1977-1980 Part 3C: Debate at Wayne State: The Debaters

Posted on March 14, 2021 by Mike

Debaters (and others) of my coaching era. Continue reading →

The members of the Wayne State Forensics Union differed from the debaters whom I coached at U-M in several important respects.

Almost no one taking classes at Wayne State (except athletes) lived on campus. Nearly all the other students commuted.
Some Wayne students relied on public transportation (buses), but in the Motor City many of them had their own cars.
Some had jobs.
More than a few stayed in the FU for more that four years. One, Gerry Cox, left and returned off and on for more than a decade. I am pretty sure that everyone whom I coached at U-M graduated in four years.
Some FU members were not full-time students. I did not realize this at first.
Some of the people in the FU probably could not have met the entrance requirements at U-M. This was especially true of the novices without debate experience.
Almost all of the U-M debaters wanted to become lawyers, and, in fact, did. Most of the FU members had different ambitions.
There were roughly as many females as males in the FU. In my four years as an undergraduate at U-M there were two females, and none in my three years of coaching.

Here are my recollections of the debaters at Wayne State whom I can remember. In the first section are people who were already part of the Wayne State debate team when I arrived in 1977. They are in alphabetical order. In the next section are the freshmen in my first year, then people who arrived later (including a few IE performers), and finally people whom I remember but all or part of their names escape me.

Ruth Colwander¹ had been a novice in 1976-77. She had a job in 1977-78. This probably limited her participation a little, but she went to some tournaments. I remember working with her in practice rounds. I tried to get her to vary her emphasis in rebuttals in order to sell the most important argument. As described here, she was inducted into DSR-TKA in 1978 with my class. We performed the “Debbie Debater Doll” sketch together. I am sure that I embarrassed her when I went off-script, but I got the biggest laugh of the night. Even Ruth could not keep a straight face.

Ruth married Jack Kay in, I think, the summer of 1979, but she continued in the program.

I am embarrassed to report that I have no specific memories of Bob Conflitti². I am quite sure that he often hung around in the lounge. I can almost picture him.

I have a great many memories of Gerry Cox³. I wonder what the limit is on the word count in WordPress blog posts.

The first time that I saw Gerry was on one of my first ventures into the forensics lounge in 1977. He was obviously a lot older than the other people in the lounge. He looked like what he was, a somewhat overweight biker. He had dark curly hair and a beard. He had massive biceps⁴ that he was obviously quite proud of.

Gerry was regaling a group of people with a tale about his days in Texas. I don’t remember all of the details, but he and a group of his friends were sitting around drinking beer and shooting at armadillos, which he said were like rats in Texas.

In fact, the nine-banded armadillo is the official state small mammal of Texas.

This sounded like BS to me. I kept my peace, as I normally do in new situations, but as soon as I could I looked up armadillos in an encyclopedia. It verified that they were common in Texas. I later told Gerry about this, and he was somewhat insulted. When I reminded him that at the time I had never seen him before, he smiled and conceded the point.

Shortly thereafter, George called me to his office and told me that Gerry had been with the program for a long time. He was a licensed machinist, which was a big deal in Detroit. George said that Gerry took classes only for a semester or two. Then he unceremoniously hopped on his motorcycle and rode off somewhere. Each time that he returned both the university and the FU welcomed him back.

Gerry was from Kentucky. I assume that he came to Detroit to work as a machinist at some point in the sixties or seventies. I don’t know how he got interested in debate. He did love to talk.

In 1977-78 Gerry debated with Paul Slavin. think that they were both “seniors”, a less rigid concept than I was accustomed to. They mostly went to lower level or junior varsity tournaments. I am pretty sure that I accompanied them on at least one such outing, but my memories of most tournaments during this period are somewhat vague.

Gerry and Paul had a peculiar relationship. Gerry’s favorite routine during a practice round was to cry out ‘Kryptonite!” whenever he thought that Paul had made a blunder in his rebuttal. The implication was that SuperGerry would have prevailed in the contest if “Slave Dog” had not uncovered the one glowing green crystal that minimizes his super powers.

Gerry played in our Dungeons and Dragons group a few times, but he was not as serious about it as most of the regulars were. However, he was part of the group who drove out to visit Sue and me in Rockville, CT, in the summer of 1981. It may have even been his idea.

I don’t remember the occasion, but Gerry and one of his friends invited me out for a drink one evening. To my surprise we went to one of Detroit’s many topless bars. The only thing that I remember about it is that one of the performers balanced on one high heel, kicked her other leg up sharply, grabbed it with one hand, and played her thigh like a guitar.

After the first time that someone broke into our house in Detroit (described here), Gerry wanted to move in with us for a while and sleep on our waterbed. He said that he would bring his 9mm Luger with him. I declined his offer.

Gerry confided that over the years he had totaled two or three vehicles in crashes after nights of partying. In each case he had been within ten minutes of home, and in each case he walked away with only minor injuries. Trying to talk him out of driving home was always futile. He always insisted that he was fine, and he was … until he fell at the wheel.

Several years after I had left Wayne State Gerry and (I think) the friend from the topless bar story again drove to Connecticut to visit. They only stayed for a day or so. I remember them talking about having to roll back the odometer on the car before they sold it. It had something to do with the engine. I also recall driving them around the Rockville area for a small tour. They thought it was pretty nice, but Gerry’s friend, having seen no factories or office buildings, wondered where everyone worked. I have also sometimes wondered the same thing.

Several more years elapsed before Gerry called me again. By that time he had founded his own company to produced accurately machined parts using computers. He had hired Dennis Corder to write some administrative software for him using a pseudo-database product on a PC. The project was finished, but Gerry and Dennis had parted ways under less than amicable circumstances. He now needed to revamp the program for some reason. Gerry asked me if I could do it.

I told him that I might be able to do it, but I wouldn’t be able to do anything else. At the time we had a lot of projects going, and I definitely preferred to work on things with which I was familiar. Also, remote support was still problematic in those days.

Knee pads are easier to find than programmers.

Gerry asked me for advice on what to do. I told him that he should go to a sporting goods store and purchase a pair of knee pads. Then he should locate Dennis Corder, and get down on his knees and beg him to fix it. Even iff he found another programmer willing to help, the new guy would almost certainly want to rewrite the whole thing. I certainly would.

A few years after that Gerry invited Sue and me to come visit him in Kentucky for a big celebration of something to do with his company. We agreed to come. A short while after that Kent Martini, who (to my great surprise) had been working with Gerry in some capacity, called to tell us that Gerry had died in a car crash. Kent said that we could still come if we wanted to, but there would not be a public celebration. We went. Our very bizarre experience is described here.

Andre Debuschere was the antithesis of Gerry Cox. He was very thin, especially in the neck. This allowed his necktie to drop well below the waist before Trump made this an acceptable style.

Although he shared a surname with perhaps the most celebrated man in Detroit, Dave Debuschere, the relative that he bragged about was Napoleon III. He also claimed to be able to read Egyptian hieroglyphs. As far as I know no one ever went to the trouble of finding some for him to test this claim.

One day I was in the kitchen area of the forensics lounge reading an article in a magazine. Andre walked behind me and started making comments about something in the magazine. I politely asked him not to read over my shoulder because that is something that really annoyed me. He did it again, and I exploded in rage, something that I tended to do about once in a decade.

Kent Martini remarked, “Well, Andre, he did warn you.”

Andre was a reasonably good debater, but no on wanted to be his partner. Tom Harding mostly got the assignment.

I read in Don Ritzenheim’s thesis that Steve Fusach was an officer of the FU. I remember the name but nothing else.

Tom Harding was the invisible man of the FU. He was a smart guy and a good debater, but he insisted on taking his studies seriously. Since his major was pre-med, that meant that he actually studied quite a bit. So, Tom’s appearances in the lounge were few and far between.

I remember well the time that he entered when a group of us was engaging in good-natured speculation about something vaguely related to chemistry or botany or anatomy or something else that Tom was knowledgeable about, and we weren’t. He laid out the facts of the matter and silenced the room.

“Get out of here,” I yelled at him. “We were having a perfectly good argument before you butted in.” That time I was kidding.

Scott Harris⁷ arrived at the FU with very little high school experience, and he had only attended a few tournaments the previous year. Nevertheless, all the coaches recognized that he had as much talent as anyone. Most of my dealings with him are described in the blog about tournaments.

Scott’s parents were extremely religious. They were strict fundamentalists. So, he was not able to participate in extracurricular activities as much as he would have liked. He never played D&D with us, but I bet that he would really have enjoyed it.

Now really impress her by jumping across the creek while carrying both bags.

Scott was by far the best athlete in the FU. He could probably outdo everyone else at anything to do with sports. One of the most embarrassing moments of my life occurred the one time that I played golf with Scott and his dad. At one point we had to cross a small creek. Even though I was carrying my clubs I essayed to jump across it. I made it with an inch or two to spare. However, the weight of the clubs forced me to sit in the water. I had to play the rest of the round with wet trousers.

Scott was the only debater who learned how to throw cards. I mocked his technique, but he could throw them as far as I could, and I had made a study of it. He just picked up a deck and started flinging cards.

Scott’s most impressive ability was to flip a coin high into the air, catch it, slam it onto the back of his other hand, and call it heads or tails. He was always right because he tossed the coin in such a way that it did the same number of somersaults every time, and he checked whether it was heads or tails at the start.

It was obvious that Scott had all the tools. I would have been really disappointed if he had not turned out great. I got back in touch with him when by chance I heard him on this fantastic episode of Radiolab.

While I was at Wayne State, Nancy Legge mostly debated with Teresa Ortez. In March 1980 they won the National Junior Division Debate Tournament. I have no memory of this tournament at all. I was probably working with the four guys who had qualified for NDT that year. Nancy represented Wayne State in two NDTs after I left.

Nancy’s most memorable characteristic was her abhorrence of snakes. Whenever she visited our house we hastened to cover up Puca’s cage with towels. As long as no one ever mentioned him or any of his relations, she was fine.

Nancy often played D&D with us. Her primary character was a dwarf named Porpo. Most of thought that Nancy was in a rotten mood when she played, but actually it was Porpo who had a bad attitude.

While I knew her, Nancy had romantic entanglements with Gerry Cox and Dennis Corder.

Nancy was part of the group that drove to Connecticut to see Sue and me in the summer of 1981. She even stayed with us for a little while after the rest of the crew returned to Michigan. She did a little work for TSI that earned her the title “Executive Vice President of International Marketing”. If we paid her, she might have even been our first employee.

My most vivid memory of Teresa occurred just as the party for my thirtieth birthday was breaking up. She wanted to drive home, but Mike Craig and I did not think that she was in any condition to drive. We insisted that she sit on the couch in the living room and listen to us tell extremely boring stories. Our strategy worked. She fell asleep, awoke a few hours later, and drove home without any problem.

I also remember that I actually danced with Teresa that evening. I can easily count on one hand the number of times that I have been on a dance floor. So, this must have been special.

I saw Kent Martini⁹ once before I started coaching at Wayne state. He was debating in the final round of the state high school debate championship in 1976. His team from Royal Oak Kimball was on the affirmative. Kent was the first affirmative speaker. The opponents were twins from Belleville. I had been judging in the tournament, but I did not judge the finals. It was a pretty good debate, and Kent’s team one.

Kent later told me that it had been a pretty big upset. The two teams had debated several times. Kimball usually lost because Kent’s partner, Steve Yokich, had not been able to get through all the Belleville arguments in the 1AR. So, in the final round Steve and Kent switched positions because Kent could handle the “spread” better than Steve. It worked.

On one of the team’s trips to Camp Tamarack, which is described here, Kent went the extra mile for his team in the scavenger hunt. The item needed was a pair of blue jeans. On the other teams people scampered to their cabins to retrieve a pair. Kent calmly kicked off his shoes, doffed his blue jeans, and cast them on the pile. He then stood there in his tighty whiteys waiting for the next item.

I liked Kent a lot. If there was not a lot of work to be done, he could always come up with something to help while away the time on long car rides. Usually these involved voting on secret ballots about something. Then someone would count the ballots. For example, “Who on the team is the most …”

Kent lived with his mom, Dawn, until he graduated. She drove a gold Trans-Am with a huge black eagle on the hood. I addressed her as “Mrs. Martini” when I met her. She corrected me and told me just to call her Dawn. It did not occur to me at the time that I might be as close to her age as I was to Kent’s. Also, I had never heard Kent mention his dad; perhaps Dawn no longer used the name Martini.

Kent invited me and two other guys over to Dawn’s house to play a few rubbers of bridge. One of the guys was, I think, the best man at Kent’s wedding. I don’t remember anything else about the evening.

Kent got married to Linda Calo after he graduated in 1979. Evidently they had met briefly when Kent was passed out from excessive drinking. When he came to his senses he asked his future best man, “Who was that girl who helped me? She had great boobs.” Of course, this story was a big hit at the wedding reception.

Kent invited a bunch of people over to his apartment one evening. This must have been after he married Linda. He had a stack of Penthouse magazines. Each of us had to find a letter in the Penthouse Forum column and give a dramatic reading. My interpretation of a letter in which a cow or a sheep played a central role was judged the best. Everyone agreed that I had excellent posture.

I played golf with Kent at least twice. Once somewhere in the Detroit area with Jerry Bluhm. The other time was when Sue and I came to Kentucky.

My first year was the last at Wayne State for Debbie McCully¹⁰. She debated with several partners in 1977-78 before George named her and Scott Harris as Wayne State’s representatives at districts. They made it to nationals. These and other debate adventures are described here.

Debbie worked as a waitress at the Golden Mushroom restaurant on 10 Mile in Southfield. She arranged for the restaurant’s staff to prepare and serve a Chinese supper for the Christmas party in 1977.

I made one of the biggest mistakes of my life when, in Debbie’s presence, I mentioned that the registration on my car had expired and that I was not too worried about it. Shortly thereafter Debbie drove to school an unregistered car that belonged to her father. It was stolen from the parking garage, and a big mess ensued.

The lesson that I learned was that it was better to wait several decades before bragging about stupid decisions that I had made, even if I got away with them.

At some point in the year Debbie applied to Baylor’s speech department to be a graduate assistant. I wrote a letter of recommendation for her. I don’t know why she chose Baylor, a Baptist university in Waco, TX. She certainly did not ask my advice. George might have had an “in” there. At any rate she was accepted.¹¹

There was a slight problem. Although Debbie had been an active part of the FU for quite a few years, she had far too few credits to graduate in the spring term. Vince Follert and I worked with her to come up with a plan whereby she could fulfill Wayne State’s graduation requirements by the end of the summer. This entailed taking a full course load and signing up for and passing quite a few placement tests. It was a difficult assignment, to be sure, but no other approach seemed remotely feasible.

It turned out that she was less serious about this than Vince and I were. She went to classes for the first half of the summer. Then she reconnected with an old boyfriend and lost interest. I am not sure if she finished the summer classes, and I am pretty sure that she never took any placement tests.

For my thirtieth birthday party (details here) Debbie changed into a Wonder Woman costume at the end of her shift at the restaurant at which she worked and made the twenty-minute drive to our house in Detroit. I was quite impressed.

Paul Slavin mostly debated with Gerry Cox. He was from Bad Axe, MI, which is located in “the Thumb” of Michigan. I think that he was the only person whom I ever met from the Thumb.

I worked quite a bit with Paul and Gerry during my first year at Wayne State. At some point Paul told me that he was going to have to quit the team for financial reasons. I advised him to see George, whom I suspected of having access to resources for just such a situation. Paul didn’t want to do it at first, but he eventually did and stayed on the team

I did not really know Chris Varjabedian¹² very well. He had debated with Bill Hurley in 1978. They had qualified for the NDT. Bill then graduated. I saw Bill in the FU a few times.

Chris debated with Kent in the fall semester of 1978, but I never got to work with them or go to tournaments with them. Chris quit at some point that year, but he came back in 1979-1980 and debated with Scott Harris. They qualified for the NDT and lost in the octafinals.

George was very impressed with Chris. George told me that Chris understood “sign reasoning” better than any debater that he had coached. I cannot claim to understand the concept. Does “A is a sign of B” mean that B is a necessary condition for A. If so, why not say so? To me using the word “sign” seems mostly to be employed by people who can’t do the math or understand the statistics. Maybe that is what Chris figured out.

George adopted Scott and Chris for the entire 1979-1980 season and kept them under his wing. The rest of the coaching staff hardly got to see them. They did well, too, but the second team did almost as well. The debate season is described here.

We had two very talented novices that started their careers at Wayne state in the fall of of 1977, Mike Craig and Kevin Buchanan.

Mike Craig¹³ went to Royal Oak Kimball High School, the same school that Kent had attended. Even in his freshman year Mike hung around with Jo Anne Mendelson^.¹⁴

Mike really enjoyed playing D&D. He once remarked that he could envision himself playing D&D at 30, but he could not envision himself as a debater at 30. He came up with some really good ideas for both dungeons and characters. He also wrote a short comedic play that he showed around to everyone. It was very well done.

As a freshman Mike debated with Kevin Buchanan. I don’t think that I ever got to go to a tournament with them when they were partners. They were very good. Maybe we went to Novice Nationals together. I went to many tournaments at Northwestern over my six years of coaching.

Mike Craig was famous for his appearance on one of the television debates in which he argued that Christmas should be banned. That TV show is described here, as are his adventures at debate tournaments.

Kevin Buchanan attended Belleville High School. He debated with Mike Craig when he was a freshman at Wayne State. I don’t think that he debated in 1978-79, but he returned to the team in 1979-1980. His favorite saying was “the essence of putrescence”.

It was important to take whatever Kevin said with a grain of salt. He liked to tell stories just to see how people reacted. He was in a Speech 100 class that I taught. He gave his first speech on “Pseudo sciences”. He began the section on martial arts by casually mentioning “When I was in the marines …” I snorted at that, but no one else reacted at all. No chance. Jarheads committed for four years in those days. He could not possibly have been that old.

People didn’t say “Thank you for your service” in those days. If they had, I would surely have said it when he finished his speech. Would he have blushed?

Kevin claimed that he never paid for a pair of shoes. He wore them for a week or two. Then he took them back. Maybe.

There was a lot of gossip that Kevin was having an affair with Sheri Brimm. Kevin did nothing to stop the rumors. Maybe.

I think that most of the following people arrived at Wayne State in 1978 or later. I also included a few participants in IE. I did not work with them enough to have a clear idea of when they arrived.

I think that Al Acitelli¹⁵ was a freshman in 1979. He mostly debated with Mark Buczko, at least while I was at Wayne State.

Al was one of those who visited us in Rockville in the summer of 1981. He insisted on making spaghetti for us. We all thought that he meant that he would make a special sauce, but in fact he made the noodles by hand. It was good, but it seemed like a lot of effort to make something on which to pour sauce from a bottle.

I remember Sara Allen¹⁶ from one of those debate trips on which we arrived back in Detroit very late and very tired. I remember that she was the last one that I delivered to her house somewhere well north of 8 Mile. That still left me with a pretty long drive left back to the Wayne State Motor Pool and then my house.

My only clear recollection of her is that she was short and cute. Apparently she still is more than forty years later.

Mark Buczko¹⁷ debated with Al Acitelli. I think that George assigned me to work with them, but I don’t remember taking them to any tournaments.

Mark also liked to play D&D with us. He developen a character named Cnir Edrum who was an assassin by trade. He was surprised that I quickly recognized this as Murder Inc spelled backwards.

The problem with characters of the assassin class was that no one wanted them in the party. He tried to disguise himself, but his skills were seldom in demand by the characters who were looking for dungeons to explore. I concocted a few solo adventures for him in which someone gave him a contract for a hit.

Mark was in the group that drove out to Connecticut in 1981. He told me at some point that he was into rock climbing. He Corrected my misapprehension that rock climbers sometimes use shrubbery for hand or foot holds.

Dennis Corder¹⁸ was also a freshman in 1979-1980. He went to Belleville High and was a much bigger star than anyone else in his class at Wayne State. I think that he made it to the final round of the state tournament. George must have assigned a partner to him, but I don’t remember who it was. It might have been Nancy Legge. They were an item for a while.

Gerry Cox hired Dennis to design and implement administrative software for his machining business. Their relationship later soured. I don’t know the details.

Dave Debold¹⁹ went to high school at Royal Oak Kimball (like Mike Craig and Kent Martini). I think that he was a freshman in 1978-79. For most of the first year he debated with Kim Garvin. They also went out together for quite a while.

Dave and Scott Harris received a first round bid to the NDT in 1981. They made it to the quarterfinals.

Kim also qualified for the NDT in 1981 and 1982. Nancy Legge was her partner. I did not know her very well.

I think that Dorothy Giman²⁰ was a freshman in 1979-1980. I remember only her bright red hair and huge gazoingies. In a game of volleyball Dorothy was encouraged by Kevin Buchanan to “put your body into it.”

Roseann Mandziuk²¹ was one of the most successful performers in IE. She might have also debated a little. I went to at least one tournament with her.

I remember that she wrote and presented a prize-winning speech on human evolution.

Robin Meyers also was very successful in IE. In the spring of 1978 she got a little upset at me for not inviting her to Debbie’s Defilement Party, which is described here. Actually, I did not invite anyone. I just posted a notice on the bulletin board.

Robin might have debated a little at Wayne State. She was elected 2^nd VP of DSRTKA in 1978, a fact that escaped my notice at the time.

My primary association with Steve Rapaski was through pinochle. In 1980 there was usually a pinochle game in progress in the lounge. I don’t remember who started this activity, maybe Gerry Cox.

Steve Rapaski drove a rolling greenhouse like this one.

Steve was a horrible card player, so much so that I once coerced him into signing an affidavit in which he swore never to play pinochle again. Nevertheless he came to George’s pinochle party. The results are described here.

Steve drove to school in an AMC Pacer, that car with enormous windows. If the sun was out, the back seat was uninhabitable, even in the winter.

Like a lost puppy Steve Rapaski followed around a girl named Laura who lived in Gross Pointe, the fabulously wealthy community just east of Detroit. I don’t remember her last name. She was the only person from any of the Pointes that I ever met.

The smart money was also on Laura as the source of Vince Follert’s mysterious hickey.

I went to at least one tournament with John Ross. I think that it may have been at Wooster.. His partner was a young lady whose name I don’t remember. While we were strolling together between rounds, I mentioned to John that she had said that in the last round he had done the work of three men.

Shemp had a full-time job in *The Bank Dick*.

He fell for it. “Really? She said that?”

“Yeah,” I replied. “Larry, Moe, and Curly.”

John later ran in marathons. His time in the New York City Marathon was good enough to earn him a spot in the Boston Marathon.

I remember three other people fairly clearly, but I cannot recall their names.

I remember that I invited one of the debaters to sit next to me when I judged an elimination round at a novice or junior varsity tournament. After I had turned in my ballot, but before the result was announced, I asked him what he thought of the debate. He insisted that the affirmative team had won. I predicted a 3-0 decision for the negative, and I was right. The affirmative had completely botched one critical argument, but this guy missed it.

He also played the Michigan Lotto, a horrendous investment that only pays out half of what it takes in. He told me that he could beat “boxing’ three numbers. So, he would pick two numbers, say 5, 6, and 8. He would then buy tickets for 56, 58, 65, 68, 85 and 86. He always bought six tickets in this set pattern. I tried to explain that his six numbers had the same odds as buying any other six other numbers, but he couldn’t understand that either.

I remember taking a fairly large group of people to a tournament somewhere. We stayed in a motel for one night. I offered to buy KFC for everyone. One woman was a vegetarian. So, I brought her with me on the trip to KFC. On the way we stopped at a supermarket. She picked out what she needed for supper, and I paid for it from the budget.

When we returned we all ate together in one of the rooms. Then we all goofed on Wonder Woman on TV.

My last memory is my worst one. A tall bombastic guy who did IE was in a Speech 100 class that I taught. He missed a speech and never made it up. That automatically dropped his final grade one and a half letters. He also obviously did not study much for the final. I gave him the D that he deserved.

He also borrowed a book from me and never returned it.

1. In 2021 Ruth is still active in debate and forensics in Michigan. Her LinkedIn page is here.

Middletown, NY, is close to Port Jervis, NJ.

2. Bob received his JD from Georgetown. I am pretty sure that in 2021 he is an Attorney in Middletown, NY. His LinkedIn page lists his role as “Counsel to the District Attorney at Orange County District Attorney’s Office”.

3. Gerry died in an automobile accident in the late eighties or maybe early nineties. At the time he owned a company that produced machined parts for auto dealers. It was located in his family’s home town in Kentucky.

4. Gerry told me on the telephone in the eighties that he started running to lose weight. He was aghast when the first pounds to go were in his arms. For some reason he ran on his toes, a poor technique that produced painful shin splints. I gave him Dr. Kronkheit’s famous advice: “Don’t do that.”

5. In 2021 Andre is apparently an attorney in Sterling Heights, MI..

6. In 2021 Tom is evidently a psychiatrist in Traverse City, MI.

7. In 2021 Scott is still a revered coach of the University of Kansas debate team. They won NDT (again) in 2018. In 2020 he was ranked as the fourth-best coach and second-best judge in the entire county. A summary of his academic accomplishments can be found here.

8. Nancy Legge is a professor of Communications at Idaho State University. Go Bengals! You can read about her career at ISU here.

9. Kent at some point around 1990 started a business providing training and other types of consulting for businesses. His FaceBook page is here. He told me that he always got on airplanes with the disabled people. His line was, “I need just a little more time to board.”

10. Debbie (McCully) Stavis is the CEO of a company that offers financial guidance to families in the Houston area. The website is here.

11. I can understand why the Baylor debate team would have wanted her as a coach, but I cannot comprehend how the school would have accepted her as a graduate student. Surely someone must have glanced at her transcript.

12. In 2021 Chris is an attorney. His LinkedIn page is here.

13. Mike Craig is a professional writer in 2021. His primary topic seems to be poker. He lives in Arizona. His Twitter handle is @MikeCraigIsAmok. His Facebook page is here. I can’t believe that I know two professional writers. One writes about beer and golf; the other writes about poker.

14. How exciting is this? Mike and Jo Anne are still married. She is Director of Faculty and Instruction at the New School for the Arts & Academics in Arizona. Her Facebook page can be seen here.

15. Al Acitelli lives in Sarasota, FL, in 2021. You can read about him here. Search for his name and then click on his picture.

16. Sara’s website is here.

17. I am pretty sure that in 2021 Mark resides in California, perhaps in San Pedro, in 2021. He called me on the telephone once when Sue and I still lived in Rockville. I don’t remember why.

18. Dennis eventually became a lawyer in Florida. He took his own life in 2003. All that I know about the story is what is written here.

19. Dave went to law school at Harvard. He is a lawyer in Oakton, VA, in 2021. His LinkedIn page is here.

20. In 2021 Dorothy is apparently know as Dorothy Small. She is a realtor. Her LinkedIn page is here.

21. Rosanne earned a PhD in speech at Iowa. In 2021 she is a professor at Texas State University. Her LinkedIn page is here.

1977 Summer: Transition to Detroit

Posted on March 13, 2021 by Mike

Our own house! Continue reading →

In 1977 anyone (well, there probably were restrictions by some landlords based on ethnicity) could rent a really nice house in Detroit for an incredibly small amount of money. White people were abandoning houses that they cold not sell and moving to the suburbs in droves. We found a really nice house not too far from my new employer, Wayne State University, and not too far from Sue’s employer, Brothers Specifications.

Always a handy thing to have in the house, even if no one ever uses it.

I do not remember how we got all of our stuff to our new house. Presumably we rented a truck again. The most onerous task was the disassembling and reassembling of the barnboard shelves. We had added very little by way of furniture in the nearly three years that we lived in Plymouth.

This house also came with appliances, but like the apartment in Plymouth it did not have a cast-iron treadle-driven Singer sewing machine. Fortunately, Sue still had the one that we brought from Connecticut. The pets, of course, came in our cars.

The house at 12139 Chelsea was all that we could ask for. It had a living room, a dining room, a kitchen, two bedrooms (one we eventually converted into an office), a bathroom,and a full basement with a very large U-shaped bar. We acquired some second-hand bar stools and a couch or two for that last area.

And we only had to pay $125 per month!

The house had four things that we had never had to deal with before:

Only the faintest indication of the alley remains. The garages and dumpsters are gone. Our house occupied the bare space between the houses.

A yard. It was not a huge yard, but the grass (or, more likely, weeds) needed mowing every couple of weeks. I bought a cheap power lawnmower. I don’t even think that it was self-propelled.
An alley in the back. Detroit’s housing areas were, in large part laid out in grids. Many streets, like Chelsea, were long and straight. Between two parallel streets, in our case Chelsea and Wilshire, ran a one-lane unpaved alley.
A dilapidated wooden garage that faced the alley. Most houses had them, but no one used them to house the cars or anything else of appreciable value. Parking was free on the street.
A yellow steel dumpster in the alley near the garage. It was about four feet wide, four feet tall, and three feet wide, which was more than enough for us. The lid was made of rubber or rubbery plastic.

The city had distributed the shiny new dumpsters to the residents free of charge. Their purpose was to facilitate for the garbage men the weekly collection of refuse. Just as importantly, unlike cheap plastic garbage cans the new dumpsters were 100% rat-proof! Detroit had had a serious rat problem in the early seventies, but the new dumpsters promised to cut the rodents off from their main source of food—human garbage.

Unfortunately, the new dumpsters proved to be very tempting targets for youngsters with M-80’s. The reverberation in the steel container amplified the sound of the explosion, and the sight of the plastic lids being blow off their hinges was very satisfying. Soon, most of the dumpsters were lidless, and it was business as usual for the rat community. The dumpsters probably did make it a little easier for the garbage collectors.

We had to adjust to a few things in our new location. There was a small market only a block away on Roseberry Avenue. It reminded me of the one run by Dobie Gillis’s father, Herbert. It was very convenient if we needed to pick up something for supper. However, more substantial grocery shopping was a problem. The local stores had armed guards near the front door, and, to be honest, I sometimes wondered what these guys did when they were not on duty. Moreover, the selection at them was not very good. We usually drove about twenty miles to a supermarket on the eastern edge of the city.

Our neighborhood was more than tolerable when we moved in. When we moved in there was, as I remember, one house that was boarded up on our block of Chelsea, but it was way on the other end of the street. Our neighbors—about evenly split between Black and white—all seemed pretty nice. Across the street from us were were a retired auto worker and his two sisters living next to a very nice Black family.

My commute to Wayne State was not too bad. I could either take the Ford Freeway or just take Warren all the way. The problem with the Ford Freeway was that the entrance ramps were too short. During the rush hour just getting onto the highway could be frustrating and dangerous. Parking was, of course, an issue. When I arrived early enough I could usually find a spot on a side street within a few blocks of Manoogian.

Sue’s commute to work was much easier than her previous drive from Plymouth.

The best thing about Detroit was the selection of restaurants. Entire sections of town were devoted to different types of cuisine, and the food in the restaurants there was exceptional. We frequented restaurants in Mexican Village and Greektown. On Gratiot, not far from our house, was a small restaurant that offered freshly cooked roasts (ham, pork, beef, chicken, turkey) that were sliced to-order. It also had a wide selection of fresh (or at least freshish) vegetables. It was very much like a home-cooked meal without the time or effort.

Some things about Detroit definitely gave us pause. A fair number of commercial properties—including the only nearby hotel—were fenced in, and the fences were topped with piano wire. Cashiers at many stores were separated from customers by bullet-proof glass. Customers put their money in a tray or slot at the base of the glass.

A welcome respite from the life of the city was, fortunately, nearby. I kept up my jogging throughout my time in Detrot, and one of my favorite places was Chandler Park, about a mile south of our house.

I once made the mistake of trying to reduce the wear and tear on my joints by running on the grass in the park. I stepped in a hole and twisted my ankle badly. I had a long limp back home that day.

1977-1980 Part 3A: Debate at Wayne State: The Program

Posted on March 12, 2021 by Mike

George’s way. Continue reading →

Having spent seven years debating against or coaching against the people from Wayne State University, I considered myself fairly knowledgeable about the debate program there on 1977. I knew that George Ziegelmueller had run the show for many years. In the mid-sixties the school produced some top debaters, but I had not been favorably impressed with them in more recent times. I did not realize until very recently that Dr. James Klumpp had directed the program during part of that time.

I met with George in late spring or early summer of 1977. His office was in Manoogian Hall on the fifth floor. The accommodations were MUCH nicer than at Michigan. The offices of the professors in the speech department surrounded a large open area. Across the hall was an even larger open area that served as the lounge for the Forensics Union, the official term for the competitors in debate and individual events (IE). It was at least ten times as large as the U-M debate office. It contained at least one lunch table, a sink, a refrigerator, several couches, and a few work areas.

George explained that all of the students at WSU commuted. They needed a place where they could hang around between classes to study or work on debate.

The Forensics Union, which everyone except George called the FU, also had its own bulletin board and trophy cases just outside of the lounge. At Michigan the trophies were piled up in a corner of the debate office. No one kept track of them.

George was aghast to learn that I had carted the U-M debaters around the country in Greenie to save money. The motor pool at Wayne State lent the FU cars. We were, however, required to wash them before we turned them in. This was a good deal for the team, of course, but we often returned from tournaments very late at night, and usually we delivered people to their homes, which were scattered throughout Detroit and its suburbs. I considered it a real pain to wash the car, especially in the winter.

The chicken always looked good at George’s favorite restaurant.

The debaters were not given a per diem for food. Instead, the coach chose the restaurant, and we all ate together. The coach was supposed to use subtlety to indicate what the monetary limit was. George always said something like, “The grilled chicken looks good.” Students could buy snacks with their own money, but no one was allowed to go over the limit to buy a more expensive meal.

The staff in my first year (1977-78) consisted of Jack Kay¹ (George’s right-hand man), Pam and Billy Benoit (my office-mates), and the residents of the other office for George’s graduate assistants—Vince Follert, John Pfeiffer, and Steve D’Agostino. Pam, John, and Steve worked with the IE team. The rest of us coached debaters.

The staff for 1978-79 was almost the same. Steve had departed, and Sheri Brimm had been hired.

My last year of coaching was 1979-80. Vince had finished his masters and gone to Western Illinois. Jack Kay departed for Nebraska. I don’t remember if John Pfeiffer was still there. Tuna Snider became George’s right-hand man. Gerry Cox and Ron Lee joined the staff. Ron’s wife Karen may have also helped out. Ken Haught may have worked with the IE people.

George explained his philosophy to me. In order to justify such nice facilities and such a large staff, it was important that the team keep up “the numbers”. So, it was necessary to undertake a massive recruitment effort in September. The people recruited had little or no experience with debate. We held staff meetings in order to assign reasonable pairings. The objective was to get as many people as possible to compete at the three-round novice tournament in October sponsored by the Michigan Intercollegiate Speech League (MISL). This was the tournament in which I had made my collegiate debating debut in 1966. As a coach I had shunned it as a waste of time. However, I would have taken novices who lacked high school experience if I had had any.

For much of September and October the coaches were busy with these new recruits. When the tournament arrived, we loaded up several vans with novices and drove to the site. Our most fervent hope was that every pair won at least one debate. Usually at least one team did not meet that standard. There were some tears.

After that tournament quite a few of the novices dropped out of the program, but at least they had one experience of real debates. George always found at least one more tournament for those who continued with the program.

The rest of the tournament schedule mostly consisted of tournaments fairly close to Detroit. George tried to find places in which everyone could compete. He especially liked tournaments that had a varsity division and a novice division or ones with both IE and debate. I even was called on to judge a few IE rounds, not my most enjoyable experience.

The top varsity teams went to slightly higher-level tournaments, but Wayne State did not attend the swings on either coast and did not go to Georgetown and some of the other top tournaments. This attitude changed a little in the second and third year when our records improved.

The blank schedule looked something like this.

One of my assignments in 1977-78 was to schedule practice rounds, which served as the primary venue for coaching at Wayne. At the beginning of the semester all the coaches and debaters turned in cards with their schedules. They marked off the periods in which they had classes or were otherwise unavailable. Some, for example, had part-time jobs.

I found working with the cards to be clumsy. I photocopied a blank schedule onto a group of overlays used for an overhead projector. I then copied the data from cards onto the overlays with an erasable marker. To find the free periods for each foursome I just had to stack their overlays. In an hour I could easily generate the schedule for the week, and it always met George’s specifications . Previously people had labored over this task for an enormous amount of time and made mistakes.

Vince was assigned this task in 1978-79. He asked me how I did it. I showed him. I don’t remember who was responsible in 1979-80.

Before leaving for the first tournament in which I was in charge I asked for a short meeting with George. I inquired about a few of the team’s policies, including what to do if we were involved in a traffic accident. He said that no one had ever asked him about this. He thought for a moment and then said that he supposed that I should call him.

I could hardly believe that no previous coach had worried about this. Maybe it was understood that George was ultimately responsible for everything in this program. I just hoped that I had not jinxed the program by bringing up the subject.

George was understandably much more interested in public relations than I was. He sent debaters and/or IE people to give speeches or put on debates for various organizations fairly often. I was involved in a few of these, including moderating short debates for a local television station. I even made a commercial for our program.

In one way the Wayne State team was somewhat backward. George probably had a pretty good idea of the way that many judges evaluated debates, but the team lacked a systematic way of keeping the ballots. I showed George how I had stored all of U-M’s ballots sorted by judge in an accordion file. I asked if I could have the ballots when he was finished with them. He agreed.

Wayne State belonged to a national debate fraternity, Delta Sigma Rho-Tau Kappa Alpha (DSR-TKA). U-M had also belonged, but as far as I could tell, the school never really participated. George took the organization quite seriously. Wayne always attended the DSR-TKA nationals in March, and every spring there was a banquet in Manoogian. New members (like myself in 1978) were inducted and expected to provide entertainment.

The Forensics Union sponsored several extracurricular activities while I was there. Every year there was a Christmas party, the DSR-TKA banquet, a week-long summer institute for high school debaters, a trip to Camp Tamarack, a research trip, a fund-raising event of some sort, and, one year, a pinochle tournament. At U-M we had nothing similar to any of these.

1. My recollections of each of the other coaches are in a separate blog.

1974-1977 Living in Plymouth, MI

Posted on March 10, 2021 by Mike

Life outside of U-M, in Plymouth and beyond. Continue reading →

I can remember a lot about the three years that Sue and I lived in our apartment on Sheldon Rd. in Plymouth, but in some cases the chronology is a little fuzzy. I have consulted with Sue on many of these items, but grey areas persist.

The area north of 845 Sheldon Rd. has greatly changed since we left. The train tracks were, I think, near what is now called Beech St. The houses on that road and the large cul-de-sac on the left did not exist when we lived there.

One strange and memorable aspect of life in that apartment concerned light bulbs. The train tracks just to the north of the house were, in those years, quite active. Long freight trains rumbled through at a rapid pace day and night. Whenever a train passed, the entire building shook as if in a mild earthquake. Nothing was ever damaged except our incandescent light bulbs. We did not have a great number of lamps, but we routinely needed to replace bulbs at least monthly.

Fortunately, our electric company, Detroit Edison, had a policy of providing free light bulbs¹ to its customers. So, we would just pick up a couple at their local store every time that we were in the vicinity.

Pets: We brought Puca, Sue’s boa constrictor, to Plymouth from Connecticut. He lived in his cage in the bookshelves in the living room throughout our time in Plymouth.

Having a snake means that one must also have a supply of animals to feed it. We fed Puca mice. We found a very nice pet store in Northville, the town immediately north of Plymouth. It was only a ten-minute drive unless, of course, a train was coming through.

On our first visit we bought a few mice to feed to Puca. We needed a place to keep them; he never ate more than one. We bought a fish tank with a lid of wire mesh. We also needed some wood shavings for the floor, a water bottle, and some Purina Mouse Chow².

The athleticism of the mice amazed me. They looked fat and slow, but their appearance was deceptive. Any mouse could easily jump from the floor of the cage to the lid—a leap of about a foot. It could at the same time whip around and grab the lid with all four paws in one smooth motion. They appeared to just will themselves up.

When Puca was like this it was safe to feed him. Only the S-shaped coiled part strikes. In this position he could only strike something an inch or so away from his head.

Keeping a few mice around was acceptable as long as Puca was eating. However, he was unpredictable in that regard. We knew that boa constrictors generally hibernated in the winter. They drank a little water, but they were very lethargic. Puca’s cage had a heat lamp, but it seemed that he somehow knew when it was time to hibernate.

Snakes can unhinge their jaws. They can swallow animals that are much larger than one might expect.

We expected Puca to be hungry pretty much all of the time in the other three seasons, but that was not always the case. Fairly often he refused to eat.

The thing about mice is that if you have a male and a female, you almost always have quite a few more before you know it. Although they are born blind and hairless, mice nurse for only twenty days. They can be fertile at an age of four to six weeks. The gestation period is only twenty days. The litter size can be up to thirteen! Pregnant mice can barely walk on the last few days. One of our mice, named Mellow, had a litter of twelve, and all of the pups survived.

So, we soon needed more cages. We bought a twenty-gallon tank with a lid of wire mesh and a Deluxe Habitrail. We acquired a small wire cage that we used to isolate pregnant females. Fortunately it is easy to determine the sex of mice, and so I was generally able to keep the breeding down. However, over one winter our mouse population still rose to fifty-three.

I kept careful records of the mice. I was not doing research. I just likes to keep records. I assigned a name to each mouse and gave him/her a file card that documented date of birth or purchase, appearance (I tried to buy mice with interesting colors and patterns), parentage, and date fed to Puca (or other demise).

Occasionally a mouse escaped. I chased the each fugitive until I had it cornered. Then I picked it up by the tail. Their only weakness was their inability to hide their tails, and I never gave up.

Once a mouse on the lam ran—I swear that I saw this happen—through the wire cage that we used as a maternity ward. Less than a half inch separated the vertical bars on this cage, but the mouse did not even seem to slow down when he passed between them.

To feed Puca I would grab a mouse by the tail. I would wait for an occasion in which he seemed active but not on the prowl. He would almost always flick his tongue, his best sense, whenever I opened the door to the cage. If he was interested in eating he would slowly stalk the mouse. When he struck he seldom missed. He then squeezed the life out of the mouse and swallowed it head-first. If he was skinny (which he usually was), you could see the mouse move through his body.

Was I afraid of Puca? No, not at all. We sometimes took him out, but we never let him roam. He was too good at hiding, and once he got himself wrapped around something, it was very difficult to pry him loose. My biggest fear was that he would somehow get into our heater.

Actually, I was more afraid of the mice than Puca. Puca struck at my arm once. It felt like getting punched. His teeth also made small puncture wounds, but there was not a lot of pain. The wounds did not last long.

This is the recipe box that contained cards with the details for each mouse.

I was also bit by a mouse once, and it was MUCH worse. I was holding the little critter by the tail, as I had done dozens of times. This one must have had great abs because he whipped his head up to my hand and glommed onto the loose skin between my thumb and forefinger with all four of his oversized front teeth. The bite really hurt, and he would not let go no matter how much I shook my hand. I whacked my hand up against a wall three times before he let go. When he hit the floor he sped off, but eventually I caught him.

The area of the bite was sore for a few days, but there was no permanent damage.

Our Charlie was much better looking than Charlie Haggers.

Sue and I often drove to the pet store in Northville even when we had no need of mice. We looked at all the potential pets for sale there. In 1976 we decided to buy a guinea pig. We picked out a Peruvian (long hair) with a very interesting color that involved a mix of silver and light brown hair. We named him after the Charlie Haggers³ character on Mary Hartman, Mary Hartman, which we watched every night in 1976-1977. The guinea pig’s full name was Carlos Cavia y Vega, but we called him Charlie.

In those days I loved to bake in the sun in the backyard of the apartment house. During the summer of 1976 I brought Charlie with me outside, where I would liked to read a book or work on something. I had removed the bottom and lid to a large cardboard box to provide Charlie with an open-air fenced in place to enjoy the outdoors. It may sound boring, but this array of fresh edible greens was like paradise to a guinea pig.

This photo of Charlie doesn’t do him justice. His coat was very nice when he was not all wet like this.

In the apartment we kept Charlie in a twenty-gallon fish tank for a while. I decided to build a cage for him and a potential family to fit on the barnboard shelves. It was a split-level, and it featured a ramp that, when lowered, let them roam in the living room and return home when they wanted. They were very well-behaved. They were not fast; their only defense mechanism in the wild was to hide in a hole or cave, and, to tell the truth, these long-haired guinea pigs had not been in the wild in many generations.

I thought that it would be nice to take Charlie for “walkies”, as Barbara Woodhouse called them. Charlie had very short legs, of course. I did not anticipate that we would cover a lot of ground. I bought a very cheap leash for Charlie, and he did not seem to mind it. I put the leash on him and carried him outside. He made a beeline for the nearest dandelion. He spent a few minutes there until he had devoured all of the greens. He then moved to the next dandelion about six inches away, and he spent the next few minutes chomping on the delights that it had to offer. I terminated our walkie without ever doing more than shuffling my feet.

When the guinea pig mansion was completed, Sue and I decided to get Charlie a companion. Her name, of course, was Loretta. We decided on the name before we ever departed for the pet store.

As soon as we reached the store we walked to the section in which they kept the guinea pigs. They usually had between five and fifteen of them, a very good selection. Most people do not realize that guinea pigs whistle when they get excited. I was quite adept at emulating a guinea pig whistle, and I always exhibited this talent at the store. Pretty soon the whole clan would get in the act. All of the customer would come over to the guinea pig area to witness the excitement.

Loretta, with her three-toned face and white torso, was at least as cute as her namesake (when she dried off). Also, my arms were never as hairy as they look here.

We picked out a suitable Loretta and brought her home with us. She got along fine with Charlie, and before too long she had a litter of three.

Guinea pigs and mice are both rodents, but the similarity ends there. Loretta carried her babies for about two months. The last few days we could see them moving around inside her. They came out with their eyes ope, a full set of teeth, and beautiful coats. By the time that we saw them they were on their feet and moving about.

Another important difference between mice and guinea pigs: The best way to pick up mice is by the tail. However, NEVER pick up a guinea pig by the tail; its eyes will fall out.

Guinea pig babies certainly must rank with the cutest animals ever. When we let down the ramp Loretta would go for a walk in the living room, and the babies followed her in a line nose-to-tail. To top it off they all made what I called “monk-monk” noises. I don’t know how else to describe them. Adults never made these noises. I am positive that Sue took some photos of this furry little train, but I cannot find them.

The big trip: Sue and I took no vacations during the years that we lived in Plymouth. In the fall of 1976 we learned that Patti Lewonczyk and Tom Corcoran were getting married in Newington, CT, on January 7, 1977. They invited us to the wedding, and we decided to go. We planned to fly to Kansas City⁵ to spend Christmas with my family in Leawood, and then fly back to Hartford. We then would drive to Enfield to celebrate a late Christmas and New Year’s with Sue’s family. Then we would return to Michigan after the wedding.

I don’t honestly remember too much about the trip to KC, but Sue took a number of photos. My sister Jamie was apparently not there. She was nineteen or twenty at the time. I think that she had left college and moved somewhere. She also got married around this time if my math is correct. Father Joe drove down from Kelly, KS.So, there were six of us (counting Molly the dog) for Christmas.

From the photos it appears that Sue and I spent most of our time at my parents’ house playing with Molly, whom I have always considered to be Jamie’s dog. My dad, who had no use for live animals of any description, was forced into several pictures that included Molly.

My parents and I certainly attended mass on Christmas day. I am almost positive that I was still going to church regularly in late 1976. If not, I definitely was not ready to tell my parents. Sue might have attended out of courtesy to my parents. I can’t think of any other reason for her to be wearing such a nice dress.

The whole experience was more than a little awkward; things were always awkward in that house. My parents were both devout Catholics from birth. They had raised me to be one, too, but, after a very promising start, I failed to meet their expectations. They never said anything, but it was in the air.

Two young guinea pigs and Sue’s present for Betty.

From the top: Loretta in her split-level pad, Charlie on his hind legs sniffing around in the 20-gallon tank, and their two offspring in a wire cage that I don’t recognize.

From KC we flew back to Metro Airport in Detroit.

Shortly thereafter we drove to Enfield in Sue’s Dodge Colt. We must have gone through Ohio and Pennsylvania because we brought with us several guinea pigs—Charlie, Loretta, and some of their offspring. They occupied the back seat in at least two cages, including the split-level house that I built for them.

I have almost no recollection at all of this part of the visit. Sue’s photographs indicate that gifts were exchanged, and the guinea pigs always seemed to be right in the middle of the festivities.

Snow at the church. That may be the legendary Hergmobile.

Although Tom and Patti were not very religious, their nuptials were performed at the Catholic church in Newfield. That was what people whose parents were Catholic did in the seventies. We attended the ceremony, but I don’t remember anything about it. In the Catholic church the wedding ceremonies are generally part of a mass. So, a large portion of the time was devoted to the usual rites.

Many of our friends at the Hartford were there, and, as far as I know, they all attended the reception. I only remember one detail. At the meal Sue and I were seated near Jim and Ann Cochran. Someone asked me about what I had been doing. I told them how thrilled that Wayne, Mitch, and I were the previous year to make it to the National Debate Tournament in Boston. I also probably told them about Don and Stewart. I may have told a few debate stories, too.

An hour or so after the meal Ann came up to me and said, “You don’t even know what you’ve got, do you?”

I didn’t think I had anything, but my last physical was when I left the Army almost five years earlier. Before I could relay this information, she put her arms around my neck and planted a huge smacker on my face. You could have knocked me over with a feather. Later, I saw her sweet talking a guy that I had never met.

I think that there must have been a second round of festivities at the 345 Club. Quite a few photos show people without suits and ties in rooms with old wallpaper and antebellum furniture.

Scott Otermat in the foreground and Tom Corcoran with the drink.

Damon Panels, Someone, Scott Otermat,
and the Cochrans.

The following photos are at the 345 Club.

Fashion note: Yes, there was probably still a suit in my closet, and I certainly had some ties. However, as an impoverished graduate student, I was well within my rights to wear to any “formal occasion” my trusty corduroy jacket over a bulky wool sweater. Besides, it was cold.

The last forty or so miles were through the Pocono Mountains.

The first half of the drive back to Plymouth was something of an adventure. As we reached the northern section of the Pocono Mountains it started to snow. Thereafter we saw very few cars. Sue was driving, and I was nervous. At the time this was the scariest drive I had ever been on, but that record lasted less than a month.

We finally arrived at a motel near Scranton, and we obtained a room. The motel had a no-pets policy, but we snuck the guinea pigs and their cages into the room. All four had long coats, but they were not used to cold weather.

It was sunny and bright the next morning, and the drive to Plymouth was easy.

Sue’s jobs: Sue’s first job after we arrived in Plymouth in 1974 was a very convenient one. It was in the center of Plymouth, only a few blocks from our apartment. The company was a business association for insurance companies in Michigan. I am not sure what her responsibilities entailed. She was called a “correspondent”.

Sue liked this job, but her employers considered her a potential rabble-rouser. Unions were still very big in Michigan, and management did not want anyone who might undertake to bring one to the organization. They asked her to leave.

She found a job pretty quickly with a company named Michigan Basic. This company developed software for IBM mini-computers, such as the System/3. Sue’s boss’s name was Chuck Glore. Sue learned from him how to program in RPG (Report Program Generator).

I don’t remember where the office was, but I recall accompanying Sue there on a few evenings or weekends. I was very interested in the concept of computers that a small company could program themselves.

After a while, Sue and Chuck had a falling out over something. It might have been because of a recession in the auto industry. Since nearly every company in southeast Michigan was heavily dependent on the auto companies, at least indirectly, all businesses suffered. At any rate, Sue was back in the job market, but she now had a marketable skill.

She took a job as a placement for an employment agency. In many ways it was a perfect job for Sue. She has always loved to talk on the phone, she enjoys introducing people to one another, and she really believed that there was a seat for every butt.

Unfortunately, the local economy being what it was at the time, there were far more butts than seats. Sue often came back to the apartment crying in frustration.

One of the few thriving companies in Detroit was Brothers Specifications. As “white flight” took hold in Detroit a lot of fairly nice houses were abandoned. The federal department of Housing and Urban Development hired the company to inspect the abandoned houses and to assess the cost, if any, of making the houses habitable. The employment agency that Sue worked for had been contacted by Frank Yee, the computer guy at Brothers. Sue tried to convince him to hire one of her job-seekers. He told her that he would rather hire her than the applicant whom she was representing.

Sue took Frank up on his offer. She liked this job a lot. She got along well with the people there, and there was a very active social life, which was right up Sue’s alley. The details and many photos will be posted in the Detroit section of the blog.

Visitors: Sue has told me that her peripatetic grandmother, Molly Locke, visited our apartment and slept on the waterbed. She was on a trip to western Michigan to visit the family of her son Bob Locke or on the way back to Enfield. I must have been away on a debate trip. She slept on our waterbed but did not enjoy it much. This visit probably occurred in the spring or fall. I would have known about it in the summer, and tourism in Michigan in winter is seldom advisable.

Sue also told me that her female cousins (her Uncle Bob’s daughters) also visited her while I was on a debate trip.

Mark (?) is on the waterbed. Jamie is sitting on the floor looking at the Mean Reserves album. I am probably sitting on a kitchen chair. We are all facing the television set.

I reckon that our other visitors arrived in late winter or early spring of 1977. My sister Jamie drove up with, I think, her new husband Mark. I remember absolutely nothing about this visit, but Sue took a photo of them, and I am in the picture. I suspect that we talked mostly about our pets. We were very serious pet owners at the time.

They stayed overnight on the waterbed. I think that they left the next day.

Entertainment: Sue has always loved live music. She found a bar named The Crows Nest inside the Mayflower Hotel, which was right in the center of Plymouth. It often featured live musicians. She had two favorite singers, a blonde whose name was Jane or Janet, and Elaine Philpot, who had darker hair and claimed to be 5’12” tall.

Elaine had an interesting song that she used for sing-alongs. The title is “Piccolomini”⁶. Here are the lyrics:

Piccolomini Piccolomini Piccolomini Picco-
Lomini Piccolomini Piccolomini Piccolomini Pi-
Ccolomini Piccolomini Piccolomini Piccolomini 
(repeat faster and faster until totally out of breath).

I remember Elaine best for her pet waterfowl named Kensington. I thought of him as a large duck; Sue remembers a goose. She is probably right.

Whatever he was, he enjoyed biting people’s bare legs. He brazenly walked up to strangers, turned his head ninety degree, opened his beak and thrust at the exposed flesh. When he hit the target, he twisted his head back to the upright position before releasing. This really hurt.

Sue photographed the RMSB playing hard and fast at Floyd’s in Ann Arbor.

Our other favorite hangout was a bar in the center of Ann Arbor called, if memory serves, Floyd’s. We went there several times to listen to the Red Mountain String Band, a bunch of people who occasionally came up to God’s country to perform before returning to “that school down south” in Columbus. At least once Don Huprich joined us at Floyd’s.

This was from an article in the OSU newspaper about the group wanting to play in prisons.

They were very good musicians. The leader, Larry Nager⁶, was also very funny. We always sat quite close to the band. I asked Larry once to specify the location of the Red Mountains. His answer disappointed me a little. He admitted that they were a figment of the imagination. In his position I would have made something up.

Cards: I think that I got interested in card magic and card throwing while watching Ricky Jay⁷ on the Tonight Show. He performed a hilarious trick called The Lethal Four-Card Fist. He made Johnny Carson put on a studded mitt designed by a goaltender in hockey. Then he gave Johnny a banana to hold in his gloved hand. He began a long tale about the origin of the technique of the four-card fist (one-card between each finger and one between the thumb and forefinger), which he attributed to Somebody “the heathen”. In the middle of his patter who once slew five separate assailants when he was apparently unarmed. In the midst of this patter he whirled and threw all four cards at the banana HARD. At least one or two definitely struck the banana or the glove.

Afterwards Johnny examined the banana and remarked that the attack did not appear to be very lethal. There was not even a scratch on it. Ricky sternly reproved him for the plebeian mistake of judging a book by its cover. He then explained the art of ubiwasi that he had learned from the inside back cover of Superman DC comics. With one finger an ordinary man can bring an assailant with a single finger without leaving a mark.

Ricky advised Johnny to peel the banana carefully. The fruit of the banana fell onto the carpet in five neat pieces. Even with no training I could figure out how he did the trick, but his presentation was flawless.

I purchased Jay’s outstanding book, Cards as Weapons. I did not use Ricky’s throwing technique; I invented my own, in which I compensated for my rag arm with a method that allowed me to snap my shoulder, elbow wrist, and finger joints in rapid succession. I threw one thousand cards a day for the better part of one summer. It was a minor miracle that I did not do permanent damage.

I once threw a playing card forty yards outdoors against the wind. That’s ten yards less than Ricky’s best (long since eclipsed by others), but it was farther than my bunkmate in Basic Training, Rosey, could throw any object.

I bought quite a few other books about card tricks and some trick decks at a magic store. I practiced my sleights for at least an hour a day. I could do a few tricks, but none of them very well. I only perfected one, Scarne’s Color Change, which required very little skill. I watched the Amazing Kreskin use it to baffle Charlton Heston, who held the deck in his own hands through nearly all of the experience. on national television.

Once, when Elaine Philpot was sitting at our table at the Crow’s Nest, I pulled a deck of cards from my pocket and said that I had learned a magic trick. I then told her that scientists in Switzerland had determined that a few sensitive people were able to determine whether a playing card was red or black solely through their fingertips. The cards with red suits and numbers allegedly transmitted slightly more heat. I asked her to try it. When the trick was over she was absolutely convinced that her fingers could discern red cards from black even though I started by telling her that it was a trick.

Wedding: Mitch Chyette married his longtime girlfriend, Andee, in the summer of 1976. It was the only Jewish wedding that I have ever attended. The debaters were all there, but I don’t remember many details. If I find any photos, I will post them.

Sports: I played a few rounds of golf with Don Goldman. I don’t remember any details.

I bought a pair of Adidas running shoes and started jogging when I noticed that I was getting fat. I jogged at least a couple of times a week for forty or more years.

The only recognized sport in the Ann Arbor area is college football. If the team and I were both in town, I went to the game. If I was out of town, I gave my ticket to Don Goldman or someone else. He did the same for me. In that way Sue was able to see a few games, too. The team’s records during the three years were 10-1, 8-2-2 (tying two out-of-conference games and losing to Oklahoma in the Orange Bowl, and 10-2 (losing to USC in the Rose Bowl).

Rick Leach was the star of the 1976 team.

One game—or actually half of a game—stands out in my memory. Sue and I attended the game with Mitch Chyette and wife Andee. For her the best part of the game was the show that the band put on at halftime.

We watched the first half of one of the home games—I think that it must have been the 1976 game against Minnesota—in the rain. I was miserable. Andee opined that we should leave after the half. I said that if we stayed for the halftime show, we were definitely staying for the second half. We decided to leave at the end of the first half and watch the rest of the game at their nearby apartment.

For years I thought that the game we saw with Mitch and Andee was the one in 1968 in which Ron Johnson set the NCAA rushing record (broken many times in subsequent years) with an unbelievable second half in the mud. I must have conflated two events that were actually years apart. It happens when you become a geezer.

I am pretty sure that we also went bowling once with Mitch, Andee, and her sister, who was dating a Chaldean guy who apparently smoke a smattering of Arabic. He told us how he had been hired by some Black guys to read some Muslim texts to them. They liked the way that the Arabic sounded, but none of them understood it. He said that he always threw in some jokes, malapropisms, and obscenities.

1. This policy began in the nineteenth century. In 1974 Detroit Edison was sued for antitrust violations by a drug store. In 1978, after we had moved away from the tracks, Detroit Edison terminated the policy.

2. I don’t think that Purina still markets specifically to mice owners. I looked for a picture on the Internet, but I could not find one.

3. Charlie Haggers was played by Graham Jarvis. He died in 2003 at the age of 72.

4. Loretta Haggers was portrayed by Mary Kay Place. She won an Emmy for her performance.

5. It is quite possible that the Kansas City trip took place a year earlier (1975).

6. I later learned that Piccolomini is the family name of two popes, Pius II and his nephew Pius III. Pius II as a young man wrote some erotic literature. His nephew’s pontificate lasted less than a month.

7. The band is long gone, but Larry Nager has had a very productive career in performing music and writing about it.

8. Ricky Jay died in 2018. He was one of my very few idols.

1975 Summer: Hartford

Posted on March 6, 2021 by Mike

One magic summer. Continue reading →

By the spring of 1975 both Sue and I missed our friends back in Connecticut. From Michigan I got in touch with someone, probably Scott Otermat, at the Hartford to see if I could obtain employment there for the summer. The Individual Pensions Department was happy to have me back, and they paid me pretty well.

Sue also contacted her last employer in Hartford, the Little Aetna, and she was also able to obtain a temporary position with them.

The second semester at U-M ended in late April. Sue was between jobs. So, early in May we loaded up both cars with our clothes and other necessities, and we also brought Puca in his cage. I don’t remember anything about the trip. We certainly drove through Ohio and Pennsylvania. We did not encounter any memorable difficulties.

The area has changed a lot since 1975, but I think that we stayed somewhere in the above vicinity. Our building was on the west side of Wethersfield Ave.

We did not sublet our apartment in Plymouth. I don’t think that we even discussed it. Even paying two rents, we calculated that we would do a lot better economically than if we had remained in Plymouth and sat on our thumbs.

We probably stayed at least one night in the Hartford area before we found a furnished apartment. Sue’s family might have put us up. I don’t remember that we made any other arrangements. We found a very convenient place on Wethersfield Avenue in the south end of Hartford. There were quite a few apartment buildings there. Ours had a parking lot in the back.

Work: Sue did not talk much about her work at the Little Aetna before we left Connecticut, and I don’t remember her talking about it much during the summer of 1975 either.

I was welcomed back to the twenty-first floor by many smiling faces. I was assigned a desk right in the middle of the Individual Pensions department and provided with a teletype terminal right on my desk. It differed from the two in the computer room in two ways: 1) Its off-line storage device was film tape cassettes rather than paper tape. It could read and write much faster; 2) It was quiet enough that it did not disturb nearby employees. The ones in the computer room were very noisy.

I undertook some programming projects on the HP 3000, but I don’t remember any details. I had had no association with computers in the eight months that I had been gone, but it did not take me long to feel comfortable again. I was only twenty-seven years old; my memory still worked.

The big project for the summer involved Paul Gewirtz, who was by then a Fellow of the Society of Actuaries, Scott Otermat, me, and a few people from the Data Processing Department. Our department wanted DP to do a project on the mainframe. I am not certain, but we may have wanted them to replace the very flawed system that was still being used to produce the annual reports for the policyholders.It is described here.

Scott, Paul, and I met a few times before we talked to the people from DP. We had our needs already outlined on paper including the formulas for the calculations. We had laid out what data the entry screens had to collect. We gathered samples of the output from Carolyn DesRochers’s area.

I have been in a hundred or more such meetings. In subsequent years I was on the other side of the table. That is, people were explaining to me what they wanted the computing system to do for them. Only one or two of those requests were as well documented as ours was at the first meeting.

DP assigned two people to our project, one female and one male. The woman had some experience. It was, I think, the first project for the guy. In the first meeting we did not get as far as showing them the materials that we assembled. We first had to explain to them what individual pensions were and how they were handled at the Hartford. The only thing that the committee agreed upon at the end of our first meeting, which lasted for a couple of hours, was that we needed more meetings.

After that we met weekly, I think on Tuesdays. The three of us continued to do almost all of the talking. After five or six weeks of this, the DP lady informed us that we needed to do a presentation for one of the vice-presidents to evaluate the project. We were happy to hear this. Although we were disgusted by all the time that we had already put into the project, it seemed as if it was beginning to roll.

The DP lady assigned aspects of the presentation to each of us. I don’t remember who played which role. We even had a rehearsal. The meeting attended by veep was not that memorable either. We gave out little talks. The DP guy asked a couple of questions. We all shook hands and went back to work.

A few days later Paul or Scott heard from the DP lady that the presentation had been favorably received. She also said that we would meet the next Tuesday to begin the next stage. She wanted all three of us to attend. Paul, for one, did not see why his presence was still required, but he came anyway.

That meeting was a real eye-opener for all three of us. The DP woman announced that we needed to put together information to justify that our project was worthy of a feasibility study that would be conducted by a different group of people from the DP department. The three of us from pensions were gobsmacked. We told her that we thought that our committee had been doing a feasibility study. That was why our documentation was so detailed. If we were not assessing the feasibility, what had we been doing? Furthermore, if the VP was not assessing the feasibility of our request, what was he doing?

She said that the VP from the DP department was impressed with what we had done. It was an easy decision for him to proceed with the project. She may have understood how little this praise meant to us, but she insisted that the next step was definitely to request a feasibility study and make a separate presentation. We had to be prepared to meet the department’s standards for such a request. After some more venting of our frustration we scheduled another meeting.

Paul, Scott, and I met the next day. Paul had just one question for me: “Could you write this code?”

The line printer could at least handle wide paper.

I said that the coding would not be that difficult. However, if we used the HP 3000, the data entry on teletypes (as opposed to mainframe terminals or coding sheets keyed in elsewhere) would be kludgy, and I had no access to a printer capable of producing the output.

At the next meeting Paul swept aside the agenda provided by the female DP employee and said that he wanted to consider another approach. He wanted to know if it were possible for a few people from our department to be given a portion of the disk and whatever other resources were needed to produce the required output. He emphasized, “Data processing would not need to do any of the system design or programming. We just need access to the machine and a programming language that we can use.”

This was, of course, out of the question. She would not even ask her bosses if that was a possible approach. We needed to go through the established protocols. That ended the meeting.

When he got back to Individual Pensions Paul called one of the officers in the DP department and informed him that our department was dropping the request. I don’t know if anything was ever done about this.

Sports: If there was a Mean Reserves softball team in 1975, I don’t remember whether I played or not. I do remember playing in a few practices. My kneecap felt fine. I may have lost a step on the basepaths, but there was no pain. The biggest problem was that I seemed to have lost my league-leading swing. I felt as if I was swinging the same. I could still direct the ball to right field, but I could no longer consistently hit line drives. I found this very frustrating.

I also remember one practice softball game in which, for whatever reason, I was playing shortstop without a glove. Someone hit a line drive over my head and to my left. I leapt toward it and extended my bare left hand. I stopped its flight long enough that I was able to catch it with both hands before it hit the ground. It was a spectacular play.

I also remember that I was playing left field once when there was a man on third with one out. The batter hit a fly down the third base line. I caught the ball on the run and immediately threw it toward the catcher as hard as I possibly could. As I had anticipated, the man on third tagged up and tested my rag arm. The ball reached the catcher in time, but something went wrong. I don’t remember what.

So, my Hartford softball career ended with my perfect record of never having thrown out a runner intact.

John Sigler and Jim Cochran continued their golf partnership. One week I substituted for Jim in the Men’s League. I was matched up against a guy whom I had narrowly defeated in a very tough match the year before. I had to give him one stroke this time, which was not at all reflective of our abilities in 1975. He was at the top of his game, and I had played little or no golf since breaking my kneecap a year earlier.

The first hole was a medium-length par four. My opponent hit a nice drive and a good iron shot. He had a long putt for a birdie. Meanwhile I was spraying the ball from the rough on one side of the fairway to the other. After four miserable shots my ball was on the fringe perhaps a foot from the green. I decided to putt, and I stroked the most memorable shot of my entire golf career. The ball rolled and rolled and then dove into the hole.

This fluky shot seemed to ruin my opponent’s composure. He three-putted, which meant that we halved the hole. Thereafter, he played better than I did, but only by a little. I lost a couple of holes badly, but, even though I had to give a stroke, I also won a couple of holes on which he made mistakes. We ended up tying the match. John won his match, and we won the team match to earn 2.5 out of three points.

I played a few rounds of golf on weekends with John and Norm Newfield, but I don’t think that I played very well. I remember thinking that my athletic prowess, such as it was, reached its zenith the day that I broke my kneecap during the previous summer.

Other: I have few other distinct memories of the summer. I remember cooling off with gin and tonics. The apartment did not have air conditioning. I knew no one in Connecticut who had air conditioning until years later.

Jim Hawke and I became good friends that summer. We ate lunch together most days. Occasionally we went out to a nearby restaurant.

There were two negative and bizarre notes. One morning I placed my wallet in the inside coat pocket of my brown corduroy jacket. I walked out to Greenie, parked as always in the apartment’s lot. I opened the car door, took off my jacket, and tossed it on the passenger seat.

When I arrived at the Hartford I seized my jacket and, before I even put it on, I noticed that the wallet was missing. I searched the car and found nothing. I immediately drove back to the apartment. It only took about ten minutes. I searched the parking lot and retraced my steps to the apartment. I never found it.

There was not much money in it, and I did not have any credit cards. I had to replace my driver’s license, of course, but the biggest loss was my green military ID card. On it was the only extant picture of me with the ultra-short military Class A haircut. Sue said that I looked like a convict in that picture.

One evening while I was driving from work to the apartment my back began to itch. It soon became almost more than I could bear. Then I began to feel feverish and weak. It was, thank goodness, only a short drive.

There are at least 125 species of wolf spiders in the United States.

Once inside I peeled off my coat and shirt and looked at my back in the bathroom mirror. Apparently a spider or an insect of some sort had somehow gotten in my shirt. There were a dozen or so bites. I searched through my clothing, but I did not encounter my assailant.

I took a shower, lay down, and immediately fell asleep. I awoke an hour or so later, and I felt better. By the next day I was fine.

Wavablog

Memoirs, bridge, popes, travel, and other stuff

Monthly Archives: March 2021

1977-1980 Part 3C: Debate at Wayne State: The Debaters

1977 Summer: Transition to Detroit

1977-1980 Part 3A: Debate at Wayne State: The Program

1974-1977 Living in Plymouth, MI

1975 Summer: Hartford