Amelia Verkerk University History, Women's History

Virginia Tech Cheerleading

This post was written by Student Library Assistant, Ella Winterling, sophomore at Virginia Tech studying Multimedia Journalism and Cinema. 

Cheerleading is perhaps one of the most distinctive symbols of school spirit, something that Virginia Tech is not short of. Cheerleading at Virginia Tech has been around for almost a century, and remains a key part of sporting events here at Virginia Tech. They lead the “Let’s Go Hokies” chant, followed by ushering the football players in with the Hokie flags along with “Enter Sandman”. As a part of the spirit squad, they cheer on events like football and basketball games with the responsibility of encouraging the crowd to support the Hokie athletes. 

Lane Stadium housed an exhibit during the 2009 to 2011 football seasons, dedicated to Virginia Tech Cheerleaders and their iconic uniforms. Many uniforms were collected and donated to the exhibit, which was organized by Sherwood “Sherry” Payne Quillen ‘71, a former Virginia Tech cheerleader. Now, the uniforms will now be housed in Special Collections and University Archives. 

In my position as student assistant, I was tasked with creating an inventory for these uniforms, storing them, and creating a resource record, so the materials can be searched for online (Ms 2024-078). The collection includes cheerleading uniforms from 1956 to 2012, with my personal favorite being the 1971 Women’s Uniform complete with hot pants and orange go-go boots. All the uniforms reflect the specific time and culture of when they were created and used.

Cheerleaders at VPI, 1933-1934

Cheerleading has been around at Virginia Tech for a long time, dating back to 1933 or even earlier. However, the team did not become co-ed till the 1955-1956 season. Patsy Steckler Bean was the first female Virginia Tech student to make it onto the team, and three women from Radford College, Bootie Bell Chewning, Merle Funk Perry, and Jeri Hagy Justice, joined the team as well. Their original uniform consisted of a poodle skirt, a Virginia Tech sweater, and black and white oxford shoes, and has since been replicated for a 2006 reunion. 

VPI Cheerleading Team, Bugle 1956

As cheerleading shifted, from leading cheers to a more athletic sport complete with flips and stunts, so did the uniforms. The late 1960s came with a change-up in the appearance of the Virginia Tech cheerleaders. Long pleated skirts, once a staple of the uniform, were traded in for shorter hems and more experimental styles. The 1968-1971 uniform, which was replicated for the 2009-2011 exhibit, includes a short jumper dress and cape, reminiscent of the show Star Trek, according to donor and former Virginia Tech Cheerleader, Sherry Quillen.

The 1970s came with even more changes, from bibbed shorts to neck-ties to hot pants and patent leather boots. Finally, the 80s ushered in the classic mini skirt and crop-top silhouette we associate with cheerleading today. 

Virginia Tech Cheerleaders, Bugle 1973
Hokie cheerleaders at Lane Stadium football game, 1992
Virginia Tech cheerleader, c. 1970s

While the history of cheerleading at Virginia Tech is not completely documented, photos, newspaper clippings, and alums like Sherry give us an idea of some of the spirit and importance of cheerleading at Virginia Tech.

In the 80s, Virginia Tech hosted the Universal Cheerleaders Association summer cheerleading camp multiple times. The training camp furthered skills in cheers, sideline, pyramids, and stunts while giving the cheerleaders daily evaluations. One year, actor and comedian Fred Willard even joined cheerleaders from across the country at the camp, filming for the show Real People that aired on NBC in the early 1980s.

A newspaper article from November 1983 commends the Virginia Tech cheerleaders as a crucial part in keeping the spirit up at Virginia tech games. Citing a 45-0 loss for Virginia Tech, the article highlights how the cheerleaders have to stay spirited. Whether winning or losing, cheerleaders are always there to impress the crowd with a stunt or lead a classic cheer, their job is incredibly important in terms of school spirit.

Other articles feature stories about the cheerleaders’ dedication and hard work. One article from 1981 says that “Cheering is not just getting up and yelling with a powerful voice.” It takes a lot of dedication and up to “12 to 15 hours of work each week”. 

In another article titled, “Cheers: Image May not Change, but Other Things Do,” a Virginia Tech cheerleader speaks about stereotypes for both male and female cheerleaders. She states the impression of male cheerleaders as “an incorrect impression”. She says “college cheerleading is harder and better than it’s ever been”, but that the image won’t change due to the portrayal of cheerleaders in the media. Cheerleading has always been a nuanced sport, not free from stereotypes and incorrect perceptions. However, the hard work and spirit of the sport has always been prevalent, especially at Virginia Tech.

Virginia Tech cheerleaders, c. early 1980s
Hokie cheerleaders at Lane Stadium football game, 1992
Hokie cheerleader at Lane Stadium football game, 1992

The VT Cheerleading Uniform Collection (Ms 2024-078) highlights how the team was able to adapt and change along with different trends and culture throughout its history. The collection was put together and donated by Virginia Tech Cheerleading alumni, showcasing just how proud and committed the organization is, going beyond their years of college. While the uniforms may have changed, the spirit of the Virginia Tech Cheerleaders has remained the same. 

Resources:

  • RG 31/14/2
  • Photos via Historic Photograph Collection and Virginia Tech Bugles
Jade Snelling International Archive of Women in Architecture (IAWA), Women's History

Organizational Politics and the Evolution of the AIA Task Force on Women in the Profession

Created in 1857, the American Institute of Architects (AIA) is the primary professional organization for architects in the United States, the stated purpose of which was and is “to unite in fellowship all members of the architectural profession.” Perhaps it goes without saying that at the time it was established it was presumed that all such members would be (white) men. Louise Bethune, the first woman to become a member of the Institute was admitted in 1888, more than thirty years after its founding. The Institute exercises social control over public perception of architecture, professional and hiring standards, and opportunities for its membership.

Nearly a century after Bethune’s admission to the AIA, the organization’s inclusion of women hadn’t progressed much, which was symptomatic of both the institutional culture and the architectural profession writ large. In 1973, a resolution was proposed and adopted at the National AIA Convention in San Francisco that the organization should “take action to integrate women into all aspects of the profession as full participants” and conduct an inquiry into “the status of women in the profession” to be reported on at the 1974 Convention (Edelman 1989, 118). The 1973 resolution was a product of the liberatory rights movements of the 1960s and, consequently, of several years of women becoming increasingly vocal about their second-class status as architects.

As Judith Edelman notes in her essay “Task Force On Women: The AIA Responds to a Growing Presence,” published in the edited volume Architecture: A Place for Women, most women architects in the 1960s and 1970s found professional support outside of the American Institute of Architects. Women had either developed their own informal professional networks or taken the initiative to form their own official local or regional coalitions, associations, or organizations. Ellen Perry Berkeley, editor of the above-mentioned volume and co-creator of the New York-based group Alliance for Women in Architecture (AWA), contributed an influential article to this groundswell of advocacy (Merrett 2018). Berkeley’s piece “Women in Architecture,” appearing in the 1972 issue of Architectural Forum, presented a cogent case for institutional change. Her article begins with the Institute’s refusal to acknowledge that it bears any responsibility for discrimination against women members and, by extension, practitioners:

True or false: The architectural profession, in a kind of ‘gentlemen’s agreement,’ gives its women unequal pay, unequal responsibility, unequal opportunity, unequal recognition, and unequal respect as serious professionals.

False, say the official spokesmen. ‘Some of my best friends are women architects,’ jokes James A. Scheeler, Deputy Executive Vice President of the AIA. More seriously he says, ‘I’ve heard consistently there should be more women in the profession. But I’m not aware of our schools discouraging women: I’d like to see some facts.’ He defines a ‘positive program’ as getting more women ‘into the pipeline,’ and a negative program as raising the subject of discrimination ‘without hard data.’ (Berkeley 1972, 46)

In the article, Berkeley cites what “studies” exist: the AIA’s estimate (according to a survey of its membership conducted in 1971, women comprised roughly 1.2% of its members (233 women in 1969, a number estimated to have grown to between 250 and 300 by 1971)) and refers to the Bureau of Labor Statistics, which estimated that women composed around 4% of registered architects in the United States. She gives other comparative statistics (wages, school admissions) based on the best information available at the time, but notes a frustrating lack of reliable or systematic data. She does however systematically dismantle Scheeler’s claim that architecture’s “woman problem” is purely a pipeline problem. Implied, but never explicitly stated, is that his request for concrete “hard data” is an ignorant dismissal masquerading as reasonableness.

The AIA Task Force (first a sub-committee) on Women addressed this data vacuum by undertaking the most comprehensive survey of the status of women in architecture to date. To return to the group’s formation, Judith Edelman writes of her misgivings when she was asked, pursuant to the AIA’s 1973 resolution, to chair a subcommittee of the Personnel Practices Committee: “I was taken aback… that the entire subject was relegated to a minor arm of a committee dealing with many other issues. We had supposed that an independent committee or task force would be the appropriate entity” (Edelman 1989, 119). She accepted the position, however, and began working to survey women across the profession, even as her sub-committee suffered several setbacks, whether from incompetence or intentional obstruction from other AIA members remains uncertain.

The lion’s share of the documentation we hold in the International Archive of Women in Architecture (IAWA) on the American Institute of Architects’ (AIA) Task Force on Women and the Commission’s efforts to “integrate women into the profession and the AIA” from the early-to-mid-1970s can be found among Edelman‘s papers, while a few cross-references exist in other IAWA collections, including Natalie de Blois‘, Marie Laleyan’s, and Jean Linden Young‘s, all of whom were members of the commission (Patricia Schiffelbein and Joan Sprague, whose papers are held at the Harvard Radcliffe Institute’s Schlesinger Library, were also members of the commission at various points).

In 1974 Edelman requested a status change to an independent task force and Marie Laleyan became her co-chair. The outcome of their work was an Affirmative Action Plan (AAP) delivered to the AIA Board of Directors in December 1975 that included their original report on the status of women in the profession, and their specific recommendations to address the major inequities laid out in said report. The plan outlined specific goals, actions, and tools; it provided guidance on future representation of women and inclusive language for professional literature; it gave precise details on compliance with Title VII of the Civil Rights Act (as amended by the Equal Employment Opportunity Act of 1972) and advised the AIA to create standard guides on “lawful employment practices” to distribute to members upon request; it recommended scholarships and early education interventions to recruit young women into the profession; and it provided benchmark statistics to annually evaluate implementation of the AAP. By all accounts, it was an intentionally actionable document with built-in means for its future assessment and adjustment. As stated in the final plan:

The Affirmative Action concept has been developed over the past ten years as a tool to correct the results of past and present discrimination. Experience has shown, however, that for an affirmative action effort to be effective, it must be directed by a set of specific procedures… [It] is a results-oriented, open-ended plan of action. It requires the analysis of existing conditions, setting of goals and timetables, and development of programs and a set of implementation and record-keeping procedures. (v, AAP/AIA, Edelman, Box 1, Folder 12)

Cover page, The American Institute of Architects, “Affirmative Action Plan for the Integration of Women in the Architectural Profession,” 1975.
Affirmative Action Statement, The American Institute of Architects, “Affirmative Action Plan for the Integration of Women in the Architectural Profession,” 1975.
Request to change committee structure, June 20, 1974. Addressed to Edward Petrazio, AIA.

 

In Edelman’s candid postmortem, she writes, “In spite of the odds against us, we had produced a very thorough document with great potential for accelerating improvement in the status of women architects. And nothing much happened.” (1989, 122) She goes on to reflect that, while the AIA did nothing with the plan, the work went on to have a life beyond its institutional charge. She focuses on the report’s value as the first systematic attempt to measure and analyze the demographic makeup of the profession, the primary causes of unbalanced gender representation, and the endemic and active discriminatory practices (in hiring, promotion, salary, etc.) deployed against licensed women architects.

On the one hand, it’s an old story–institutions being conservative and resistant to change, well-intentioned (but toothless) reports being ignored. But I think Edelman was right–for those who want to carry on the work, the AAP provides a snapshot of the profession at a point in time and it clearly articulates women practitioners’ grievances (as pulled from surveys). Looked at this way, the report’s lack of effect proved its charge correct and underscored the need for institutional change. And in fact it came to embody a feminist critique of intractable organizational politics. A full copy of the report with its appendices and recommendations is available in Special Collections and University Archives or can be found online here. For supporting documentation, please see the Judith Edelman Architectural Papers.

References:

Box 1, Folder 12, Judith Edelman Architectural Papers, Ms1997-010, Special Collections and University Archives, Virginia Tech, Blacksburg, Va. https://ead.lib.virginia.edu/vivaxtf/view?docId=oai/VT/repositories_2_resources_2044.xml.

Berkeley, Ellen Perry. “Women in Architecture.” The Architectural Forum, vol. 137, no. 2, September 1972. https://usmodernist.org/AF/AF-1972-09.pdf. Accessed 13 Sept. 2024.

McQuaid, Matilda, and Ellen Perry Berkeley. Architecture : A Place for Women. Smithsonian Institution Press, 1989.

———-Edelman, Judith. “Task Force On Women: The AIA Responds to a Growing Presence.” Architecture : A Place for Women. Smithsonian Institution Press, 1989.

Merrett, Andrea. “Ellen Perry Berkeley.” Now What?!, Architexx, 24 May 2018. https://www.nowwhat-architexx.org/articles/2018/5/24/ellen-perry-berkeley. Accessed 13 Sept. 2024.

Amelia Verkerk University History

The Many Shapes and Names of the Drillfield

The Drillfield is probably the most iconic and storied site at Virginia Tech. The Drillfield has taken many names and shapes over the years and has witnessed almost every turning point in Virginia Tech’s history – protests, tragedies, and anniversaries as well as sleep-ins, pig-roasts, and icy (mis)adventures. The Drillfield has been a part of so many stories on campus that one single blog post cannot capture them all, but lets start at the beginning…

For the first few years of Virginia Tech, there was no drill field of any kind. In the late 1870s, cadets unofficially established a drill field behind the First and Second Academic Buildings (northeast of the current Henderson Hall). As more buildings were constructed and more students arrived, that drill field was extended north towards Upper Quad (behind Lane Hall) and later even further extended towards today’s Shanks Hall. During the 1880s and 1890s, Blacksburg residents would gather to watch the cadet’s drill exercises, parades, as well as all the new baseball and football games happening.

Dr. Edward Ernest Sheib, circa 1890s
Cadets on Sheib Field, circa 1899-1900
Baseball game on Sheib Field, circa 1895
1896 football team on Sheib Field

Until 1894, the area that is the present-day Drillfield was used mostly for the college farm and garden plots. In 1877, a faculty house was constructed at the northeast corner of the present-day Drillfield (later repurposed as the Administrative Building), and in 1888, the Agricultural Experiment Station was built roughly where the April 16th memorial is today. President John McLaren McBryde allocated a part of the college farm for the cadets’ drills and athletics in 1894 with the help of the newly formed Athletic Association. This field (i.e., the first rendition of the present day Drillfield) was originally called Sheib Field after Professor Edward Ernest Sheib who taught History, English, and Political Economy at Virginia Agricultural and Mechanical College (VAMC – Virginia Tech’s first name). Professor Sheib was also on the Board of Directors for VAMC’s Athletic Association and the main financial supporter of the football team.

Sheib Field quickly became the new favorite spot for watching the cadet drills and parades as well as cheering on the baseball and football teams. The first football game on Sheib Field happened on October 20, 1894 against Emery and Henry College (now Emery and Henry University). The final score was VAMC, 16 – Emery and Henry 0, a great first game and victory on their new athletic field. The previous drill field was still in use, mostly for interclass games and practices or new sports at VAMC like tennis. Sheib Field was often referred to as both the Athletic Field and the drill field to distinguish which parts of the field were used for what activities.

Sheib Field soon was used for major events and celebrations, such as commencement processions, Field Day, and George Washington’s birthday. At the end of each academic year, cadets would put on a “mimic battle” (also called a sham battle) at Sheib Field, where spectators could watch the cadets stage a pretend or recreation of a historical battle to practice their skills and maneuvers. By the turn of the century, much of the present-day Drillfield was still not developed and was being used for garden plots for the Horticultural Department. However, in 1900, the Athletic Association did construct a quarter-mile track around Sheib Field, though a varsity track team would not be established until 1906. Sheib Field still had a long way to go – half the field was six feet lower than the other half and there were no stands at the time for spectators. In 1901, the Horticulture Department moved some of its garden plots to behind the college orchard, which freed up space to expand Sheib Field west.

With the new expansion came a new name for the field. Sheib Field was renamed Gibboney Field in 1902 to honor James Haller Gibboney (class of 1901), who was the first Graduate Manager of Athletics at Virginia Agricultural and Mechanical College and Polytechnic Institute (VPI – Virginia Tech’s second name).

James Haller Gibboney, 1901
The Snow Battle of 1908 on Gibboney Field

In that same year, a wooden stand was built by the track to seat spectators, encircling the south side of the newly named Gibboney Field (still referred to colloquially as the Athletic Field for sports and the Drillfield for drills). More permanent stands were constructed the next year to try and keep up with the growing number of Hokie fans. Between 1902-1909, Gibboney Field underwent small repairs and maintenance, starting with moving the last of the Horticulture Department’s Garden plots to the north of present-day Derring Hall. In the fall of 1904, Gibboney Field held over 1,000 spectators for the NC State vs VPI football game. By the 1905 season, Gibboney Field had 3,000 spectators for the UVA vs VPI football game. Despite a $1,600 renovation in 1906, Gibboney Field needed even more work, including a new drainage system, grandstand, and re-grading.

Again, with these major renovations, a new name was given to the field – Miles Field. During its time as Miles Field, students also called it Miles Meadow, the Athletic Field, and the drill field depending on what part of the field they were referencing. Miles Field was named in honor of Clarence Paul “Sally” Miles, who served as the captain of the baseball team when he was a student, VPI’s head football coach, baseball coach, and later Athletic Director.  

On the newly renovated Miles Field, VPI held its first Pep Rally on October 30, 1909. That same year, the annual Engineering vs Agriculture faculty football game began. In addition to the new traditions, Field Day, the annual Snow Battle, and numerous Dress Parades continued at Miles Field, cementing itself as the center of campus life at VPI.

Field House, circa 1915
Track meet on Miles Field, circa 1923
“Sham Battle” on Miles Field, 1914
Miles Field, circa 1910

In November 1914, only 60 feet from the football field, the Field House was completed, the first building on campus used mainly as a gymnasium. Occasionally, the Field House was used for dances and briefly as an infirmary during the 1918-1920 flu pandemic, but mainly was meant for athletics. Miles Field was starting to take the iconic oval shape – with the track, Library, Administrative Building, Agriculture Experiment Station, and the Field House outlining the field.

During this time, Blacksburg High School athletes (both boys and girls) also played on Miles Field during the school year and borrowed the Field House during the winter. Miles Field even became the site of alum events, such as the Alumni Parade and reunion games.

World War I drastically changed how Miles Field was used. The 1917-1918 school year saw major changes to the curriculum that included almost daily drills and field maneuvers in anticipation for joining the war. The number of athletes was noticeably smaller that year; however, spectators still turned out to games in droves despite ticket sales being taxed to help fund the war effort (season tickets at the time cost $5.00). In the fall of 1918, Miles Field witnessed the new Students’ Army Training Corp implemented by the United States Army.

On November 11, 1918, with the pandemic under control in the Blacksburg area and the war over, VPI held a formal parade on Miles Field to celebrate.

General maintenance and upkeep of Miles Field continued over the next few years. By 1921, Miles Field was drastically regraded due to the Cadet Band having trouble marching over the uneven turf. Consequently, a master plan for Miles Field was underway in 1922 by architect Warren Manning. This plan decided to formally separate the athletic field and drill field, so a committee of the Athletic Council approved creating an athletic stadium 200 yards away from Miles Field. Built in sections and funded by class donations, Miles Stadium was built and housed football, baseball, and track events until 1926.

To avoid confusion with the new stadium complete, a new name was needed for the old Miles Field – the Drillfield. Miles Field was no longer used as an athletic field, so the track and grandstand were ripped up, and all parts of the field were combined into one large expanse.

VPI development plan, 1927
Proposed plan for VPI campus, 1925

However, to the dismay of the drill-weary cadets, President Burruss wanted to name the Drillfield the “Recreation Field.” On maps of campus at that time, the Drillfield was labeled as the Recreation Field, but students continued to call the area the Drillfield as seen in student publications.  

One downside to expanding the Drillfield was heavy rain caused the field to become so muddy, the laundry services on campus could not keep up with the demand. The mud-filled Drillfield quickly earned the name “Begg’s Lake” after the civil engineering professor, Robert B.H. Begg, who oversaw the re-grading of the Drillfield. Nevertheless, VPI continued to work on the Drillfield for the next few years and throughout the 1930s. Struble’s Creeks, which ran by the War Memorial Hall, was diverted using a concrete culvert in 1934. By the end of the 1930s, the moniker “Begg’s Lake” was no more thanks to all the excavation, drainage, and grading done.

One proposed plan for the Drillfield was to add a pool or lake at the lower end of the Drillfield fit for “boating and swimming in the summer and skating in the winter”. This plan was nixed when an engineering professor pointed out that the water would quickly become polluted and muddied. This proposed plan eventually morphed into what is the Duck Pond today.

For the next few decades, the Drillfield remained what President Burruss had envisioned, the heart and soul of modern-day campus of Virginia Tech. Hokie-stone buildings were erected surrounding the field, such as Burruss Hall, Patton Hall, and Williams Hall. Parking spaces were added all around to compliment the new roadway. In 1960, the War Memorial Chapel was completed on the north side of the Drillfield. It was not until the summer of 1971 that two asphalt walkways were laid across the Drillfield. After the tragedy on April 16, 2007, the Drillfield became a permanent site of mourning and remembrance for the university with the construction of the April 16 Memorial and Memorial Benches. In 2015, more walkways were added, using 14 different materials as part of a project to develop a new master plan for the Drillfield. While still ongoing as of 2024, the plan’s focus is on preserving the field while making it as usable and accessible for everyone.

Virginia Tech campus map, 1952
Virginia Tech campus map, 1958
Drillfield, 1963
Virginia Tech campus map, 2024

 

References:

Cox, Clara B. (2008). The Drillfield: at the heart of campus. Virginia Tech Magazine, 30(2). Retrieved from https://www.archive.vtmag.vt.edu/winter08/feature1.html.

Kinnear, D. L. (1972). The First 100 Years: A History of Virginia Polytechnic Institute and State University. Virginia Polytechnic Institute Educational Foundation, Inc.

Robertson, Jenkins M. (1972). Historical Data Book: Centennial Edition. Virginia Polytechnic Institute and State University.

Temple, Harry D. (1996). The Bugle’s Echo: A Chronology of Cadet Life at the Military College at Blacks, Virginia, The Virginia Polytechnic Institute. The Virginia Tech Corp of Cadets, Inc. vol. I-V

Wallenstein, Peter. (2021). Virginia Tech Land-Grant University 1872-1997: History of a School, a State, a Nation. 2nd ed. Virginia Tech Publishing.

All images included in this blog post can be found in our Historic Photograph Collection or at Special Collections and University Archives Online. 

archivistkira About Special Collections and University Archives

Summer technology changes at Special Collections and University Archives!

Please be aware that both Special Collections and University Archives (SCUA) and the University Libraries will be going through several major technology changes in the next few weeks. During this time, you may notice that resources are moving to a new “look,” are temporarily unavailable, or have broken links. We appreciate your patience while we work through these changes and have an opportunity to make decisions and update resources behind-the-scenes. We apologize that some resources may be interrupted, but our services should not be.

As we get through these transitions, we’ll have a new post or two to talk about what these changes mean for visitors, researchers, and staff at SCUA, and if we expect some longer-term temporarily solutions in place.

We encourage you to contact us if you have questions (specref@vt.edu or 540-231-6308)–we’re here to help, especially when things are temporarily disrupted!

Jade Snelling Architecture, History, International Archive of Women in Architecture (IAWA)

Universal Design: Approaching Accessibility and Sustainability with Intention in the Present and Future of Design

This post was written by IAWA Student Library Assistant Neera Naran. She studies landscape architecture in the College of Art, Architecture, and Design at Virginia Tech.

The Steven and Cathi House Architectural Collection is available for research in the University Libraries’ Special Collections and University Archives at Virginia Tech.

On the Baja Peninsula, overlooking the Sea of Cortez, sits Casa Cabo Pulmo, House + House Architects’ one-of-a-kind, fully accessible home. Covered in rich hues of red, orange, and yellow and an abundance of floor-to-ceiling windows, the two-story house radiates warmth, reflecting the surrounding landscape. Casa Cabo Pulmo, built in 2010, is just one of many environmentally conscious and well-choreographed establishments that Cathi and Steven House have created in their careers. Alumni of the Virginia Tech architecture program, where they met in the 1970s, the Houses formed House + House Architects in 1982 and since then have garnered over 50 design awards, been featured in numerous national and international publications, lectured across North America, and published three books. When beginning the creative process for Casa Cabo Pulmo, Steven and Cathi approached the home through the lens of universal design, something that can be observed across many of their projects.

In the practice of architecture, historically, accessibility has often been an afterthought, i.e., not intentionally integrated into the design and aesthetic of a project. Universal design is making things accessible regardless of physical or mental ability and doing so without the need for adaptation or specialization. The term was coined in the 1980s by architect Ronald Mace, who created universal design as someone with first-hand experience living in a world that didn’t always consider accessibility, as he used a wheelchair for his whole life after contracting polio at the age of nine. Universal design simply refers to design usable by all people. To ensure the creation of a space suitable for all types of abilities, it’s important to take on accessibility as a key part of the design process, thinking about how it shapes user experience in the present and future of the project.

Accessibility and sustainability were considered throughout all the design moves with Casa Cabo Pulmo. The house is a happy blend of the owners, Patricia Wright and Debra Zeyen, as Patricia is a disability rights activist and Debra is an executive director for an institute in Baja, Mexico, striving to protect coastal ecosystems. Wright and Zeyen wanted to make sure the house could withstand time and provide for their needs long into the future, as they had current physical demands for themselves and friends, as well as a future where they could both possibly have disability concerns.

House + House Architects believe that accessibility shouldn’t be an afterthought in design. In the words of Steven House, “A lot of it comes down to common sense. We assume people are going to get older in their home, and you might eventually have a harder time working and seeing. For every project we do, we think about these concepts and incorporate them from the beginning so they’re not tacked on” (2015). Accessibility should be fully incorporated in design strategies, addressed as an integral part of the experience it provides, not merely baseline functionality. Americans with Disabilities Act (ADA) compliance is done in a tasteful manner in the style of Cathi House, showing there was thought and intention behind it, and displaying accessibility in a beautiful way.

South elevation view where the ramp entrance is shown, the entire structure incorporated into the design of the house. From the Steven and Cathi House Architectural Collection, Ms2006-017, Special Collections, University Libraries, Virginia Polytechnic and State University.

One of the main features of the house is a winding 165 ft. ramp that can be used to get from one level of the house to the other, including terraces for stopping and observing surrounding views of the landscape and water. Many of the design choices were informed by the landscape, including the intricate hand railing for the ramp that casts shadows which mimic the waves of the ocean. The ramp presents twists and turns in order for the user to spend time in the space, appreciating the beauty it has to offer, rather than just passing through. In addition to the ramp, Cathi House included hydraulic lifts on ceilings, lower light switches and handles, accessible bathrooms and showers, access to all patios, appliances and counters at a lower level, higher outlets, curved benches, and wide hallways to contribute to the universal design of the house. While some of these features may seem insignificant to an able-bodied person, these make all the difference in the everyday life of someone with accessibility concerns. Although they were made with the intention of being used primarily by those with disabilities, the owners believed these design additions to be helpful for all, regardless of ability.

Section elevation of ADA accessible ramp leading into the house. From the Steven and Cathi House Architectural Collection, Ms2006-017, Special Collections, University Libraries, Virginia Polytechnic and State University.
Rendered section elevation of the ADA accessible ramp leading into the house. From the Steven and Cathi House Architectural Collection, Ms2006-017, Special Collections, University Libraries, Virginia Polytechnic Institute and State University.

Along with accessibility, sustainability was also heavily addressed in the design of the house, as the owners wanted an energy-independent home. Features like passive and active solar heating, convection and shading, and cross ventilation were added to the establishment. Additionally, water storage in the ADA accessible ramp for rainwater with an irrigation and purification system was designed. Material usage was also informed by sustainability and energy use, as Palapa roofing and shades, concrete flooring, and solar panels were included.

First floor plan with view of the open layout, including features like concrete flooring and the 165 ft. ramp. From the Steven and Cathi House Architectural Collection, Ms2006-017, Special Collections, University Libraries, Virginia Polytechnic and State University.

Not only does House + House Architects put the idea of universal design into practice, but they spread their knowledge of it, as well. Cathi and Steven believe that universal design isn’t discussed or taught properly at universities, and they make it a mission to have accessibility be a large part of their teachings to students. In their program, The Center for Architecture Sustainability + Art (CASA), the Houses host a group of Virginia Tech architecture students every summer at their school in San Miguel de Allende, Mexico. This study abroad program strives to teach students how to make their environment a thoughtful and sustainable place. The group travels to multiple cities in Mexico, observing the history of architecture in the past in order to create connections to architecture of the future. They prioritize informing young designers with the knowledge of accessibility and sustainability so that in the future, they are able to think of these as integral parts of the process. Ultimately, CASA provides students with a deeper understanding of what it means to be a designer living in a place that harmonizes with an interconnected and diverse environmental system.

Universal design is key to the future of architecture, as it creates spaces made for the widest range of bodies, centering user experience in the creative process. How people function in a space and how they feel in a space should go hand in hand when developing a design, as Cathi House has demonstrated in Casa Cabo Pulmo, which is a beautiful testament to what accessibility and sustainability can look like when considered essential factors of design.

References

Carey, Lydia. “Award-winning Baja home proves accessibility can be beautiful.” Mexico News Daily, 28 August 2019, https://mexiconewsdaily.com/mexico-living/home-proves-accessibility-can-be-beautiful/.

House + House Architects. “Casa Cabo Pulmo.” House and House, undated, https://houseandhouse.com/work.php?pcode=pulmo.

Sisson, Patrick. “A Remote Baja Home Built to Be Accessible to Everyone.” Curbed, VOX Media, 13 August 2015, https://archive.curbed.com/2015/8/13/9930910/casa-caba-pulmo-universal-design-house.

The Universal Design Project. “What is Universal Design? – The UD Project.” The Universal Design Project, undated, https://universaldesign.org/definition.

jojacks2 Civil War, Local/Regional History

Letters from a Galvanized Yankee

Despite twin victories at Gettysburg and Vicksburg, the Union Army continued to sustain heavy losses–in the form of casualties and desertions–in 1863, leading President Lincoln to  authorize the somewhat unorthodox proposal of recruiting soldiers from among Confederate prisoners of war. Organization of the 1st United States Volunteer Infantry (USVI) commenced at Point Lookout Prison on January 21, 1864.

Among the first prisoners to take the oath of allegiance and enlist was Andrew Jackson “Jack” Lewis, formerly of the 40th Virginia Infantry. The Andrew J. Lewis Correspondence (Ms1988-097) in Special Collections and University Archives contains three letters from Andrew and one from Harriet Lewis, his wife.

A native of Orange County, Virginia, Lewis grew up in Spotsylvania County, where he married Harriet C. Tapp in 1859. By 1860, he was working as a laborer while he and Harriet lived with Harriet’s mother and family. Through the first year of the Civil War, Lewis apparently remained uninvolved in the conflict. When the 40th Virginia Infantry—composed of men recruited from Lancaster, Northumberland, and Richmond counties—encamped in the vicinity of the Spotsylvania-Caroline county line in April, 1862, however, Lewis may have found the lure of army life impossible to resist. On May 7, he enlisted in Company B. Whether he participated just a few weeks later in the Battle of Seven Pines, in which the 40th sustained heavy losses, is unknown. He most likely participated in the Battle of Chancellorsville the following May, and evidence places him in the Battle of Gettysburg in July, 1863. While on retreat from Gettysburg, the 40th engaged Union forces in the Battle of Falling Waters on July 14. Lewis was among 500 Confederates (including 73 from his regiment) taken prisoner at the battle. After being imprisoned in Baltimore for a month, Lewis was transferred to Point Lookout, Maryland. It’s likely that their first news that Lewis’s family had of his whereabouts came from a letter within our collection, written at Point Lookout 13 weeks after his capture. In this brief letter, written to his mother, Lewis advises her that he is well but despairs of any hope of an impending release.

Organization of the 1st USVI provided Lewis with the opportunity for an early reprieve. While the choice of joining the ranks of a former enemy would have been a highly personal matter, subject to many individual considerations, prison conditions undoubtedly won the argument for many inmates. Andrew J. Lewis, whose Confederate service may have owed more to a yen for adventure than to ideology, became one of the earliest recruits, taking the oath of allegiance and enlisting for three years’ service in Company A, 1st United States Volunteers on January 23.

Nearly 6,000 other prisoners made the same decision. They came to be known derisively among both their former and future comrades as “Galvanized Yankees,” soldiers, who, despite the outward appearance of their uniform, were considered of suspect loyalty. As such, the regiments of former Confederates were generally assigned to duty far removed from the front lines of the war. Many of them ultimately were assigned to duty in the American west.

Following its organization, the 1st was assigned to provost duty in eastern Virginia and North Carolina for several months before being transferred in August to the Department of the Northwest in Wisconsin. While enroute, several companies were detached from the regiment in Chicago, Company A being among four companies continuing to Milwaukee for assignment to the District of Minnesota. In an interesting letter written to his wife on September 10, 1865, Lewis discusses a number of topics, among them his favorable impression of the local prospects for a farmer and the possibility of moving there permanently:

I think if you could Bee in this State a while and Enjoy the nice Breeses and good helth you would Bee Sadisfied to live in this Country, thir is plenty of good land and costes But little[.] men can get 160 acres in this State for fifteen dollars … I think that a man that has Bin Broken up By the ware can do Better, and make a Better living that any other State I have Bin Since I have Bin traveling [.] a man working By the month can get from 35 to 40 dollars per month and at some work he can get fifty.

Lewis further writes of his great desire to return home once more before deciding whether to permanently relocate to Minnesota following his discharge. He writes of being desperate to see Harriet again and that when he received her last letter, he and a friend “went out to the Bank of the Miss [Mississippi River] an he read it for me [postwar census records indicate that Lewis was illiterate] and I tel you we had a time of it we Boohooed an while and then we [illegible] our eyes allmost out.” Lewis notes that Company A is soon to depart for Fort Leavenworth, Kansas, and he hopes to be mustered out upon arrival “as I have Bin told that is a place for mustering out all ex rebel troops.”

Lewis’s optimism for an early discharge was misplaced. On November 27, Harriet writes from home, expressing a desperate need to hear from him, having recently written three letters with no response. She then shares news of family members, including Andrew’s mother, who is soon to be remarried, and asks Andrew to send her an ambrotype of himself.

By this time, Company A was in western Kansas, manning the outpost at Monument Station, an “eating station” along the Butterfield Stagecoach Line. Responding to Harriet’s letter, Andrew describes the territory as “a lonesome Country – we cant get Stamps or nothing Else except Buffalow meat.” His lonesomeness spurs him to offer to pay Harriet’s way to Kansas and to ask about the possibility of finding a substitute to complete his military service obligation: “I think you had Better make up your mind to come out hear – if you will come I will Send you money to come on – please send me word who that is that wants to take my place in the army, and then I will let you know what I can do – I will send you Some money the first opportunity[.]”

Andrew and the rest of the 1st USVI mustered out at Fort Leavenworth on May 22, 1866. Whether Harriet ever had the opportunity to visit him while he was in Kansas, we don’t know. We do know that after returning home, Andrew relinquished the idea of moving to Minnesota. Postwar census records show that the Lewises continued to live in Spotsylvania County with their three children. Andrew Jackson Lewis died in Spotsylvania County on April 25, 1883; Harriet, on September 9, 1914.

jojacks2 University History

John Counselman Talks Football

As we’re well into college football season, I thought this would be a good time to share a letter, relevant to the game’s history, written by a one-time Tech player and found within our collections:

Born in Wythe County, Virginia, in 1880, John Sanders Counselman matriculated at Virginia Agricultural and Mechanical College and Polytechnic Institute (often referred to as VPI, for the sake of much-needed brevity) at the age of twenty. Upon graduating with a bachelor’s degree in science in 1903, he was awarded a fellowship in surveying and drawing, and he earned a master’s degree in civil engineering the following year. Soon afterward, Counselman accepted a position as instructor of mathematics and civil engineering  at the Georgia School of Technology (today, Georgia Tech).

On January 7, 1906, Counselman sat down to write a letter to his friend and former civil engineering classmate, Louis O’Shaughnessy, to acknowledge receipt of the solutions to some shared mathematical problems. Counselman then discusses at length a particular problem involving the area of a cone. Those who aren’t math nerds might be forgiven for not reading past the opening paragraph, but those who are football nerds might regret the decision.

John S. Counselman (from the 1903 Bugle)

In addition to his mathematical prowess, John Counselman displayed great skill on the gridiron from 1901 to 1903, starting at fullback for VPI’s team, then most often known as the Polytechs or the Techmen. For his abilities, Counselman was named Second Team All-Southern in 1901. He may have received many more accolades had he not been overshadowed on the playing field by VPI’s legendary halfback, Hunter Carpenter.

After discussing mathematical conundrums, Counselman quickly transitions to other matters, noting that he’d recently sent O’Shaughnessy a “copy of the system of F. B. … [m]ost of it being Heisman’s.” It takes only a moment to realize that “F. B.” is “football,” and that “Heisman” is none other than John W. Heisman, the iconic coach for whom college football’s Heisman Trophy is named. Over a 35-year career as a head coach, Heisman amassed a record of 186-70-18, and he’s credited with a number of early football innovations, among them the forward pass. In January, 1906, Heisman had just finished the second season of what would be a 16-year stint at Georgia Tech. Counselman apparently served as assistant coach during both of Heisman’s first two seasons at Georgia Tech.

I find no record of Heisman having published anything about his system of coaching prior to his 1921 book, Principles of Foot Ball (or “Football,” in subsequent editions), but it’s obvious from Counselman’s letter that the coach had already made a name for himself as a football guru.:

“The old maxim that tricks won’t win games in F. B. is true till Heisman takes charge of affairs, and then the ‘saying’ is false. Since his migration to the South since when he has coached Auburn Ala. 4 years, Clempson [sic] 4, [Georgia] Tech. 2 and coached 3 yrs prior to them, he has lost few games.” He continues by lauding Heisman’s system and claiming that a team coached by him would defeat any team of similar skills. Counselman expresses wariness of running any of Heisman’s “trick plays,” however, concluding that “no coach can make them go, but Heisman.”

Counselman then diagrams and describes a favorite play of Heisman’s, one that he had used when coaching Clemson against VPI in 1901. “You see that Quarter faces slowly to the left, taking one step in that direction but not moving one foot. The Back who finally takes the ball hides behind the Q and the two other Backs running between these two completely hide the runner. Suddenly the Q shoots thro [through] in front of them, taking out any defensive player in the road.” (Whether or not the play itself was successful, Clemson fell to VPI in that game, 11-17.)

Counselman shares Heisman’s “criss-cross” play with O’Shaughnessy

Why Counselman would be showing Heisman’s plays to O’Shaughnessy is something of a mystery. By early 1905, O’Shaughnessy had been working as an instructor at VPI for nearly a year, but I find no record of his having been associated with the football team in any way. As athletic programs were then less structured than they are today, however, it’s not unlikely that members of the faculty may have been pro viding informal assistance to VPI’s head coach at the time, Clarence “Sally” Miles.

Counselman’s letter is written on the letterhead of the Georgia School of Technology, but the envelope was posted from Ann Arbor, Michigan, and by the time of its writing, Counselman was halfway through a year’s study at the University of Michigan. Counselman would soon be searching for a job. The former Polytech writes that Heisman has been using his influence to win him a teaching/coaching position at Mississippi A. & M. (today Mississippi State University), but he expresses reservations about taking the position: “[T]heir math course strikes me as being rotten.”

Counselman then discusses the future of college football: “What is going to become of the game? They are surely giving it h—. Representation from the Big Nine meet next Friday in C— to discuss it, and they are discussing it lots in the East. Well I don’t care my self what they do. It is a brutal game and one that I got damn tired of playing at V. P. I. I love to watch it, however, and am of the opinion that the more they open it, the more dangerous it will become. I think Billy Ried [sic] is correct in his views and especially when he says that those who expect the roughness to be eliminated had as well abandon the game entirely. “

As indicated by Counselman, representatives of the Western College Conference, the “Big Nine,” met in Chicago that January to address the problem of a game that had become increasingly violent. Between 1900 and 1905, according to the Washington Post, more than 40 players died from injuries sustained on the playing field.  In the east, talks were held in the White House. Together, these and other reform meetings resulted in a number of changes that made the game safer and led to the formation of a rule-making authority, the Intercollegiate Association of the United States, now the NCAA. (The “Billy Ried” to whom Counselman refers was William T. “Bill” Reid Jr.,” who coached Harvard in 1905/1906 and, despite initially resisting changes, would eventually play an important role in reforming college football.)

In the end, Counselman didn’t get the position in Mississippi. Later in 1905, he was hired as physical director at Cumberland University (Lebanon, Tennessee), where he also served as football coach. On October 28, Counselman faced his former boss when Cumberland met Georgia Tech on the playing field. Despite having firsthand knowledge of Heisman’s system and having a hand in developing it, Counselman was no match for his mentor. Georgia Tech came away with an 18-0 win, largely credited to the “double-pass” play, on which Counselman himself had drilled the Georgia Tech players the previous season.

Counselman ended his first season as head coach with a 5-4 record. The following year found him at Howard College (now Samford University) in Birmingham, Alabama, coaching the team to a respectable 6-2-1 record in his first year. The following season, at 3-6, was much less successful, however, and after losing the first two games of the 1908 season, Counselman resigned. It was his last experience as a head coach. Counselman’s career in education continued, however. He remained in Birmingham, heading the Central High School Mathematics Department until 1920. He also had stints as professor of mathematics at the College of William and Mary and superintendent of schools in Tallahassee, Florida.

Counselman could never quite give up participating in the game he loved. Beginning in 1912, his name appears among those officiating games at Auburn. The former fullback continues to be listed as a game official in various directories and game summaries through 1924. John S. Counselman died in 1955.

This isn’t Louis O’Shaughnessy’s first appearance in our blog. More can be found here. And more about the J. S. Counselman Letter (Ms1993-009) may be found here.

Alan Munshower Uncategorized

Connecting Southwest Virginia: Congressman Rick Boucher’s Early Internet Legacy

This is a guest post by Miranda Christy, recent Virginia Tech History MA graduate and former Special Collections and University Archives graduate assistant.

In recent years, COVID-19 has led many Americans to work or attend school virtually from their homes. The pandemic created an education crisis as schools struggled to transition to online learning and many Americans, especially those in rural areas, lacked internet access to support remote education. The medical industry also faced difficulties as high-risk Americans hesitated to risk infection by seeing doctors onsite. This led the federal government to recognize issues like gaps in internet access and increased internet traffic, prompting responses like this from the Federal Communication Commission (FCC). The Rick Boucher Congressional Papers, recently gifted to Special Collections, shows Southwest Virginia’s role in state and federal internet issues since the early 1990s. While conversations about the role of technology in education and healthcare infrastructure, the materials in this collection show that politicians had thought about these questions since the internet became publicly available.

Image of woman of television. Text on screen: Paid by the Boucher for Congress Committee
Screenshot from 1992 campaign ad focused on electronic classrooms.

Rick Boucher served in the U.S. House of Representatives from 1983 to 2011 as the representative for Virginia’s 9th congressional district, a region that covers most of Southwest Virginia, including Blacksburg. Boucher showed a skillfulness in addressing technology issues, serving as chair of the Subcommittee on Communications, Technology and the Internet and the House Internet Caucus. Through his involvement, Boucher helped create policies and legislation that caused the internet to expand outside its limited use through the National Science Foundation into public and commercial uses. Rick Boucher sponsored a congressional bill to expand the NSF’s development of its networks, known as NSFNET, for commercial purposes. After the NSF removed restrictions on its networks, internet service providers came on the scene to offer web access at competitive prices while new web browsers made the internet both more accessible and more secure for business. In the coming years, internet use grew rapidly, and politicians continued thinking about the possibilities this created.

Email from Laura Lee to Rick Boucher
Email conversation regarding broadband service for UVA telemedicine.

Congressman Boucher’s work also led him to consider ways that broader internet access could fill the needs of his rural constituents. Rick Boucher’s television campaign ad in 1992, the same year he introduced a House bill that allowed internet use for commerce, promoted “electronic classrooms” that connected rural schools to classes in “advanced science and math” through fiber optic internet access. Boucher’s interest in electronic classrooms continued into 1994, where an ad opens by telling viewers that “in the global economy, education provides a competitive edge” while the camera pans over a busy Japanese street scene, before transitioning to a broadcasted math lesson in a Virginia classroom. Congressman

Japanese street scene
Screenshot of 1994 campaign ad focused on electronic classrooms.

Boucher’s campaigns in the early 1990s promised Southwest Virginians access to better education through Boucher’s technology-focused leadership. By 1996, 30 schools had functioning electronic classrooms in Southwest Virginia, with ten more in development.

Rick Boucher and group stands next to a television.
Testing telehealth capabilities in Abingdon, 2001.
Four men at a ribbon cutting event.
Wifi launch event in Dickensen County, 2003.

From the late 1990s into the 2000s, telemedicine became another focus of technology development in Southwest Virginia. The region’s rural residents had limited options for medical care. New telehealth services hoped to link rural providers with UVA and other larger medical systems, so Southwest Virginians could seek medical care without long, expensive travel to other parts of the state. While telehealth has become more accessible in recent years, Congressman Boucher wrote about the barriers to rural telemedicine as recently as 2018, especially the lack of rural broadband access and costs for broadband infrastructure. As for Southwest Virginia, federal funds paved the way for internet access across the region. Rick Boucher encouraged these towns to become “electronic villages,” with classes and other community activities connected through the internet. By 1998, Boucher launched twenty-four electronic villages in Southwest Virginia. Some, like Floyd, included freely accessible computers and lessons on internet use.

Rick Boucher and group holding a large check.
Rick Boucher presents check for federal broadband funding in Tazewell County, 2008.

The region’s growing broadband infrastructure, along with the cheap costs to move business into the region, also brought new jobs to the county. Businesses like Travelocity, EchoStar, XM Radio, and AT&T opened call centers in the region. Many businesses were drawn through Boucher’s “Showcasing Southwest Virginia” program, which brought executives to tour the region and consider the benefits of its low operations costs and untapped workforce. This campaign grew from Congressman Boucher’s hope that a robust broadband infrastructure would bring rural Americans into the twenty-first century economy. 

Rick Boucher speaks with woman at computer.
Rick Boucher visits Travelocity office, 2001.

Rural communities like those in Southwest Virginia still struggle to secure reliable broadband access even as the internet has become more central to Americans’ daily lives. Rick Boucher’s internet in Southwest Virginia still hold relevance for current policy decisions, as his recent publications calling for government support of broadband access and telehealth further reveal.  A look back into Congressman Rick Boucher’s career reveals the ways that contemporary discussions around the connectivity divide and the importance of internet use aren’t so different from the conversations Southwest Virginians prioritized in past decades.

All images from the Rick Boucher Papers, 1968-2017, Ms.2021.048.

jojacks2 Uncategorized

Charge It With Charga-Plate!

The O’Shaughnessy Family Papers (Ms1987-052) is one of those manuscript collections that keeps pulling me back for another look. (For those few who had the misfortune to miss my previous post about the collection, you can read it here.) In brief, Louis O’Shaughnessy was a 1903 VPI graduate who returned to his alma mater in 1918 as a professor of applied mechanics and continued to teach here until his retirement in 1954. Professor O’Shaughnessy, his wife Ida Surface O’Shaughnessy, and their daughter Betty lived at what was then 120 Pepper Street, but is today home of the Alpha Phi Chapter of Beta Theta Pi, on Turner Street.

While at first glance the O’Shaughnessys’ papers don’t appear to hold anything of great historical significance, the collection is full of interesting little items that are worthy of exploration and discussion. Among these is an aluminum identification token, somewhat reminiscent of a military dog tag, measuring just 2 ½ x 1 ¼”. The front is embossed “L O Shaughnessy, Blacksburg, Virginia.” On the reverse, the plate holds a card imprinted with “Charga-Plate Associates of Richmond” and a blank line for the holder’s signature.  (The O’Shaughnessys’ card  remains unsigned, indicating that the family never actually used it.) The item is housed in a red leather case, with “Charga-Plate” embossed on one side and “Richmond” on the other.

Charga-Plate and carrying case issued by Charga-Plate Associates of Richmond to the Louis O’Shaughnessy family of Blacksburg.

Largely forgotten today, Charga-Plate was an outgrowth of the time-honored practice by merchants of extending credit to favored customers. While retail credit provided advantages to both seller and buyer, the recording of individual credit transactions presented a cumbersome task for the salesclerk and a time-consuming inconvenience for the customer. Developed by Farrington Manufacturing in 1928, Charga-Plate was an attempt to streamline the process so that salesclerks could forgo writing customers’ names and addresses on every credit sales slip.

Upon charging a purchase, the consumer presented the identification token to the clerk, who placed the plate in a small imprinter (about the size and shape of a stapler), with a charge slip on top of the plate. Downward pressure on the imprinter recorded the customer’s data from the plate onto the charge slip via an inked ribbon. Upon receiving a bill for their purchases, customers could pay the amount in full or maintain a revolving credit account.

In addition to the customer’s name and city of residence, each Charga-Plate contained two additional, unseen pieces of information: the position of the circular notch in the edge of the plate represented the city for which the plate was issued, while the position of the square notch represented a specific store  within that city. A single plate might contain several square notches, if more than one local retailer participated in the Charga-Plate system.

The O’Shaughnessys’ Charga-Plate is accompanied by this timeworn postal card, showing that the plate was issued by Thalhimers department store. The small print in the lower right corner suggests that the card was issued in 1949.

Charga-Plate soon became a common way for larger stores to offer their customers credit. As such, retailers often promoted their use of Charga-Plate in newspaper advertisements, touting the system’s  convenience, accuracy, and security for customers. Use of the credit tags grew throughout the 1930s and 1940s, but the advent and expansion in the 1950s of general-use credit cards, with credit issued by a third party, spelled eventual doom for Charga-Plate, restricted as the credit tags were to local, single-store use.

In the 1950s, Ida Surface O’Shaughnessy made frequent use of Charga-Plate at Heironimus, a Roanoke department store, as evidenced by the many Heironimus credit sale slips within the collection that bear her inked name and address.

As is the case with many superseded workaday conveniences, the demise of Charga-Plate went unheralded. And so despite the Charga-Plate era being not so far removed from our own, I couldn’t pinpoint the year of the system’s final abandonment. While several sources indicate that the system reached its end around 1960, newspaper advertisements show that Charga-Plate remained in use, albeit in scattered pockets, well into the 1970s. Miller & Rhoads of Roanoke, for example, continued to offer Charga-Plate to its customers as late as 1974, even as the department store extended credit through BankAmericard and Master Charge (now Mastercard). In Mt. Pocono, Pennsylvania, newspaper advertisements for both Oppenheim’s clothing store and Hess’s department store touted their use of the system as late as 1977, while an advertisement in the Daily American Republic of Poplar Bluff, Missouri, hints that at least one St. Louis store continued to use Charga-Plate as late as 1981.

By that time, of course, the use of plastic, bank-issued credit cards had become increasingly commonplace and soon would become ubiquitous. Today, the plastic credit card is, in turn, giving way to systems that no longer require the customer to use any physical artifact to make a credit purchase. Charga-Plate, and other systems like it, represented a significant step from the burdensome task of recording credit transactions by hand to the instant, automated systems that we have today.

For more on the O’Shaughnessy Family Papers, see the collection’s finding aid.

 

jojacks2 Uncategorized

Saving Professor Woodruff (from Obscurity)

It’s said that in archaeology, context is everything. The physical relationship of found items allows researchers to accurately identify the time and place of their origin, thus providing a more comprehensive picture of the past, one that goes beyond a mere description of the item at hand. Much the same can be said about archival records. If context isn’t everything when looking at a particular document, it’s certainly a big chunk of everything. Let’s consider the Marion Eaton Woodruff Diary (Ms1988-118), which until recently had lingered in a state of anonymous semi-obscurity for several decades. The diary provides a good example of how just a little detective work can immeasurably increase the research value of an item.

The Woodruff Diary was purchased by Special Collections and University Archives in 1988. The rare book dealer who sold the small, thick volume had assigned the diary a short, workaday title (“Diary, 1924-27”) and provided the briefest of descriptions, noting that the item “[i]ncludes entries in 1924 about [a] trip to France and Italy (year long trip)” and concluding that the diary had been kept “by an American woman?, possibly from Boston.” Upon its accession by Special Collections and University Archives, the diary came to be known simply as “The Travel Diary.”

Pages from the Marion Eaton Woodruff Diary

When the author of a diary isn’t explicitly identified, the contents can sometimes provide clues that will eventually yield the writer’s name and offer us that all-important context. Any place names or personal names—the more unusual, the better—mentioned within a diary’s entries are potential clues to the writer’s identity. The volume at hand, bearing the title “A Diary of Days” and manufactured by Jordan & Company of Chicago, provides its owner with a format designed for four years’ worth of entries. Because the years aren’t pre-printed on the pages, and because the diary entries were often recorded out of chronological order, it can be difficult to follow the sequence of events, but the diary seems to commence with September 5, 1923, with the writer having just left Elgin for Chicago, bound for New York. The writer also mentions Wilda. So, right away, we have two clues: the writer likely lived in Elgin and is acquainted with somebody named Wilda. With a Google search revealing that there are 22 communities named Elgin in the United States and with no surname provided for Wilda, the clues may seem of little value, but still we can file them away for future reference.

Through the next year, the diary’s entries detail the experiences of the unknown writer during a lengthy tour of Europe, with long stays in France, Italy, and Switzerland, before a return to Elgin the following August. During the European tour, the writer names restaurants, shows, and historical sites visited. Returning home, the writer describes a busy life of social engagements and entertainments (e.g., attending the play Boris Gudunov and seeing a vaudeville performance by Sophie Tucker). In all, the diary chronicles the social life of an unidentified upper-middle class woman living a century ago. As interesting as this may be, the contents would be so much more valuable if associated with a specific name.

The diarist makes frequent mention of “Helen” while traveling in Europe and elsewhere. In 1925, the two traveled eastward so that Helen could lecture at Wellesley College. And it’s here that the identity of the writer finally comes to light. Fortunately for us, the Wellesley College News has been digitized and is available in the Wellesley College Digital Repository . An online search on the name “Helen” within the newspaper’s contents isn’t likely to reveal much—or, more correctly, is likely to reveal too much, with too many extraneous, irrelevant hits—so we search on “Elgin,” expecting that if a visiting scholar were delivering a set of lectures on campus, her place of residence may be mentioned in any articles about her. And so it is: in the October 1, 1925 issue of The Wellesley News, under the title “Art Department Note,” we learn that Helen Woodruff of Elgin, Illinois, had been hired as a substitute instructor in the college’s art department. With that little piece of information, everything else begins to fall into place. Through quick searches of census and other vital records, we learn that Helen was the daughter of Marion Eaton Woodruff (1899-1939), widow of successful iron foundry owner Charles H. Woodruff. By now checking known information about Marion Eaton Woodruff against clues found elsewhere in the diary, we can establish beyond doubt that Marion Woodruff was the diary’s author.

Helen Marion Woodruff—from the Wellesley College Legenda, 1922 (Wellelsey College Digital Repository)

Helen (1899-1980), the Woodruffs’ youngest daughter, graduated from Wellesley College in 1922. Upon obtaining her master’s degree from Radcliffe College the following year, Woodruff (accompanied by her mother) departed for a yearlong study in Europe, through a fellowship in medieval and renaissance archaeology awarded by the Archaeological Institute of America (AIA). Returning to Elgin in 1924, she worked as an instructor at the local junior college and as curator of the Sears Museum. (Entries in the diary reveal that during this time, Woodruff was briefly married to Daniel Crane Taylor, a 1919 graduate of the University of Chicago who later became an English professor and published works on William Congreve and John Stoddard. The marriage isn’t documented in any published sources.)

After teaching at Wellesley for a year, Helen Woodruff returned to Radcliffe, where she obtained her doctoral degree in 1928. By 1930, Woodruff was employed by Princeton University as an archaeologist. That same year, her dissertation was published as a monograph by Harvard University under the title The Illustrated Manuscripts of Prudentius. In 1933, Woodruf became director of Princeton’s Index of Christian Art, and in 1942, she published the Index of Christian Art at Princeton University: a Handbook. The standards that Woodruff established in the handbook are said to have revolutionized the process of iconographic classification and to have guided the format of the indexing project for decades to come. That same year, Woodruff took a leave of absence to join the U. S. Navy WAVES [Women Accepted for Volunteer Emergency Service], eventually rising to the rank of lieutenant commander. She was discharged from the WAVES in 1945. Woodruff seems to have retired early: the 1950 federal census shows her still living in Princeton, and—despite being without a recorded occupation—being of sufficient means to afford an older, live-in housekeeper. Mentions of her in Princeton University’s newspaper indicate that, following retirement, she busied herself with club work and other civic activities. Helen Marion Woodruff died in New York in 1980. Apart from her professional accomplishments, a bequest secures her legacy through funding of the Helen M. Woodruff Fellowship of the AIA and the American Academy in Rome.

Though it was written by Marion Woodruff and chronicles the life of an upper-middle class woman in the Midwest and her travels abroad, the frequent mentions of Helen Woodruff provide insights into the life of a professional woman and her work in higher education, art history, and archaeology during the early 20th century. And that’s something worth a little digging.