of what happened to him. This happened during the same week Jimmy Carter was sworn into office, and if you can find a connection I would like to hear it.

Evergroove trivia, pt. 64

The Ford Foundation was working from a short list of four names they were considering in order to replace retiring CEO McGeorge Bundy. If Evans had taken the position, he would've doubled his salary and become even more of a high-profile national figure.

In Jan. 1979, Evans asked the Foundation to have his name withdrawn from consideration. He told the Daily Olympian, "I just felt that I can't walk away from Evergreen after a year-and-a-half in this job. I wouldn't want to leave at this critical time for the school. I had a responsibility here. It might have been a different story if the offer had come a few years from now. Of course, it would be a fantastic challenge. And it's the kind of thing that probably doesn't come along often."

The CPE study was on the way, and shortly after it was released, the Weekly commented, "Obviously saving Evergreen from extinction or transformation to just another college will be a delicate operation. Too much traditionalism will cost Evergreen some present students; too little structure will bring on the legislative inquisition. In addition, Evergreen must make these changes in a time when non-traditional education is temporarily out of favor, nationally and locally. Yet numerous experts who have sized up Evergreen think it is the exceptional place among all these experiments, the one above all that should be preserved. Dan Evans obviously thinks this is true: he turned down the presidency of the Ford Foundation for fear that his going would be a signal for the sinking of the Good Ship Evergreen."

About six months later, there was serious talk about forming a new political party in Washington State, apparently using what we call "Dan Evans Republicans" as the core. And Evans' name came up as a potential candidate for Governor in the 1980 election. But, it was just talk. When U.S. Sen. Scoop Jackson left office feet first, in 1983, Evans was appointed to replace him (as powerful as Dan Evans was, there was no way he was ever going to defeat Jackson in an election). By that time it was clear TESC was going to be around for awhile.

Evergroove trivia, pt. 65

TESC could take comfort in the fact that winning 7 was actually not too bad. The Taholah kids (some of them having won state-wide competitions) had been trained by international champion Kenneth Grover.

And yes, Dr. Humphreys had his clocked cleaned at checkers by a 12-year old.

Evergroove trivia, pt. 66

Evergroove trivia, pt. 68

This was in spite of the fact that we viewed our UW instruction as patronizing and regressive. One of my fellow TESC grads led a revolt when the Graduate School decided to let go of their best teacher. The Grad School changed their mind and kept her.

But the event that really defined us as Evergreen grads was during the closure crisis. Reagan and the Republicans took over during our first year and higher education immediately started getting clobbered. Our program was on the chopping block. In other schools around the country, they were closing down grad schools in my field, so the threat of shutting down the whole works was very real. So while the other students were freaking out, the three of us from Cooper Point looked at each other, shrugged, and said, "Here we go again."

Evergroove trivia, pt. 69

Anyway, since ASH allowed pets we sometimes got to know certain animals very well without ever learning who their owners were. Aside from Jobbo and Bonobo, the pet slugs (see Evergroove trivia, pt. 28), I'd like to single out a cat and a dog that hold special places in my memory.

The cat was named Rocky. I'm not sure why we knew his name, but we did. Rocky had a habit of dashing into our apartment once the door was opened and spraying a token of his esteem on our carpet. He also jumped up on tables and counters and ate anything he could find. If two of us were coming into our place at the same time, one of us would approach the neighbor's door and fumble with the keys. And Rocky would wait, biding his time, thinking he had an easy mark. Meanwhile, the other one of us would be silently opening our actual door. Then, in a whirlwind of action, the decoy would run back and enter the genuine door, leaving Rocky stunned and surprised. Boy, was his face red! We were very proud of our ability to outsmart a cat.

Sort of pathetic, isn't it? Did I say "sort of"? It is pathetic. This is how we entertained ourselves prior to the advent of personal computers, video games, VHS cassettes, or CDs.

The dog I only met once. It was getting to be evening and the rain was cold and heavy. We were walking on an ASH pathway and crossed paths with a large woman walking a small dog. This little mutt was exceptionally ugly. Its lower jaw protruded, exposing the sharp lower teeth. It had bulging Peter Lorre eyes caked with gunk. The hind end of this thing had obviously been chewed and scratched to the point where it had open, running sores. It panted and wheezed in a loud, labored way. The little monster was all wet and skulking and regarded us with a curled lip and a high pitched growl.

And the owner of this specimen revealed its name when she barked out the the command, "Cuddles! Stop that!"

Evergroove trivia, pt. 70

Community Jubilant Over 4-year Learning Nod 8-17-66
Olympia's College-- It's In The Bag 3-8-67
Dan Evans Signs Olympia's College Into Law 3-21-67
Biologist-- Businessman-- Aeroplane Maker-- Who Will Our President Be? College Clues Drop Up As Candidates Culled 10-26-67
Olympia's Infant College : Where It's Going-- And Who Put It There 12-1-67
College Hopes : 6,000 By 1977 : But Actual Size Of Olympia's College Depends On 'Political' Money Decisions 1-19-68
Our College Gets A Colorful Name : Trustess Call Signals For Evergreen State 1-25-68
Our Three Colleges 8-1-69
From The Exotic To The Drab : How Will Our College Be Garbed? 11-21-69
Evans Will Have No Part Of Delaying Our College 2-19-71

After the College opened in the Fall of 1971, the sense of local ownership vanished from the headlines. During the 1971-72 time period, it was common to see Olympians give a sidelong glance and ask each other with a smug smile, "Been out there yet?" This would be followed by some witty observation like it was hard to tell the boys from the girls.

The fun was about to begin.

Evergroove trivia, pt. 71

We never learned Spider's real name, but we all knew him by sight. He was a thin fellow who was a runner and a regional cross-country ski champion. In the mid-1970s he was a frequent sight on campus and the Parkway as he transported himself on skis with wheels, using ski poles to propel and guide his way. It was a weird experience to have him silently and quickly glide past you from behind.

Spider was also involved in campus governance committees, but he was mostly known for the dry land skis. Although TESC did have some unofficial sports teams before 1980, you had to work hard to find them. So, by default, Spider was as close as we had to a star athlete student during Evergreen's first decade.

Spider Burbank, where are you today?

Evergroove trivia, pt. 72

"To the Editor:
BRRRAAAAKK BUK BUK BRRRAAAKKK!!!!!
Thank you,
Friends of the Coop."

The second letter was by faculty member Craig Carlson, Oct. 7. Why he wrote it isn't really important, since I think it can stand by itself without any explanation:

"To the Editor:
I never said 'Everything is everything.' What I said was, 'The only reality is the transition of one's ideas into rhythm and beautiful movements.'
Craig Carlson."

Carlson, who is unfortunately no longer with us, originally had a huge beard and long hair when he came to TESC. One day his students arrived in class and he didn't show up. As they waited, they started complaining and gossiping about Craig. It turned out he had been there the whole time. Craig had shaved his beard and cut his hair real short and no one recognized him.

Evergroove trivia, pt. 73

Except on one issue.

Fortunately, this particular negative aspect of TESC influence seems to have gone away with the 1970s. But it was quite a problem not only in downtown Olympia, but also on the College campus as well. All of us had at least one encounter with one, an experience that went beyond annoying. There is no doubt they came here because of TESC, and their impact on the College's public image has never been documented.

I am talking, of course, about street mimes. They are gone, and, in the fervent hope history does not repeat itself, not forgotten.

Evergroove trivia, pt. 74

In 1973-74 or so, the College added two entrance signs at both ends of the Parkway. They were consistent with the original design of the school-- concrete. An anonymous person, later identifying him/herself as "The Mad Painter," added color and design to the sign. Jerry had it cleaned off. The Mad Painter returned. Jerry had it cleaned off again. After the third enhancement by the Mad Painter, the College started making legal threats since the cost of cleaning the signs was starting to strain the sign-cleaning budget.

The Mad Painter sought a pardon through a third party, and a meeting was arranged. As a result of these negotiations, a contest was held for the design of a new sign. In short order the concrete version was replaced with a new wooden sign. The identity of the Mad Painter remained a mystery.

Years later, long after Jerry left Evergreen, an artist decided to enhance the freeway overpass that connects Evergreen to Highway 101. The design and color was much like that of the Mad Painter. But unlike the previous case, this artist was caught red-handed and the State of Washington was not as forgiving as Jerry Schillinger.

Evergroove trivia, pt. 75

Two anonymous signs popped up along the Parkway. Both of them, at first glance, had an official look about them. The now-dead ex-lupine spot had a long sign that read, "Where Have All the Lupine Gone?" and elsewhere we saw, "The Evergreen Corps of Engineers Schillinger Memorial Ditch."

Every now and then I'll hear an Evergreen oldtimer proclaim, "Save the lupine!" Not quite as esoteric as "All hail Jobbo Bonobo!" but it does serve as sort of a code for being on a particular campus at a particular point in time.

Evergroove trivia, pt. 76

There were two very different types of students in this group. First, there were the future attorneys. Serious-minded students who knew exactly where they were going and had their grad schools picked out. And secondly, there were the rest of us-- drifting humanities-liberal arts-look-out-the-window daydreamers. I have mentioned I was not the world's greatest student, haven't I?

Here's how I was able to identify who was who among my fellow pupils. We attended a guest lecture by faculty member Alan Nasser. I think the topic was "logical thinking" or something like that. Anyway, he opened up the talk with the statement, "By the time I am through with you, your minds will become steel traps!"

And all the drifting humanities-liberal arts-look-out-the-window daydreamers slapped their palms on the tops of their craniums and in unison yelled out, "Noooooooooooo!!!"

Evergroove trivia, pt. 77

The Library had study desk modules grouped into quarters. If viewed from above, the top of the panel separators formed the shape of a swastika. We found this to be a bit unsettling. Click here for a larger image.

Evergroove trivia, pt. 78

There was a huge, old-fashioned animation stand buried deep in the maze of the Library building. I was able to sign up on the roster and use it nearly any time I wanted. In 1975 I had taken an internship with the regional educational television station in Tacoma. My aim was to produce a three minute piece. But there were two big problems.

The first little complication was the fact that I could find no one to really spend time and teach me how the animation stand worked. Believe me, I tried. My faculty sponsor really knew nothing about animation or cartooning, he was an anthropologist! The keeper of the stand basically threw open the door for me and said, "Have at it, kid." So I taught myself how to use the contraption. My short film was an animation of the song "Surrey With The Fringe On Top," set for an elementary school audience. To this day, I can't hear that song without thinking about this episode.

The second problem was that even though the television station wanted a three minute segment, they had, as I discovered only after I completed shooting, supplied me with less than two minutes of film. That meant that almost half of my labor was spent on what could be charitably called "conceptual art." But I still had time to be resourceful and complete not one but two finished short films by the end of the quarter. And I did it without using the animation stand.

Inspired by the innovative Canadian animator Norman McLaren, I ran some leader film through a projector. This discolored the white film enough for me to identify where the frames were located. Then I painstakingly drew, with a fine point India ink pen, on each frame. At 32 frames per second, it took awhile, but the result was sort of a shimmering effect that I really liked. I can't remember what I entitled this thing, but it was finished in time for the College film festival. I think I gave this little project to a roommate, and if it is still around today it must be very brittle and unwatchable.

The second project was really fun. While in the editing room, I noticed the trash was filled with discarded snippets of film from other students. I liberated this Celluloid from a landfill fate and spliced them all together into an hour long Dadaistic motion picture version of "found art." I recall there was footage of model boats being tested in the TESC swimming pool, a guy puking in a rehab clinic, and parts of a commercial trailer for some B movie. This epic was shown a half dozen times or so to a select audience of beer swilling students, and the splices were so numerous that the film broke at least three or four times in every showing.

I never went back to animation after that, and I stayed with the tried and true black and white line drawing on paper. There was another cartoonist I knew at TESC who shared my view of animation. Our styles were both simple and we liked getting a lot of ideas out in a short time. Animation required the cartoonist to spend weeks of painful and tedious detail work on just one or two ideas. We agreed this was not the most enjoyable way to draw. That other cartoonist, who I consider one of the sharpest and funniest minds in the business, is named Matt Groening.

Evergroove trivia, pt. 79

On the edge of the development I heard some sort of weird ruckus and followed the noise. In a small valley there was a chunk of land that was still serving its original rural function. The realtors had yet to gobble up this place. It was a poultry farm.

I'd say there were about 50 little A-frame coops all in a nice neat grid. On top of each coop was a rooster. And each rooster was crowing, trying to outdo the others. Imagine what 50 roosters all crowing at once, not listening to each other, sounds like. Every one them master of his little territory. It was a caiman's dream come true.

I thought of the Washington State Legislature, I thought of those shouting matches on political talk shows, and, sadly, I thought of Evergreen in the late 1970s and early 1980s.

When the external threats of closure subsided, and when the experimental edge had been considerably dulled, Evergreen began to enjoy a nationwide academic respectability. Part of this was due to having a true political maestro at the helm to market the product, but another part of it was due to the fact the College really deserved it. By and large the experiment was a success. But there was a flip side.

The early years of threatened extinction had created an espirit de corps in the TESC community. That was gone by the late 1970s, and when the 1980s rolled around the College was experiencing severe growing pains in attempting to define itself. By the mid-1980s the campus mood was downright ugly. Some of this was probably due to the inevitable evolutionary stages of any institution.

Today the College seems settled. Too settled. It might be time to bring in a caiman or two.

Evergroove trivia, pt. 80

An Evergreen coordinated studies called Man and Art supplied the labor. The idea came from faculty member Jose Arguelles. The end result was an amazing winding mural that effectively combatted TESC's 70's concrete blahness. But instead of Evergreen being in the belly of the beast, the beasts were in the belly of Evergreen. Whenever I showed newcomers around the College, I always made sure they saw this artwork.

Even though I knew they were there, I usually reacted as if they were unexpected when I used those stairs. And I saw something new every time.

Arguelles went on to become a controversial New Age author and co-founder, with his wife Lloydine, of the Planet Art Network. I understand the dragons have since vanished, but I'm not sure if that is true and if so, when it happened. Did they fly away, or were they just painted over? I like to think the former is more likely than the mundane explanation of the latter.

Evergroove trivia, pt. 85

During my very last quarter at Evergreen, I attended an evening class on classical expository writing from the very European and stern Niels Skov. A great experience. I wish I had taken his course during my first quarter, but at least I got in under the wire.

Evergroove trivia, pt. 86

For a college now famous for producing so many cartoonists, it sure was hard finding anyone who could act as a faculty sponsor in the 1970s. For my own part, all of my cartooning instructors were English teachers. I never took a course at TESC in graphic art technique. (Some would say, "Yeah, and it shows!") Teachers like Thad Curtz, Josie Reed, Margaret Gribskov, and Peter Elbow taught me about cartooning through the written word, not the drawn line.

This was before the days of affordable photocopying with the ability to reduce and enlarge images on your own. But as a student, I had access to the campus print shop and was able to produce three comix from 1976-1978 as part of my academic work. The second book, An Untitled Portfolio, (pictured here) was produced with the teaching/editing of Thad Curtz. Charles Schulz once said something to the effect that cartooning was a "sort of" art. You had to be sort of good at writing, and sort of good at drawing. Not great, just sort of good. The trick was blending the two together. Thad knew this and sent me in some great directions. A couple years later, Seattle cartoonist Ray Collins told me, confirming Thad's view, that the best way to learn cartooning is to study poetry.

I did have one informal class in art while a student at Evergroove, probably about 1975. I went to the home of a fellow student where his eccentric father had boxes of art clippings throughout the house. When he learned I was a cartoonist he launched into a long (and boozy) lecture on the place of the cartoon in American culture. A modern painter, he said, could use abstraction in a work and hang it in a gallery and the normal Joe on the street would reject it. But the same principles of abstraction, like the squiggle for Charlie Brown's hair, or Nancy's dot eyes, or that incredibly disturbing > symbol for Fred Flintstone's ear, are accepted as, well, normal by normal Joe. As long as cartoons were on the low end of the art chain-of-being, they would maintain their power. But once a cartoonist starts running with the gallery crowd, they might as well crawl in the grave and cover themselves up.

He was funny. He was engaging. He was wearing a t-shirt with ketchup stains on it. It was the best lecture on art I had ever heard. I learned he died shortly after my visit. And you know, I never got his name!

Evergroove trivia, pt. 87

--Picasso was a bald fraud. He drew merely for money. There is a story that Pablo visited a collector who was very proud of his Picasso painting. The Great Man viewed it and said it was a fake. The collector was beside himself with fury. "You mean I paid all that money for a counterfeit?!" "Oh, I painted it alright," Picasso supposedly said, "But I produced just for the cash. It's a fake."

--Bob Dylan was the musical equivalent of Picasso. He had just converted as a Jew for Jesus at this time, which freaked out the class anyway.

--Emma Goldman, as her autobiography proves, was highly dependent on men for her self-esteem.

--Carl Jung had a highly questionable relationship with the Nazis.

--And so on.

Yes, you guessed it. Statements like these elicited the predicted response. Rage. The faculty knew full well what we were doing, but I think she egged us on anyway. But at least no one got hit (see Evergroove Trivia pt. 35)

Evergroove trivia, pt. 88

Yard Birds/Sea Mart filled three city blocks in the area between the present Farmer's Market and the Phoenix Inn. It consisted of two buildings (connected by a staff-only sky bridge over Capitol Way) and an enormous parking lot. On more than one occasion it had been said in Evergroove circles that Hell was probably being condemned to sit on a sheet of tinfoil in the Sea Mart parking lot on a hot August day.

The outside of the buildings were adorned with huge cartoon murals of pirates, deep sea divers, and ocean creatures. They also had the Yard Birds mascot, an oversize statue of a cartoon black crow with a yellow beak and gloves. Sometimes this statue would find itself in odd places, like the roof of the Olympia High School administration building.

The Sea Mart building on the east, as I recall, was the grocery end of things. The Yard Birds side on the west was sort of a home improvement/Army surplus blend. It smelled like canvas and popcorn, evoking the circus it really was. They also had a restaurant with a maritime motif and giant crabs displayed on the walls.

Just to add a little twist, next to Yard Birds was Harvey's Pet Store. This place was an overcrowded, smelly cacophony of an animal prison. I don't think Harvey sold any caimans, but he did have a lot of exotic pets for sale. If it hadn't burned down, I'm sure Harvey's would've been a big target for animal rights activists in later years.

The building that became Sea Mart had originally been some sort of packing plant, maybe for fish. When Sea Mart first opened they had a promotional indoor carnival. I have this memory that reaches 'way back to 1959 or 1960 where my Dad and I are going to the Sea Mart building at night and inside are neon lit rides for little kids. Far from being the delightful treat it was meant to be, it made my hair stand up on end (Well, since I had a crew cut, the mandatory haircut of the era, my hair was up on end anyway, but you know what I mean). It was like a scene out of Carnival of Souls.

And that weird feeling never went away. I still get it just by driving by the area where the store used to be.

Evergroove trivia, pt. 89

There was an open mike night in the CAB in the late 1970s, and for some reason this guy was the one who really made the biggest impression on me. He had a guitar and played only one note with a teeth-jarring BLANG! I even used him as the basis for a character in Bezango WA 985 (see Evergroove trivia, pt. 39), and here is how I recorded his lyrics and playing:

"Duh-pressionnnnnn"

(Pause)

BLANG!

"Ree-jectionnnnn"

(Pause)

BLANG!

"Frrus-trationnnnn"

(Pause)

BLANG!

"Dee-jectionnnnn"

(Pause)

BLANG!

"Aaaalien-ationnnnn"

(Pause)

BLANG!

---

I wanted to jump up and cheerfully shout, "Hey, everybody join in!"

Evergroove trivia, pt. 90

But, as it turned out, the real future, which is now the past, was ten times more horrifying.

Evergroove trivia, pt. 91

The photo on the top of the stack included an image of one of the 100+ people who had been my roommates as I moved every six months during the 1970s-early 80s. This particular person was another follower of Jobbo Bonobo. He had a habit of declaring "EX-cellent!" when something pleased him, and he liked to laugh.

He also liked to ski. One night he got real drunk, went to our freezer, emptied all the ice cubes on the floor, donned his skiis, got out the ski poles, and attempted to demonstrate some cross-country technique by having ice cubes serve as substitute snow. Spider Burbank would've been horrified.

And that memory came with just the first photo. I was able to identify scores of people in there. As you might have guessed, I have mixed feelings about being an Evergreen grad, as more time passes the less connected I feel to the College. Going through those photographs was a wonderful jump-start in these middle-aged brain cells about why I was attracted to the Evergroove program in the first place. Also a great way to wake up forgotten memories about people and places that are gone. If you are a fellow grad of the TESC prehistoric era, take an afternoon off, call Randy, and help us match names with the faces in the Evergreen family album.

"EX-cellent!"

Evergroove trivia, pt. 92

Yeah, I know, very strange. Keep in mind this is the same character who earlier in the academic year had performed the "Easter Pimp" trick (see Evergroove Trivia pt. 45).

I will admit I'm a bit of a fatalist. I do not believe anything happens by accident or coincidence. And I'm just superstitious enough to pay more attention to a stunt like this than it deserves. Maybe the fact I can remember this after over three decades was due to the primeval and mystical setting of virgin timber. Or maybe I'm just a dork. OK, we all know the answer to that one, so let's just move on.

A long time passed before any vehicles showed up. When they did, two cars approached from opposite directions, and they hit the stick at exactly the same moment!!!! Weird with a beard, man. This was the kind of stuff Evergreeners liked to eat with a spoon.

So, as far as I know, the Easter Pimp is still alive and well. But I'll tell you one thing, I'm never getting in the same car, plane, elevator, train, etc. with him.

Evergroove trivia, pt. 94

Flagler is riddled with concrete gun batteries, bunkers, and observation boxes. During one evening at a retreat, I went into one of the observation boxes to enjoy the pleasure of smoking a fine cigar. Well, a cheap cigar. Some of my habits, like drinking black coffee, eating meat, making lame puns, and especially smoking cigars offended many of my classmates.

But then, as now, smoking a cigar is my way of meditating. You can't really do much else when you start burning one of those babies. So I'm looking out at a panoramic view of the Sound when my solitude is broken by some guy who obviously has lost the sense of smell. "Dude," he greeted me, "Can I have a drag?"

I suspect he thought I had something else, but I let him take a nice deep lung-full anyway. His response reminded me it is best not to inhale those things.

Evergroove trivia, pt. 95

Early October, 1974. The school year was just starting. The "Encountering America" coordinated studies program went into a retreat somewhere at a lake up in Mason County.

One of the faculty members, Dumi Maraire, prepared dinner for us. Dumi was a native of Rhodesia (now Zimbabwe, where Dumi returned and died in 1999) and had a short and controversial career at Evergreen. He brought in a live goat and slaughtered it before the assembled students. Then we cooked and ate it. I think even some of the vegetarians took part, since it was almost an insult not to. Actually, it was pretty good.

While I was helping unload the car of another faculty member who was bringing in supplies from the outside world, I saw the headlines of a newspaper she had just picked up. Back at TESC, an Evergreen student named Vicki Schneider had fallen, jumped, or was pushed off a top floor of A Dorm and landed on the pavement next to the circle. Right under my window. Matt Groening's room was next door.

When I got back to TESC I learned all my roommates had been first on the scene. The death was ruled suicide.

It was going to be a very weird quarter.

Evergroove trivia, pt. 96

Although Evergreen is now known for being a hotbed of cartoonists, it wasn't always that way. TESC is a college with a curriculum chiefly based on collaboration and cooperation, seminars and group work. Cartoonists by nature are solitary beings, geeky basement apartment dwellers who must stand apart from the crowd in order to observe and record.

The CPJ didn't really have any regularly appearing comic strips until Kathleen Meighan, under the pen-name "Katy Did," produced Da Boidz 1975-76. The first real page devoted to comix appeared in Oct. 1975, but it wasn't until Matt Groening became editor a couple years later the comix feature started being consistent.

More on the flip...

It is curious to note that many of the Evergreen cartoonists, myself included, have gone on record stating that if it wasn't for Evergreen we probably never would've gone to college. Also, the most famous of the cartoonists attended at a time when the College was still very experimental, before many of the parts of the school that attracted us were watered down by the CPE in 1979.

For you comic bibliographers, here is a list of the cartoonists and illustrators for The Paper and The Cooper Point Journal and when their work appeared 1972-1979:

Dianne Senn 1972
Solo 1972
Pete Wilson 1972
Dan Youra 1972
Mary Coyle 1973
Tommy Lenon 1973-1974
Sandy Mae 1973
Paul Murphy 1973-1974
Jody Sandford 1973
Matt Groening 1974-1978
Trey Imfeld 1974
Lynn Robb 1974
Sandy Baugher 1975
Boo Dinnison 1975
Flicky Ford 1975-1977
Kathleen Meighan 1975-1976
Dan Owens 1975-1976
Lynda Barry 1976-1977
Charles Burns 1976-1977
Jim Chupa 1976-1979
J.M. Ferron 1976
Hansen 1976
Steve Willis 1976-1979
Joan Maneri 1977
Dana Leigh Squires 1977-1978
Gareth Bolt 1978
Patrick Carr 1978
Chez 1978
Rob Fromm 1978
Dave Williams 1978
M.L. Hunting 1979
Randy Hunting 1979
Kathy Knutson 1979
Eric Martin 1979
CDR 1979
JER 1979
Maggie Resch 1979
T.J. Simpson 1979

Some of these names are familiar, others faded away. During his enrollment, probably the most widely read and popular cartoonist on campus was Jim Chupa. Borrowing the graphic style of Robert Crumb, Chupa had a real gift for poking fun at campus politics, frequently using slugs as his characters for commentary. Charles Burns' cartoons generated the most controversy in the 1970s, but by the later quarter of the decade it wasn't hard to offend people as the campus grew more polarized.

In 1981 a comic entitled Tales From The Steam Tunnels featuring CPJ reprints and some new work (including Olympia artist Tucker Petertil and future animator Craig Bartlett) was released. It was the first real recognition that the 1970s had produced something special in the world of comix. By the mid-1980s, as TESC cartoonists started making their mark in the outside world, cartoon editors across the country were using the term "Evergreen Mafia" to describe the group. A copy of Tales From The Steam Tunnels sold on eBay in May 2004 for over 127 bucks!

To this day I enjoy having the talent of looking like I'm paying attention and taking studious notes at some meeting when in fact I'm drawing a picture of a guy with a frog growing out of his head, or something along those lines.

Evergroove trivia, pt. 97

In this installment I'll focus on Richards.

No, I didn't know him.

The end.

Evergroove trivia, pt. 98

Bits of memory quilted together regarding Lynda Barry:

--We met in fall quarter 1974. Lynda's original goal was to be an art teacher.

--Once, when walking from the dorms to main campus, she spied a dadaist approaching us. Lynda grabbed me and forced us to hide behind a corner. "That man hates everything beautiful about art!" she spat.

--She had some sort of weird power over Matt Groening when he was CPJ editor. Once I witnessed her making a grand entrance into the paper's office and ordering Matt, "I want my picture on the cover of this issue!" And by God, he did it. I swear her photo was in every other issue of that era.

More on the flip...

--Lynda was a natural born multi-talented artist-writer-performer. Spending ten minutes with her was energizing, but beyond that I found myself needing to escape or I would be drained. The only other student I knew who could compete with her for sheer internal energy and fire was Steve Charak.

--For a brief time Lynda wanted to be known as "Plex," short for plexiglass. She used that material a lot when she was the student coordinator for the art gallery in the library. After left-wing art terrorists swiped some art pieces they deemed politically inappropriate (another sign that Evergreen's libertarian climate was eroding as the 70s marched on), Lynda started staying in the gallery to guard the work. She was not happy about it.

--She has a ridge along the top of her cranium, which is why, she claimed, she lived on Phinney Ridge in Seattle for awhile.

--While carrying a real human skeleton across Red Square, Lynda lost her hold and the thing fell and all those brittle white bones shattered across the red brick.

--For awhile she lived in an apartment near the Olympia Library. She called that area "Dogtown."

--She did not get into cartooning until after she had been at TESC a couple years. I believe Matt had something to do with encouraging her to see the comix genre was an excellent outlet for her considerable talent.

--She enjoyed the Old Olympia scene and was particularly taken with the Spar.

--She told me she considered every art piece of hers to be one of her children.

--I saw Lynda a couple times after TESC. She attended a gallery opening in Seattle for another artist. As she went from art piece to art piece, the crowd hung on her opinion. It was amazing. I last saw her around 1985 when she presented a lecture at the WSU Art Department to an enthusiastic crowd. She was a natural born lecturer and in a way had become the art teacher she had always wanted to be.

--On more than one occasion we had long midnight talks about commercializing our art. I always had major reservations but Lynda was not shy about being ambitious. "You gotta hustle, man, hustle!"

And she walked her talk. Hey Lynda, if you're out there, call me sometime.

Evergroove trivia, pt. 99

I'm sure I'm not the only 1970s TESC grad to be asked this question over and over: "Did you know Matt Groaning?" No. But I knew a great guy named Matt Groening (rhymes with "raining"). Here is my collage of Matt memories ...

--He was one of the very first people I met at TESC after I enrolled. We were neighbors in A Dorm. Before I met him, I noticed the stairway walls were covered with variations on the "happy face" icon (e.g. Thalidomide Happy Face) and I soon discovered the author of this grafitti was Matt. Right away we established that we were both life-long cartoonists with many of the same influences. However, he had one up on me. He was the son of a cartoonist, named Homer Groening.

More on the flip...

--Matt loved Frank Zappa, had a thing about the name "Joe Bemis," and the DC Comics character "Bizarro Perry White."

--He was ambitious without being pushy. I think Matt wanted to be a writer more than anything. He could frequently be found devouring periodicals in the Library.

--As editor of the CPJ, Matt asked his writers to go easy on using swear words because he didn't want to upset the sensibilities of Billie, the nice middle-aged matron who was the typesetter.

--I worked on the CPJ staff as a production manager and cartoon contributor during Matt's tenure. I remember the custodians talking about catching Matt asleep on the office couch when they opened up in the morning. He had been working on the paper all night.

--Matt wanted to establish a regular comix page for the paper, and when he asked me to join up he said he wanted to rattle the faculty and the administration. But what happened was this-- his humor was so sophisticated, the very people he was trying to bug loved his work. But the students became irate! "I didn't mean for it to turn out like this!" Matt lamented with his head in his hands. It was my first real lesson in the intolerance of political correctness.

--There was a cartoonist at the CPJ named Charles Burns. I don't know if his middle name is Montgomery.

--Matt graduated a couple years ahead of me but stayed in touch for awhile by sending copies of this great little photocopied book called Life In Hell from his new home in Los Angeles.

--Even though I was an aimless backwoods kid among a group of directed urban sophisticates, Matt never made me feel like I didn't belong. Cartoonists, as a rule, are very self-absorbed, but Matt is a rare exception. In terms of helping his staff grow, Matt was a really great editor.

--One of my favorite memories of Matt was spending time just sitting and experimenting together with the subtle nuances of drawing eyebrows on cartoon characters to get certain effects. There were not many people at TESC I could talk with about that kind of thing.

--Matt was CPJ editor during an exciting time, when Dan Evans was selected as Charles McCann's replacement. The CPJ offices was the place to be when it came to sorting the gossip from the news. Or combining them. I think we all expected Matt to become a great journalist.

--Matt, if you're out there you can call me too.

Evergroove trivia, pt. 22

Evergroove trivia, pt. 33

"I don't know about this place," he squirmed, "I might get ideas."

I told him to relax. By the mid-1980s I was convinced TESC had watered down their entire school to the point where it was pretty much like any other college, and I told him so. The electricity and wonderful eccentricity of the 1970s was over, I said. Evergreen was now safe and bland. There was little danger of "getting ideas."

Just then, as if on cue, someone walked by in a giant condom costume.

That's what I get for generalizing.

Evergroove trivia, pt. 41

During the most serious closure threat (1977), several alternate uses for the TESC facilities were discussed, including converting the campus to State offices or a police academy. Sen. Hubert Donohue (D-Dayton) and Sen. "Slim" Rasmussen (D-Tacoma) co-sponsored a bill to make the campus an extension of the University of Washington. The Evans-McCann transfer of power was the spark that set the idea in motion. Of Rasmussen, the Seattle Times said, his "blood pressure rises at just the mention of Evans' name." Two other big name sponsors included Sen. August Mardesich (D-Everett) and Sen. Sam Guess (R-Spokane).

Several topics came up during the debate over Evergreen. TESC was more expensive to run than the other schools, costing more per student. Enrollment was declining. The incredibly low rate of in-state students as compared to other schools was brought up, since Evergreen's original mission was two-fold: to offer an alternative type education, and, here's the sticky part, to serve Southwest Washington.

Here's my personal observation. I graduated from an enormous near-the-peak-of-the-Baby-Boom class in Olympia High School (there was no Capital High School in those days). When I went to Evergreen, I think my high school might have had more students than the College. Out of several hundred OHS grads, only about 10 of us, at most, went to TESC. Out of that small group, only two of us that I am aware of were true products of the Olympia School system, the others were children of Evergreen staff-- meaning they were new to town at that time. The other guy who was a fellow native put in one year then transferred to the UW. So the school got a lot of mileage out me. Many locals who later attended the College told me recruiters used my name (as if I was some sort of somebody, which I wasn't) as proof they were indeed serving SW Washington.

Obviously, the College survived this closure attempt. But the political events of the 1976-77 school year created a crisis that made the new Evans administration begin the process to tighten the reins on some of the charmingly eccentric qualities of Evergroove and make the school more palatable to the powers that be. And, no matter what you might think of this, you have to admit he succeeded with flying colors.

Evergroove trivia, pt. 55

Many of the best lessons during our student years took place when we were not enrolled in school. Tuition was so inexpensive in the 1970s that we could quit school and work some low wage job for awhile and then re-enroll and coast for a bit. That all came to an end when Reagan and his party took control in 1981 and tuition doubled overnight. I had a taste of that bite during my final year in grad school, 1981-82. But, as usual, I digress.

At some point in 1976 I was out of school and working at yet another low-level minimum wage job. The great part about jobs like that was in the event the feeling of telling your boss to go to Hell crosses your mind, you can actually do it, and then find another job the next day. Which is basically what happened to me, except a monkey wrench got thrown into the deal.

I actually had a car for a few months that year. A 1962 Ford Ranchwagon, three on the tree gear shift and enough room in back to play basketball. So, being newly unemployed, I drove home to Hunter's Point. I was subleasing a one-room cabin that sat next to a mobile home for the princely sum of 25 bucks a month or something like that. My room-mates were two young women (both were TESC students) who lived in the trailer and I had use of the kitchen and bathroom. One of my roomies had a very protective boyfriend who liked to play with his pop-out stiletto whenever he talked to me. Fun.

Anyway, I drove home to find all my possessions (which could fill maybe 3 suitcases) piled up outside in the light drizzle. Why? "Remember that itching you have been complaining about the last few days?" the woman with the boyfriend asked, "Well, we have it too. The doctor told us you gave us scabies which really grosses me out."

Scabies, otherwise known as the "itch-mite," is an easily transmitted pest that burrows under your skin and itches so bad you can't sleep. I think I picked it up during one of my hitchhiking trips down to Southern California the previous month. Scabies are so contagious that if a carrier sat in a chair, and you sat in the same chair a minute after they left, you could get them too. I suspect Mr. Stiletto didn't understand that, and his suspicious mind had more to do with my eviction than the little mites.

So, for about a month I lived in my car, driving around Olympia scratching like crazy and looking for work. One day I drove over the railroad tracks next to the Olympia Dog Pound (on the Port peninsula) and heard a grinding thud followed by the sound of metal scraping on pavement. My radiator had fallen off. And with an audience of wildly barking doomed dogs, I circled the car and kicked and dented the body every few feet with my heavy hiking boots, swearing and scatching at the same time. Not what I consider a real high point in my life. I would wait seven years before purchasing another car.

Here's how I got rid of the scabies. My girlfriend lived in a student house down on French Loop Road. Everyone in that house was very good to me. They drew the hottest bath I have ever been in, before or since. The doors were held open for me as I ran into the house, quickly got out of my clothes, and jumped in the tub. For good measure I poured in some Purex or Chlorox or some toxic bleach like that. And hey, it worked. I killed the scabies. But I had little white spots on my arms for some time.

And here's something I learned. There is word called "scabiophobia," meaning: fear of scabies. It was a condition I got to witness firsthand by many in my circle of friends that month.

Evergroove trivia, pt. 51

Evergreen had retreats for the students and faculty on a regular basis. Sometimes they were at the very start of a quarter, so everyone could get to know each other. Sometimes they were held at the end, so we could all summarize what we had learned. They were usually conducted at youth camps in various Western Washington locations. In September 1978, the "Shakespeare and the Age of Elizabeth" program held their retreat at a YWCA Camp at Spirit Lake, at the base of Mt. St. Helens.

We had not the slightest iota of a clue when we boarded boats at Harry Truman's lodge that Harry and his building would be buried under tons of rock and ash in just over a year and a half later. We didn't know that the beautiful mountain we could see completely reflected in the lake would be the site of the most destructive natural event in Washington in our lifetimes (so far).

A group of students were sitting in the YWCA lodge, when a tall, sincere young man dramatically entered the room and announced with complete seriousness, "I just made love to myself at the top of the ridge." Another student, the same guy who leaped over several rows of seats in Evergroove trivia pt. 35, happened to be drinking a beer at that very moment, which he spewed all over the floor and followed with a loud guffaw.

It was going to be a weird year.

Evergroove trivia, pt. 52

When the 1978-79 school year began, TESC was having severe image problems. What had been an exciting and daring experiment in the first half of the 1970s, had, by the Age of Disco, become a relic of the past. Several years of negative headlines had accumulated and solidified into painting the College as a tax-wasting Hippy school, giving President Evans one of the greatest marketing challenges of his career.

Critics of the school had a long list of complaints. The McCann-Evans transfer of power, which nearly resulted in the closure of the College, was still fresh in the minds of legislators. Enrollment was falling. Evergreen cost more per student than the other State institutions of higher learning. The BA in Liberal Arts, the only degree TESC offered at the time, was proving to be a problem for those who spent four years studying nothing but the sciences when they applied to graduate school. The Department of Fisheries announced they could not hire Evergreen grads unless they had a BS. The Veterans Administration had a problem with the structure of the College and refused to pay benefits unless the vets were in a traditional program. That one was going into court. "Dan the Man's Retirement Plan" had evolved into "The Evergrowing State Crisis."

Something had to be done. And it would. But what would be the price for survival?

Evergroove trivia, pt. 53

Year From Hell, A Document:

The Council for Postsecondary Education had been charged by the Washington State Legislature to begin a study of The Evergreen State College in 1977. In Feb. 1979 they published the final version of The Evergreen Study : Report and Recommendations on The Evergreen State College.

An observation from the Report, "Current studies of nontraditional education in the United States conclude that the pendulum appears to be swinging from self-directed programs to programs with greater structure and career preparation relevance ... One of the ironies encountered as the Evergreen program is examined is that the College's efforts appear to be highly effective, but those efforts, for any of a variety of reasons, seem to be appealing to decreasing numbers of students ... The comment of one observer is appropriate here. 'I have an image of an efficient and potentially seaworthy vessel slowly capsizing for lack of ballast. I also feel uneasiness over the possibility the crew of the vessel is unwilling to consider re-configuring the ship to take on a different, perhaps more conventional cargo, because that would threaten its original crew moving over the hull as the ship rolls over, saluting the wake as it slowly slips beneath the surface.' [The speaker requested anonymity]. This analogy, while appealing, is probably inexact. Some might also argue that the problem is not so much one of ballast and re-configuration as a need to constantly zig-zag to avoid torpedoes ..."

The Report went on to make specific recommendations:

Recommendation 1: It is recommended that the 1979-81 and 1981-83 bienna be dedicated to an opportunity for The Evergreen State College, through an institution-wide effort, to increase its enrollment level and reduce its unit costs by making adjustments in its educational concept and attracting students. Target enrollments of 2500-2600 FTE students by 1980-81 and 3050-3350 FTE students by 1982-83 are suggested. It is also recommended that during this period the College continue to be funded at Instruction, Student Services, and other enrollment-driven Physical Plant formula levels comparable to those applied to its sister institutions. Other support program expenses should be maintained at current expenditure levels, adjusted only for inflation. It is further recommended that during this period Evergreen prepare and present annual progress reports to the Council for Postsecondary Education each November, and that the Council convey these reports with its comments to the Legislature and Governor not later than the following January.

Recommendation 2: It is recommended that Evergreen seek ways of reducing the costs associated with its support programs. Inter-organizational resource sharing arrangements and continued review of its administrative overhead and support program priorities within a context of zero "real dollar" growth should be seriously considered and undertaken.

Recommendation 3: Support for the establishment of master's level studies at Evergreen is reaffirmed. However, it is recommended that in developing its graduate studies program, Evergreen pay particular attention to the educational needs of persons associated with state government in Olympia, especially their needs for the types of certification that specific degree programs provide, and that the institution adopt curricular structure for its graduate programs consistent with forms recognized and accepted in the revelant professions.

Recommendation 4: Evergreen and the Department of Personnel, along with other appropriate governmental authorities, should be encouraged to continue their study of the feasibility of transferring the interagency training function to the College. If these efforts conclude that such a transfer is feasible, it is further recommended that the transfer occur.

Recommendation 5: It is recommended that Evergreen, in conjunction with its graduate studies efforts develop and offer evening credit-bearing courses especially related to the educational needs of professionals working in the Olympia area. Such courses should also be open to on-campus students.

Recommendation 6: It is recommended to the Board of Trustees at Evergreen that it consider expanding the College's degree-awarding range to encompass the Bachelor of Science degree.

Recommendation 7: It is recommended that Evergreen study the feasibility of an inter-institutional agreement with one or more institutions in its service region for the conjoint provision of programs in teacher education on campus.

Recommendation 8: It is recommended to the Board of Trustees at Evergreen that career pathways in the College's curriculum be clearly identified and that student and employer needs for additional pathways be identified and the curriculum augmented accordingly. In considering this question, the Board is encouraged to take into account the certification requirements that accompany job offerings in the various career fields, requirements that must be met before graduates will be considered eligible.

Recommendation 9: It is recommended to the Board of Trustees that ways be sought within the College to institute greater structure and predictability in the curriculum, including the offering of course options in the day program. It is also recommended that consideration be given to additional requirements for an Evergreen degree. Requirements that would ensure student participation in a variety of study forms and a demonstration of educational growth by the senior year are also recommended for consideration by the Board.

Recommendation 10: It is recommended that Evergreen reconsider the need for its supplementary application form as part of a larger review of its student admissions program. In doing so it should consider other means for determining whether students possess basic skills, including the announcement that it will test new students for possible placement in basic skills courses. Evergreen should make all possible attempts to accept all applicants meeting stated entrance requirements.

Recommendation 11: It is recommended to the Board of Trustees at Evergreen that consideration be extended to the provision of first-year requirements for entering students in the form of basic coordinated studies programs and courses directed to preparation in the basic skills areas and in the Humanities, and the Natural and Social Sciences, and to facilitating the transition of students into the institution's programs.

Recommendation 12: It is recommended to the Board of Trustees that it reexamine the procedures by which students are awarded internships or authorized to pursue independent study, so that procedures exist to assure that students are ready to undertake such modes and that the faculty assigned as sponsors are qualified for the role.

Recommendation 13: It is recommended to the Board of Trustees at Evergreen that the College reexamine the evaluation system with a goal to retaining it for internal use, while simplifying the student transcripts so that they may be more readily reviewed and comprehended by persons not associated with the College.

Recommendation 14: It is recommended that Evergreen reexamine its student advising program with the goal of developing an advising and career counseling system that supports all students' efforts to identify courses and programs which can fulfill their personal and professional objectives at the College.

Recommendation 15: It is recommended that Evergreen mount an extraordinary and sustained effort to inform students, counselors and others in the high schools of its program and to seek to counteract the negative perceptions of the College held by many of these persons.

Recommendation 16: It is recommended that Evergreen make a sustained effort to meet the needs of students in the community colleges of western and southwestern Washington and to communicate to those students what it offers. Like the other effort, it should be an institution-wide endeavor, involving Evergreen students meeting with community college students, and Evergreen faculty consulting with the faculty of those institutions on the Evergreen programs and ways in which the various institutional efforts can be coordinated.

Recommendation 17: It is recommended that Evergreen study the desirability and feasibility of engaging in a limited range of intercollegiate athletics as one means of expanding its appeal to graduating high school seniors and enhancing its relations with the Olympia community.

Recommendation 18: It is recommended that Evergreen consider ways in which it can address the expressed concerns of students at the College for places and events on campus for purposes of socializing. This appears to be an especially pressing need as a means of release for students from the pressures of the College's educational program.

Recommendation 19: New program areas at Evergreen should be reviewed externally as is the case with new program review procedures at other public institutions. New program areas at Evergreen should accord with review procedures in the Council's new degree guidelines. As part of this review process, proposals for new program areas at that institution will first be circulated among the other public four-year institutions for the review and comment of qualified reviewers.

Recommendation 20: It is recommended that Evergreen study the possibility of offering off-campus programs to serve residents in the Longview, Aberdeen/Hoquiam, and Port Angeles areas, and , upon determination of the need and feasibility of such endeavors, that it proceed to develop and offer off-campus programs in these cities in accord with the procedures in the Council's guidelines for off-campus programs.

Evergroove trivia, pt. 54

An interlude in the Year From Hell:

So I'm waiting in line in the Seattle Greyhound station. In those starving student days I was lucky enough to get by without a car most of the time. By 1979 I had figured out I was mortal and decided maybe hitchhiking wasn't such a hot idea. So I'm waiting in line in the Seattle Greyhound station.

The guy ahead of me was a bit drunk and told me he was headed back to Walla Walla. He was on parole from the Big House, the Crowbar Hotel, the Joint. He seemed friendly enough.

In short order we were joined by another gentleman. He appeared to know the guy on parole. This new person was panting and his eyes were big. "The heat's on my back, man," and we could see beefy clean-cut law enforcement types on the periphery of our vision in all directions. Whatever crime this guy had committed sure drew a lot of attention. And soon they closed in to nab him.

Did I mention what I looked like at this time? No? I was wearing an old Army jacket and hadn't shaved in about a week. At Evergreen I didn't stand out, I mean, we were Grunge long before Grunge became Grunge. But in the real world it was a different story.

So when these law enforcement officers swoop in I had a vision go through my mind. They grab the guy and ask,

"Who are you?"
"I just robbed a bank."

Then they go to the parolee,

"Who are you?"
"I'm on parole from Maximum Security at Walla Walla and I'm drunk."

Then they come to me,

"Who are you?"
"I study 'Shakespeare and the Age of Elizabeth' at The Evergreen State College."

Then the officer in charge instructs the others, "OK, book all three of them."

That's how it felt in 1979, just being associated with TESC was enough to get me in trouble. But, as it turned out, they merely arrested their main prey and quickly left. Meanwhile, on the bus ride back to Olympia I learned new things from my new acquaintance like where the best prostitutes could be found in Tacoma, and how I could kill a man with one hand.

Evergroove trivia, pt. 59

The Year From Hell Gets Worse.

The Council for Postsecondary Education's Evergreen Study released in Feb. 1979 spelled it out. The College had to change or it would die. The essay admission form, gone. The wild and unstructured curriculum, out the window. Competitive sports would be introduced in the 1979-80 year. The future shape of TESC was being decided by legislators and administrators who tweaked and pruned away aspects of the school that had bothered them for years. Dropping the "The" came up. A professional marketing firm was employed.

The students did not rise up in arms as one would've expected. About the only part of this whole change where we had any say was an election where a new school mascot could be chosen. The geoduck was graciously allowed to be listed on the ballot. The other choices were pretty boring as I recall, I think the Orca whale was one. Of course, we stayed loyal to the symbol that disturbed our detractors. But I think we were resigned to the reality of the situation.

But the faculty were not. They were having some very hard feelings about the CPE's mandate for making the school more mainstream. In one seminar, my teacher went on a rant about how rock stars like Bowie, Lennon, and Jagger were really corporate products. "Behind every one of those guys," he said, "is someone just like Dan Evans." He did not mean that as a compliment.

Shortly after the CPE study was published, Willi Unsoeld took a group of students on a climb to Rainier and died in an avalanche. A student named Janie Diepenbrock perished as well. And if that wasn't bad enough, a few days later a student was murdered in the backyard of her Westside house. The campus fell into a dark shock.

Willi was easily TESC's most charismatic ambassador in carrying the message of the experiment. When we attended his memorial in the Library lobby, we were saying goodbye to more than just a person.

Obviously the traditionalizing of TESC paid off, as enrollment improved and the College started showing up on various top ten lists. But there was something wonderful and eccentric and electric that was taken away as a result. The Evergreen that opened in the fall of 1979 would be a very different school.

Evergroove trivia, pt. 60

The graduation speaker for the class of 1979 was Angelo Pellegrini. When he was a boy, he came with his family from Italy to McCleary in 1913 and eventually worked his way up to being a highly respected UW professor and widely read author. Angelo was a true Renaissance man, writing in a very interdisciplinary way about history, food, human nature, and the art of living a joyful life.

This graduation was held on Red Square. The very first Super Saturday was taking place as well, a direct result of the CPE's recommendations and a sign that TESC was taking the idea of local marketing very seriously. So the place was packed.

As Angelo stepped up to the podium, a sudden gust of wind came up, blowing his prepared remarks all over the stage. And into the microphone the Grand Old Man cursed, "Well, God DAMN it!!

It had been one of those years and he summed it up very well.