IN 1995, EIGHTY-THREE ALUMNI took the time to respond to a
questionnaire concerning the impact of the Great Depression on their
education at Arizona State Teachers College (ASTC) in Flagstaff. Some
apologized for poor handwriting, others for the effect of arthritis or a
stroke. "Sorry this took so long," Amy Worthen regretted,
"there are days when my arthritis cuts up, and my fingers won't do
what I want them to do." Irene McDonald wrote on behalf of Lewis J.
McDonald, the 1930-31 class president and distinguished Northern Arizona
University employee, who was suffering from Alzheimer's disease. Together,
their moving reminiscences reflect love for their alma mater and reveal a
great deal about campus conditions in the thirties from the student
perspective. The financial insecurity of the depression influenced
everything, from these students' selection of a school to their social
life and, ultimately, their career choices. ASTC president Grady Gammage
recognized that higher education was a "depression industry" -- one
that fared well in hard times. Most of the alumni would agree.
universal themes emerge from these recollections, such as fondness for the
undergraduate experience and the intimacy of a small student body. Local
characteristics unique to ASTC -- generous financial aid,
self-sufficiency, and ethnic tolerance -- can also be identified. "It
was the only school I knew about that would make [a college education]
possible for a student with very limited financial ability (I was born in
a rural community where most families were far below any poverty
level)," Elwood Miller declared. Charles S. Shumway remembered that
"ASTC was in the 30s almost self-sustaining. They produced their own
electricity with a steam-powered generator. Bread, pies, and cakes were
baked in large ovens located behind the dining hall staffed by student
bakers. Health care was provided in a cottage called the infirmary or
better known as the Pest House." "It was a little 'cow college'
when I went there (cows actually grazed on the football field)," John
Fetterly Gault commented. "School was a place I was and am proud to
be part [of]," Ida Mae Fredericks Nowabbi Murdock said. "As a
full-blooded Indian I was accepted." In 1939 Ida was the first Hopi
Indian to obtain a degree. Known as "Walking Woman" in Hopi, she
made the honor roll several times. After a long career as an educator, she
is now a volunteer music teacher for kindergarten through seventh-grade
students at the Hopi Mission School.1
Some topics that pervade other oral histories of thirties' college
students are conspicuously absent from these memoirs. Just one ASTC
graduate mentioned Communism as a critical campus issue. No one recalled
any students starving or tension between "haves" and
"have-nots." Taken together, the questionnaires offer a voice
devoid of bitterness or despair,2
ASTC opened its doors as Northern Arizona Normal School in 1899 with
two faculty and an enrollment of thirty-seven. By 1930, the school had
changed names twice -- Northern Arizona State Teachers College in 1924 and
ASTC in 1928 -- and grown to 476 students and thirty-nine faculty members.
The largely unlandscaped campus consisted of fourteen buildings. The North
Central Association of Colleges and Secondary Schools accredited ASTC as a
teacher-training institution in 1930, the only school in the Southwest so
recognized. Two presidents, Grady Gammage (1926-33) and Thomas Tormey
(1933-44), charted the school's course through a turbulent decade.3
"Prune pickers" from California, farm kids, the sons and
daughters of mining families, misplaced or adventuresome easterners --
such was the composition of the ASTC student body in the 1930s. In 1933,
the school enrolled students from all fourteen Arizona counties, twelve
other states, and the Philippine Islands. Californians led the
out-of-state list, just 8 percent of the total student population. The
ratio between men and women hovered near parity.4
A majority of the alumni recalled a homogeneous student body. Jeff
Murray Ferris noted that "the student body was all in the same
economic group. We were all poor but we didn't know it." Most were
from rural Arizona. Those who noticed differences mentioned older,
returning students or the few Native American and Hispanic students.
Dorothy Fain Benatz remembered with fondness Wilson Riles (Class of 1940),
an off-campus African American student, who later served as principal of
the segregated Dunbar School in Flagstaff and eventually became
superintendent of public instruction for California. Rachel M. Smith Hill
recalled that "summer school drew a much more varied group both as
students and teachers. They were older and came from all parts of the
country, drawn by the climate and the many scenic attractions."5
It was, Charles B. Fleming stated, "the only institution of higher
learning in Arizona which offered me a job to partially pay for my
education. It was the worst of times in the 30s. At the time I entered
ASTC my father was unemployed. After 22 years with the Phelps Dodge Corp.
he was pensioned on $95 a month." Alumni cited location and the
availability of jobs as the most important factors in selecting ASTC.
Other students, like Frederick J. Dockstader, future director of the Heye
Foundation Museum of the American Indian, and Betty Safford Kernahan, came
because their relatives -- in this case, aunts Cornelia Dockstader and
Bess Chappell -- were part of the faculty. Betty also harbored a desire
to live in the "wild, wild West." Esther Tombaugh Spreen
enrolled at ASTC through the auspices of her brother, Clyde Tombaugh, a
twenty-four-year-old researcher at Lowell Observatory, who discovered
Pluto on February 18, 1930.6
Faculty recruitment proved an effective tool for generating enrollment.
Deans Tom Bellwood and Minnie Lintz made a successful yearly circuit
through rural Arizona, but student Bob Eunson, who would become an
award-winning journalist during World War II, wins the prize as a
persuasive, unofficial school spokesman. "My friend Bob Eunson came
by one day in 1934," wrote John Fetterly Gault, "and invited me
to come up to Flag. Ten or eleven of us 'prune pickers' trekked over from
southern California in two old wrecks of cars that just barely made it.
Bob loaned me a set of drums to use in the danceband [Lumberjack
Although a few ASTC students could rely on their families for financial
support during their college years, most had to work for room and board
and tuition. Fees began at $260 for in-state expenses in 1930, dropped to
$225.50 in 1933, and rose again to $279 by 1939. Some students found
creative solutions to financial problems; Elsie McCauley, for example, in
1932 bartered sacks of potatoes for tuition; Rolf Larson's Holstein cow,
Codera, underwrote his education.8
The part-time work program of the New Deal National Youth
Administration (NYA) enabled many young people to attend school. In 1939
the NYA awarded ASTC $5,940, which supported 443 students. Undergraduates
could earn ten to twenty dollars and graduate students twenty to thirty
dollars per month. Students who lived off-campus were ineligible for NYA
jobs on campus. Seniors were asked to give up jobs so that incoming
freshmen might work. Two job sites, in particular, evoked a flood of
memories among the alumni -- the dairy and the dining hall. "I worked
at the dairy the last three years of my time at ASTC," James LeMar
Shelley reminisced. "There were four of us involved -- two of us had
a morning shift where we began milking at 5:00 A.M., and the other two an
evening shift where we began milking at 5:00 P.M. Two of the cows were
very difficult to milk. One of them was called Tough Teatie, which is an
apt description of the problem with her." On February 10, 1933,
President Gammage proudly reported in the Coconino
Sun that the forty animals in the dairy herd had saved ASTC $2,606
in fiscal year 1931-32.9
Margaret Hanley (NAU 1919-3)
Mother Hanley, whose first name, Margaret, is almost forgotten, was
synonymous with the dining hall. Under her watchful eye, male student
waiters, properly adorned in white aprons and jackets, served food on
tables set with white linen cloths and napkins. Charles Shumway remembered
that "'Mother' Hanley, matron of the dining hall ... went about her
services with quiet dignity that almost inspired reverence. While lady
faculty members and dorm matrons demanded good manners and conduct of the
male and were seldom successful, Mother Hanley could get far better
results with her quiet charm and manner." "I had to fill the
sugar bowls for each table," Electa Palmer Hilton remarked.
"They called me 'sugar.' The waiters teased me and kissed me in a
closet until Mother Hanley told them to stop this and leave me
alone." "Near the time I was about to leave because of finances
I was given a 'job' in the dining hall," related Harry K. Wolf.
"I took empty coal buckets downstairs, across the street, filled them
and brought them back to a place near the kitchen stoves -- fifteen
buckets a day." And Dorothy Fain Benatz recalled that "'Mother
Hanley's boys' included [future] governor Raul Castro."
"Brother can you spare a room?" might have been the refrain
for the housing situation in the early thirties. In 1933, 80 percent of
students lived on campus. The dorms and small summer cottages were
bursting at the seams. Students made do with makeshift accommodations in
basements, the gym, janitor's quarters, the dairy barn, and even the
president's home. Cottage dwellers battled notorious bedbug
Students living outside the sheltered campus witnessed the harsher side
of life. "My husband and I lived in a small trailer and parked it at
Kit Carson forestry camp," related Florence Hannan Currier.
"While there we saw and talked to many families who had left the dust
bowl areas, many striving to find a better life. It was sad to see
families on the move and in need."
The Arizona State Teachers College Bulletin, 1931-1932, stated:
"Our college is small. It is not ambitious to become a large
institution. We want to maintain an A grade institution in the quality of
its work, its faculty, and its student body -- where a democratic
atmosphere and personal contact will aid in the process of
education." President Gammage, facing a $30,000 budget cut that
included a 10 percent cut on all salaries above $1,200, advocated an
emphasis on scholastic improvement, spirit, and morale. During his
presidency, Tom Tormey stressed small classes, freedom of speech, and the
importance of critical thinking as opposed to memorization. Student
perceptions of how those goals were implemented varied. "We were on
the quarter system and we had a great deal of assigned reading and
research," said Franklin V.Jordan. But Mary Pace Allen recalled that
"we did not have many if any research papers to write. Grades were
given on tests. Objective tests were rather new and very popular." In
Ethel McCoy Benham's opinion, "our instructors were far from top
notch. Undoubtedly they were underpaid, especially the women. The
relationship was rigid and dictatorial. The instruction was repetitious
with too much time spent on history, and too little emphasis on
possibilities for the future." By contrast, Frederick Dockstader
thought that "the teaching style was informal, yet dignified, and the
teaching content ranged all over the place. My education was unique, in a
way, for it included much that had little to do with the course content,
but broadened my outlook." Charles Fleming complained that he
attended "fairy tail [sic] courses devised by 'Swivel-chair
Olympians' who never taught an elementary or high school class.''11
Despite differences of opinion regarding the quality of the classroom
experience, all but four alumni rated the relationship between faculty and
students as good or excellent. Recurrent phrases sprinkled thoughout the
questionnaires captured the sentiment: "one big family,"
"collegial atmosphere," "professional, caring
faculty," and "they knew us by name." Students enjoyed Ida
G. Wilson's progressive library program and opportunities for
nontraditional, fieldwork experiences with anthropologist John McGregor or
National Park Service naturalist Edwin "Eddie" McKee.12
Almost everyone identified a favorite faculty member. For Rachel M.
Smith Hill, it was Edna Dotson of business education, who invited students
to her home and "also spent a night in the dorm with us to attend one
of our 'bull sessions.'" Esther Tombaugh Spreen shared a humorous
interchange with Mary Boyer, who taught Arizona literature. " [One
day a student told of] a girl whose comment [upon seeing the Grand Canyon]
was 'Oh, isn't it cute.' With her brown eyes flashing, Miss Boyer snapped,
'I would have pushed her in!'" Charles Fleming lamented the dismissal
of band instructor Richard J. Bordman, a self-educated emigre and Basil
Rathbone look-alike from Wales, who could compose an entire overture in an
evening. Fleming blamed the termination on Bordman's socialistic
tendencies, which may have been of concern to President Gammage.13
Looking for fossils (NAU 1939-4-41X12)
Mary G. Boyer,
faculty queen, 1938 (NAU 1938-7-14)
A handful of campus organizations in the teens grew into thirty-six
very active fraternal, scholarly, and religious groups in the thirties.
The honor societies and fraternities alone constituted a veritable Greek
alphabet soup: Pi Omega Pi (1931), Alpha Psi Omega (first fraternity on
campus, 1929), Delta Psi Kappa (1930), Kappa Delta Pi (1930), Omicron
Kappa Gamma (1929), Sigma Eta Alpha (1929), Sigma Alpha (1929), etc. Other
popular groups included the Mad Hatters (women's social club), the Arizona
Playmakers, and the Chain Gang (men's service organization). The debaters,
under the direction of Mary Hill, frequently won regional contests.14
The most revered organization, however, was the Hiking Club. Formally
established in 1927, the more-than-200-member club capitalized on the
"wonderful scenery so close to our college." Members enjoyed
hikes to Walnut Canyon, the Ice Caves, Oak Creek, Sunset Crater, and the
club's permanent camp at Phantom Ranch in the Grand Canyon. On May 9,
1934, club president Art Foster and chaperon Florence Laird led an
ambitious hike to Betatakin and Keet Seel Ruins where the group
"slept on the rooftops on the ancient dwelling."15
Women's gymnastics near Old Main (NAU 1938-5-1)
Ice skaters (NAU
Despite their isolation, ASTC students and Flagstaff residents found
plenty of opportunity for cultural pursuits. On Monday, August 13, 1934,
students and faculty staged the first performance of an annual pageant,
The Legend of the Great Peaks, in the pines one and a half miles
east of town. Dr. Eldon A. Ardrey conducted the ASTC choir on April 21,
1935, in the first of many national radio broadcasts of sunrise Easter
services at the south rim of the Grand Canyon. Not all dramatic endeavors
proved so successful. Charles Fleming recounted a German troupe's
performance of the Passion Play. "They were short on actors," he
said, "so asked if members of the student body would fill in the
parts. Andrew Wolf and I were selected to be scribes in King Herod's
court. Jim Dixon was to take the part of John the Baptist. When John was
supposed to wash the feet of Christ, he missed his cue which infuriated
the production manager. The manager began hurling cuss words behind the
scenes at Jim. This tirade could also be heard by the audience which
became shocked. Many left and others broke out laughing. For Andy, Jim,
and myself it was our last attempt at acting."16
"Give them the ax, give them the ax, give them the ax where? Right
in the neck, right in the neck, right in the neck here!" Edgar
Burkhart's septuagenarian voice rang out from a 1994 homecoming float as
he taught onlookers his 1937 yell. On that crisp October day, Edgar
connected the enchanted crowd with Lumberjack spirit past. In 1932, when
ASTC beat the University of Arizona football team 7-6 (the first time
ever), that same spirit moved President Gammage to smack the head of an
unsuspecting spectator and scream, "How do you like that for
In celebration, a twenty-five-pound, pure Arizona copper ax was forged,
symbolizing the strength of the school's football, basketball, baseball,
track, tennis, and boxing teams. On November 9,1933, six football players
from Tempe -- now Arizona State University -- stole the ax. The culprits
were captured after a thirty-mile chase to Williams. As punishment, ASTC
students treated the thieves to generous doses of blue and yellow (the
school colors) paint over their bodies and a parade through town. "We
done it to put some pep in them guys down at Tempe," remarked one of
the boys. The students admired their spunk; President Tormey declined to
ASTC, as part of the Border Intercollegiate Athletic Conference,
supported its sports program through a seven-dollar activity fee. Alumnus
Louis Beck Lancaster noted that no intercollege athletic opportunities
existed for women. Students administered the program until 1935, when the
North Central Association recommended that control be transferred to the
Individual sporting activities like swimming, hunting, and fishing
offered relief from academic stress. In the winter, students could ice
skate, ski, and toboggan. Adventuresome souls attached canvas to boards to
create "ice boats" and blew across Lake Mary at thirty-five
miles per hour. Outdoor activities were not risk free. Tragedy struck on
February 28,1930, when student Jack Wilmoth was killed while being pulled
on a toboggan behind a car.20
Local citizens interacted with ASTC students by attending plays or
athletic events. Many families hired coeds as babysitters or housekeepers.
The college contributed approximately $500,000 to Flagstaff's economy in
1938. President Tormey facetiously estimated that female students expended
$1,500 a year on candy alone! Appreciative of a congenial relationship, on
January 13, 1932, the faculty entertained 200 townspeople with dancing and
bridge in a festooned Ashurst Auditorium.21
Although Charlotte Mills Fern felt dorm students ostracized town
students, most alumni characterized the town-and-gown relationship as
positive. Harry K. Wolf, for example, recalled that "there were good
times when the city in the evenings would turn on the fire hydrants so the
water could freeze and students could ice skate. We used to snow sled down
the hill in town." And Charles Shumway remarked that "the Town
Jacks [athletic supporters] helped integrate students with townspeople. I
can recall no problems, although undoubtedly some of the boisterous
natures of some of us may have aroused wrathful indignation on occasions
when celebrated athletic victories were carried on into the night."
Youthful exuberance could lead to conflict. The Chain Gang, a group of
thirteen male students charged with maintaining school traditions, would
pilfer Flagstaff outhouses to feed the pregame, pep-rally bonfires. One
irate resident once arrived with the sheriff to reclaim his property
before it was incinerated. The Chain Gang had to reset the outhouse in
question, and the angry owner "tried it out" to be certain it
had been replaced correctly.22
Freshmen (NAU 1940-6-14)
Errol Flynn crowns Alice Moore, La Cuesta
queen for 1939 (NAU 1940-6-1)
Like all colleges, ASTC had its share of traditions. The initiation of
freshmen did not elicit fond memories among the alumni. "When I was a
freshman I had to be a 'Greenie,'" Electa Palmer Hilton remembered.
"The upper class of the year were in charge. I had to have a green
cap and put my hair inside the cap. I looked awful!" Charles Fleming
also recalled the green caps: "We were never to be seen without them.
If the ultimatum was disobeyed . . . you were reported to the hazing
committee for punishment . . . three unbearable swats with a large paddle
across the buttok [sic]. I had one such treatment and was hardly able to
walk. Fortunately, Si Flores, a senior who was also from Douglas, took me
under his wing and saw to it I was not further mistreated." Other
traditions were more enjoyable. In 1930, male students painted the first
250-foot by 300-foot "A" on Mount Widen. Beginning in 1929,
homecoming activities reflected various themes, such as hobos, the circus,
or logging. In 1934, Queen Helen Gibbons and King Chester Fuller rode
proudly atop borrowed logging wheels for the first time. The logging-wheel
tradition continues today.23
Limited finances meant students sought simple pleasures. Only one or
two could afford an automobile. Walter Cain, a football player from Jerome
known as "Hippo," drove a Chevrolet coupe. Because women usually
had more money, they invited men to movies. A nickle, if one had it, would
buy a cup of coffee or a bearclaw at the Campus Inn. Young Cinderellas
danced with their beaux at the Route 66 Museum Club, then raced back to
the dorms to beat the 11:00 P.M. curfew. The cider at a campus dance was
spiked a time or two, despite the specter of immediate expulsion for
alcohol consumption. All-college picnics were also popular.24
Oddly, the glamour of 1930s Hollywood became a part of the ASTC
experience. Andy Devine, who had attended the college in 1926, often
returned to campus with "intriguing" young starlets. He took
time from his movie career and Jack Benny's NBC radio program to select
the La Cuesta yearbook queens from photographs. One lucky queen,
Julie Osborne (1938), received a personally guided tour of Universal
Studios from Andy. In 1939, Erroll Flynn and Randolph Scott, who were
filming Virginia City near Flagstaff, selected Alice Moore as
No discussion of college life would be complete without a love story.
Alumni Leonard Thompson Spooner shared his, reminiscing that, "while
carrying the mail [from the post office in downtown Flagstaff] and
distributing [it] to the dorms, I met a beautiful blond in Morton Hall
named Lucretia Butler. She was Snow Queen in 1933 and 1934. We dated for
the rest of our time and after graduation. We were married in 1936 because
she was helping her brother to attend veternary [sic] school in Kansas and
at that time married women could not teach in Scottsdale, so we had to
Unquestionably, the Great Depression colored all that these ASTC
students undertook. "The whole sociological picture, both in school
and out, seemed to carry an air of 'question' about the future --
insecurity -- lack of long-term planning," recollected Leo Clifford
Bowers. Most alumni emphasized the fact that they had to work, for money
was scarce. "It was less expensive for our parents to keep us in
college than to be at home unemployed," Dorothy Fain Benatz
explained. "Almost all of the students worked for their room and
board." Sherman Waldrip recalled how he "struggled to just stay
in school with virtually no financial backing. No clothes. No lab fees. No
spending money. I became very conservative and have remained so."
Homecoming king and queen ride the traditional logging wheels (NAU
Old Main, library, and training school, c. 1937 (NAU
Bank closures took their toll. Esther Tombaugh Spreen told how
"Flagstaff had only one bank. It was used by practically everyone
from businesses and institutions down to students. Sometime during that
1931-32 year the bank suddenly closed its doors. Flagstaff came to a
virtual standstill. Students lost their college expense money." John
Moore agreed: "I had been left funds to put me through Ann Arbor, but
bank closures left us penniless. Changed my entire life." All of the
alumni experienced long nights, worrying about whether their major would
ensure employment in an unstable world.27
A remarkably large percentage of ASTC graduates found hope in a
desperate situation. Many appreciated the opportunity to get an education.
Their level of pride in accomplishment was high as a result of financial
struggle. A cooperative atmosphere seems to have pervaded campus,
epitomized by words like friendship, respect, and closeness. This is the
part of life, be it mellow anecdote or not, that the alumni have chosen to
Campus conditions had begun to improve by academic year 1938-39. The
total budget crept up to $213,635 from a low of $158,324 in 1934-35. The
dormitories boasted new additions; steam heat replaced the coal furnaces.
Library holdings doubled in nine years to 28,374 items. The Business
Department found enough money to purchase a long-awaited Dictaphone. In
the fall of 1939, enrollment swelled to 545 students.29
Perhaps more indicative of the end of hard times was the announcement
in the Coconino Sun on September 28, 1940: COLLEGE SELLS DAIRY
HERD. President Tormey had negotiated the sale of the college's
twenty-nine Holstein cows to a Flagstaff firm. Tormey claimed that
maintaining the herd was no longer cost effective and cited the health
hazard posed by unpasteurized milk. But maybe, just maybe, Dr. Tormey's
true motivation was his intention to convert the cow pasture into a golf
course, which never materialized.
In 1995, the 1930s graduates still lauded a college that provided
financial support in the midst of the depression and a scholarly community
that was close-knit, tolerant, and self-reliant. Dr. Platt Cline
characterized ASTC as an institution that survived against the odds, one
that continually skirmished with a skeptical legislature and competed with
sister colleges in southern Arizona. He rightly credits strong leadership
and united community support for the school's success.
Yet, the reason the institution has thrived must also be attributed to
former students and faculty. They cared about ASTC then, just as they
cared enough to write sixty years later. In 1931, Ella Lee Marr
sequestered herself in a room in Old Main and penned this prophetic line,
part of her prize-winning alma mater song: "When the wind whispers
down through the pine trees, my thoughts ever return to you." Her
heartfelt words remain true for many alumni of the "Mountain
1 Questionnaires may he
found in "Northern Arizona University -- Alumni," Vertical Files,
Special Collections and Archives Department (SCA) Cline Library Northern
Arizona University. Hereinafter cited as "NAU-Alumni " Coconino
Sun, October 2, ]931, May 26, 1939. Many of the Coconino
Sun articles cited in this paper- are referenced in the Melvin T.
Hutchinson Collection, SCA. See Melvin Hutchinson, The
Making of Northern Arizona University (Flagstaff: Northern Arizona
2 Studs Terkel, Hard
Times: An Oral History of the Great Depression (New York: Pantheon
Books, 1970), pp. xi-9, 346-49.
Sun, March 21, 1930, April 22, 19332: Platt Cline, Mountain
Campus: The Story of Northern Arizona University (Flagstaff:
Northland Press, 1983), p. 358.
Sun April 21, 28, 1933.
5 See also Charles S.
Shumway and Elizabeth Duggan Webb, "NAU -- Alumni.'' Of the seventy-two
respondents who identified their religious affiliation, the highest
percentage belonged to either the LDS or the Episcopal Church A little
less than half were born in Arizona.
6 "NAU -- Alumni';
ASTC, The Pine, April 7, 1936. For information about Pluto, see the
Sun, March 13, 1930.
7 See also Electa Palmer
Hilton, Jeff Murray Ferris, and Cecilia Radetic Miller, "NAU -- Alumni.
Sun, October 4 and 7, 1932; Cline, Mountain
Campus, p. 367.
9 See also Mary Pace
Allen, Cecilia Radetic Miller, Leonard Thomas Miller, Charles S. Shumway
Esther Tombaugh Spreen, and John C. White, "NAU -- Alumni''; Coconino
Sun, August 18, 1933, May 12, 1936, September 8, 1939.
10 See also Charles B.
Fleming and James LeMar Shelley, "NAU -- Alumni; Arizona
State Teachers College Bulletin, 1931-1932 (Flagstaff: ASTC,
March-April 1931); Coconino
Sun, October 10, 1930, February 20, 1931, April 28, 1933.
11 In 1937, the
legislature authorized ASTC to develop a Master's-level graduate program
in education. Leo Bowers and Jeff Murrary Ferris, "NAU -- Alumni";
Sun, September 4, 1931, May 6, 1932, June 10, 1938.
12 The Pine,
November 5, 1935; Coconino
Sun, June 6, 1930, April 19, 1935, May 12, 1939.
Sun, September 30, 1938. Leo Bowers grieved for Dr. W. R. Skidmor,
who accidentally and fatally shot himself in 1933 while duck hunting. Of
the alumni who responded to the questionnaire forty-seven had completed
their bachelor's degree and twenty-seven went on to receive a graduate
degree A full 80 percent became teachers or educational administrators,
"NAU -- Alumni."
14 ASTC, LA
Cuesta (Yearbook), 1930; Arizona
State Teachers College Bulletin, 1932-1933; Irene McDonald,
"NAU -- Alumni''; Coconino
Sun, March 8, 1935. The yearbook was not published from 1935 to 1937
owing to economic constrains.
15 La Cuesta
1927; "Northern Arizona University -- Hiking Club," Vertical File,
Sun, April 20, 1934.
Sun, August 10, 1934, April 19, 1935, April 26, 1935.
Sun, November 4, 1932.
Sun, November 10, 1933.
19 The Pine,
January 29, 1935; Coconino
Sun, April 17, 1931.
20 Charles B. Fleming,
Harry K. Wolf, "NAU-Alumni"; Coconino
Sun, Febuary 28, 1930.
21 Cecelia Radetic
Miller, ''NAU-Alumni'; Coconino
Sun, January 15 and December 23, 1932, December 30, 1938.
22 See also Charles B.
Fleming, Stanton Wallace, "NAU -- Alumni."
Arizona University -- Student Life," Vertical File, SCA; The
Pine, October 9, 1934, October 20, 1936, January 19, 1937; Coconino
Sun, October 24, 1930.
24 See also Franklin
D. Allhands, Leo Bowers, Irene McDonald, Cecelia Radetic Miller,
"NAU -- Alumni''; "NAU -- Student Life." Martha Washington
Anderson noted that women had no fear of walking to the movies or shopping
25 The Pine,
February 2, March 15, April 19, 1938; Coconino
Sun, November 20, 1931, May 16, 1932, November 17, 1939.
Sun, February 24, 1933, January 26, 1934. All but three of the
questionnaire respondents had married. Only two had divorced.
27 See also Charles S.
Shumway, "NAU -- Alumni." The state banking department closed the
Arizona Bank (Flagstaff) on Friday, June 24, 1932. Platt Cline, Mountain
Town: Flagstaff 's First Century (Flagstaff: Northland Publishing,
1994), p. 302.
28 Franklin V Jordan,
Cecelia Radetic Miller, Ida Mae Fredericks Nowabbi Murdock, and Ira A.
Murphy, "NAU -- Alumni."
Sun, March 16, 1937, May 19, 1939; Cline, Mountain
Campus, pp. 170-71, 276, 358.
30 Ella Lee Marr to
John Vaughn, October 9, 1979, in "Northern Arizona University,
Flagstaff, Arizona -- Alma Mater Song," Vertical File, SCA.
CREDITS-All photographs are courtesy of Cline Library, Special
Collections Northern Arizona University.
Permission to present this electronic version of I REMEMBER
Depression-Era Students at Arizona State Teachers College was granted
by the author and the Arizona Historical Society
to the The Journal of Arizona History's index page