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.

1976-1977 U-M: Debate?

Posted on March 3, 2021 by Mike

My last year coaching at U-M. Continue reading →

I did not learn of the demise of Michigan’s debate program in time to take steps to finding somewhere else to coach during the 1975-76 school year. Also, I seem to remember that I still needed at least one class to complete the requirements for my leisurely masters degree. I had not yet decided what to do. At some point during the fall I wrote a letter to George Ziegelmueller about coaching at Wayne State University in Detroit beginning in the 1977-78 school year. This was somewhat difficult to do. I had very little respect for George as a coach and none as a judge. However, Wayne State had by far the largest debate program in the state and had a PhD program in speech. I frankly doubt that I could have gotten hired anywhere else.

Early in the school year I had a long talk with Don Huprich. He told me that U-M’s debate team was a hopeless mess. The new coach, Jack Nightingale (I think that was his name, but I never met him), was a new graduate student in speech who knew less about competitive debate than the previous year’s novices, Dean Relkin and Bob Jones. Don wanted to debate with Stewart Mandel on the national circuit. He said that he would fund the expenses for the whole year himself. He asked me to coach and accompany them on trips. He owned a car that we could use. It was newer and nicer than mine, and because it had automatic transmission, anyone could drive it. He may have even offered to pay me a little money to help.

This little door financed U-M debate in 1976-77.

I was astounded by this offer. Don explained that his father held the patent on “fruit doors”, the little devices on the back of refrigerated trucks. He had reportedly made a LOT of money on this invention. Don evidently had access to enough of it to finance a two-person one-coach debate team. He also had figured out how to represent the Michigan debate team without going through the speech department. I am not sure how he managed it, but he was able to choose the tournaments that he wanted to attend, and he mailed in the registration forms himself. Neither I nor Jack Nightingale had anything to do with it.

I had no reason to reject Don’s proposition. I had nothing planned for either semester, and I was definitely not yet ready to abandon the quest on which I had set out two years earlier.

The debate topic for 1976-77 was “Resolved: That the federal government should significantly strengthen the guarantee of consumer product safety required of manufacturers.” A few cases were very popular that year: cigarettes, air bags for automobiles, and gun control. What was left of the U-M debate team had many disadvantages vis-à-vis the other schools, but we had one huge advantage—the University of Michigan Transportation Research Institute (UMTRI) and its enormous library. Don and Stewart spent a great deal of time there.

I don’t remember too many details about the season, but I do remember watching an octafinal round at an early tournament, maybe Western Illinois. Stewart and Don must have been debating in another room. If they had been eliminated and I had not been scheduled to judge, we would certainly have gone home. I don’t remember which teams participated in this debate. The affirmative ran a case that banned automation. Really. All automation.

Occasionally the best arguments are simple.

Both affirmative and negative debaters were always expected to justify their claims with evidence. Some ideas, however, are so ridiculous that no one has bothered to research or write about them. This was clearly one of those ideas. It is difficult to attack such a case using any usual approach. The other team doubtless has a few documented examples where automating a process was a bad idea, but what researcher would bother to document the myriad cases in which machines improved life? Does anyone want to return to the days when fields were plowed by horses and oxen? Does anyone want to eliminate machines that allow people to survive life-threatening injuries or illnesses?

I don’t remember many of the negative’s arguments, but the second negative won the debate (and probably removed the case from the circuit) when he pulled out a dictionary and read the definition of “automation”. He then just spoke frankly for a few minutes and outlined a strong case for a civilized country with a modern military and health system and an economy that took advantage of science.

The judges all voted negative, and I never heard of this case again. What surprised me was that the affirmative must have prevailed in a few previous rounds. Maybe the used a different case.

On the whole this was definitely an affirmative-biased topic. It was relatively easy to find a manufactured product that was apparently causing problems. It was much more challenging for the negative to show that the proposed regulation of that product would make things worse. Furthermore, there were thousands of consumer products, and the affirmative chose which ones were the subject of the debate. The negative had to be prepared for almost anything.

The three most important debates of the year— the semifinals and finals of NDT—were all won by the affirmative teams. Of the fifteen ballots cast in these debates, twelve were for the affirmative. Southern Cal won its semifinal on the affirmative 5-0 but lost the final round on the negative 4-1.

Those debates completed a pattern that was established much earlier in the year. If a team had a choice between debating affirmative or negative, it almost always chose affirmative. In contrast, in my senior year seven years earlier the team that won the coin flip in every elimination rounds in which I participated chose negative.

In 1976-77 many negative teams depended on the writings and research of Sam Peltzman of the University of Chicago. His books and articles claimed that in many cases when people’s devices were made apparently safer by a governmental requirement, the people using the devices adopted riskier strategies because they feel more comfortable doing so. For example, people wearing seat belts might drive faster or more recklessly. He had documented some cases in which adding safety devices apparently resulted in the increase in deaths or injuries.

Another approach used by many negative teams was to label harmful effects documented by their opponents as “self-imposed”. Plenty of philosophers have argued that in a free society individuals should be allowed to judge their own costs and benefits. This approach could be used, for example, against a law mandating helmets for those riding motorcycles. A person who is not wearing one may be putting his own life in danger, but his lack of a helmet is extremely unlikely to harm others. Any harm that he might suffer is self-induced.

I really liked the case that Don developed based on speed governors for automobiles and trucks. Because of the energy crisis it was already illegal to drive over fifty-five miles per hour almost everywhere in the United States. Why then were many cars built to go ninety miles per hour or more? It was easy to show that decreasing the maximum speed saves lots of lives every year. In fact, speed governors had been tried in some jurisdictions. The harm was not self-imposed, at least not entirely, because most serious accidents involve more than one vehicle, and passengers seldom were allowed to vote about how hard the driver pressed the accelerator pedal. The “Peltzman effect” does not apply either. What can drivers do to offset the limitation on speed? Take a nap? Drive on two wheels like Joey Chitwood?

Many teams in 1976-77 had nearly unbeatable cases. Negatives had to be very clever. Sometimes the best approach was to argue topicality¹. However, most debaters and their coaches were averse to these arguments. They were more comfortable arguing about facts and analysis than about semantics.

I don’t remember if Don and Stewart wen to the tournaments in California. I definitely did not.

For me the most memorable event of the year was the “east coast swing”. As I recall, Don’s original plan was to attend all three tournaments—Boston College, Harvard, and Dartmouth. So, the three of us set out early in the morning on Friday, January 28, 1977. As always, we drove through southern Ontario. The roads were perfectly clear all the way through Canada, but as we approached the U.S. border we noticed that the snow was piled up pretty high on the sides of the road. We were not aware that Lake Erie, which is south of Ontario and west of Buffalo, had at that point been frozen over for forty-five days! Several feet of powdery snow had been accumulating on the surface.

We drove on Route 405 to the border crossing between Lewiston, NY, and Niagara Falls (red arrow in upper left corner). At this point we were right on schedule. The roads were clear, and the visibility was good as we headed southeast on U.S. 62 skirting the northeast suburbs of Buffalo. On each side of us the snow was piled at least ten feet high. We could see no buildings. We knew that we were in a populous area, but the only evidence of civilization were a few road signs peaking out over the snowpack. It was an awesome experience, but we had no reason to feel threatened. The change in conditions only began when we reached the New York Thruway (I-90) near Williamsville (second arrow from left).

All these photos (except the toll booth) are from the Buffalo or Batavia area during the Blizzard of 1977.

Quite suddenly the wind, which blew from the west, picked up dramatically, and the snow began to fall. The wind whipped the snow around the front of our car from both sides. Visibility dropped to near zero. At times we could not see to the end of our car’s hood. Soon it became impossible even to tell where the lanes were. It was cold, but Stewart and I rolled down our windows and helped Don, who was driving, keep the vehicle on the road by continually reporting to him him how far it wase from the snowbank. He slowed down to 10 miles per hour or less.

This was the famous Blizzard of 1977 that killed twenty-three people, many of them on the stretch of road that we needed to travel. We were quite familiar with this stretch of the NY Thruway. There were no cities of much consequence near the highway until we reached Syracuse, which was most of the way across the state. Something bad would probably happen to us if we tried to go that far.

While we were inching along the highway, semis occasionally passed us. Perhaps the drivers thought they could outrun the storm. However, the wind, which gusted up to sixty-nine miles per hour, was a bigger problem than the snow. It was picking up powdered snow from Lake Erie and from Buffalo, which had already received more than ten feet of snow that year, and dumping it on the Thruway. We caught glimpses of several jackknifed eighteen-wheelers on both sides of the eastbound portion of the highway.

We quickly determined that we needed to leave the highway at the first exit that we came to. We looked and looked, but we never saw an exit. We could not see any of the road signs well enough to read them. In fact, for a long time we could see nothing in front of or behind us and only the snowbanks to the left and right. We continued moving slowly eastward for almost three hours.

At last I spotted a sign for a Rodeway Inn peeking over the snowbank on the right. It was perhaps fifty yards away. I figured that in all likelihood there must be an exit nearby. I was so concerned about missing the exit that I actually considered recommending that we abandon the car and try to make our way toward that sign by crawling over the snowpack, which was at least ten feet deep. Instead Don slowed down the car even more to avoid missing the exit.

We never did see any signs for the exit, but by maintaining a constant distance between the car and the snowbank on the right we accidentally departed the highway at the exit for Batavia, NY (arrow on the right in the above map). Our first indication that we were no longer on the Thruway was the array of toll booths ahead of us, and we could not see them until we were almost upon them.

It was a great relief to see a live human being in the toll booth. We paid our toll and told him that the Thruway should definitely be closed. He replied that it had been closed for more than an hour. We asked him if there was a hotel nearby. He advised us that there was a Holiday Inn² near the end of the ramp.

Don guided the vehicle into the hotel’s snow-covered parking lot. At the reception desk they told us that only a few rooms were still available. Needless to say, we took one. We then asked if the hotel had a restaurant. It did, but the desk clerk said it had been closed when the food ran out. He assured us that there would be a breakfast buffet in the morning. We would have greatly preferred to have a breakfast buffet that evening, but it wasn’t in the cards, and we did not even discuss taking the car out to search for a restaurant or market. Instead we each purchased several candy bars from the machines. An hour or so later those machines were empty.

We called Tuna Snider, the coach at Boston College, and told him that we were stuck in Batavia. He was surprised to hear how bad the conditions were. I am not aware of any other teams that got stuck in this morass. I told the BC people that I did not know when we would arrive, but I would be happy to judge when we got there. Tuna said that that would be greatly appreciated. He said that he would pay me $10 per round, which was the usual rate.

We also called home and told everyone that we were alive and safe.

I am pretty sure that we had missed lunch, and we definitely had nothing but candy bars for supper. Don, Stewart, and I were therefore hungry and disappointed. However, we all appreciated how much worse it could have been. We set our alarms and asked for a wake-up call in time for us to be at the breakfast buffet as soon as the doors were open. That night we slept the sleep of the just.

By daybreak the snow had stopped. The wind was still blowing, however. So, snow that was pushed to the side of the road by the plows was often quickly replaced by snow blown off of the snowpack. The Thruway was still closed in both directions.

On the way to breakfast we saw that dozens of people had set up camp in the hotel’s lobby. Many were still sleeping. We were near the beginning of the buffet line and piled on the food. The restaurant usually allowed unlimited trips to the buffet, but on this occasion the management sensibly limited everyone to one trip. Nevertheless, they ran out of food while we were finishing our plentiful meal.

Many of the people stranded in the hotel were truckers. They were able to obtain up-to-the-minute information about the road conditions. We learned from one of them that from Syracuse to the east the Thruway was open, but that it was doubtful that the area near Batavia would reopen until the following day.

I don’t think that I-490 and I-390 existed in 1977.

A more promising development was reported later in the morning. Evidently Route 33, a two-lane road that connected Rochester with Batavia had just opened. From Rochester we could allegedly take another two-lane road, Route 31, toward Victor, NY. The Thruway was allegedly open from there to New England.

We allowed a few intrepid truckers to blaze the trail before we decided to try it. Maps were still plentiful in 1977, and I think that Don had one. Having made sure that we had good directions for making the proper connections on these side roads, we cleared a few feet of snow off of Don’s car and set off for Rochester. Initially we had to drive a mile or so south to reach Route 33 in the middle of Batavia. The roads were surprisingly passable in Batavia. The residents had never seen this kind of storm, but they had considerable experience at dealing with snow.³

The interstate shown on this map from Rochester to Victor did not exist. We took Route 31.

Route 33 was a little precarious. Snow that was continually blowing onto the highway made conditions a little slippery, but at least we could see. In a few places the width that had been cleared was not sufficient for two cars, but we encountered almost no vehicles headed for Batavia. By the time that we reached Rochester the conditions were much better. The drive on Route 31 was even easier. In fact we faced no more significant delays all the way to Boston.

I am pretty sure that I judged quite a few rounds at the Boston College tournament. They paid me, and I gave the money to Don. Don and Stewart rested up and then watched at least one elimination round. I also have a dim recollection of all three of us going to a party thrown by the tournament staff and the BC coach, Tuna Snider.

I don’t actually remember anything else about the part of the trip involving the debating. Don and Stewart surely debated at Harvard, but I don’t remember how they did. I have a vague recollection of being on the Dartmouth campus. I seem to remember that the guys did well there. I might be wrong

I have one strong memory of the drive home. Since there were three potential drivers, we elected to drive straight through with only minimal stops. We did not run into any snow. It was, however, dark and very cold when we crossed the border into Canada. Don was exhausted. He handed the keys to me.

I was alert for the first hour or so, but then I also became very sleepy. There was almost no traffic. Don and Stewart were both dead to the world. I unilaterally adopted a policy of pulling the car over to the breakdown lane every twenty or thirty minutes. I then exited from the car and stood for a second in the bitterly cold air before I walked completely around the car. I then got back in and drove on.

By the time that we reached Windsor, I had my second wind. I drove straight through from there to Plymouth, where I gave the keys back to Don.

When I arrived home Sue told us that she had been praying that we would find an Eskimo lady to take us in.

My only recollection of the remainder of the debate season before districts was an elimination round that I, along with two other debate coaches, judged between Harvard and Georgetown. They were two of the very best teams in the country. Georgetown was on the affirmative, arguing in favor of mandatory air bags.

At the conclusion of the debate the other two judges quickly signed and turned in their ballots. I, however, was not a bit certain who had won. I spent at least fifteen minutes asking to read various pieces of evidence from both teams. In the end I voted for Harvard. One of the other judges had voted affirmative and one negative, but neither thought that it was close.

I was not too worried about Don and Stewart’s prospects at districts. Northwestern’s top team had received a first round bid. I did not think that anyone else could touch the case on speed governors, and I was pretty sure that Don and Stewart, who had done well in some prestigious national tournaments, could win at least two rounds on the negative.

I was right. We all got to go to NDT at Southwest Missouri State University⁴ in Springfield.

The drive to SMS was long, but we were accustomed to long road trips. We had plenty to discuss on the way. For once we knew exactly the set of teams from which our opponents would be drawn.

We did not stay at the hotel recommended by the tournament. Don found one a couple of miles from the SMS campus that featured much lower rates.

The black & white episodes are much better than the ones in color.

I should mention that the people in southern Missouri talk with a much more pronounced drawl than the residents of KC, St. Louis, and points north. Springfield is near the Ozarks, the home of Jed Clampett and his kin. It resembles Arkansas much more than it resembles northern Missouri

The SMS campus was very nice. I have a pretty clear recollection of one debate round that I judgied. Two guys from UMass were on the affirmative. Their case had two distinct parts. One part advocated gun control; the other mandated speed governors. That part was similar to Don and Stewart’s case.

The room in which the debate took place was in a building facing the quadrangle in the middle of campus. It was a beautiful spring day, and someone had opened a window or two in the room. The first affirmative had completed his presentation of the case. Prep time for one of the subsequent speeches was in progress when a fair amount of commotion could be heard through the window. Some SMS students were evidently being overly boisterous.

Someone in the room, perhaps a judge, asked, “What was that?” Because I took judging very seriously, I kept my peace. However, I thought of an extremely appropriate answer: “They probably heard that some Yankees had come down here talkin’ about takin’ their guns away and slowin’ down their cars.”

For NDT every judge was asked to explicate his judging philosophy in a paragraph or two. These were accumulated, duplicated, and included in the tournament welcome packets. We also had brought the accordion file of U-M ballots from previous tournaments (and years). Before the tournament started every team was allowed to name three judges that they wished to exclude from judging them. This process was called “striking”. I don’t remember which judges we struck, but the emphasis was definitely on competence rather than who associated with whom. I did not generally go to coaches’ parties and so I was not really aware of those relationships.

In the eighth round Don and Stewart faced a very good team, Fabiani⁵ and McNamara from Redlands. They had received one of the coveted first-round bids. I do not recall which team was on the affirmative. I also do not remember the other two judges, but one was Brad Ziff from Georgetown. Everyone in the tournament knew that this was an important round. A few people from District 5 approached me to tell me that I should have put Brad Ziff on our strike list. They said that he never voted against Redlands.

At any rate Redlands won the debate 3-0 and advanced to the elimination rounds. In fact, they made it as far as the semifinals. Don was convinced that Redlands had won on reputation, not arguments. He was so upset that he refused to attend the final assembly in which the qualifiers were announced, and speaker awards were presented. I had no real jurisdiction over him, but I was six years older. I said that we were all going to swallow our feelings and go to the assembly with our heads held high.

Don protested that I had made an angry display at Harvard once. I admitted that I did, and it was wrong. I insisted that we all attend the assembly, and we did. If anyone knew how he felt, it was I. Still, attending was the right thing to do.

The drive back was not a lot of fun. Don really wanted to debate in the elimination rounds at NDT. He deserved it, too. I suspect that he had worked harder that year than anyone in the entire history of U-M debate.

Georgetown won the NDT that year.

At some point during the year I drove to Wayne State in downtown Detroit and met with George Z. He said that he had talked with Dr. Colburn, who had informed him of an incident involving expense reports. I explained that I had turned a large number of them at once, and the secretary got upset. He just laughed at that. He offered me a job as a teaching assistant. I seem to remember that they also waived the tuition.

1. “Topicality” refers to arguments about whether the affirmative’s plan is a legitimate interpretation of the resolution. For the 1976-77 resolution some might argue that the federal government was not the actor, that the action was not significant, that manufacturers were not required to do anything, etc.

2. My recollection is that it was a Holiday Inn, but the hotels that in 2021 are located near the exit that we stumbled upon do not include a Holiday Inn. There are also no Rodeway Inns nearby either.

3. A first-hand blog of the event in Batavia can be read here.

4. The university is now called Missouri State. The “Southwest” part was dropped in 2005.

5. Mark Fabiani was only a sophomore in 1977. He was the top speaker at the 1979 NDT. He later became a very prominent political figure both in Los Angeles and nationwide. His Wikipedia page is here.

6. Brad Ziff’s LinkedIn page is here.

1975-1976 U-M: Debate

Posted on February 28, 2021 by Mike

Finally made it to NDT! Continue reading →

The U-M team in 1975-1976 was, of course, a little different from the previous year’s. Don Goldman and I still comprised the coaching staff. The team lost two debaters. Mike Kelly had graduated, and Tim Beyer had decided not to debate after his freshman year. So, Wayne Miller debated with Mitch Chyette all year, and Don Huprich debated with Stewart Mandel. Two freshmen joined the team, Dean Relkin and Bob “Basketball” Jones.¹ Bob knew Don Huprich; I am not sure how Dean found out about the team.

The financial situation was even worse than in the previous year. The travel budget remained the same, but Paul Caghan was no longer around. Even if he had been, I doubt that I would again have requested a stipend for his girlfriend. Also, I had high hopes that in March Wayne and Mitch would qualify for the National Debate Tournament in Boston. We would need to find financing for that somewhere.

Prisons use lots of land. Have you ever been to Leavenworth?

The debate topic for the year was “Resolved: That the federal government should adopt a comprehensive program to control land use in the United States.” Wayne and Mitch ran an affirmative case about the Army Corps of Engineers. Don and Stewart’s case was about coal pollution and solar heating/cooling. I liked the latter a lot more than the former.

In 1974-75 I had worked with Tim and Stewart Mandel primarily on strategy and the construction of individual arguments because their presentation skills had already been pretty well honed in high school. In 1975, on the other hand, I needed to devote more time with Bob and Dean to fundamentals.

Dean Relkin’s word rate per minute was without a doubt the lowest of anyone that I ever heard in an intercollegiate debate. There was never any doubt that Bob had to be the second affirmative. Almost everyone in college typed up the first affirmative constructive speech, which was then delivered word-for-word. Generally, the only exceptions were to add a joke or two that might be appreciated by the judge. The speech would ordinarily be delivered at a conversational pace—considerably slower than the other seven speeches.

The first affirmative speech that was designed for Dean could be read aloud by any of the other guys in seven or eight minutes. So, their affirmative case contained, by necessity, fewer arguments than anyone else’s. This was not necessarily a significant disadvantage. Sometimes debaters present more arguments than they can defend.

This is Tom Rollins. I could not find a photo of Dean Relkin.

Dean had a skill that considerably helped offset his shortcoming in the speed department. He had exceptionally good word economy—the ability to state an argument in the most compact manner. In fact, the only debater whom I have ever heard with better word economy was the legendary Tom Rollins² of Georgetown, who won the top speaker award at NDT in 1975 and then again in 1978. He was runner-up in 1976.

To address the speed problem in the other three speeches we decided that it would be best for Dean to give the first affirmative rebuttal and both second negative speeches. Most speakers giving the 1AR, a five-minute speech that follows fifteen minutes of arguments from the negative, spoke at a very rapid rate. Dean could not match them, but his phrasing was so good that he almost always was able to answer all of the 2NC arguments and also do a pretty good job of dealing with the most important points in the 1NR.

The second negative posed a different set of problems. Most of Dean’s constructive speech could be written out ahead of time, and he was fully capable of coming up with new arguments. The problem was that the 1AR might present so many answers that Dean could not get through them all in his rebuttal. So, he needed to learn how to select one or two of his best arguments against the affirmative plan and strive to win the important points supporting those points. He also needed Bob to select an argument or two that he (i.e., Bob) had presented in 1NC and defended in 1NR for Dean to “pull through” in his rebuttal. They had to practice this quite a bit, but eventually they got it down.

Bob also had a problem that was difficult to deal with. I noticed in practice debates that he would sometimes skip an argument. In a debate this is tantamount to conceding it. Doing this even once could easily turn a victory into a defeat.

All debaters took² careful notes when the opponents were speaking on a “flow sheet” with several columns. In one column were the opponents’ arguments. In the next column were written the planned responses in shorthand. That column served as the outline for the speech.

I decided to ask Bob Jones to participate in a mini-debate. Someone would read a first affirmative speech. Bob would take notes and prepare a first negative constructive for me to listen to. Ordinarily I would also take notes on my flow sheet, but in this case I just watched Bob while the other participant read the case.

After about a minute or two I called a halt to the exercise. I noticed that Bob was holding his pen between his middle two fingers. His thumb was barely involved at all. This might be a good grip for a bear, but there are many better ways for a creatures with opposable thumbs to write. Bob’s approach forced him to lift his hand after every few characters to see what he wrote, which, considering that none of his fingertips were in contact with the pen, could be just about anything. Try it yourself!

I was flabbergasted. Aside from hiring a first-grade teacher to come to the Frieze Building to teach him how to write, I could think of no practical advice for him. I occasionally awoke in the middle of the night fretting over this problem.

I did have one unexpected visitor in the Frieze Building that year, my cousin John Cernech, Terry’s older brother. He may have called before he arrived. If not, I do not know how he found the debate office.

He told me that he was a dean at Quincy College (Quincy University since 1993) in Illinois. It was a Catholic school of a little over one thousand students. I had no idea what being a dean entailed—Animal House was not released until 1978—and did not press him about it. That he was administering a college surprised me a little. He was two or three years ahead of me in high school, and academics was not his specialty.

John is the man on the left in this photo taken in 2012. He has a PhD and was a VP at Creighton University at the time.

He might have told me about Terry. Somehow I learned that he was managing a pizza restaurant.

He was very cordial as he asked me about what I had been up to. I told him about my classes and the debate team. I may have told him about living in Plymouth and Sue; I don’t remember. It probably would have been courteous to invite him to lunch or dinner, but I didn’t. I naturally assumed that he had come to spy on me for someone in my family. I may have been mistaken.

As a present Sue had a replica made for me of the original shirt. The only thing missing is the C. I still wear this to bridge tournaments.

I think that this was the year that the blue Michigan Debate tee shirts appeared on the circuit. The guys still dressed nicely for the preliminary rounds, but they broke out the tee shirts for elimination rounds. “Michigan Debate” was imprinted on the front in maize; the debater’s name was on the back.

They got one made for me, too. The front of mine had a “C” to denote my status on the team. The back said “Prof. Wavada”. This was in honor of the mythical Professor Wavada (wuh VAH duh) who was often announced as a judge for elimination rounds. Of course I was not a professor. I had never even taught a class in anything anywhere.

The guys were not receptive to my idea for much snazzier uniforms. I envisioned the debaters wearing maize (the color, not the plant) shirts with blue ties arrayed with maize wolverines; these ties were on sale in Ann Arbor. Over these shirts we would wear blue blazers with the school seal emblazoned on the breast pocket. The debater could add his own name on the back in maize letters. The trousers would be a tasteful maize and blue plaid. The footwear would include maize socks and white bucks with a bold block M in blue on the toe of each shoe.

I remember changing into my tee shirt whenever I was chosen to judge an elimination round. During the very first time that I wore it the room became uncomfortably chilly. I shivered so much that it became difficult too take good notes. Nevertheless, I never covered up the school colors with a jacket.

Don Goldman escorted Bob and Dean to several nearby tournaments. I remember taking the pair to two. The first was a varsity tournament at Miami University in Oxford, Ohio. The guys did a terrific job. They actually qualified for the elimination rounds. I was really proud of them.

I had learned from Dr. Colburn that Juddi and Jimmie Trent were both professors in the speech department at Miami. I looked them up. I was disappointed that I did not get to talk with Jimmie, but I did spend a little time catching up with Juddi. She did not seem to have changed much. I certainly had, at least in appearance. I wonder what she thought of the bearded cowboy with glasses that I had become.

I also drove Bob and Dean to Novice Nationals at Northwestern. Three things stand out in my memory from that tournament. At the beginning of the event David Zarefsky was master of ceremonies at an assembly. He started by directing our attention to the “continental breakfast, which you all know is a euphemism for coffee and donuts.” A few people laughed.

He then presented the tournament’s staff. One of the Northwestern coaches was female, and she was very hot. I don’t remember her name. When Zarefsky introduced her he mentioned that “she had served in every conceivable position.” I guffawed, but no one else had even the slightest reaction. It was a little embarrassing.

A unique feature of the Novice Nationals was the way that the schedule for the preliminary rounds was determined. All eight rounds were set before the tournament began. They divided the country into four geographical sections. Each team met two teams from each section. I really liked this format.

Northwestern drew the line through Ypsi.

At the assembly one of Northwestern’s many coaches announced that the staff was having a contest. I don’t remember what the prize was, but they challenged the attendees to deduce the determinants of the sections. I spent a little time on this and submitted my list of teams in each section. At the final assembly they announced that there had only been one entry in the contest. They awarded me the prize and announced that I had only made one mistake. I think that I had Central Michigan and the University of Detroit in the wrong groups. The dividing line between the eastern group and the east-central group went through Ypsilanti MI.

After seven rounds Bob and Dean still had a chance to qualify for the elimination rounds. Unfortunately in the last round they faced a very good team from the University of Kentucky. Bob and Dean were on the negative. I had judged UK’s case several times, and we had plenty of time to prepare for this round.

I suggested to the guys that they should use the Emory switch in this round. That is, Dean would give his plan attacks in the first negative. Bob would analyze the advantages claimed by the affirmative in the second negative. In addition, Bob might be able to answer part of the second affirmative’s refutation of Dean’s disadvantages. Dean would have the entire five-minute 1NR to resuscitate his plan attacks. Bob would give the 2NR and pick the best arguments to sell. He had never done this speech before, but he had a lot of experience with this speech, and the mindset is similar.

The guys agreed to try it. Kentucky still won the debate, but both Bob and Dean thought that the switch gave them an enormous tactical advantage. They both thought that they would have been embarrassed if they had used their standard approach.

One of the Kentucky debaters later talked with me about the switch. She complained that the Michigan team only did that because they knew that they could not win with the usual strategy. This was, of course, true. She did not claim that the switch was illegal or unethical. She did not even argue that it was inappropriate for a novice tournament. When I asked her if Bob and Dean should have just rolled over and conceded, she just walked away.

It just occurred to me that this might have been Bob and Dean’s final debate. I wonder.

The first tournament for the four varsity debaters was again at Western Illinois. Wayne, Mitch, Don, and Stewart piled in Greenie and I drove them to Macomb. I don’t remember the details of this trip, but Wayne Miller has assured me that he and Mitch made it to the final round.

On Saturday at this tournament I must have had a round off from judging. I remember walking by myself over to Hanson Field where I watched part of a varsity football game through the chainlink fence. I don’t remember whom the Leathernecks played that day or what the score was. It wasn’t Michigan Stadium, but it was real football, and I enjoyed it.

The highlight of this tournament for Wayne Miller was not the trophy that he fondled through most of the grueling return trip. It was learning the saga of Herm the Sperm, which I related somewhere in the middle of the Land of Lincoln.

Herm was an extremely industrious sperm. He started every morning with his Daily Dozen, a set of exercises design to maximize his strength, stamina, and—above all—speed. The afternoons he spent in the pool working on his strokes. His goal was to be not just the best sperm, but the best in every stroke—butterfly, backstroke, and freestyle.
Herm had nothing but contempt for the other sperm. “Go ahead,” he told them. “Just sit there lounging around smoking cigarettes. One day, when the lights flash and the alarms sound, you’ll regret it. That’s when it will be every sperm for himself, and you just know that the first one to reach and penetrate the egg will be none other than yours truly, Herm the Sperm.”
A few of the sperm tried to emulate his devotion and energy, but they soon gave up. Herm had set the bar too high.

Then one day the lights did flash and the alarms did blare. Sure enough, Herm sped past the tens of millions of his brethren. They knew they could never pass him, but they still pressed forward. That is just what they were designed to do.
Then, to their amazement they saw Herm attempting the hopeless task of swimming against the stream. “Get back!” he cried at the top of his lungs. “Get back! It’s a blow job!”

My recollection of the rest of the tournament schedule is very spotty. Wayne and Mitch usually qualified for the elimination rounds, but they did not win any tournaments. Some of the specific recollections that I have don’t concern debating or coaching.

I remember standing with Mitch at the back of the auditorium at Emory University in Atlanta. The debate director was a formidable woman with a powerful voice, Melissa Maxcy⁴. Mitch could not help himself. He turned to me and whispered, “Thunder Woman!”

The Georgetown tournament was memorable for a couple of reasons. Stewart asked me to point out some of the more famous debaters. Our guys had on suits or at least sports jackets. One pair that Stewart was interested in was Ringer and Mooney, the guys from Catholic University whose affirmative case legalized marijuana. I said, “See that guy over there playing the air guitar and the tall skinny guy in the flannel shirt and the worn-out jeans. They are Ringer and Mooney.”

Bill Davey stopped in at the tournament to work the room laying on his inestimable charm. At the time he was clerking for Supreme Court Justice Potter Stewart. He already knew Wayne and Mitch. I introduced him to Don and Stewart.

All the guys on the U-M team were much more comfortable debating affirmative. I told them about how successful Bill and I had been on the negative with the Emory switch. Wayne was not interested, but Mitch was rather eager to try it. As much as anything, I think that he just wanted to start his 1NC with “Flip your flows; here come the P.O.’s.”⁵

The most popular case that year called for the termination of nuclear power plants. Wayne found an article in which the author stated that leaving the uranium in the ground would cost thousands of lives because of the radiation from some element, radium I think. He thought that this evidence absolutely destroyed the “nukes” cases.

I was always skeptical about claims that appear in only one article. I pointed out to Wayne that the article did not specify over how many years these deaths would occur. It turned out that the half-life of radium was over sixteen hundred years!

Mitch and Wayne were at one point were experiencing difficulties with their Army Corps case when Mitch was asked in the first cross-x period, “How much is a human life worth?” No matter what Mitch responded, the negative had a clear path to a worrisome plan attack. I suggested that Mitch respond with a question:”Do you mean under the plan?” When they answered yes, he would then say that it would be “exactly the same as under the current system.” This seemed to work.

I could be wrong, but I think that only three of us went on the “Eastern swing” trip to Boston. I got angry at Mitch when he reported that he could not find a critical piece of evidence in a recently concluded round. I flung my legal pad across Harvard Yard in disgust.

My philosophy was, “If you can’t find it, you ain’t got it.” I did not think that anyone whom I coached spent enough time keeping his/her evidence orderly. One of my major frustrations in coaching was that I could never convince any debaters to implement my policy of numbering every divider section and putting that number on every card in that section.

I did a fair amount of research on prisons. I was convinced that a really strong case could be made for prison reform. Don and Stewart added it to their solar power case for a while, but they usually emphasized the solar case in rebuttals.

Debaters in those days wrote their names on the blackboard. Wayne and Mitch liked to goof around a little if they thought that the judge would appreciate it. They would sometimes call themselves “Mitch Egan” and “Wolva Reenes”. For Carl Flaningam of Butler they called themselves the Schidt Brothers, Sacco and Peesa.

As I mentioned, the top two debaters from Catholic University, Ringer and Mooney, ran an affirmative case that legalized marijuana. It was exceptionally difficult to attack. Their plan included a federal board to oversee the plan; they would sometimes even specify that the judge for the round would be a member of the board. However, all of the advantages came from legalizing cannabis, not regulating it. I suggested that we run a counterplan that was basically their plan without the board. We used it when we faced them, but we never defeated them.

I was conscientious about turning in my expense reports promptly after tournaments, but I don’t think that I earned any Brownie points with the department’s administration.

My most embarrassing moment in the seven years that I spent at U-M came during the high school debate tournament. It fell to me to announce the results at the final assembly. I made a serious error in scoring the speaker points, and, needless to say, no one checked my work. Some of the people to whom I awarded trophies did not deserve them. I had to purchase duplicate trophies for the real winners and send to all the schools that attended letters that acknowledged and apologized for the mistake.

Don Goldman and I went out for a drink after we found this out. It was the only time in my entire life that I really felt compelled to drown my sorrows.

In each octafinal pairing the sum of the seeds should be 17. If favored teams win, the sum of their seeds should be 9, 5, and 3 in subsequent round.

At some point I noticed that the tournament brackets that Dr. Colburn had provided in an appendix to his book on debate were wrong. At first he denied it, but in the end he admitted that I was right. I guess that no one checked his work either.

For the district tournament Wayne and Mitch decided to use Don Huprich’s case on solar heating and cooling. I am not sure whether this was my idea or theirs, but I definitely supported it. Don helped them a lot to prepare.

Augustana and Northwestern again received first round bids to the National Debate Tournament, and again no other team from District 5 received one.

Wayne and Mitch went 6-2 at districts and qualified comfortably. So, we finally got to go to the NDT, which was sponsored by Boston College, but held at a hotel in downtown Boston.

I don’t remember who paid for the trip. We definitely took Greenie across Canada again. Wayne and Mitch finished in the middle of the pack.

The weather was good, and the ladies of the evening were out in the Combat Zone.

I have only two strong memories. One was from the evening on which we accidentally wandered into Boston’s Combat Zone, which was only a few blocks from the hotel. This was a completely new experience for a Catholic lad from Kansas.

I also recall the evening that we spent exchanging evidence and ideas in the room of one of the debaters from, I think, Eastern Illinois. They had no idea what to say against Catholic’s marijuana case. We told them about our counterplan. They were intrigued enough to write it down. Mitch pontificated the opening sentence for them: “Once upon a time, when men were men and giants roamed the earth …”

Once again the only teams from District 5 that made it to the elimination rounds were the two pairs that received first-round bids, Northwestern and Augustana. The tournament was won by Robin Rowland⁷ and Frank Cross⁸ from KU, the two guys for whom I voted in the first elimination round that I ever judged at the tournament in Kentucky in 1974.

The drive back was long but by no means onerous.

Later we learned that the team’s budget had been cut drastically for 1975-76. For most purposes the program had been eliminated. Dr. Colburn’s title was still Director of Forensics, but the budget was not sufficient to attract anyone who was serious about debate. I still had a class or two to take, but I would not be the coach of that team. Don Goldman had finished his masters. I don’t know what he did next.

1. “Basketball Jones featuring Tyrone Shoelaces” was a popular song released in 1973 by Cheech and Chong. They somehow convinced an unbelievable assortment of people to help them. The song’s Wikipedia page is here.

Bob Jones contacted me in 2018 or 2019 about finding a bridge club in southeast Connecticut. He is a Diamond Life Master, a very high rank. In 2021 he lives in Marietta he lives in Marietta, GA.

2. Tom Rollins has had a fascinating career. You can read about some of it on his LinkedIn page. Among other things he founded The Teaching Company. I purchased several of its courses. I enjoyed listening to them on my Walkman while jogging.

3. In the twenty-first century laptops have replaced paper in nearly every area of debate, including note-taking.

4. In 2021 Melissa (Maxcy) Wade is the Executive Director Emeritus of the Barkley Forum at Emory University. To read about her career click on her picture on this webpage.

5. P.O. is short for plan objection. This includes disadvantages and arguments that the plan will not accomplish what the affirmative team claims.

6. Carl Flaningam practices law in Skokie, IL. His LinkedIn page is here.

7. Robin Rowland has taken to wearing bow ties at KU. His Wikipedia page is here.

8. Frank Cross died in 2019. His obituary is here.

1974-1975 U-M: Debate

Posted on February 26, 2021 by Mike

First year of coaching. Continue reading →

The topic in intercollegiate debate remained the same all year. The one for 1974-75 was “Resolved: That the powers of the Presidency should be significantly curtailed.” At nearly all major tournaments teams debated an equal number of rounds on both sides of the question in the preliminary rounds. A primer on the mechanics of college debate tournaments can be read here.

This topic, by the way, was very similar to the one that was debated when I was a junior in college: “Resolved: That executive control of United States foreign policy should be significantly curtailed. I felt that I was slightly ahead of the game.

The first tournament on the docket was at Western Illinois University in Macomb, IL. In preparation for the tournament I scheduled a couple of practice debates. The guys were much better than I anticipated. They certainly were better than the four people who participated in the exhibition debate at the beginning of freshman year. I could not imagine how Wayne Miller and Dan Gaunt compiled a record of 0-8 at districts in the previous spring. They only won four ballots out of twenty-four!

Aside from helping get the debaters ready, I needed to do a good bit of administrative work to prepare for this tournament and all the others:

The host university should have mailed an invitation with a registration form to the team. If we did not have one, I needed to contact them somehow to request one. I don’t think that I ever actually did this. Long distance calls were costly in those days.
In that first year I asked the guys about the quality of the tournaments. A lot could have changed in the four years since I had debated. For example, I did not remember ever hearing of Western Illinois’s debate team, much less its tournament.
I needed to project out how much it would cost to attend. I had to pay for tournament entry fees, gasoline, tolls, housing, and the per diem for food. Credit cards were a new thing in 1974; I did not obtain one until more than a decade later. So, I always asked for a little more than I planned to spend and brought some of my own money, too. I had to plan out the whole year to make sure that enough money was left over for the district tournament. If we qualified for the National Debate Tournament, we would beg, borrow, or steal what we needed.
Here is a list of factors determining the cost of each tournament:
- Who will accompany the debaters? Usually I did, but Don Goldman had to judge at a certain number of tournaments in order to be allowed to judge at districts. Occasionally we got someone else. No one accompanied the guys on the trip to California.
- How were we getting to the tournament? We never rented a car, but we might need to reimburse wear and tear.
- How many teams were we sending? There must be enough room in the vehicle to hold them.
- Where were we staying and what was the cost?
If I decided that we were going, I filled out the registration form and mailed it in.
A few days before we left I submitted a request to the department’s secretary. Dr. Colburn probably had to sign these.
The day before we left I picked up the money for the tournament in cash.

We were expected to get receipts for all expenses. Sometimes that was not feasible. For example, snack machines at gas stations and hotels do not give receipts.

So, I bought a book of receipts. They were the familiar kind that a waitress at a diner might use. If I was missing a receipt, I would write one up myself or ask one of the debaters to forge one. We spent so pitifully little money that I figured that no one could conceivably complain, and, in fact, no one did.

The drive to Western Illinois was a long one, longer than Google shows here. The speed limit in 1974 was 55 miles per hour on all Interstates, and I could not afford even one ticket. I religiously followed the speed limit, and even if I hadn’t, Greenie’s 68 horses pushing a maximum load would struggle to reach 60.

When I looked at the invitation from Western Illinois I discovered that Dale Hample¹, whom I knew from my debating days, was now the debate coach at WIU. He represented “that school down south”. We debated several times. The only one that I clearly remembered was the one at districts.

I decided to bring two teams in Greenie to Western Illinois. My recollection is that the area behind the backseat was loaded from floor to ceiling with debate materials, and everyone had a briefcase or something equally awkward on his lap. Three large males were crammed in the pack seat. I calculate that we must have spent over the entire trip in those uncomfortable conditions. I drove all the way with the seat pulled so far forward that my knees nearly touched the steering column. No one complained.

For much of my information about the debate team’s adventures I have relied on the recollections of Wayne Miller. Any mistakes are definitely his fault.

At Western Illinois Wayne debated with Dan Gaunt, and Mitch Chyette debated with Mike Kelly. Wayne and Dan ran a case that provided Congress access to all information in the executive branch in order to prevent presidents from engaging in misadventures like Vietnam. They qualified for the elimination rounds and made it to the quarterfinals. Mitch and Mike finished in the middle of the pack.

A king and queen would be needed to call parliament. I was thinking Cary Grant and Elizabeth Taylor. They were born in England.

The very first debate that I judged was one of the worst that I ever heard. Illinois College’s affirmative case proposed to replace the entire executive and legislative branches with a “parliamentary system”. This may or may not have been a good idea, but the affirmative debaters presented no proof of any substantial improvement. The negative from Morehead State could not think of any very good arguments against it either. I ended up voting for Morehead, but I gave by far the lowest speaker points of any judge in the entire tournament—10, 8, 8, and 6 on a thirty-point scale.

I was not chosen to judge any elimination rounds, probably because my assessment of those teams seemed, at best, squirrelly. In the next six years of judging I never again gave anything close to those points. I probably overreacted. All four debaters were bad, but there was no sense in rubbing their noses in it.

The judges’ ballots were carbonless forms. The tournament kept the top white copy and distributed to the teams the pink and yellow copies. On the way back to Ann Arbor we had plenty of time to go over the comments of the judges in each round. We then filed the ballots alphabetically by the last name of the judge in an accordion file that we brought to all tournaments. Whenever we were assigned a judge with whom we were not familiar, we would check the file to see if he had judged any of our teams. It was very important to try to understand how different judges react to various types of arguments or presentations.

I drove Dan and Wayne down to Lexington for our second tournament at the University of Kentucky. This tournament attracted top teams from all over the country. The Wolverines did very well. They were 7-1 in the preliminary rounds and made it to the quarterfinals.

The Kentucky tournament was memorable for me because I judged my first elimination round. It featured the future national champions, Robin Rowland and Frank Cross from Kansas University against the University of Wyoming. The other judges on the panel were extremely distinguished—David Zarefsky² from Northwestern, Jim Unger³ from Georgetown, Harold Lawson⁴ from Ohio State, and Bill Southworth⁵ from Redlands. I was a nobody.

My ballot was the last one turned in. I went over all the arguments very carefully. All five of us voted for KU. While driving home I realized that if I had voted for the Cowboys, I might have been “sat out” by the most celebrated panel of all time. If so, that might have been the last elimination round that I was ever allowed to judge. Word spreads quickly if you cast too many questionable ballots.

John Lawson’s debate career at Michigan exactly coincided with the period that I had been in the Army and then employed at the Hartford Life. He knew Bill Davey, Mike Hartmann, and Bill Black, and he had probably heard stories about me. I am not sure what he was doing in 1974-75. His LinkedIn page says that he got a teaching certificate at U-M in 1975. Maybe he was working on that.

In any case John agreed to accompany the guys to the most important tournament of the fall semester at Georgetown. I don’t remember the results, but their drive back was memorable. They were caught in a snowstorm and were trapped in the Allegheny tunnel, which is well over a mile long, for some time. Not a good situation for a claustrophobic.

At some point early in the year Paul Caghan, who was debating with Don Huprich, asked me to come to his apartment to work with him on his affirmative case. I think that it proposed to eliminate the CIA. I almost never turned down a request for assistance.

Paul’s apartment was located a mile or two north of the main campus. Most U-M undergraduates who lived off-campus—and a large number of students did—sought reasonably priced accommodations in old houses that were within walking distance of campus. I was therefore surprised to find Paul living in a really nice, modern, and spacious apartment in a regular apartment building.

Paul and I were creating “blocks” for his case. We listed arguments that opponents might be likely to use and prepared “canned” responses to them. This process frees up more time for other things in the debates themselves. Everyone did it, even in my day.

Paul and I made quite a bit of progress for an hour or so. We were seated at the kitchen table, on which were spread Paul’s debate materials.Then the doorbell rang. Paul got up to answer it. I stayed in my chair.

A large Black guy was at the door. Paul greeted him and, ignoring me, escorted him back to the bedroom. They were in there for fifteen or twenty minutes with the door closed. Then they walked together to the front door, and the big guy left. This was not my first rodeo; I had a pretty good notion of what had transpired, but I held my tongue.

Paul came to see me in the debate office to discuss the debate program’s funding a few times. The first subject was the stipend that had been available for decades to one female debater at U-M every year. Paul said that in the previous year he had arranged with Dr. Colburn for her to be awarded the money, which she then had returned to the team to help pay expenses. He said that she would do it again in 1974-75. I just had to give her name to Dr. Colburn. I did so, and the debate budget was instantly boosted by 40 percent.

Paul also had devised a plan for funding the entire program outside of the speech department. He had his eye on two sources—the university’s summer debate institute for high school students and the high school debate tournament held at U-M. I knew nothing about either one. If they existed when I debated, I heard nothing of them. Both of these activities were run by an obscure administrative department far from the speech department in the Frieze Building.

Paul showed me materials that he had created to promote the institute and the tournament nationwide and thereby to increase their revenue-generating capacity markedly. He asked me for help in putting the case before the administration.

I knew nothing about dealing with the bureaucracy of a huge university. I did know that it would be easy to step on someone’s toes, and the person with sore toes would be likely to fight back. Before one attempted anything like this, it was crucial to understand the politics. I came back to Michigan to coach debate. The last thing that I wanted to do was to become involved in a political war. As they say in the military, “That’s above my pay grade.” So, I declined to help Paul with this project⁶, and I did not hear about it again. A few years later I did come to understand the politics, and I was very glad that I had avoided a confrontation.

I remember taking one trip with Paul. Wayne Miller’s brother lent us his car to drive to the tournament at Emory University in Atlanta. I drove most of the way, but after sunset I became sleepy. Paul volunteered to drive. Several times I excoriated him for driving too fast, but he persisted. He just had a lead foot. Somewhere in Tennessee we ran over a deer. The deer was lying on the highway, presumably dead. We all saw it in the headlights, but at the speed that Paul was driving he was unable to avoid it.

The gas gauge immediately showed empty. We stopped to check whether the fuel tank had been ruptured. Fortunately, the tank was intact, but the gauge no longer worked. I later had to pay Wayne’s brother to replace it.

I have no recollection of Paul attending any tournaments after Emory.

We also attended a tournament at Bradley University in Peoria, IL, at some point in the autumn. I don’t remember anything about it. Don Goldman may have escorted the debaters.

The two novices, Tim Beyer and Stewart Mandel definitely attended at least a couple of tournaments in the fall, but I am not sure which ones.

Over the Christmas break four of the guys—Wayne, Dan, Mitch, and Mike—flew to California to debate in tournaments at UCLA and Redlands. I paid the entry fees out of the budget, but they paid their own expenses, including travel and lodging. It was probably a great experience for them, but the results were strictly mediocre.

Since Dan Gaunt decided against debating in the second semester, Wayne needed a new partner. Wayne had always been a first negative, and so had Mike Kelly. So, the adjustment would be easier for Mitch, who had debated second negative all year. Mitch was probably also at least a little better than Mike. I paired Mike with Don Huprich for the second semester.

The first tournaments in January were in Boston. Boston College, MIT, and Harvard held nearly consecutive tournaments. I originally intended for us to attend all three, but I had accidentally “mailed” the registration form for MIT into a trash can on State Street in Ann Arbor.

We attended both BC and Harvard in 1975 and 1976. One year both Sue and I drove with two debaters each. The other year I drove by myself with Wayne and Mitch. My recollection, which may be wrong, is that the two-car year was 1975. Here is what happened.

We planned to drive both Greenie and Sue’s Dodge Colt across Ontario and reenter the United States north of Buffalo. We knew that the border security at the Detroit-Windsor end would be trivial. Thousands of people worked in one city and lived in the other. The biggest TV station in the Detroit area was CKLW in Windsor. Its signal could easily be picked up in Plymouth.

However, by the time that we reached the border between Ontario and New York we had been driving for a long time, we were tired, and we probably looked it. Sue and I were driving small cars with a great deal of luggage—six suitcases plus a large number of briefcases and large steel file boxes that each contained hundreds of 4″x6″ cards on which were written quotes to be used as evidence in debates. Don and Mike were passengers in Sue’s car. Both of them had short hair, and Sue was dressed respectably. On the other hand, Wayne and I both had rather long hair. Mitch had very curly hair that resembled Harpo Marx’s. All three of us wore blue jeans, and I sported a beard. I also wore a cowboy hat, coat, and boots suitable for riding the range.

The border agents swooped down on Greenie. They made us remove everything from the car. They wanted to know what we were trying to bring into the U.S. I explained that we were debaters going to Boston from the University of Michigan and that we were carrying a lot of debate materials—cards and paper. They made us open everything, and they spent the better part of an hour examining our gear.They found nothing. Then they let us all go.

They ignored Sue’s car. I later learned that Don had brought some marijuana in his suitcase. He had been sweating bullets during the border check. I made it clear to him that he was never to bring dope on debate trips again. I cannot even imagine how much trouble he would have been in then, and I would have been in the soup when we returned.

I think that we stayed in an apartment in Boston during the BC tournament. This was arranged by a guy named Bill Topping. I am not positive, but I think that Sue stayed at her parents’ house in Enfield, CT, while the preliminary rounds were going on. She came back to Boston for the elimination rounds. I know that she sat next to me for a debate that included Larry Summers from MIT, who later became the President of Harvard and then Secretary of the Treasury. He won that round, but he did not win the tournament. Neither did either of our teams.

In between the two tournaments we stayed overnight in the Hartford area. Sue and I stayed with Jim and Ann Cochran. I remember that we tried to play bridge in the evening. Sue and I were partners. She knew a little about the game, but she had a strange aversion to drawing trump. On two hands in a row she was declaring a makeable contract. After the first hand we all patiently explained that if you were playing in a suit contract, and you needed more than one or two tricks in a side suit, you first needed to lead out trumps until the opponents had none.

On the next hand—the next hand!—she faced a similar situation and neglected to draw trump. I banged my fist down on the table so hard that the table broke. I may have imbibed a beer or two.

It was great to see some of my friends again. Jim and Ann may not have been as enthusiastic.

The guys did not stay with us at the Cochrans. I think that they stayed in Enfield with Sue’s relatives.

Wayne and Mitch finished in the middle of the pack at Harvard, too. On the second evening Mike and Don decided to try a pizza place that was not on the tournament’s list of recommended restaurants. They both got sick and had to forfeit a round or two. They were much better by the time that we were ready to leave.

Huprich disposed of his marijuana. I did not ask him how. The trip back was blessedly uneventful.

Northwestern sponsored the biggest tournament in the district. I remember that it was very cold at this tournament every year that I attended. I met Wayne’s friend Howard Kirschbaum, who went to school there. He remarked that he planned to get his degree in three years. This astounded me. Why would anyone want to cut short what was undoubtedly the most enjoyable period of one’s life? College life was ideal; the real world not so much.

Wayne and Mitch qualified at the tournament, but they lost in the first elimination round to an extremely good team from Redlands.

Don Goldman took Tim and Stewart to a lower-level varsity tournament at the University of Detroit. The guys had an unbelievably good tournament. They made it all the way to the final round!

The last varsity tournament before districts was at Butler University in Indianapolis. This was an important tournament for us because we did not attend a lot of the tournaments in the district. Some of the judges from other schools in the district may not have seen much of us. Wayne and Mitch qualified again, but they were eliminated soon enough that they were able to watch Howard Kirschbaum, a little the worse for wear, lose in the semifinals. I must have been judging the other semifinal round, but I don’t remember it.

The high school tournament sponsored by U-M was held at some point in the second semester. Don Goldman designed the schedule, which had been advertised as protecting teams from facing other teams in their district. Don had received an outdated list of the districts, and that is what he used. A few of the coaches were upset because we scheduled their teams to meet teams from their districts.

My job was to make sure that there were judges every round. Dr. Colburn ran the assembly at which the awards were handed out.

I took Tim and Stewart to Novice Nationals, which was also held at Northwestern. We stayed at (I think) a Holiday Inn in Evanston, quite close to the university. During the night someone broke into the room shared by the three of us. I woke up to see in the dim light someone rummaging through the pockets of a pair of pants that belonged to one of the guys. I yelled at the intruder. He immediately ran away. I called the desk. They sent a security guard to our room. We determined that we had not lost anything. I always slept with my wallet under my pillow.

We later learned that the thief had been apprehended. Ours was the last room. He had already burgled several room using a passkey obtained from a maid.

I have a vague recollection that Tim and Stewart qualified at Novice Nationals, but, if so, they did not get very far in the elimination rounds.

During the entire season I had religiously kept careful records of our expenses. I had collected receipts to justify every expense. However, I had only turned in receipts to the department’s secretary for one or two tournaments. Before districts I had to get caught up. It’s not as if I had been lazy or dishonest. I just spent almost every waking moment trying to help prepare the debaters. I did as much research as anyone.

I presented all of the receipts and expense forms to the department head’s secretary. I do not remember her name. Evidently she was shocked and angered that she had to spend so much time processing these forms. The next day her boss, Edgar Willis⁷, summoned me to his office.

It was not a pleasant meeting. He began by telling me that I had upset his secretary by dumping all of my travel reports at once. I apologized, and I mentioned that no one had made me aware of any schedule or deadline for submitting them. During the debate season I had had very little time for paperwork. Now that it was almost over I had a little time.

He then asked me about the scholarship to the female debater, Paul Caghan’s girlfriend. He wanted to know why she did not go to any tournaments. I told him that she had said that she did not want to attend any. This was completely true.

Then he accused me of prejudice against women because I only recruited male debaters. I was happy that the interrogation turned in that direction. I explained very sincerely that recruiting was not part of my job. I insisted that I had never talked to anyone, whether a current U-M student or a high school debater who was coming to U-M, about joining the debate team.

He then complained about the way that the debaters talked. He said that several faculty members had overheard practice rounds in which the people were speaking at a rate that was almost incomprehensible. This was true. It takes a lot of practice to learn how to listen to debaters. I explained that debate was a timed event. If a speaker did not have time to answer an argument, the other side would by default win that argument. Thus, a primary focus was to make sure that every important argument received attention. Speed was one factor, but so were economy of language and the ability to assess the impact of arguments in order to devote time on important ones. We worked on all of these things.

Finally Dr. Willis wanted to know why we needed to travel to Boston and Atlanta and California for tournaments. He said that he was sure that schools in Michigan and Ohio held tournaments that we could attend. I replied that we did attend some of those, but the level of competition at most of the closest tournaments was too low for our varsity debaters. Fortunately, I had a great example to support this argument. Two freshmen, Tim and Stewart, had recently finished second at the U-D tournament. After that he let me go back to work, chastened but unbowed.

As usual there were twenty-four teams at the district qualifying tournament for NDT. Two teams, Northwestern and Augustana College, had received first-round bids.⁸ The second teams from those two schools competed at districts. I thought that Wayne and Mitch had a pretty good chance of qualifying, but I figured that they would need some luck. They debated pretty well. Their 5-3 record was good enough to qualify. However, one other 5-3 team, Wayne’s friends from Western Illinois, had more ballots, and they received the final bid.

I wanted to apply for a second-round bid. After all, Wayne and Mitch were the next team in line to qualify, and they had a pretty good record overall. I tried to get Dr. Colburn to sign the application, but he would not do it. He said that the department would not authorize it. I asked him why not. At first he said that there was no money available. When I said that we would find money somewhere, he said that the department would still not approve it.

I did not know what to say. I felt crushed and betrayed. On the other hand, only Mike Kelly would be graduating. We really could wait until next year.

1. Dale Hample is now at the University of Maryland. He even has a Wikipedia page.

2. In 2021 David Zarefsky is still at Northwestern University.

3. Jim Unger coached at Georgetown and then at American University. He died in 2008. His Wikipedia page is here.

4. Harold Lawson died in either 1999 or 2000. At the time he was the debate coach at Central Missouri State University.

5. In 2021 Bill Southworth is still at Redlands.

The debate team’s headquarters is now in the storied Michigan Union.

6. Decades later Michigan became a national power in debate. The program was established outside of any academic department. The funding for the team comes primarily from the two sources that Paul identified. In the 2020-21 school year the team received two first round at-large bids to the NDT. According to the coach, Aaron Kall, the third team also probably would have received a bid, but the rules limited each school to two.

7. Professor Willis died in 2014 at the age of 100. His obituary can be read here.

8. Northwestern and Augustana both made the elimination rounds at NDT. None of the district qualifiers did. Both teams lost in the Octafinals. Baylor emerged as the Champion.

1974 August-September: Transition to Ann Arbor

Posted on February 20, 2021 by Mike

Before and after the move. Continue reading →

In early August of 1974 Sue and I drove out to Michigan to arrange for housing in or near Ann Arbor. I also wanted to consult with Dr. Colburn about my new responsibilities. We found a suitable apartment to rent on Sheldon Rd. in Plymouth, about midway between Ann Arbor and Detroit. We figured that Sue would probably be able to find a job without much trouble.

We brought our tent and camping equipment with us to save money on hotel rooms. After a few nights in the campgrounds we decided to splurge on a room for one night at a Ma & Pa motel. We chose the best possible night for it: on August 8, 1974, Nixon resigned as President, and we were able to watch him live on television. I was absolutely ecstatic. Everything seemed to be working out for me.

I think that Sue’s apartment in Andover was in the indicated building. This complex is now called Whispering Hills.

Shortly after our return to Andover we hosted a going-away party at the apartment. Absolutely everyone came. It lasted most of the night. I don’t remember very many details, but I definitely recall that when Herget’s girlfriend Mel kissed me goodbye, she REALLY kissed me. I was quite astounded by it.

The guys with whom I played golf gave me a yellow golf ball that they had all signed. I kept the ball for a long time, but I could not find it when I posted this page in 2021.

Puca’s cage has for some reason been relegated to the front porch and delicately balanced on its side. The light is actually at the top of the cage.

I am not certain whether we hired professional movers or just rented a trailer or truck to transport our stuff to Plymouth. We brought both cars. I don’t think that either of them could pull a trailer. The most likely scenario was that we rented a truck, and Sue drove it while towing her Dodge Colt.

The barnboard shelves are now in our basement. Puca’s cage fits in the area marked with a red rectangle.

Because Sue had Puca¹ with her, we needed to take the southern route through Pennsylvania and Ohio. It is not generally advisable to try to cross two international borders with a snake. The move, thank goodness, was relatively uneventful, but we were both quite excited about starting the upcoming adventure together.

Our new dwelling was in a large house that had been converted into four apartments. Ours was on the ground floor on the southern side (on the right in the photo). The apartment had a bedroom, a living room, and a kitchen. Sue had acquired a double bed somewhere, and we put the waterbed in the living room. Puca’s cage was situated in the barnboard shelves that Dennis Comparetto had designed and built to hold him. We had a kitchen table and chairs and some dressers. We might have had a chair in the living room and/or a nightstand in the bedroom. Of course, we also brought my color TV and stereo and a few other necessities such as Sue’s cast-iron treadle-powered Singer sewing machine. The apartment came with a stove, refrigerator, and dishwasher.

A sewing machine should weigh as much as its operator, right?

The apartment had only one heating unit. It was a cube that was about 3.5 feet on a side. At least it did not require oil, as many heating systems in New England did (and still do). It was located in the living room near the door to the bedroom. As long as we kept the bedroom door open in the winter, this was not too inconvenient. Puca’s cage had a built-in heating lamp.

Tenants from all four units parked in front of the building. This might have been a problem if all four residents had two cars, but I do not remember the space ever being overcrowded. However, if anyone is considering moving to Michigan, I would not recommend outdoor parking. In fact, now that I have had a garage for a few years, I would not recommend outdoor parking anywhere. However, in those days we were in our twenties, and the cold and snow did not seem as bothersome.

Sue began hunting for a job. In a fairly short time she found one at an insurance company (it might have been an agency) in downtown Plymouth.

We also discovered plenty of nice paces to shop, including the first “super store” that either of us had ever seen. Meijer’s Thrify Acres (now just called Meijer), which was only three and half miles south of our house in Canton, was a huge supermarket that also sold just about anything that one could buy at KMart. They also had an employee named Marv who often was the cashier in the express lane. He was the most efficient at ringing and bagging that I have ever seen. I never saw him falter.

I started commuting to Ann Arbor. It was a fairly easy drive 90 percent of the time. The most likely problems were at both ends—getting Greenie to start in Plymouth and finding a parking spot in Ann Arbor. In cold weather I sometimes poured hot water directly on the engine before trying to start it. Once or twice I had to hitch-hike, which was not ideal. Fortunately, the people who gave me rides were uniformly friendly. I soon learned which side streets north of the Frieze building were likely sources of available parking. None of this bothered me at all.

This allowed everyone to take advantage of research done by others.

During one of those first few days Dr. Colburn showed me where the debate office was. It was the smallest room on the second floor, but it was more than we had when I was debating—nothing. There were a couple of desks there, and a mimeograph machine. Dr. Colburn informed me that the team’s annual budget was $2500 plus whatever we made on the high school debate tournament that a separate area of the University sponsored. We had no control over how many teams entered or what the entry fee was. We had to run the tournament, and all that we received were the judging fees that the U-M debaters and a few supporters forwent and donated to the team. There was also still a stipend ($1,000 if memory serves) available to one female debater. This “scholarship” dated back to the fifties, but I never heard of anyone actually receiving any money when I was debating. I don’t think that we even had any female debaters when I was a freshman or senior.

In short, the program was even more pitifully underfunded than I expected. However, I was definitely up for the challenge.

I was not required to teach, but Dr. Colburn had arranged for me to get a grant of a few thousand dollars. My job was to coach debate. Period.

I learned that the previous debate season had ended in catastrophe. I was never sure of the details, but I do remember these facts: 1) Dr. Colburn was the only staff member from the previous year’s team who was still involved with it. 2) Two sophomores had represented U-M at the previous district qualifying tournament and lost all eight rounds. So, both of my stints at U-M began the year following 0-8 performances at districts.

I met the other debate coach for the upcoming year, Don Goldman. He had just graduated from Middle Tennessee State University (MTSU—pronounced MITT su), which was not exactly a debate powerhouse. He was pursuing a masters in speech, and part of his duties included teaching a class or two. He knew very little about debate, and he was four years younger than I was. Fortunately, he was very easy to get along with, he was quite willing to travel to some tournaments, and he did not at all object to me making all the decisions and doing the lion’s share of the coaching. His wife Terry was also nice.

Schlesinger’s best-seller was published in 1973.

The topic for the 1974-75 school year was “Resolved: That the powers of the Presidency should be significantly curtailed.” This was remarkably similar to the resolution debated in my junior year (1968-69), but that one was limited to foreign policy. This topic was wide open. I suspected that the limitation afforded by the word “significantly” would be negligible.

A few things had changed significantly since my last debate round. Sixteen teams that did well at tournaments throughout the year received invitations to the National Debate Tournament before the district tournaments. Moreover, their schools were allowed to send their second team to districts. In addition, eight at-large bids were sent out after the district tournaments. I did not realize it at the time, but the total size of the field at NDT had also been increased from forty-four to fifty-two.

The primary purpose of the questioning is to establish areas of agreement, not to make the opponent squirm.

Formats of the debates themselves had also changed. Opponents were allowed three minutes of cross-questioning after each constructive speech. In my day high school tournaments had “cross-x”, but very few college tournaments did. Another significant change was that each team was allotted ten minutes of preparation time during the debate. In theory, debaters in my day took no prep time at all. When one speaker sat down, the next was expected to stand up and talk. However, some debaters took so long gathering their materials together to the extent that a few notorious teams were actually taking even more than ten minutes in total. The judges had no guidance as to how much leeway to allow. With the new rule the judges felt more comfortable ordering the timekeeper to start clocking the speech when the ten minutes of prep time were exhausted.

When the two three-minute periods of cross-x were taken into account, in 1974 and subsequent years each team had at least sixteen minutes in total to prepare speeches. What a change! If the debate was scheduled for a room near the library, the participants might have time to do a little research between speeches.

Within the first week I met all of the guys on the team. The district team the previous year had been Wayne Miller and Dan Gaunt. Mitch Chyette and Mike Kelly were ostensibly the second team, and Don Huprich and Paul Caghan rounded out the varsity. Two freshmen completed the team—Stewart Mandel and Tim Beyer. Mike was a senior, I think. Wayne, Dan, Mitch, and Paul were juniors. Don was a sophomore.

All these guys were from Michigan. They told me that there were quite a few other top debaters from the state who were going to school at Michigan. They knew about the team but did not want to debate. Unless one want to study agriculture or theology, U-M had the best reputation in the state. However, I suspect that the reputation of the debate program was much lower.

I also wondered how many good debaters from other states were hiding in the woodwork. There was no way to know. I would never feel right about trying to recruit anyone to participate in a program with such a paltry budget.

I met with the team. I told them who I was. I told them that I was committed to go to as many tournaments as possible within the constraints of the budget, and I was willing to drive my car. I said that we could only pay $5 per day for food; if anyone wanted more, he would need to buy it.

They were not at all daunted by the limitations. They were happy that U-M still had a program and excited about the new debating season and the fact that I was willing to spend a great deal of time helping anyone who wanted my attention. I did not know how much talent we had, but all of the guys had a good attitude.

1. Puca survived the trip to Michigan. He also survived the Michigan winters and the journey back to Connecticut. What’s left of him is hanging on a portable closet residing in our basement. Don’t ask me how he got there; I had nothing to do with it.

Wavablog

Memoirs, bridge, popes, travel, and other stuff

Tag Archives: Huprich, Don

1974-1977 Living in Plymouth, MI

1976-1977 U-M: Debate?

1975-1976 U-M: Debate

1974-1975 U-M: Debate

1974 August-September: Transition to Ann Arbor