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.

1967 U-M Spring Semester

Posted on September 18, 2020 by Mike

A lot of debate. A little class time. Continue reading →

Debate: If you need a primer about intercollegiate debate in this era, you can find it here.

I learned that my partner, Lee Hess, was in ZBT, the Jewish fraternity. He had attended New Trier High in the Chicago area. He claimed that his father was a “cowboy”, by which he meant that he traded futures on livestock prices. Lee had contacts all over the country. He was the complete opposite of me, a stranger in every town save one.

One tournament that I remember rather vividly was at Northwestern. I am pretty sure that we unveiled the moon case there. We ended up with a 1-7 record. My recollection of that “1” is not clear. Maybe we won one affirmative, but I suspect that the moon case exploded on the launch pad.

Jeff chased down the judges of a few of our affirmative rounds to ask them whether we lost the debate on topicality or on one of the substantive issues. I don’t remember what the answer was. It was inconceivable that we would run such a squirrelly case at the district tournament in March. So, I think that we decided to put our effort into patching up the holes in the case¹ that Lee and his partner had run in the first semester. I don’t recall the specifics, but I know that I learned a lot.

The process of debating at the varsity level was a more striking change for me than the actual debates. In high school and in the first semester at U-M we rode to tournaments in cars and/or buses. We always ate at places that emphasized quantity per dollar rather than quality or exotic tastes. We stayed in roadside ma and pa motels or at second- or third-rate hotels.

Early in 1967 Lee and I flew to Boston with Jeff Sampson for the annual debate tournament at Harvard. I had only flown on planes a very few times. I cannot remember previous flights except the ones to and from KC for the holiday break between semesters, and those were both using the program prevalent in that era by which students could fly standby for half-price.

Our first supper on this trip was at the legendary Jimmy’s Harborside in Boston. The three of us took a taxi from Cambridge. I suspect that this was the first time that I had ridden in a taxi.

I know for sure that this was the first time that I had ever eaten lobster. Jeff and Lee pressured me to try it. It seemed to me at the time (and ever since) that it was pretty much a tasteless vehicle for delivering melted butter to one’s mouth. Also, an excessive amount of effort was required to extract the meat. I did get to wear a bib for the first time since I learned to walk.

I am not sure where Jeff stayed, but Lee and I stayed in the dorm at Harvard. It in no way reminded me of Allen Rumsey House. It was a suite; each student had his own bedroom. One or two of the residents were present; the others were still on some sort of break. Lee and I stayed in an empty suite that featured—get this!—a loft with an extra bed. I vaguely recall that one of the missing suite-mates was the son of a U.S. Senator.

On the second night Lee arranged for a young lady whom he already knew from somewhere to visit us in the dorm. Lee produced a couple of bottles of wine and fed Frank Zappa and Fugs albums to the record player. I made myself as scarce as I could without leaving the room—where would I go? Pretty soon Lee and she went up to the loft, where they stayed until morning.

At that point we had debated seven rounds, four on the negative and three on the affirmative. I had no way to judge how well we were doing, but we had faced some pretty good teams. Since the last six rounds were power-matched, that is usually a good sign. Our opponent was the University of Texas, a pretty good team.

The girl was gone when I woke up. Lee was a mess. If we had been on the negative, we probably would have just forfeited. As 1A, Lee just had to read the constructive speech. The rebuttal would definitely be difficult, but Lee was determined to give it a try. We removed a sentence or two from the 1AC, but he still could not quite finish what was left in ten minutes. Nevertheless, we were still in contention until Lee’s rebuttal, which was unspeakably bad. I tried to pull it out in the last rebuttal, but it was hopeless. For the first time in my life I mentally blamed my partner for losing a debate. I only did it one other time.

I am uncertain how important that debate was. Both teams were either 4-3 or 5-2 going into the debate. If we were 5-2, it probably cost us qualifying for the octafinals. If we were 4-3, it only kept us from having a winning record.

Jeff did not yell at Lee, at least not in my presence.

Mike Denger became an anti-trust lawyer. — Mike Denger became a prominent anti-trust lawyer.

I don’t remember when it happened, but at some point I got to watch Northwestern’s team of David Zarefsky and Mike Denger debate in an elimination round against Georgetown, another national power. I was very impressed with all four debaters, but especially Denger, who had won the NDT the year before. It gave me something to aspire to.

At least once Dr. Colburn drove us on a debate trip. He liked to stop at Win Schuler’s restaurant, an institution in Michigan. Their specialty was prime rib. It was pretty late, and the place was almost empty by the time that we were finishing supper. Dr. Colburn had ordered a yard of beer, in which he had made little progress. A guy at the next table was giving him a good-natured hard time about it. Somehow a wager was made as to whether Dr. Colburn could finish the whole yard. Dr. Colburn promised that if he couldn’t, he would stand on his chair and sing “The Sweetheart of Sigma Chi.” The other guy offered to stand on his chair and sing “God Bless America” if Dr. Colburn finished it. Dr. C., not that far removed from his fraternity days at Sigma Chi at the University of Indiana, had little difficulty, and the other fellow paid off. We all applauded his performance.

Dr. Colburn never considered asking Lee or me to drive us back to Ann Arbor, but we made it in one piece.

Lee and I went 4-4 at districts with twelve ballots out of twenty-four. We had ascended to mediocrity.

Classes: My recollection is that I attended nine or ten debate tournaments during the semester. We ordinarily left Wednesday afternoon or early on Thursday and returned late on Sunday. So, I missed a lot of classes.

I remember almost nothing about Math 196. I attended less than half the classes. I don’t remember the teacher at all. I kept up with the textbook by studying for a couple of hours per week early in the morning. I ended up with a B, which was something of a triumph considering how little effort I expended.

Russian was a big problem. I had no time to go to the Language Lab to improve my listening skills, which were negligible. Furthermore, I had missed so many classes that I had lost my ear for the language.

After acing the class in the first semester, I did very poorly on the midterm in the second. We were required to listen to a paragraph read by one of the teachers and then answer questions about it. The fact that I could not understand the reading and therefore could not answer the questions contributed to my panic on the grammar section of the test as well. I knew enough to do pretty well, but I choked.

I went to see the teacher. His desk was in the Frieze Building, right next to the desk of Mrs. Rado, my teacher from the fall semester. I explained to him about my attendance at the debate tournaments. He knew that I had done well in the first semester, but he was not too sympathetic about the way that I set my priorities. I did pretty well on the final. I was hoping for a B, but I only got a C.

My other big problem was Chemistry 106. I had taken 103 in the first semester; the continuation course was 105. My faculty adviser insisted that this was beneath me, and he signed me up for 106, the continuation class for 104. I never really got on track in this class. I scored an abysmal 38% on the midterm. Believe it or not, my score was only a little below average.

The worst part was that my labs were on Thursdays. After one of the few recitation session that I had attended, I approached my teacher, Ms. Koljenin, and told her that I had missed six chem labs. She denied that I had done so.

I patiently explained that because I represented the university at intercollegiate debate tournaments, I had indeed missed six labs. She asked me my name and looked it up in her grade book.

“You’ve missed six labs!” she exclaimed.

I asked her if I could make them up over the Easter break. She said that would be impossible. I then asked if the lab would be open. She affirmed that it would. Before she could say anything more, I asked if she would allow me to try to make up as many as I could over the break. She relented.

Most of the experiments involved identifying an unknown sample by performing various tests on it. I got my samples and made every effort to do all the experiments. However, I am really bad at this sort of thing. My samples would not cooperate. For example, if I was supposed to judge the color as yellow or green, it would appear brown. I did all six experiments, but if I got half of them right, I would be surprised.

I studied diligently for the final. I did much better than on the midterm. I got a C in the class. I was just happy that I would not need to take any more science classes.

Fortunately, my fourth class was Greek 101. No one else in the class had ever taken Greek. I had four semesters in high school with a very good teacher. In a class in the third week I was called on to read—in Greek—a few sentences that we had never seen. I did, with good pronunciation and very few pauses. I then translated them without any difficulty. The next day fully half of the students were missing from the class. In any case, I cruised to an A.

In sum, I got an A, a B, and two C’s. Not good, but not a catastrophe. I certainly did not want to explain a D to my parents, who were, after all, footing the bill.

I learned that semester that I needed to be more careful about selecting my classes. If my chem labs had been on Monday or Tuesday, I probably would have gotten a B in chemistry. If I had also insisted on taking 105 instead of 106, I might have gotten an A.

Although I enjoyed Russian a lot, I realized that I needed to avoid languages that required listening skills. They just required more time than I could afford to devote.

I also realized that I needed to avoid taking classes that required papers. I may have dodged a bullet by missing out on Great Books.

My phys ed class, which was held in Waterman Gymnasium, was in badminton. I learned very little from the instructor. He explained the rules and then basically let us play. One guy, who was an accomplished tennis player, was much better than anyone else. My recollection is that I was a distant second, but that might just be arrogance.

We had two tournaments. In the singles tournament I drew the tennis player in the first round, and he crushed me. However, in the doubles my partner and I did not face him until the finals. By picking on his hapless partner we actually gave them a pretty good game, but we lost.

Allen Rumsey House: Charlie Delos² and I shared room 315 for the second semester. We got along well enough that we planned to share a room for sophomore year as well.

By the second semester I knew everyone on the floor pretty well and most people in the house. The people who had pledged fraternities in the first semester were seldom seen in the second. They mostly hung around at their frat house.

At some point I learned how to juggle. So did quite a few other people, including Dave Zuk. I remember him practicing throwing three balls against the eastern wall in 314.

When we could not get four for bridge, we played hearts or spades. Paul Stoner was the worst hearts player ever. He was fascinated with “shooting the moon”—taking tricks containing all thirteen hearts and the queen of spades. Sometimes he would try for it even after one of the other players had taken a heart. This became known as a “Stoner run”.

On Friday nights the television set in the separate TV room was set to NBC to watch the back-to-back acronym shows, “The Man from U.N.C.L.E.” and “T.H.E. Cat”. I wasn’t much invested in the latter, but a bunch of adventurous guys, including Dave Zuk, actively emulated the show’s hero, played by Robert Loggia. They got into various locked university buildings either through the network of tunnels that hey had mapped or by climbing the drain pipes to gain access through unlocked windows on higher floors. Unfortunately, one of these guys was seriously injured when a drain pipe came loose and he fell a few stories to the ground.

Incidentally, on these Friday nights the guys in the game room were usually watching an NHL game. I had no interest whatever in hockey. I was a big fan in general of many sports—I had religiously watched ABC’s Wide World of Sports as a kid. However, I could not follow the puck very well on the black & white television.

This changed after the first time that I saw Bobby Orr on the ice. Over the next three years I watched him as often as I could. If the Bruins were not on, I still had no interest in the sport.

AR held elections for all officers in the spring. Only students who were planning on returning to the dorm the next year were allowed to vote. I decided not to run for secretary. Instead I ran unopposed for the office of the editor of the house’s newsletter, Rumsey Rumors. I think that there had only been one issue all year, but I planned to take the job at least a little more seriously.

I am a little confused about who ran for president. If Ken Nelson was not the president during my freshman year, then he ran unopposed and won. At the time there was a rule that one could be president only for one year.

1. In his basement Lee recently found a typed copy of the constructive speech that he used when debating with me in the spring of 1967. It must have been the very speech that he read in that infamous eighth round at Harvard. It called for the U.S. to abandon the commitment to Taiwan (specifically to Chiang Kai-Shek), to recognize Communist China, and to terminate the trade embargo. I have no recollection of running this case. I must not have done much research.

2. I found this webpage devoted to Charlie Delos.

1970 Part 2: January-March: Debate

Posted on July 10, 2020 by Mike

1970’s debate tournaments. Continue reading →

In my last undergraduate semester at U-M I planned to spend a LOT of time on debate. This was my last chance to qualify for the National Debate Tournament, and I intended to make the most of it. This post has details about a few debates. If you need a primer on intercollegiate debate in 1966-1970, you can find it here.

I must describe our coaching staff in 1969-70. Bill Colburn was the Director of Forensics, but he no longer worked with the debaters or took trips. The Debate Director was Juddi (pronounced like Judy) Tappan, who was finishing her PhD. We had two excellent graduate assistants, Roger Conner, Mark Arnold’s partner in 1968-69 at Oberlin, and Cheryn Heinen, who had been a very good debater at Butler. Roger and Cheryn could probably have been a big help, but they were seldom allowed to go to big tournaments, and neither planned a career as a debate coach. Because the program had very few debaters, we hardly ever had practice rounds, and when we did, Juddi ran them. Cheryn did not work with us much.

Juddi’s major contribution was to insist that I reserve the last thirty seconds of my 2AR to summarize the case. She was big on style and polish. No one else did this in 1970; time was too precious. So, on the affirmative we always had less time to present and answer arguments than our opponents did.

We received valuable help from an extremely unexpected source. In my senior year Jimmie Trent was a professor in the speech department at Wayne State University. He had been a legendary debate coach at (of all places) Emporia, KS, and was universally credited with introducing the Plan-Advantages form of affirmative case, which by my time had almost completely replaced the traditional Need-Plan format.

Jimmie Trent died in 2013. I found no other photos.

Jimmie had a big impact on my thinking about the negative. I was almost always 1N, which meant that I attacked “the case,” the reasons for adopting the plan. One of my principal weapons was “inherency,” which challenged the affirmative team to prove that the “present system” was incapable of producing an equally desirable result. Jimmie argued that this was an unreasonable standard. In his (and eventually my) way of thinking, both teams must defend an approach. The negative’s approach could, of course, merely allow things to continue unchanged, but it could not keep changing its mind about what that entailed, i.e., “we could just …” I did not immediately change my tactics on the negative, but on the affirmative I always tried to pin down the other team.

On the negative Jimmie recommended that we try the Emory switch when we thought that we could get away with it. Previously I was 1N, and I attacked the case. The 2N attacked the plan, arguing that it would not achieve what the affirmative claimed and that it would cause severe problems. With the Emory switch the roles stayed the same, but my partner became 1N, and I became 2N. We attacked the plan first and then the case.

This had many advantages. More of the plan attacks were “canned,” which is to say that they were the same for many different plans and therefore written out in some detail. Having the extra time to prepare for attacking the case was more valuable than for attacking the plan. 2N got more time when he needed it most‐to rebuild his plan attacks after the affirmative had answered them.

Also, of course, it messed up the opponents’ strategy. Each of them was doing an unfamiliar task, and our approach also gave the 1AR only five minutes to rebuild their case and to deal with the defenses of the plan attacks. Finally, it let me give our last speech, and I was a little better at selling.

There is an obvious counter to the switch. The affirmative team can delay presenting its plan until the 2AC. One of Dartmouth’s teams tried this against us. However, the 1AC made no sense without the plan, and two or three minutes were still available when he finished. I had no trouble adapting. I just reverted to my old role as 1N, and the 2A, who had to present the plan in his constructive for the first time ever, had too little time to defend the case well.

A better approach, which we would have used if anyone had tried the switch against us, would be for the 2AC to present additional advantages of the plan after (or before) dealing with the plan attacks. Then, the 2AR can then drop some advantages and defend others.

We only lost one round all year when we switched. We met a pretty good team from Loyola of Baltimore at a tournament in Miami. They did not even try to defend their case in rebuttals. They only argued that our approach was unethical because it emphasized the “spread,” i.e., taking advantage of time limitations to present more arguments than the opponents could possibly answer. We had a very good set of answers to these arguments, but the judge voted against us on the ethics issue. The lesson we learned was to avoid the switch if the judge seemed too conservative. Loyola evidently knew the judge better than we did.

Our first trip in January of 1970 was the “East Coast Swing,” where we used the switch in every round except the one in which Dartmouth delayed presenting the plan. My partner, Bill Davey, and I were allowed to fly to Boston to participate in the tournaments at Boston College and Harvard. At BC we went 5-3 and narrowly missed qualifying for the elimination rounds. Because we did not have a long drive ahead of us, we decided to watch the octafinals. I watched Brown on the affirmative v. Southern Cal. Bill watched a different debate. One of the Brown debaters was visibly startled when he saw me enter the classroom and sit down. He nudged his partner and whispered something to him.

A few minutes later I found out why. Brown’s first affirmative constructive speech was word-for-word the same as ours! Evidently they had tape-recorded one of our rounds at some previous tournament and transcribed it. I have never heard of anyone—in the previous seven and a half years of debating or the subsequent six and a half years that I coached—doing anything like this. In disgust I stopped taking notes a few minutes into the speech.

Brown’s was a bad strategy. USC, which ran a similar case when they were on the affirmative, annihilated them. I was totally embarrassed that a team incompetently running our exact case qualified for the elims at this tournament, and we did not. I told Bill about it, but no one else.

In contrast, Harvard, which was the biggest tournament of the year, with over 100 teams in attendance, was our best tournament ever. In the prelims we were 7-1, losing only to Canisius on our affirmative. By the way we had an astoundingly good record on our negative all year. If we got to face Canisius in the elimination rounds, we would be “locked in” on our negative.

In the octafinals we faced an overmatched team from Boston College. We lost the coin flip (as usual; we only won one coin flip all year), and so we had to debate affirmative. It didn’t matter. All three judges voted for us.

The quarterfinal match against Oberlin was somewhat controversial. The Oberlin pair was Mark Arnold, whom I knew from our days in Kansas City, and freshman Paul Zarefsky, whose brother had been a champion debater at Northwestern, and he now coached there. We were affirmative again. The timekeeper was a debater on Canisius’s second team. We barely knew him, but he was friendly with our opponents.

The first two speeches delivered by Davey and Zarefsky were fairly routine. I was somewhere in the middle of my constructive when someone, I think it was Arnold, yelled out “Time.” The timekeeper was busy taking notes and had neglected to time my speech. He put up the 5 card, followed quickly by the 4. Arnold was sure that he gave me extra time. I thought that he cost me at least a little, and he certainly flustered me a little when 5 turned into 4 so fast.

Anyway, we won three of the five ballots. Oberlin had had a very good first semester, they had done well at BC, and Arnold was considered one of the best debaters in the country. He later coached at Harvard.

Dallas Perkins had a lot more hair and a few less pounds in 1970.

Our opponent in the semifinals was Georgetown, a perennial national powerhouse, represented by Dallas Perkins (who also later coached at Harvard) and Howard Beales. Once again we lost the coin flip. I thought that we debated pretty well, but all five judges, including Laurence Tribe, voted for Georgetown. I will always think that if we had won that coin flip, we would have won the tournament, but who knows?

Still, it was our best tournament ever, and I was the #5 speaker out of the 200+ who attended. Dartmouth also had a tournament, but we did not attend.

When I called Bill Colburn to pick us up at Metro Airport, I told him that we had dropped eight ballots at Harvard. He just said “Really?”, and I replied, “Yes, but the good news is that seven of them were in the quarters and semifinals.”

Hank Stram & the Chiefs matriculated up and down the field.

I remember riding home from a bitterly cold tournament on January 11. I was sitting shotgun and therefore had control of the radio. I found a CBS station, and we listened to the surprisingly calm voices of Bob Reynolds and Tom Hedrick. It was near the end of Super Bowl IV, and the Chiefs seemed to be running out the clock. The Vikings were thirteen-point favoritess, and so we all assumed that the Chiefs had just given up. Au contraire, mon frère! KC had pounded Minnesota 23-7. I knew that my dad and all my friends in KC would be ecstatic.

Juddi made all of the decisions about pairing and scheduling. Two of her decisions puzzled me. The first was to have me debate with sophomore Mike Hartmann at the most important tournament in the district at Northwestern. Mike was a really good debater, and Juddi must have wanted to give him some incentive for the next year. That’s fine, but we had never debated together, and he did not know our case. I would not have minded too much if it was another tournament, but Northwestern was perhaps the most important tournament of the year.

Mike and I won all of our negative rounds and two of the four affirmatives. One of the losses was to a good team. The other was to the worst team in the tournament from Northeastern Illinois University, which I had never heard of. Their record in the tournament was 1-7. The judge, whom I had never before seen, gave both Mike and me higher speaker points than either of the NEIU debaters (although considerably less than we received in any other round). However, he gave NEIU their only victory of the tournament. The text on the ballot was short and bitter: “I just can’t vote for this case.”

Sixteen teams qualified for the elims. We were seventeenth. You know what they say about horseshoes and hand grenades.

I think that 1970 was also the year that Bill and I flew to the tournament at the University of Miami. I remember that it was 70° warmer when we exited the plane than when we boarde. I also remember that right in the center of the campus was a huge swimming pool. The diving team was practicing when we were there. The centerpiece of the Michigan campus is the graduate library.

It was not a great tournament. My recollection is that the elimination rounds started at the quarterfinals, and we missed on speaker points. This was very annoying for a number of reasons. The first was that we lost a negative round on ethics, the only time that we lost when we switched and one of only a handful of negative losses all year.

The other annoying thing occurred against a weak team. The judge was a Miami debater who had graduated the year before. He came up to me before the round and told me that he knew the debate was a mismatch. He demonstrated a little sideways wave with his hand as he said something like “If I do this, cut it short. There’s no reason to prolong the agony.” I ended up cutting at least a minute or two off of my constructive, and I jettisoned the thirty-second summary in my rebuttal. We did win, but he gave us speaker points that were well below our average.

The third annoyance was that we had wasted time and money on this second-rate tournament. I don’t remember any more details about where we went and how we did.

Districts:I need to mention that Juddi and Jimmie tried for a while to keep their torrid relationship secret, but nearly everyone surely knew about it. At some point during the year they got married, and Jimmie tendered his resignation at Wayne State to become chairman of the speech department at Miami of Ohio. Juddi decided that she might be a political liability for us. She decided not to go to districts.

We had to supply two judges. Roger and Cheryn were chosen. This was fine with us, but it did not erase the last few months.

1970 was the first year that I seriously prepared for the district tournament. Roger worked with us quite a bit. We prepared by sprucing up our affirmative case to appeal to a more conservative audience and by working on how our arguments would work without the switch. We were too afraid of political consequences to pull the switch at districts. The only round that we had lost with the switch we had lost on ethics. We could certainly expect arguments like those in every round. Some judges might vote against us on general principles even if the negative did not make the arguments.

Some words of explanation about the District 5 qualifying tournament for the NDT are in order. The district was composed of four states‐Michigan, Ohio, Indiana, and Illinois. The national committee also invited seven additional pairs that did not qualify.

Northwestern was always a national power. Its coach, David Zarefsky, left his top team, Gunderson and Strange, at home because he was confident that they would receive an invitation to the NDT, and he was right. Northwestern sent its second team, Sitzma and Welch, to the district tournament. This was a break for us. We had beaten Sitzma and Welch all three times that we had met them during the year.

The district committee evaluated all the twenty-four teams in attendance. Six were rated A, six B, six C, and six D. Everyone debated two from each group.

Maybe we were not mentally in gear. Roger had tried to teach us to yodel, which he claimed was the best way to warm up. At any rate we lost the first round on our affirmative to a C team from Indiana State. Both Bill and I were just off. I thought that we had won, but I can understand why a judge could vote against us.

Then we met two pretty good teams—Hample and Sproule from Ohio State on our affirmative and Sitzma and Welch on our negative. We mopped the floor with both of them, and they knew it. It turned out that they were our two A teams. This kind of surprised me.

The next three rounds seemed uneventful. The seventh round was on Saturday evening. We faced an obnoxious guy named Greg Rigo from Ohio University on our negative. I don’t remember his partner’s name. They were a mediocre team with a very standard case. We debated fairly well and pretty much pounded them.

Two of the judges had familiar faces. The third one, who voted against us, was someone whom I had never seen. He came from one of the very weak schools. This sometimes happens, as it did to Mike and me at Northwestern.

One of the familiar judges voted for us and wrote that it was not close. The other judge, George Ziegelmueller, was the long-time Director of Forensics at Wayne State in Detroit. In my four years at U-M he had NEVER voted for any of our teams. His ballot in this debate was incomprehensible.

When I started debating in 1966, Wayne State was a highly ranked national power. The team of Kathy McDonald and Don Ritzenheim had narrowly lost in the final round of the NDT two years in a row. By 1970 they were just another mid-level team. I am not sure what happened to them, but it must have frustrated George.

Needless to say the Jimmie-Juddi business probably did not sit well with George. A faculty member at his school, who had probably never helped coach any of his debaters, was giving valuable tactical advice to a rival school! This just was not done.

I worked for George for three and a half years in the late seventies. I never brought this up, and neither did he. In those years I confirmed my impression that George was not considered a good judge. His note-taking was weak, and he tended to get fixated on one aspect of the debate, even if the debaters did not emphasize it.

The eighth and final round was on Sunday morning. Unbeknownst to us Juddi had shown up for the coaches’ cocktail party on Saturday night. I am sure that she pumped everyone with whom she was on speaking terms for information. Outside the room of our last debate she showed up with a huge grin on her face. She told us that we were doing very well, but we shouldn’t be too overconfident We had also heard a lot of buzz in the hallways that we had blasted everyone on our schedule.

At any rate in the last round we were on the affirmative against a so-so team from Illinois State. Both Bill and I were superb. We obliterated them. I had absolutely no doubt that we picked up all three ballots. In fact, one of the judges, David Angell from Albion College awarded me a perfect score of 30 and wrote on the ballot that it was the best performance that he had ever seen.

All the debaters, coaches, and hangers-on assembled for the announcement of the five qualifying pairs. Juddi was all excited when we told her that the last debate was by far our best.

Next came the assembly. Five teams would qualify for NDT. It took them at least half an hour to process the ballots. The district chairman finally came out and began, “There was one team that was 6-2 but …”

I swear the following is true: I screamed out “Oh no!” and buried my head in my arms on the desk in front of me. Everyone looked at me as he continued, “unfortunately had too few ballots to qualify. So, let’s have a hand for the University of Michigan, 6-2 with fourteen ballots.”

We lost ten ballots, five of them on the negative. We had only lost one negative ballot in the second semester, and that was on ethics. We lost that first affirmative debate 3-0. OK, I can live with that. We beat both of our A teams and our B teams. We kept both Ohio State and Northwestern from qualifying. The critical round, though, was clearly the seventh. There was no way that we lost that debate. However, we also somehow lost three other ballots on our negative. This just never happened that year.

In retrospect I think that we should have somehow made it clear to the other schools that we would definitely not be using the Emory switch at districts. The other 23 teams that were going to districts probably wasted many hours trying to figure out how to adapt to our tactic. This could have irritated a lot of people.

We submitted an application for a post-bid, but I knew we wouldn’t get it. The district recommended the two Northwestern teams and Ohio State in a tie for first. They recommended us, but as their fourth choice. They thought we were only the ninth best team in the district! NDT only gave seven post-district bids altogether. The other three from our district all got bids. Once again we got the shaft.

Our performance at Harvard earned us an invitation to the Tournament of Champions. Juddi encouraged us to go, but I could see no point to it.

Thus ended my debate career. Was I bitter? Yes. I only had one goal, and I would never get another chance to achieve it.

Bill Davey made it to the quarterfinals of NDT in 1971. He is a professor at the University of Illinois. His very impressive biography page is here.

In 1972 Mike Hartmann also made it to the quarterfinals of NDT. He is a lawyer. His webpage at the firm of Miller Canfield is here.

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1970 Part 2: January-March: Debate