91̽

Alumni and Friends

OHIO’s Class of 1970 looks back on a school year unlike any other

91̽ students protest on College Green on May 5, 1970, the day after four Kent State University students were shot and killed when members of the National Guard opened fire on a crowd protesting the Vietnam War. The protests escalated over the next nine days, prompting the closure of 91̽ on May 15, 1970. Photo courtesy of the Peter L. Goss (PHD ’73) Photograph Collection/91̽ Mahn Center for Archives and Special Collections

91̽ students protest on College Green on May 5, 1970, the day after four Kent State University students were shot and killed when members of the National Guard opened fire on a crowd protesting the Vietnam War. The protests escalated over the next nine days, prompting the closure of 91̽ on May 15, 1970. Photo courtesy of the Peter L. Goss (PHD ’73) Photograph Collection/91̽ Mahn Center for Archives and Special Collections

Over the course of its 216-year history, 91̽ has faced many challenges – from town-gown friction and economic downturns to wars that gripped the nation and the world. It was war that presented the University one of its most significant challenges in recent history – that is, until last month when life at 91̽ and throughout the world underwent drastic change in response to the global coronavirus pandemic.

Like the University’s current students who left campus for Spring Break only to later learn that the remainder of their spring semester would be conducted through remote and online learning, Bobcats enrolled at the University in the spring of 1970 also ended the school year in an unexpected way.

At approximately 3 a.m. on May 15, 1970, then-President Claude Sowle announced the closing of 91̽. The announcement came 11 days after members of the National Guard opened fire on a crowd at Kent State University protesting the Vietnam War, killing four Kent State students and sparking increasingly violent protests at college campuses across the country. 91̽ students were given 24 hours to vacate campus.

It was particularly devastating news to OHIO’s Class of 1970 whose last month as 91̽ students ended in an instant, devoid of the pomp and circumstance OHIO graduates had known for decades. There was no time for tearful goodbyes and the making of end-of-college memories. There was no Commencement, only diplomas sent by mail. And there were no cell phones, email or social media that allowed these Bobcats to connect with one another in the ways we do today.

For the Class of 1970, their OHIO experience was marked by a period of change and of increased activism with students demanding to be heard on issues that mattered to them. Black students demanded the administration pay more attention to their needs. Women demanded an end to “hours” that placed them under a curfew. And as the Vietnam War escalated and they saw their peers being plucked from their hometowns to fight in foreign jungles, more and more students were demanding an end to the conflict.

In honor of the Class of 1970, recently caught up with three Golden Bobcats who reflected on their 91̽ experience and a school year unlike any other:

Julie (Snider) Lehr, BSJ ’70, became a staff writer at 91̽’s student-run newspaper, The Post, her sophomore year and found her passion for journalism. She went on to become The Post’s campus editor her junior year and the managing editor her senior year.

Julie (Snider) Lehr, BSJ ’70, became a staff writer at 91̽’s student-run newspaper, The Post, her sophomore year and found her passion for journalism. She went on to become The Post’s campus editor her junior year and the managing editor her senior year.

Julie (Snider) Lehr, BSJ ’70

What was it like being on campus during such a controversial war, and what stands out to you about that time?

I think that it’s very difficult not to have what happened in May of 1970 overshadow everything because it did become violent with some of the protests that were going on. The police were using tear gas, and the students were picking up bricks off campus green sidewalks and tossing them. I remember a tear gas canister landing in the outside entryway to (The Post) office that was in the Baker Student Center, and we had to evacuate for that.

But really, over four years of being on campus when there was protest against the war, the vast majority of demonstrations and rallies were peaceful events. And in many ways, I would say it was an exciting time to be on campus and to witness the passion of many of the anti-war activists. At the same time, there was a sizable portion of the student body that was really not focused in on everything going on related to Vietnam. They were just going to their classes and going about their daily routines. So, the war itself could take on, I think, kind of an overpowering presence if you look at isolated events. It really intensified after Kent State. Up until then, things were pretty well under control, but with the shootings at Kent State things got a lot more violent, a lot more radical.

As an editor for The Post, how involved were you in the coverage of the anti-war protests?

Because I was the managing editor, I was highly involved – not so much out there myself, observing what was happening and writing about it, but more in an editing capacity, editing copy that the reporters were putting together and also making sure we had writers and photographers on the scene when something was happening. I also worked with Editor Andy Alexander (BSJ ’72) and Associate Editor Tom Hodson (BSJ ’70) to determine our editorial stance about what was going on. It was kind of ironic because that spring, May of 1970, even with all the things happening on campus, we editorialized saying the school should stay open. In contrast, two years ahead of us, there was a bad spring flood and the editor of the paper at the time, Tom Price (BSJ ’68), and his senior editors took an editorial position that the school should close, and it didn’t, so in each case, what we recommended was not what happened at the school. So just a little touch of irony there.

What is your most memorable moment of your time at 91̽?

Well, I have a main one and a runner-up. The main one had to be what was going on in May of 1970 – specifically, getting a call from the president’s office to let us know that school would be closed. They, of course, were conscious of the fact that we were putting out a newspaper for the next morning and wanted us to include that major news, but actually, I think it kind of spread like wildfire across campus. But still, we had that call, and it was kind of sobering even as we put the paper together. From my own viewpoint, there was a personal impact, too, because it meant we had no Commencement that year, which was extremely sad for my parents. I was the only one in our family to graduate from college, and they were really looking forward to a Commencement and there was none. Beyond my own personal concern was the wider impact … all of a sudden, the school year ended and there was a lot of unfinished business regarding classes and credits and grades. We had to close up all the offices of The Post and yet also be trying to put things in place for the following year, and it was just kind of a chaotic time.

I have a runner-up, though, and that was in spring of 1968 and the flooding of the Hocking River. I lived in Crook Hall (now the Stocker Center), which was a dorm on West Green. There was a bridge that connected the dorm to the rest of the green. Campus officials became worried that the flood might actually wash out that bridge or affect it. So, in the middle of the night, we had to evacuate the women living in Crook. I was a resident assistant at the time, so I had to go get people out of bed and say, bring what you need in terms of clothes for tomorrow because we don’t know when we’re going to get back in. Then we took everyone to other dorms, and they had to find places on the floor and couches and things to sleep on.

Julie (Snider) Lehr’s 40-year career included stints as a newspaper reporter and editor, as well as a community college instructor. In 2011, she retired after serving more than 18 years as the communications director for the city of Woodbury, Minnesota.

Julie (Snider) Lehr’s 40-year career included stints as a newspaper reporter and editor, as well as a community college instructor. In 2011, she retired after serving more than 18 years as the communications director for the city of Woodbury, Minnesota.

Where did your degree take you after leaving Athens?

The first job I had was working in Battle Creek, Michigan, as a copy editor for the newspaper there, but I only stayed there a few months. In February of ’71, my husband and I moved to Columbia, and that’s where I went to graduate school at the University of Missouri. I worked at the university’s public information office on campus when I was in graduate school and also for the university-owned TV station. We moved back to Michigan, and I worked for The Lansing State Journal. My beats included the city of East Lansing and Michigan State University, which were interesting areas, but then I kind of took a major detour.

I was looking for part-time work at the time because our first child had been born, and I became a community college teacher. That was interesting. I tried to recall my best professors at Ohio U and channel them in what I was doing. I didn’t have any formal training in education, so I thought of people like Ralph Izard who was a favorite of mine when I was on campus.

Eventually, we moved to Minnesota and there I was involved in newspapers again. There was a strong neighborhood newspaper network. In my final job before I retired, I worked for 18 years as the city communications director for Woodbury, Minnesota, a suburb of St. Paul. I always said that my degree allowed me to do a whole variety of things, and there was never a want for a job.

How do you feel The Post and Scripps prepared you for a career in journalism?

First and foremost, I graduated with a specific set of skills. Those were skills in writing and editing, and communications law, and ethics and marketing, and how to lay out something. You could have those skills, and you would be able to get a job at a newspaper or perhaps a public relations firm. But if you look at it more broadly, I think the skills from graduating from the J School there would be useful in any profession that you wanted to pursue. For instance, the idea of doing your research thoroughly, of having a curiosity about things and critical thinking, being accurate in what you do, using correct grammar and spelling, having attention to details, being fair and looking at all sides – I think those are skills that could serve you in just about any profession.

How do you stay connected to OHIO and your Bobcat family?

My first thought was not very well, but actually, at first, I kind of stayed in touch with my colleagues and my friends from the campus in the old-fashioned ways. Back then, we used phones and sent letters. We certainly didn’t have Facebook.

I did go in 1978 to one Post reunion on the campus, and I stayed in touch with people like Andy Alexander, and, of course, I followed Rudy Maxa’s (BSJ ’71) career through his work on TV.

There also was an alumni event when we lived in the Twin Cities. There was a year when the Bobcats played the University of Minnesota in football, so the alumni office put together a little event for OU graduates in the area. That was a lot of fun.

More recently, I’ve reconnected with many of my former Post friends through Facebook. It’s been really fun to find out what all of them are doing and have done.

Do you have any advice for 91̽ students whose Commencement has been postponed due to the coronavirus pandemic?

I’d tell students to come back for the postponed Commencement, if at all possible. Go ahead and celebrate your achievements with your friends and put an exclamation point on your college career. Take photos and mark one of life’s milestones. Wish I could have done that.

Kerry McCalla, BA ’70, MED ’70, and his wife, Lynne (Bell) McCalla, BFA ’70, were two of dozens of OHIO’s Class of 1970 graduates who returned to the Athens Campus in the spring of 2010 to participate in the University’s Commencement, 40 years after their graduation was canceled.

Kerry McCalla, BA ’70, MED ’70, and his wife, Lynne (Bell) McCalla, BFA ’70, were two of dozens of OHIO’s Class of 1970 graduates who returned to the Athens Campus in the spring of 2010 to participate in the University’s Commencement, 40 years after their graduation was canceled.

Kerry McCalla, BA ’70, MEd ’70

What was it like being on campus during such a controversial war, and what stands out to you about that time?

There was a lot of turmoil during that period. I was there from 1966 to 1970, and during that time, of course, the Vietnam War was escalating. The draft happened while we were there. We had the assassination of Bobby Kennedy and the assassination of Martin Luther King. We had the ’68 Democratic Convention and the riot associated with that, and the ’68 election, and then finally the Kent State shootings. It was a tumultuous time.

And so, there was a spirit of activism but usually constructive activism on 91̽’s campus, and there were opinions all over the place. There really was a conversation, which we were proud of. We did have little demonstrations in the streets and stuff like that. When Kent State happened, that was a whole different thing. We were very much aware of what was going on at other college campuses and how some of the colleges out east were closing, and Ohio U continued to have what I thought was constructive conversation. But, some of those more radical elements started traveling and coming to the 91̽ campus, so when Kent State happened, the discussions got more and more animated, and there was more trouble that came to Athens at the time.

I can still remember waking early one morning in my room at the Convo Center. There was this one morning in the Convo Center when I woke up to a sound I couldn’t identify. It sounded either like a trash truck or a concrete truck, and I looked out my window, which looked right over at Peden Stadium, and it was the state National Guard. Truck after truck after truck was pulling into the parking lot at Peden Stadium. Later that morning, they took a position up and down essentially all the streets of Athens. The University had finally made the decision to close. It was exciting. It was frustrating. But it was real.

When the University closed in May of 1970, I think we became the first class of graduates in the history of Ohio U not to have a graduation ceremony. They mailed us our diplomas. It was something of a letdown because when you graduate, you make those last goodbyes with friends you’ve made in college and get contacts, addresses and things like that. But that never happened. We had to clear out of there within 24 hours. I had to stay because I was on the dorm staff, but within 12 hours, the campus was empty. It was a very strange experience.

It was really a tumultuous time, and for people who didn’t live through it, it’s hard to appreciate how divisive the Vietnam War and the draft were. It was just very, very powerful. And, you know, it stuck with us – I guess for a lifetime, obviously.

Were you involved in the anti-war movement?

Certainly. My draft number came up. It was a low one; I was not happy about that. But, more importantly, we weren’t happy about the direction the country was going, and we thought the election of 1968 was a chance to change that. As part of that “protest,” we worked very hard against Richard Nixon, and, so there was a lot of disappointment when it didn’t turn out the way we had hoped. So, yes, we were up on the green regularly, but most of it was peaceful. Most of it was discussion with people expressing their opinion. And, of course, we were up there for two very sad memorial services for Bobby Kennedy and for Martin Luther King.

You mentioned how your time at OHIO was eventful and how you walked away with much more than a degree. Can you tell us more about that?

For me, it was a time of independence and getting away from home, and I just loved it. I knew job one was to go to classes and learn, make decent grades, just like it happened in high school. But I got involved with so many other things. For instance, music was a big part of my life, and I was one of the first freshmen selected to sing in the 91̽ Singers. I have many fond memories of three years of singing and touring with them.

Also, because I was in Honors College, I was encouraged to apply for the Ohio Fellows Program. I didn’t know a lot about it, but it sounded interesting. I applied for that and, in fact, made it into Ohio Fellows. The Ohio Fellows was a big part of my life outside of the classroom while I was there, and some of the things I learned in Ohio Fellows surpassed what I learned in the classroom. We spent a long weekend in Washington, D.C., and got to meet with people in various parts of government and learn that even though these people might have been in Congress they were people just like us. We could talk about the same kinds of ideas, and our ideas were just as valid as anybody else’s. For an 18-, 19-, or 20-year-old to have that kind of affirmation was powerful. Some of the relationships we made in Ohio Fellows carried with us, I think throughout our whole life.

Ohio U is also where I met my wife. We married in 1970. She was a music therapy major, and so we spent a lot of time in the music department. We’re going to celebrate our 50th wedding anniversary in October.

Kerry McCalla, BA ’70, MED ’70, and Lynne (Bell) McCalla, BFA ’70, are retired and living in Tennessee. They both have fond memories of participating in the Ohio Fellows Program and have been instrumental in revitalizing and supporting that leadership program.

Kerry McCalla, BA ’70, MED ’70, and Lynne (Bell) McCalla, BFA ’70, are retired and living in Tennessee. They both have fond memories of participating in the Ohio Fellows Program and have been instrumental in revitalizing and supporting that leadership program.

Where did your degree take you after leaving Athens?

I had a scholarship in physics, but I decided that I didn’t want to teach high school physics, so I started looking at some other things. While I was at Ohio U, I started taking classes in counseling from the College of Education. I stayed an extra semester and ended up with a master’s degree also in 1970 in education in student personnel and counseling, and I love the counseling aspect.

After I left Ohio U, I came to Vanderbilt where I did another master’s degree in counseling and began a career in community mental health. That was wonderful. I felt like I had found my niche, my place. I worked there and in private practice, but only for about five years. Budget cuts in community mental health forced me to look elsewhere.

After six months of unemployment, I ended up falling back on my physics degree. I took a job with our regional telephone company and spent 28 years as a project manager. I found out that a lot of undergraduate physics majors find their way into project management, and it was a good fit for me. I discovered that I could talk to non-technical people about technical subjects and help them understand what was going on.

How do you stay connected to OHIO and your Bobcat family?

The Ohio Fellows Program was rebooted in 2011, and my wife and I were both part of the funding effort of that program. Almost every trip that we’ve made back to Ohio U had something to do with Ohio Fellows. We felt like it has given us so much that if there was any way we could give back to it and help it succeed the second time around, that was something that we wanted to do. It has allowed us to get back together with friends who had been our friends when we were on campus and we were all in Ohio Fellows together. And we all felt similarly – that we had walked away with an education and a degree, which was wonderful and the necessary document to get us a job someplace, but Ohio Fellows was what really gave us something that enriched our lives. That’s why we continue to make significant gifts every year.

We went back to campus in 2010 and did, in fact, participate in our own graduation 40 years later. We walked across the stage and got our diploma from the president of the University. It was great, and Ohio U just did a wonderful job of welcoming us back and making sure that we did have that graduation experience.

Do you have any advice for 91̽ students whose Commencement has been postponed due to the coronavirus pandemic?

When our graduation was abruptly cancelled in 1970 and everyone was sent home, there was, of course, no Internet or no email or no digital communication of any kind.So, when we left campus so quickly, we lost touch with many of our classmates because we really didn’t have any good way of finding them. My wife was on an internship her last semester and didn’t even get to say “goodbye” to many of her closest friends.

So while I’m sure it is disappointing to work so hard for a goal and then have that diploma show up in the mail instead of a graduation ceremony, the friends and contacts these seniors have made throughout their four years will still be with them no matter where they go – it is a part of their life.My advice is to value those friendships and continue to nurture them as they face the new challenges that surely await.

After graduating from 91̽, Roderick J. McDavis, BSED ’70, pictured here as a first-year OHIO student, went on to earn a master’s degree from the University of Dayton and a doctoral degree from the University of Toledo. He served in teaching and administrative roles at the University of Florida, the University of Arkansas, and Virginia Commonwealth University where he was provost, vice president for academic affairs and a professor of education. In 2004, he was named 91̽’s 20th president, becoming only the second alumnus to lead the University and OHIO’s first black president. Dr. McDavis retired from 91̽ in February 2017 and is now the managing principal of executive search firm AGB Search.

After graduating from 91̽, Roderick J. McDavis, BSED ’70, pictured here as a first-year OHIO student, went on to earn a master’s degree from the University of Dayton and a doctoral degree from the University of Toledo. He served in teaching and administrative roles at the University of Florida, the University of Arkansas, and Virginia Commonwealth University where he was provost, vice president for academic affairs and a professor of education. In 2004, he was named 91̽’s 20th president, becoming only the second alumnus to lead the University and OHIO’s first black president. Dr. McDavis retired from 91̽ in February 2017 and is now the managing principal of executive search firm AGB Search.

91̽ President Emeritus Dr. Roderick J. McDavis, BSED ’70

What stands out to you about Athens and 91̽ during the spring of 1970?

Well, it was a very tense time to be in Athens. It was May 4 that the students at Kent State were shot, and it was already a tense situation with a lot of the protests that were occurring around the Vietnam War. When the students were shot at Kent State, it just made it worse. And then, as a result of the potential for ensuing riots at 91̽, the governor sent the National Guard here. Then it was at that point that President Sowle, in the interest of student health and safety, decided to close the University. It was very heartbreaking for me as a senior, very frustrating, but it was the right decision given that the protests at 91̽ certainly had the potential to escalate to the next level. I was student teaching at the time, so I wasn’t on campus during the day. I was only in Athens during the evenings, but even then, you could get the feeling that there was a lot of tension around the campus.

What were you like as a student? What were you involved in and what really excited you?

I was a fraternity guy as an undergraduate. I was a member of the Omega Phi Psi fraternity, so I was very much involved in that. I was an officer in the fraternity; my senior year I was the president. I was also involved in helping with tutoring. I think it was 1969 when OU started the Black Studies Institute, so I was a tutor in that department for a while. But I really wasn’t what you’d call an activist in college. I ran track my first year, so I was a student-athlete for a short time, and then I got involved in my fraternity.

What’s your most enduring memory of your time spent at 91̽ as a student?

The friendships that I was able to establish as a student because 91̽, and Athens in particular, is very community oriented. I met a lot of people who I still have friendships with today. It was the development of those friendships and personal relationships that I thought was the most positive part of my overall experience.

How did your memories of your senior year shape some of the decisions that you made as 91̽ president when you were confronted with a crisis?

You know, first and foremost, having a deep understanding that, regardless of whether it was 1970 or 2004 through 2017 when I was president, protests have always been part of the fabric of the college community.

The second thing is that I understood that you need to do the best you can to try to communicate why you’re making decisions because I recall that when 91̽ closed in the spring of 1970, we didn’t understand why. Maybe there wasn’t enough time to tell us why because we only had 24 or 48 hours to get out of town. So, my sense of that is that if a situation like that presented itself during my tenure, I wanted to make sure to tell the people and tell students why things were handled the way they were. I tried to remember that, always let your audience know the why.

During the time when I was a student back in 1970, you invest four years of your life to an endeavor and then it all leads up to Commencement and graduation, and we didn’t get to have that that year, so me and my buddies who were seniors, we were angry, we were upset, we were frustrated. But years later, when I served as president, I understood the reason President Sowle made that decision: to save lives. It was the wise thing to do.

Pictured is a moment 35 years in the making for 91̽ alumnus Roderick J. McDavis, BSED ’70, as he shakes the hand of James Heap, past dean of the Patton College of Education, during OHIO’s 2005 Commencement ceremony. Dr. McDavis not only walked in that ceremony, 35 years after his class’ Commencement was canceled, but also presided over his first Commencement as president of the University. Photo courtesy of University Communications and Marketing

Pictured is a moment 35 years in the making for 91̽ alumnus Roderick J. McDavis, BSED ’70, as he shakes the hand of James Heap, past dean of the Patton College of Education, during OHIO’s 2005 Commencement ceremony. Dr. McDavis not only walked in that ceremony, 35 years after his class’ Commencement was canceled, but also presided over his first Commencement as president of the University. Photo courtesy of University Communications and Marketing

Your first year as president of 91̽, you walked during the University’s 2005 Commencement, 35 years after graduating. What was it like to finally walk across that stage?

Fantastic. I’d never realized until 2005 that you need a sense of closure. And if there’s any concern I have about the Class of 2020, it’s that they won’t get to experience that. When I climbed the steps and took my diploma and shook the hand of the dean, I finally got that sense of closure. It finally felt like, more formally, I had graduated from 91̽. All across the country this year all these students who won’t be able to walk across that stage, I hope colleges work to give them that chance because it’s a necessary and memorable part of their college experience.

What made you want to extend the opportunity to walk in 91̽’s 2010 Commencement to your 1970 classmates?

I wanted them to have the same feeling that I had in 2005. I wanted them to feel that closure. I think it was 1980 that the University actually invited the Class of 1970 back. My life was such then that I just couldn’t make it back to participate, so when 2010 rolled around, we had the idea to bring the Class of 1970 back because it was the 40th anniversary. For me, being able to walk that stage was a dream, and I wanted to make sure my classmates had that same chance.

In an effort to address the immediate needs of students who experiencing financial hardships as a result of COVID-19 and necessary COVID-19 response measures, the University has launched a that includes a newly created . What prompted you and Mrs. McDavis to contribute to that fund?

We saw the email that President Nellis sent out making requests, and he made a strong case for some of the needs that students have financially. We just thought, what can we do to help. The best thing we could do was take that concept that Bobcats look out for one another and contribute some money so that we could provide some resources for those students who were in need. We wanted to be part of that process so we could help provide resources to students who need them right now.

The whole concept of Bobcats taking care of each other is important, now more than ever. Those of us who have graduated from OU sympathize with students today and are giving back financially, and that just warms our heart. We try to give back every year, and this is one way we’ll do that this year.

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To read more about the activism that took place at 91̽ in the spring of 1970, check out University Libraries’ “50 Years Later: Bobcat Solidarity Still Alive.”

We want to hear from this year’s Golden Bobcats! What are your favorite OHIO memories? Share your stories in the comments below.

Published
April 8, 2020
Author
Grace Dearing, BSJ '21, and Justin Thompson, BSJ '21