1997-1980 Part 4: Academics at Wayne State

Posted on March 17, 2021 by Mike

More of the same and a tasty side dish. Continue reading →

I arrived at Wayne State with a masters degree in speech communication from Michigan. If I wanted to get paid to coach debate, I had to be a graduate student. Since I already had a masters, that meant that I needed to commit to work towards a PhD.

PhD candidates were required to take a given number of additional graduate-level classes. A few had to be outside of the department. Repeating classes in the same basic subject taken at other institutions was perfectly acceptable.

A dissertation was also required. The basic requirement was that it include original research in an important topic under the aegis of speech communication. My unhappy experience in that endeavor is described here.

PhD candidates at Wayne State were required to make three oral presentations. The audience for all three was the student’s committee of “advisers”, which consisted of three professors from the speech department and one from another department. The advisers could ask questions, make statements, and suggest improvements. At the end each presentation met and told the candidate whether he passed or failed.

The required presentations were these:

The oral examination. The outside adviser was not included in this exercise. Each adviser could ask any number of questions about any subject.
The defense of the prospectus for the dissertation. The prospectus is a printed document that outlines the purpose of the study, the plans for research, and the method of evaluation.
Defense of the dissertation.

In general, Michigan is a much more demanding school than Wayne State. These figures are from 2019:

	Acceptance	Graduation
Michigan	23%	91%
Wayne State	73%	38%

This does not mean that every department at U-M was better. I was not favorably impressed by the faculty in my area of the speech department at Michigan. My favorite teacher at U-M (Dr. Cartwright) was in the psychology department. The one impressive person at U-M’s speech department (Bob Norton) did not take teaching speech seriously. I would say that the speech professors at Wayne State were slightly better.

The graduate students in speech communications at both schools impressed me equally little. Practically none of them would have been able to handle a rigorous curriculum, as in a math, science, or language department. I studied the bare minimum amount to get by, and I had no difficulties with any of the classes.

I think that I took at least one class from every professor who resided on the fifth floor except George Ziegelmueller¹, who had been in the department for ages. I don’t remember George teaching any graduate-level classes while I was at Wayne State. If he did, it was probably in directing forensics.

Here are my impressions of the other teachers. They are listed in alphabetical order, with the ones whose names escape me at the bottom.

I think that Steve Alderton_², whose first year was 1977-78, taught a class in group communication. I don’t remember much about it. Steve got his PhD at Indiana, which had a very good reputation in speech circles.

Both George and Steve were on my dissertation committee. That experience is described here.

A museum in Esperance, Australia has some of Skylab’s actual debris on display.

I remember taking a class from Jim Measell³, but I don’t remember what the subject was. Sheri Brimm was in the class with me. That experience is described here.

In July of 1979 the Skylab satellite fell into earth’s atmosphere and broke into a lot of debris. Jim removed a ceiling tile from over his desk and scattered some fairly realistic-looking electronic parts around his office in hopes of persuading people that pieces of the satellite had crashed through the roof of Manoogian.

Barb O’Keefe³, earned her PhD at the University of Illinois, a gathering point of disciples of George Kelly’s Personal Construct Theory. I think that her husband was also a devotee. She taught a class in communication theory, in which she described the “evolution” of communication theory. The second-to-last step was systems theory, which she dismissed because a system is never truly closed. Of course, that is true. The researcher tries to exclude externalities when possible and account for them when it isn’t. However, the externalities exist regardless of which construct is used to analyze the transactions.

The culmination, according to Barb, was PCT, which postulates that people have dichotomous (i.e., two dimensional) constructs that they use to evaluate everything. Examples are light-heavy and tall-short. I asked her about colors, and she replied with something like, “Oh, there’s an answer to that.” She never looked it up or told me where I could find it. She was quite intelligent and an effective teacher, but she was also a “True Believer”, and that scared me.

She also really upset me when she let slip that she thought that debate training “turned students into monsters.” I kept my distance from her.

This picture is from before the days when I knew Ray Ross.

I remember taking one seminar from Ray Ross⁵, the author of the Speech 100 textbook. It might have been about persuasion. All I remember is that it was the least demanding of all of the courses that I took, and everything that he taught was at least twenty years old.

Lie Ray, Gary Shulman received his PhD from Purdue. I took two of his classes. The first was statistics, which covered much of the same material as the class that Bob Norton taught at Michigan. The number of students enrolled was more than for Bob’s class. I remember that everyone was assigned a topic to explain to the class. Most of these topics were very straightforward, but the one that I was assigned was a complicated statistical tool that I had never heard of. I spent a lot of time working on my lecture, but it was just impossible (IMAO) to present it in a fashion that was comprehensible for speech students within the time limit, which I think was fifteen minutes. I got a bad grade on this exercise. This was the only time in my life that I complained about a grade. It didn’t matter; I aced the tests.

Gary’s other class, which, as I recall, was taught at night, was industrial communications. Vince Follert and Pam Benoit were also in this class. We had several exercises to perform as teams of three or four. The catchphrase was “Learn by doing”. The first project challenged each team to construct a castle using some tools that each group was provided—a stapler, some tape, string, some crayons, and construction paper. The castles were then judged on sturdiness, height, and esthetics.

Pam, whom I knew to be a good artist, was in our group. I gave all of the construction paper and crayons to her and told her to decorate them so that we did not finish last in esthetics. The rest of us then affixed one end of the string to one of the ceiling panels next to a wall. We then stapled the decorated paper to the string and taped the whole contraption to the wall. It looked nothing like a castle, but it was by far the tallest, easily the sturdiest, and as esthetically pleasing as any. De gustibus non est disputandum. We won the competition, but Vince claimed that we cheated.

In the second, much longer exercise, we had different roles in a factory that made some doodads from tinker toys. I was the foreman in the first segment. Gary never prohibited us from rearranging the furniture, and so I ordered that the desks of the people who were charged with locating the pieces moved so that they were next to those of the people who assembled them. This made everything very efficient and made the rest of the exercise, which culminated (on Gary’s order) in a strike of employees who were as jolly as Santa’s elves, totally inappropriate.

I had heard through the grapevine that getting a consulting gig with one of the auto companies was the Holy Grail for the faculty members in the speech and psychology department. I never found how many, if any, completed the sacred quest.

I am not sure that I ever saw this face in my three years at WSU.

I am pretty sure that I never met Geneva Smitherman⁷. I may not have even seen her. I have no recollection of where her office was. She definitely taught classes while I was at Wayne State. However, I never took any, and nobody that I knew well did either.

A surprisingly large number of graduate students in Wayne State’s speech department held outside jobs. A fairly large portion of this group took all of Prof. Smitherman’s classes and very few others. One of these students took the class that Ray Ross taught that I was in. She confided that she had many friends who would not take classes from any of the other professors. It was actually feasible to get a masters degree at Wayne State using this approach. If the student was willing to write a thesis (supervised by Prof. Smitherman), it could be accomplished in only a few years.

The effect that Prof. Smitherman and her ideas had on the department as a whole is discussed here. Jimmie Trent was the chairman of Wayne State’s speech department up until 1972 or 1973. I don’t know when Prof. Smitherman was hired, but it is fun to speculate that Jimmie hired her as a parting gift to the department. She is eight years older than I am. The timing could be right.

There was also a professor in the department who taught classes in rhetoric and oratorical analysis. I am not certain whether I took any of them or not. I definitely remember that he brought his adolescent son to our house on Chelsea one evening to witness one of our D&D adventures. We would have let them join the party of adventurers—I had a computer program that could generate a character in seconds and generate a nice printout with all of the characteristics. They declined the invitation.

I took one graduate-level class in psychology. I don’t remember the professor’s name, but he was both entertaining and handsome. I was more interested in the first characteristic than the second, but I did notice that about 80 percent of the students were female. I wanted to ask this professor to be the “outside” member of my PhD committee, but he was on sabbatical.

I found the psych students in this class to be no more capable than the graduate students in the speech department. I received an A with very little effort.

In one class session the psych professor discussed oral exams. He said that it was very difficult for the faculty members to assess the performance of the candidates. In general, they were mostly surprisingly awful. He said that some professors used a 10 percent standard. That is, if 10 percent of the answers seemed acceptable, that was good enough.

He also mentioned an exception. He told us about one fellow who was not considered a very good student. However, his performance in the oral exam was the best that any of the professors had ever witnessed. It turned out that he worked as a ~~disk jockey~~ (whoops; the meaning of that term has changed in the intervening years) “presenter” at the college’s radio stationed, and he was used to ad-libbing and responding to unexpected questions.

Well, if a little radio time had that effect, I figured that all my years of debate experience would certainly serve me even better. I did not waste even one hour cramming for my orals, and I passed with flying colors.

I took one other class; I cannot even remember the exact nature of the subject matter. It might have concerned statistics for the social sciences or the the use of computers in social science research. The instructor was weak. I remember that on one of his multiple-choice tests he asked for the definition of an algorithm. When he graded the test he marked the right answer (a set of rules to be followed in calculations or problem-solving) wrong and refused to admit that it was a mistake. I might have dropped the class or just stopped attending.

One desk that should have been empty had my marvy body in it. So what?

You may be wondering how a student could have “just stopped attending”. Well, the university had a requirement that the prospectus be presented and defended before completing the coursework. I don’t remember the details. I was not ready to write my prospectus on time, and, besides, I was busy coaching debate. So, for a semester or two I attended classes for which I had not registered. This was not the smartest scheme that I had ever devised, but, since I did not pay tuition either way, I could not see that it would harm anyone.

I do not understand why none of my instructors challenged my presence. I am quite certain that the university provided every instructor with a roster of all enrolled students.

Occasionally someone who was not on the roster attended one of the classes that I taught. I took attendance every day and, in a friendly way, challenged all the interlopers. Occasionally they were just guests of one of the enrolled students⁸. None of the people whom I challenged ever came to a second class.

My failure to enroll went undetected for quite a while. When someone in the administration finally noticed I was ordered to report to the dean’s office. He grilled me about why I did this. I told him frankly that I had no excuse, but I wanted to do whatever was necessary to get back in good standing. He grilled me about this over the course of a handful of interrogations. He apparently thought that my actions were part of a nefarious scheme.

I discovered during these exchanges that the school was reimbursed by the state based on enrollment numbers. So, what I did cost Wayne State some money. Of course, it also saved the state of Michigan the same amount of money.

I also had to go to track down the instructors and ask them to submit grades for me. Fortunately they were all still on campus. None of them gave me the slightest bit of grief.

Of course, if I had stopped attending a class because I could no longer tolerate it, I just never asked for a grade. I had plenty of credits without those classes.

I spent a lot more time researching than I did studying for these classes, which for the most part, I considered useless. None of my research concerned anything that I had studied in classes at Wayne State. It was concentrated in two areas: 1) the social science research that used the ten standard questions in the “shift to risk” research, and 2) the medical research concerning hemispheric specialization. The former was compiled in anticipation of doing a dissertation on some aspect of the area. The latter was because I was intellectually curious about the subject. In the late seventies almost no one outside of the medical community was aware of all the recent breakthroughs in understanding the function of the brain.

There was no Internet; there were only libraries. I had boxes full of 3″x5″ file cards on both subjects. I used the “shift to risk” file to prepare my prospectus. I used the hemispheric specialization data for a paper that I submitted in 1980 to the Journal of the American Forensic Association⁹. I wrote it in response to a two-part article in the journal by Charles Arthur Willard¹⁰ (whom I knew as the debate coach at Dartmouth College) entitled “The Epistemic Functions of Argument: Reasoning and Decision-Making From A Constructivist/Interactionist Point of View”.

I knew that Dr. Willard, like Barb O’Keefe, received his masters and PhD degrees from Illinois in the speech department that promulgated Personal Construct Theory. My paper presented a short review of the current state of the neurological evidence about the way that the human brain makes decisions. It argued that some of the fundamental elements of PCT were inherently inconsistent with the fundamental postulates of PCT.

Before sending my paper to the same journal I let George read it. He agreed with me that people in communications theory were not conversant with research by neuroscientists. He asked me if I was sure about “all of this”. I assured him that when something was questionable I had been careful to include disclaimers.

My paper was quickly accepted for publication, but the principal reviewer wanted me to make a few minor changes. By then, however, I had decided to change careers. I let it drop.

1. George died in 2019. A press release from Wayne State can be read here.

2. While writing this I discovered that only a few years after I departed in 1980 Steve Alderton changed careers entirely. He got a law degree and then became (for almost three decades) an official of the federal government, a world traveler, and an artist! His obituary is here.

3. Jim Measell left academia in 1997 to specialize in public relations. His experiences are described here.

4. Barb O’Keefe Northwestern https://dailynorthwestern.com/2019/08/14/campus/school-of-communication-dean-barbara-okeefe-to-step-down-in-2020/

5. Ray Ross died at the age of ninety in 2015. He was at the Battle of the Bulge! His obituary is here.

6. Gary is a professor of strategic communication at Miami University in Oxford, OH. Information about him can be found here. I wonder if Jimmie Trent hired him.

7. It appears that Geneva Smitherman is now at Michigan State. Here is her Wikipedia page.

8. The most memorable of these occasions was when one of the students brought her identical twin sister. This was the same student who started one of her speeches with, “I want to take this occasion to introduce all of you to my best friend, Jesus.”

9. The journal’s title was later expanded to Argument and Advocacy: the Journal of the American Forensic Association.

10. Charlie Willard has a Wikipedia page.

1977-1980 Part 3B: Debate at Wayne State: The Coaches

Posted on March 15, 2021 by Mike

My recollections of the other coaches. Continue reading →

Any treatment of any aspect of debate at Wayne State University in the second half of the twentieth century must begin with George Ziegelmueller¹. During the course of my seven years of debate I had formed two opinions of him: 1) He was a mediocre debate coach; 2) He was a horrible judge. I certainly underrated him as a coach (at least on the affirmative), but not as a judge. Of course, I was (and still am) prejudiced. After my last tournament (districts in 1970, which is described here) I hated him as much as I have ever hated anyone in my life.

Nevertheless, I can usually compartmentalize. George and I had a good working relationship from the start. I did whatever he told me to do. I had great respect for his ability to deal with the bureaucracy, and I have no doubt whatever that the welfare and success of his debaters meant the world to him.

My favorite George story took place in the Detroit Metro Airport in 1980. Six of us were preparing to attend the National Debate Tournament at the University of Arizona. George and I were the coaches. The debaters were senior Scott Harris, juniors Kevin Buchanan and Mike Craig, and Dave Debold, who was only a sophomore.

We were all very excited. For three of the four guys it was the very first time that they had flown to a tournament. For me it was also very special. I had never been to the state of Arizona. Also, I knew that this might well be my last debate tournament ever.

George handed out the tickets to each of us. He informed us of the gate from which the plane would depart. Before we went through security, however, Dave noticed something amiss. “These tickets are for Phoenix,” he said. “Isn’t the University of Arizona in Tucson?”

Our tickets were indeed non-stop tickets to Phoenix on Frontier Airlines. Incredibly, George was able to exchange the tickets for ones to and from Tucson. We only had to wait in the terminal for an hour or so, and all of our luggage was also transferred to our new flight.

George did not really believe in tipping. Having been to Europe several times, I agree with him in principle. However, this is not Europe; most American restaurants paid (and still pay) their employees scandalously low wages.

The way George expressed his philosophy about tipping was this: “I pay for the meal out of the back-pocket of my pants; the tip comes from the front pocket.” That is, he paid for the bill with folding money and the tip with change.

I only accompanied George on a few trips. When I did, I would covertly pass the hat among the debaters. I would add my donation and give the total collection to one of the debaters. On our way to the car he/she would remember something left behind in the restaurant, return to the table, and supplement the tip with what we had collected.

The tournament in Denver was held at Metropolitan State College, now known as Metropolitan State University. It was an excellent venue.

I worked very hard during my first year at Wayne. I went to whatever tournaments George selected for me, and I did not step on anyone’s toes. Even before districts I asked George if I could go to the National Debate Tournament in Denver in the spring. George was taken aback by this request.

Jack Kay, after all, was his right-hand man. George said that I could accompany the team to districts, but he and Jack would judge. I replied that the team (Debbie McCully and Scott Harris) did not need me at districts. However, they had very little experience on the national circuit, and I had a lot. I knew many of the debaters on the national scene and almost all of the coaches. I even volunteered to pay my own way to Denver if and when our team qualified. George eventually agreed, and he found the money.

This helped diminish, but not erase, the memory of the round against Ohio U. at districts in 1970.

Pam and Billy Benoit² (beh NOYT) were my office-mates in Manoogian Hall. They had both attended Ball State University in Muncie, IN, and Central Michigan in Mount Pleasant. In 1979 Billy presented a paper on philosophy at a conference in Amsterdam. Pam went with him. I don’t remember how they got away with this. They both taught several classes.

Sue Comparetto somehow persuaded them to allow her to join them on this trip. She enjoyed the city immensely, and has wanted to return³ for the last forty-two years.

The Benoits once invited Sue and me over for supper in their apartment, which was near the campus. The repast itself was a little skimpy by my standards until they pulled out their fondue pot and the dipping snacks.

Billy and Pam were among the first players of Dungeons and Dragons (D&D) after I had purchased the original boxed set on August 17, 1978, as a present for myself on my thirtieth birthday. In the first few adventures we took turns as Dungeon Master. These were “Monte Haul” dungeons. The player characters soon reached level 5 or 6.Outlandishly rich orcs were slain by the thousand.

When the Player’s Handbook appeared a year or so later, I constructed a dungeon with a style that was more verismo. Deep in that dungeon was the lair of the fiercest monster they had yet to encounter, Frix the White Dragon. Non-player characters had warned everyone that he was very powerful because of his super-cold breath. One day Pam, Billy, and Vince Follert decided to go after him.

After a few minor skirmishes they found Frix’s cave, but, alas, Frix struck first and turned the entire party all to icicles. All three players were very angry at me for not providing them with a way to resurrect their highly prized characters.

The denouement of this story is in Vince’s section of this blog.

In 2021 I unearthed my slightly warped copy the graduate student’s bible.

By the time that Billy and Pam were ready to submit their dissertations in the spring of 1980 Sue and I had an IBM 5120 computer in our house. Sue used it for her fledgling programming business. I also tinkered with it. I had written a word processing program that printed documents in the format approved by the American Psychological Association. The only printer that it could use was a dot-matrix, but that was not yet considered gauche. I called my program “Amanuensis”.

The 5120 supported this printer and no other.

The university allowed graduate students a fixed number of minutes of computer time per semester. Pam and Billy traded me their minutes for one or two semesters in exchange for my printing of their dissertations using Amanuensis. Needless to say, I had to enter the text and footnotes through the keyboard. Producing a long paper with footnotes perfectly on a manual typewriter was a daunting task.

I ran into a few problems because, of course, no one checked my work. They became very jittery as the deadline day approached, but I was able to hand the final copies over to them with a few hours to spare.

In the winter of 1978-1979 Pam and Billy invited Sue, me, Vince, and, I think, John Pfeiffer to a weekend at a family cabin near Pokagon (poh-KAY-gun) State Park⁴. My recollection is that we drove there on Friday evening and returned on Sunday afternoon. Two thing stand out in my mind from this event. The first was mundane. Evidently there was a shortage of water in the plumbing system. The bathroom bore a sign that read: “If it’s yellow, let it mellow; if it’s brown, flush it down.” Five of us shared that toilet.

The other memory of that trip is epic. The toboggan run in the park is long and fast. The channels for the toboggans were not particularly narrow, but Billy was a big guy, and, to put it in nautical terms, he was broad in the beam. I think that we only participated in one run. We split into two groups of three. I went with Vince and John. Sue was in the Benoit’s group. The safety precautions for the ride were minimal. A guy at the top yelled “Keep your legs in!” before he gave the toboggan a shove.

Our toboggan ride was somewhat thrilling because the pace was fast, and the riders had absolutely no control. I was in front. I just made myself as small as I could. The guy behind me had his legs on both sides of me. The guy behind him likewise put a leglock on the middle man. By the time that we reached the bottom, which was a quarter mile from the launching tower, one of Vince’s legs had rubbed against the side of the track a few times. He was sore but not injured. John and I were unscathed.

The three in the other toboggan did not fare as well. All three suffered scrapes. Billy was by far the worst. He stuck out on both sides of the toboggan and suffered rather ugly burns. We did not take him to the hospital, but he could hardly walk for a day or two, and he was sore for weeks.

Sheri Brimm joined the program in the fall semester of 1978. She had just graduated from Wright State University in Dayton, OH. She knew very little about debate. If Wright State had a debate team, I never heard of it, and they were in our district.

Sheri lived in an apartment near campus with her husband David. I seem to remember that he was going to Law School at Wayne State.

I was in one class with Sheri. I think that it was with the rhetoric professor, Dr. Jim Measell. For one of our assigned papers he provided very explicit instructions for what he wanted. I knew this guy and warned Sheri that she should do it exactly the way that he prescribed. She said that she thought that what he really was looking for was creativity. She may have been kidding, but she got a bad grade on the paper.

I also took one trip with Sheri. We were in charge of a van full of debaters headed for a nearby tournament. Akron University comes to mind, but I may be wrong. I let her drive because I wanted to work with some of the debaters. While we were still in Detroit it began to snow or sleet, and there was a little ice on the road. Basically, it was a normal winter day in Michigan in the seventies. The van started to skid. I yelled to her from the back of the van, “Slow down.”

“The car is hydroplaning,” she explained, but she did not drive noticeably slower.

“Hydroplaning is on water. This is ice. SLOW DOWN!” I countered.

I did not have many dealings with Sheri even though she returned for 1979-80. George may have let her work with some of the novice debaters, and she kept a chair warm during practice rounds.

Gerry Cox⁵ was my age. George was eighteen years older than I was. Everyone else in the FU was younger than I. Gerry joined the staff in 1979 after finally earning his bachelor’s degree the previous spring. I coached Gerry in my first two years. We became good friends, even though we had almost nothing in common. I also kept in touch with Gerry after I left Wayne St. He came to visit Sue and me twice while we lived in Rockville, CT. More memories of him can be read here.

I have three vivid recollections of Gerry from that last year. For years Gerry had been associated with the department off and on. I remember well the way that he treated the departmental secretary, whose name was, I think, Janet. On one occasion Gerry approached her desk and greeted her with the following: “Why don’t we rent a room at a hotel, rub Crisco all over both of our bodies, and see what happens?”

This approach was quite a bit different from my short conversations with her.

The second strong memory is of the only time that I ever saw Gerry nervous. He was for some reason chosen to give a speech on traffic safety to members of the Detroit Police Department. It may have been a contest. I drove him there for moral support.

Gerry had seen these up close a few times.

Gerry was reluctant even to enter the room. Apparently he feared that one of Detroit’s finest would recognize him from years gone for encounters in markedly less formal encounters, probably bars. At last we entered and took a seat. Gerry kept his eyes lowered while we were so seated.

Eventually Gerry gave his speech, which argued that requiring helmets for riders of motorcycles was a bad idea. It was a terrible speech. He claimed that requiring helmets would not reduce injuries much and that in some cases it would be counterproductive. I was shocked that a former Wayne State debater would make such a claim without a whiff of evidence.

Helmets are obviously counterproductive.

The close of his speech was greeted with tepid applause. As he approached me, he said softly, “Let’s get out of here.”

In the car I asked him why he made those claims without any evidence. He was stunned. He asked me, “Are you saying that I forgot to read the evidence?”

When I confirmed it he laughed and laughed and buried his head in his hands.

Steve D’Agostino coached some of the Individual Events (IE) people in 1977-78. I hardly knew him. I think that he had academic problems and left after one year.

Vince Follert⁶ was a pretty good debater at Loyola in Chicago, a Jesuit university. I judged him a few times before he graduated in 1977. His partner was weak, and the coaching at Loyola was not great. Even so, they did pretty well. I was favorably impressed.

Vince had a studio apartment near the campus. I am not sure that I ever entered it. He came to supper at our house on Chelsea a few times. We became pretty close friends. We usually ate lunch together at one of a few favorite restaurants on Woodward. Woodward Coney Island is still there in 2021! Their loose hamburger sandwiches were very tasty. I don’t remember the name of the other restaurant. Vince was enchanted by one of the waitresses who never wore a bra.

Vince stayed at Wayne for two years. I taught his classes whenever he was at a tournament, and he returned the favor when I was out of town. In the fall of 1978 he made the mistake of asking me to take his very first class. Here is how I began: “My name is Mike Wavada. Don’t write it down; I am not your teacher. Your real teacher is named Vince Follert. He is away at a debate tournament today. You won’t like him. He is fat, he smokes like a chimney, and he talks too fast.”

I did not mention it, but he also went through several six packs of Diet Pepsi every day.

Vince was as fond as I was of Dungeons and Dragons. He played every chance that he got. He was even more angry than the Benoits were at the instantaneous demise of his beloved characters when they stormed into Frix’s lair. I think that Vince’s main character was named Guelph the Elf.

Several months later he confronted me about the incident. “Resist Cold is a first level clerical spell, isn’t it? We were just idiots. We deserved to die.” He was right. They probably could have absconded with Frix’s fabulous treasure horde if they had bothered to prepare for cold weather with spells that any rookie cleric would know.

Vince and I attended a convention of the Central States Speech Association⁷ in the spring of 1979. We both presented papers there.

I don’t remember why we did not take Greenie. Instead, we rented a car from Budget. We got a good deal. There was a modest daily charge, but there was no mileage limit. My recollection is that we drove to St. Louis, went to the convention, and then drove back within twenty-four hours. That seems almost incredible. Maybe the trip took two days. In any case the man at Budget was astounded when he looked at the odometer.

I did not witness Vince’s presentation. His panel occurred at the same time as mine. Walter Ulrich, a very fine coach at the University of Houston, presented the first paper in our room. He argued that the value of the proposition should always be from the perspective of the collective interest of the people of the United States. There was time for questions after the evaluations. I asked Walter what he thought of propositions that were stated at a different level. For example, one of them that I debated in high school said that nuclear weapons should be controlled by an unspecified international organization. He opined that those resolutions were illegitimate.

The approach I called unfair is based on Archbishop Whately’s view of presumption.

My paper, which was the last one in our session, was on causality. I posited was not a useful construct in argumentation. Debates should focus on necessary conditions and sufficient conditions. I also argued that the negative teams had the responsibility to defend something in every debate. It was perfectly OK to defend what currently existed or what the government might do, but arguing that a case should be rejected because Congress could just pass a law to solve the problem or provide the benefit was an unfair reliance on the concept of presumption.

The two reviewers hated my paper. Dave Ling, the coach from Central Michigan (and a Wayne State alum), was at least nice about it. The other reviewer was from Washington University of St. Louis, a guy who was renowned as the worst judge on the circuit. He made fun of me. The time allotted was exhausted by the time that they finished. I did not get a chance to rebut what they said.

Most top coaches would have agreed with every word that I said, but they did not often attend conventions like this one.

One last memory of Vince popped into my head. One day in 1979 he came into Manoogian with a hickey on his neck. He made no attempt to hide it, but he would not talk about it.

Vince received his masters degree in the spring of 1979. He coached debate for Dale Hample at Western Illinois in 1979-1980.

Ken Haught might have been on the staff in my last year, 1979-1980. I remember him, but only vaguely

Jack Kay was George’s right-hand man when I arrived. He was still a graduate student, but he had an office of his own. I came to learn that Jack had been a member of the Students for a Democratic Society (SDS) in his younger years. Reportedly he had actually met Tom Hayden and Jane Fonda.

Jack married Ruth Colwander, who was just a sophomore in my first year at Wayne State. Jack had been the coach of Ruth and the other novices in the previous year. They had done very well.

I don’t know why, but I interacted very little with Jack. I remember only two fairly innocuous incidents. The first occurred at a staff meeting. George told us that some financial assistance had become available for one debater. I don’t remember the amount. George asked for suggestions as to who should get it. I immediately recommended that Ruth, who was the only serious debater who had a job, should be considered. Jack, who was involved with but not married to Ruth, was astonished at my suggestion. I guess that he thought of me as a foe. If so, it was not mutual.

The second event occurred at the National Debate Tournament in 1978 in Denver. Wayne State sent one team (Debbie McCully and Scott Harris) and three coaches to this tournament.

Wayne State’s team met (I think) one of the teams from Redlands in the eighth round. The whole tournament knew that both teams from Redlands were running a case that had something to do with infanticide. I had never heard it, and I no idea of the substance of Redlands’ plan.

Jack ran into the library. I don’t know if he found anything. I kept out of his way.

Jack had, however, heard the case in a previous round. When he saw that our team was facing Redlands, he rushed to the library to try to photocopy something. He then spent the little remaining time lecturing Debbie and Scott on how to attack the cse.

I wished that he had shared his ideas with us earlier—there were fairly long breaks for power-matching after every round. I said absolutely nothing at the time; he might have had an inspired argument.

Scott and Debbie lost 3-0. If Jack had not taken over, I would have advised them to relax and avoid the temptation to twist any of their prepared arguments to fit this case. Instead, they should just try to challenge everything, make reasonable claims of their own, and watch for mistakes. They should then concentrate on finding one decisive argument that they could win and sell it dramatically in the last rebuttal.

Of course, they still probably would have lost to a team with more high-level experience.

Jack was a big guy. He was also, unless I am mistaken, the only Jewish member of the staff. He was, I guess because of his size, recruited to play Santa Claus at the FU Christmas party. However, his “ho-ho-ho” was worse than pathetic. So, I made the big laugh from off-stage while he was entering.

Ron Lee joined the staff in 1979-80 wife his wife Karen. She was my age and debated at either Southern Illinois or Illinois State. She might have done something with the team at Wayne, too.

Ron debated at Wayne State, at times with Jack Kay. The only thing that I remember about his coaching technique was that he insisted that the team eat at restaurants that had waiters and/or waitresses. He hated going to counters for his food.

John Pfeiffer came from Florida He was at Wayne State for my first two years. In the second year he was the IE director.

John had an interesting background. He had worked at Disneyland as a strolling bear character. He said that it was the worst job in the world. He had also appeared as a character on roller skates in Shakespeare’s The Two Gentlemen of Verona.

Donaldson’s Covenant books were my favorites.

Tuna Snider¹⁰ came to Wayne State in 1979-80, my last year, and was installed in Jack’s old office. I had known him a little when he was the coach at Boston College. I never heard anyone call him anything but Tuna.

I don’t think that I went to any tournaments with Tuna. In fact, the only interaction with him that I remembered was when he noticed that I was often sitting around the debate lounge reading a paperback book. One day he asked what kind of fiction I liked, and I answered, “Swords and sorcery”. He made a positive noise and returned to his office. In truth I read most of these fantasy books just to get ideas for D&D dungeons.

For some reason Tuna did not attend the NDT with us in Arizona in 1980, and my memories of his involvement with the program seemed to be minimal. Perhaps he had a falling out with George.

1. George died in 2019. A press release from the university can be read here.

2. In 2021 the Benoits are on the faculty of the communications department of the University of Alabama at Birmingham. Billy’s Wikipedia page is here. His boss’s career is described on this webpage. Click on her photo or the blue text.

3. Sue and I have a river cruise scheduled for October of 2021. It departs from Amsterdam, and we have also scheduled one extra day there.

4. The toboggan run at Pokagon State Park remained open through the pandemic winter of 2020-2021. Its website is here.

5. Gerry died in an automobile accident in, I think, the eighties. At the time he owned a company that produced machined parts for auto dealers. It was located in his family’s home town in Kentucky.

6. Vince died of colon cancer in the early eighties.

7. In the twenty-first century it is called the Central States Communications Association.

8. In 2021 Ken is the Dean of Arts and Sciences at Dickinson State University in North Dakota.

9. Jack died in 2015. A tribute to him can be read here.

10. Tuna Snider got his PhD from Kansas, not Wayne State. He died in 2015 after spending more than thirty years at the University of Vermont. His Wikipedia page is here.

1977-1980 Part 3D: Debate at Wayne State: Social Life

Posted on March 14, 2021 by Mike

Gatherings in and around the Forensics Union. Continue reading →

The social life at Wayne State was far more active than at U-M. In point of fact there was no social life at U-M to speak of. At Wayne there were highly organized activities, spontaneous activities, and pretty much every level in-between.

A Tamarack cabin in 2021. I remember something a little more rustic.

The outing to Camp Tamarack, a resort/campground in Ortonville, MI, had been an annual event at Wayne State every year through 1977. Occasionally it was held somewhere else, but even those weekends included many of the same activities.

We drove up in a few vehicles on a Friday in October, had some social activities in the evening, slept overnight, worked on research for most of the day on Saturday, and returned to Detroit on Saturday evening. When the tradition started, the debaters had stayed two nights.

As I remember it, perhaps twenty-five or thirty people attended the event in 1977. The main social activity on Friday evening was a scavenger hunt, the highlight of which was described here. In previous years George had led the group on a midnight hike. I don’t remember that at all. If it occurred, I think that I opted to turn in early.

The event was a good opportunity for the novices and the experienced kids to get to know one another in an nonthreatening setting. There were also some sporting events. I seem to remember a co-ed volleyball game.

To my surprise the food served was kosher. Jack Kay had to explain the rules to everyone.

For some reason George Ziegelmueller decided not to sponsor this activity in 1978 and 1979. I wasn’t officially coaching in 1980, but I don’t remember the FU going there that year either.

In 1978 and 1979 I led one-day research trips to Ann Arbor. There wasn’t much socializing, but we did all eat lunch together. I should have taken them to Krazy Jim’s Blimpy Burgers, but I did not think of kt.

There was a Halloween Party in the FU lounge in 1978 and possibly in 1979. I remember that Pam and Billy Benoit came dressed as Raggedy Ann and Andy and won an award for the best costume. Vince Follert won an award for having the most outrageous costume. I don’t remember what it was.

I probably came as a soldier (I still had my combat boots, olive drab jeans, and field jacket) or a cowboy (boots and hat). I am sure that I did not make or buy a costume.

I remember Kent Martini and Linda Calo wearing naked-person costumes. Kent was the woman and Linda was the man. They did not win an award in 1978, and so I assume that this was in 1979. It might have been at an unofficial party. George might not have been amused. In 1980 Sue and I drove to Brooklyn for Halloween. I don’t remember whether Wayne State had a party that year or not.

A banquet was held just before the Christmas break every year. We all ate somewhere in Manoogian Hall. In 1977 the theme for the supper was Chinese. Debby McCully and her colleagues at the Golden Mushroom restaurant served the meal.

At these events some of the staff members did skits. I remember that I performed the world’s worst magic act as Wavada the Weird. I did a mind-reading act with a see-through blindfold. I think that I threw a few cards, too. My big trick was to pull a rabbit out of the cardboard box that contained the hanging files for each FU member. I showed the box to the audience, and it really did look empty except, of course, for the hanging files. I then gave voice to the proper incantation and pulled a “rabbit” out of the box.

The rabbit was actually Charlie, one of our long-haired guinea pigs, with a pair of long ears attached to his head. Everyone hated W the W, but Charlie was a big hit.

I don’t remember much about the other Christmas parties. I do remember that Jack Kay (one of the very few Jews in the program) liked to play Santa. However, his ho-ho-ho was pathetic. So, I boomed out a hearty laugh from the hallway just before he entered.

The biggest social event of the year was the DSR-TKA¹ (pronounced DISS er tick uh) Banquet, which was held every spring a few weeks after NDT but well before final exams. In 1979 the group of new inductees into the fraternity included me, Vince Follert, Ruth Colwander, Scott Harris, and a few other people. We were expected to put on a skit. Vince wrote most of the script for ours. It loosely revolved around the Tonight Show. Scott was Johnny Carson; I was Ed McMahon. Scott did a Carnac the Magnificent routine with envelopes that I handed him.

Debbie really filled out this outfit; Ruth not so much.

Then the show stopped for a commercial for Debbie Debater Dolls. I was responsible for this part of the script. Ruth came on stage wearing Debbie’s trademark outfit, a blue denim pantsuit. It hung a little loose on Ruth’s wiry frame. I described all of the features of the doll, and Ruth robotically imitated Debbie’s debate mannerisms, saying “Moreover” again and again.

When I spoke the line that began with “Fully inflatable…”, I paused for a beat, peaked behind Ruth, and added a clause that I had left out of the script²: “although this model does not appear to be fully inflated.” Even Ruth cracked up when I did this.

I had two other short roles. I appeared as Andre Debuschere with a tie that almost reached my knees. I also had one singing line in a sketch that Vince wrote about something debate-oriented (I don’t remember what it was). I belted out in the lowest register that I could handle “For he could not ,,, our spread defeat” to the tune of the “For we like sheep” section of George Frideric Handel’s Messiah.

The crowd loved our skit. I must have attended two more banquets in 1979 and 1980, but I don’t remember them. I suspect that their skits did not measure up to ours.

This was a very good way to end the year. It made everyone feel like they were part of a family. We only met socially a few times a year, but everyone had a warm feeling for the others in the FU.

We also had fundraising events every year. We set up a table in the elevator lobby of Manoogian Hall. In 1978 we sold crepes. Sue Comparetto came in to help out. The other primary inhabitants of the building were the foreign language departments. They were very tough competition. They usually sold bratwursts and knackwursts. Both were absolutely delicious.

This is my chart. Apparently I will do something very emotional and stupid on March 31.

I thought about bringing in our 5120 computer and printer in 1980. It came with a program that print out a 30-day biorhythm graph for someone. The only input required was a birth date and the current date. I thought that people might be willing to pay a couple of bucks for that. It was completely bogus, but I thought that people might be intrigued. At the time biorhythms were a novelty.

I did not suggest this because the computer and printer would have taken up too much space. We only got one table. Also, the machines both weighed a ton. The latter probably would not have been a problem. If I said that no one could carry them from the car to the lobby, Scott would have carried them both in at once to prove me wrong.

Every year George had a pinochle party. I played a little when I was an undergraduate, but it did not take me long to get back up to speed. There was often a game in progress in the lounge, and I sometimes sat in. I considered pinochle as bridge for idiots.

In 1979 I was playing in a game in the lounge; one of the novices, Steve Rapaski, was my partner. He played so badly that I wrote up an affidavit for him in which he promised never to play pinochle again. I coerced him into signing it.

A few weeks later George announced the pairings for the party. My partner was Steve. I told him relax and have a good time. Wouldn’t you know it? We won first prize.

Celebrity watching at Shield’s usually meant keeping an eye peeled for Dickie V.

There were many impromptu outings. The question was usually Buddy’s or Shield’s? They both had absolutely great pizza at a reasonable price. It was usually a tough decision, but neither choice was ever a bad one.

Shield’s was Dick Vitale’s favorite restaurant. He was a flop as the coach of the Pistons, but he had been very good at U of D. He had not become a TV star yet, but he was a big celebrity in Detroit, baby. If we went to Shield’s, we might see him. The atmosphere there was very cordial.

Buddy’s was more of a family place. The atmosphere was not as warm as at Shield’s, but it was larger. There was a better chance that they could find a big table for us.

I actually liked Buddy’s better, but by the thinnest of margins. I have only tasted better pizza once, and that was in Naples.

I have one last story. In the spring of 1979, when I was 31, a group of us went to a bar that was near the campus. When we ordered our drinks the waitress said that she would need to see ID from everyone who did not order a coke.

I sprang to my feet and got out my wallet so that I could quickly retrieve my driver’s license. “Too late to take it back,” I insisted. “You carded me, and I insist on showing my license to you.”

I was pretty certain that this was the last time in my life that someone would question my purchase of an alcoholic beverage. My hair was already at least 10 percent grey.

1. DSR-TKA was (and is) a fraternal organization founded to promote competitive speech events in colleges. I never took it seriously, but George definitely did. In researching for these blogs I came to realize that many of the biggest names in debate were officers of the organization.

2. George insisted on approving the script.

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

Posted on March 14, 2021 by Mike

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Knee pads are easier to find than programmers.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Steve Rapaski drove a rolling greenhouse like this one.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

16. Sara’s website is here.

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

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

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

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

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

1977 Summer: Transition to Detroit

Posted on March 13, 2021 by Mike

Our own house! Continue reading →

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

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

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

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

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

And we only had to pay $125 per month!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Wavablog

Memoirs, bridge, popes, travel, and other stuff

Tag Archives: Wayne State

1997-1980 Part 4: Academics at Wayne State

1977-1980 Part 3B: Debate at Wayne State: The Coaches

1977-1980 Part 3D: Debate at Wayne State: Social Life

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

1977 Summer: Transition to Detroit