Tuesday, June 7, 2011

Encountering History: The Pleasure of Meeting Gita Vygodskaya

Gita Vygodskaya and
Natalia Gajdamaschko in Dundee
I met Gita Vygodskaya in 1995 in Dundee, Scotland through my friend Natalia Gajdamaschko.  From Natalia, I knew that she was the daughter of a major Russian psychologist, Lev Vygotsky, who had died in 1934, but whose cultural-historical theory of psychology was increasingly influential in Western universities. It was remarkable that his work - completed from 1924 to 1934 and banned by the Soviet Union soon after his death -- was thriving more than fifty years after it was completed.

Natalia, a Vygotskian, had studied neuropsychology at the school created by Alexander Luria -- one of Vygotsky’s closest colleagues -- located at Moscow State University. She had come to Dundee for a conference and was excited to meet Gita. They became good friends and met many times during the following fifteen years.

 I was a bystander in Scotland for a vacation, but I had a rental car and Natalia enlisted me to drive her, her son Dennis, Gita, and a couple other folks to see some of the area. We went to nearby St. Andrews for a visit. It was a delight to find that Gita was a warm, engaging person who had formed a nice bond with Natalia and Dennis. We spent a pleasant day seeing the sites of this historic city.

I spent some more time with Gita and her daughter, Elena Kravtsova, in 1997 when they came to Athens, Georgia as distinguished lecturers at the University of Georgia. By that time, I had learned more about Vygotsky’s life and about Gita.  For example, I knew that, though it was very dangerous, her mother had kept over 200 of Vygotsky’s manuscripts in their small apartment after his death. When her mother died, Gita took over stewardship of the writings and kept them safe during the war years and the difficult years that followed. Maintaining this trove of papers could have had dire consequences for Gita and her family had they been caught with them.

Despite official ostracism as the daughter of a scientist who was banned by the state, Gita succeeded in getting an education at the USSR’s best university, Moscow State University. She followed her father’s footstep in becoming a psychologist working with children and people with disabilities. (Her daughter, Elena Kravtsova, also is a psychologist, as are her grandsons Lev and Oleg; another grandson, Alesha, is a musician. All are, as you might imagine, Vygotskians.)

Gita and daughter Elena Kravtsova at their home near Moscow
Gita received her master's degree in psychology in 1951, and after teaching psychology in high school for five years, returned to Moscow State University to earn her Ph.D-equivalent (kandidat nauk) degree in 1959. She worked for many years as a researcher at the Institute for Defectology of the Academy of Education. (This information is from a short bio of Gita in http://www.bgcenter.com/vygotskyProject.htm .  The site belongs to psychologist Boris Gingis, who also was in Dundee in 1995 and was a friend of Gita.)

Restrictions on publishing and reading Vygotsky’s work lessened in the 1950s after the death of Stalin. A collection of Vygotsky's papers was published there in 1956, reflecting an easing of the Communist Party's negative view of Vygotsky's theories. This book was translated into English and published in the United States with the title, Mind and Society, introducing the full scope of Vygotsky's work to the West for the first time.

The revival of Vygotsky's theories was accelerated in the 1980s when several of his former students, with Gita's help, prepared a six-volume collection of his work, published between 1983 and 1987. Included in this volume were many unpublished manuscripts that survived because Gita, her mother, and her sister had made sacrifices necessary to preserve them.

While assisting with the publication of her father’s collected work in the 1980s, Gita also carried out her own research on his life and contributions. Her book, Lev Semenovich Vygotsky. Life. Work. Brush Strokes of the Portrait was published in 1996 in Russian.  Parts of it have been translated into English and published in the Journal of Russian and East European Psychology.

With the liberalization, and then, the end of the Soviet Union, Gita began to receive invitations from throughout the world to take part in conferences that were devoted, at least in part, to her father's psychological theories. Also, the Vygotsky Institute for Psychology was created at the Russian State University for the Humanities in Moscow by Elena Kravtsova, who still heads it, and the Institute began to hold annual meetings on Vygotskian psychology in Moscow. The meetings are attended by scholars from throughout the world. Gita was usually a star attraction at these meetings.

In her 1997 lecture at the University of Georgia, Gita talked mostly of the intellectual and personal history of her father. She was only 9 when he died in 1934 at the age of 37. Nevertheless, her memories of him were vivid, warm, and loving -- and often humorous.


She recalled her father’s vibrant intellect and devotion to science, and how she and her sister were sometimes the subjects of his experiments and observation. For example, they were enticed to traverse mazes, with an orange as their reward for successfully completing it.  At other times, their father just talked to them to get their reactions to certain situations -- to see how they, as children, thought about different puzzles and problems. 


Gita Lvovna Vygodskaya about her father, Lev Vygotsky from Natalia Gajdamaschko on Vimeo.

Gita also talked about the lively intellectual life at the Vygotsky apartment, one big room, that served as both home and office. She recalled frequent meetings there of Vygotsky's students and distinguished colleagues, such as neuropsychologist Alexander Luria and Alexi Leont’ev, who became famous names in the discipline.

The most vivid part of her talk at UGA was about her personal recollections of her conversations with her father. These vignettes humanized him and grounded his work. She told a touching story of how, when she entered the first grade, her father had cleared the left corner of his desk for her to use to do her school work.  

While the UGA lecture was helpful in understanding more about Lev Vygotsky, it also increased my curiosity about Gita’s life. What was it like growing up the daughter of Vygotsky in the late 30s and 40s. What did she see and hear as a child during the frightening years of the Great Terror. How did she live as a teenager during the terrible war years? How were she and her family treated by former friends and colleagues of her father after his writings were banned. What threat did they feel from the government, how did they cope with their fears? What was her view of Stalin and his successors? How did she get into Moscow State University? These and other questions arose as I heard her speak.     

Unfortunately, she did not talk too much about herself and what happened after her father died. She did note that she had loaned some of Vygotsky’s writings, at some danger, to friends during the time his work was banned. Also, she spoke of the fifties as a time when it still was not safe to say the name of her father.  

I hope that a biography of Gita will someday be published to provide a fuller picture of her life and the context within which it was lived.

Gita’s 1997 visit to Georgia was another enjoyable encounter with history and an opportunity to learn more about her father. Natalia and I had a reception for Gita and Elena at my house, and they volunteered to help cook some of the Russian dishes that were served.  They were a pleasure to have as guests.  It was clear that Gita, a most pleasant and down-to-earth person, was enjoying her chance to see a new part of the world.

I had opportunities to see her and Leona again in Moscow; once, Natalia and I were invited for a dinner at their sprawling Moscow apartment (they later moved to another place on the outskirts of the city). The last time I saw her was at a Vygotsky Institute of Psychology conference in Moscow. She was then, as always, friendly, kind, and thoughtful.

 Natalia visited Gita and Elena periodically in Moscow and maintained contact with both by telephone. She was distressed to hear from Elena of Gita's worsening health through the 2000’s. Gita’s family, her many friends, and others, like me, who knew and admired her from a distance, were saddened when Gita died in July 13, 2010. She was 85.

I remember Gita as a person of dignity and warmth, who showed deep interest in others. I am also sure that she had great inner strength, tempered by the hard times in which she lived most her life, and had tremendous courage, evidenced by her success in protecting the legacy of her father. Without her, so much of his work could have been lost and so much of his life remained unknown. She was a good, loving daughter who helped to reveal the genius of her father to the world while living her own productive and interesting life.  
Natalia, Gita, and Elena

Monday, June 6, 2011

Arkansas Young Republicans in the late 1960s and Early 1970s

O.K., I admit it. I was an active Young Republican from 1964 to 1971. I volunteered for Goldwater and had his bumper stickers plastered on my notebooks. I went around saying, "In your heart, you know he's right" to everyone who would listen. I knocked on doors in south Fayetteville for Winthrop Rockefeller ("Young man, I'm gonna vote for that there Orval Forebush"). I handed out bumper stickers at Razorback football games for John Paul Hammerschmidt ("kid, with a name like that, he ain't got a chance") and at the Washington County Fair for WR. ("Sorry sir, I didn't mean to steal the Faubus sticker off your truck, please don't call the police.")

Even more, I got on buses that went from city to town in NW Arkansas to hand out literature for WR and Footsie and, later, Sterling. I was a page at the 1968 Republican National Convention and started the Campus Action for Nixon (Nixon CAN!) at the UA in 1968. I was elected state treasurer of the Young Republicans and could have been state president. I even won an award as the "Outstanding Young Republican" (college division) in 1969.  OK. I. Admit. It.

Because this blog is not about politics, I will not explain why it made sense then, but pains me now to recall I was a Young Republican. Just to remind that times were different then, I will quote this paragraph from a newspaper article that I wrote in 1975 on the history of the Arkansas Young Republicans:
During the 1970 [Young Republican] convention, while the leaders were at each others' throats, the delegates, dominated by college-age kids, passed a platform which shocked the senior party. It called for decriminalization of marijuana, liberalized abortion, legalized gambling, removal of all censorship laws, and repeal of laws relating to sexual activities between consenting adults. The Young Republicans had taken on a libertarian face, and not everyone was happy about it. 
I was one of the "college-age kids" that helped get this platform passed. A few weeks later, we were all, in effect, kicked out of the Young Republicans and the people with more traditional views took control.  Just a few years later, WR died and the special nature of the Republican Party in Arkansas ended.

But what the heck, who am I kidding, it was all great fun while it lasted. Invigorating "Youth Days" at WR's Petit Jean farm (Bob Hope was there once). Telegrams from WR thanking me for this and that. Invitations to the inaugurations. A free week in Miami to attend the Republican National Convention (driving WR through Miami in a brand new Cadillac; front row seat at the Fontainebleu floor show courtesy of WR's credit card; staying at Joe Garagiola's hotel and meeting him).

Attending a Republican Governor's Conference in Hot Springs, meeting VP Agnew, Gov. Reagan, and a host of other Republican governors. Flown from Fayetteville on a private airplane to East Arkansas for a supper with Charles Bernard, who was thinking about running for some office. Bussed to Fort Smith to hear Speaker of the House Gerald Ford one year, Nixon-in-exile the next.  Exciting times for a college kid.

And the annual Young Republican conventions were a charge of adrenalin.  We were all so serious trying to get elected to this office or that one; trying to get our resolutions passed; trying to stop the Harding College YRs from passing their nutty resolutions.  Late nights bargaining, cajoling, arguing. Running from room to room to meet with delegations from different colleges and counties. Quiet midnight deals that might unwind as the deal makers met with others and made other deals. Early morning get-togethers for final desperate efforts to win over that person or that delegation needed to win the office or pass the resolution. Friends, allies, enemies, opponents: changing by the hour. Tense votes; jubilation or despair. All compressed into a couple of days. Yelp, lots of fun and pretty much meaningless.

Anyway, I was reminded of all the pleasures of YR benefits and the passion of playing Young Republican politics during the Rockefeller years when I re-read an article that I wrote in 1975 for the Arkansas Advocate, an independent monthly newspaper published in Little Rock during much of the 1970s. The article's title was "The Political Bush Leagues: The Young Republicans." I wrote it a few years after I left the YRs, and exited electoral politics all together, to do other stuff required to make a living. Reading the 1975 article brought back names and memories of feuds long forgotten.

You can find this article on scribd by hitting this link:

http://www.scribd.com/doc/57171068/The-Political-Bush-Leagues-The-Young-Republicans

Sometimes it helps to have a good sense of the absurd when you revisit your past. Then you can enjoy the  follies as well as the triumphs.

Friday, June 3, 2011

Birch Bay Living - June 3, 2011

ECLECTIC (AT BEST) NEWS FROM BIRCH BAY, WA

MEMORIAL DAY WEEKEND
After two reasonably nice weekend days over the holiday, including some afternoon sun, BB emptied on Monday as cold and rainy weather returned.  The weekend crowds were large, producing Manhattan-like traffic and revelry, but on Monday the Dorf returned to its winter status of calm and eerie quiet. 
It was a chilly weekend, even with some dollops of sun, and the poor folks coming from the South in their shorts and tee-shirts crowded the C Shop to keep warm and eat some additive chocolate.  Folks who fired up their BBQ machines crowded around them to keep warm.
This week: No Sunset Like this in Birch Bay 

SUNSET-LESS IN BIRCH BAY
Birch Bay, famous for fabulous sunsets, did not have a photo-worthy sunset this week.  Skies were overcast and gray. The sun was hidden.


CONDO ASSOCIATION MEETINGS
I am sure that some condominium associations in BB had their annual meetings during the holiday weekend.  We had ours and little blood was shed.  Only a few feeble punches were thrown, and most hit above the belt.  We all lived to fight another day.  Hope your meeting was as successful.

BIRCH BAY IS NOT FOR SISSIES
I am reminded of the brutal violence that surrounds us every day in BB when I see the eagles swooping and the hawks perched for action.  Have you ever seen an eagle take away a baby sea gull?  Me neither, but they do.  Last year, two of three baby seagulls being raised on the roof of condos across the street disappeared over a couple of days.  I can image what happened and that is probably just as bad as seeing it.  Yikes!

WHAT'S UP WITH MARINER'S COVE?
The nice sidewalk in front of Mariner's Cove has been totally removed for the length of the complex and sod is being up down.  I guess that is an invitation for other folks to go walk in the street.  Or maybe the association just had lots of excess money they needed to spend.  My worst nightmare: be a member of a large condo association.
Mariners Cove Rips Out Sidewalks

WHAT'S WITH THE STRAWBERRIES?
The newspapers report that strawberries are at least two weeks late due to the lack of sunshine in May.  My report is that the pale-green berries are refusing to budge until they get some solar cooperation.  Reports say that angel food cake futures are down 22 percent.

COSTCO THE CROWDED
The Bellingham Costco gets more crowded every week as our Canadian friends flock south for cheap goodies.  Since Bellingham will not let Costco expand their store in the city, I modestly suggest they build a new one at the I-5 and Grandview intersections. It will be more convenient for the Canadian sales-tax payers and still the closest one to Bellingham.

By the way, how do Canadians who fill up their gas tanks and ten huge gasoline containers at Costco get across the border without paying duties? 

And, what do Indian-Canadians do with all the basket loads of milk they buy?  I'm sure it is put to good use, but I can't figure it out.

VISIT OF THE RV BLOGGER
The Ramblin' Man, an RV blogger, made his way to Birch Bay on Wednesday. I hope he and his co-pilot enjoy their stay here. I hear it will be a nice week-end. http://blog.seattlepi.com/ramblinman/2011/06/02/birch-bay-washington/

Thursday, June 2, 2011

August's Juicy Roast: Pioneer Tales of Arkansas' German Immigrants:

Pioneer Tales, Arkansas Echo
December 1, 1893
A JUICY ROAST--OR--WHO WANTS TO EAT WITH ME?

In the following, I want to tell a story that, I admit, did not happen to me, but did happen to a neighbor of mine who I will call "August." I say this because otherwise it could well appear as if I want to claim for myself all of the beautiful boners that a pulled by a greenhorn.

Advertisement for a German-Language
Magazine

Tuesday, May 31, 2011

Old Georgian Script on a Church in the Caucasus Mountains

Old Georgian Orthodox Church
Although Georgia is a small country, it has its own unique language and script (alphabet) that are unrelated to the major alphabets/scripts now in use (e.g., Latin, Cyrillic, Persian, Hindu, and a handful of others). The alphabet, likely originally influenced by Greek script, has evolved from its origins in the 4th century -- some say it was created much earlier -- to its present day form.
Old Georgian Script on Ancient Church

Probably about five to six million people speak Georgian, including most of the four million or so who live in the country.

The picture to the left and below show an early version of Georgian script that was chiseled onto the exterior wall of the old Georgian Orthodox church pictured above, located on Military Road, not too far from the border with Russia. The church is in the Caucasus Mountains, overlooking a large lake, a peaceful and beautiful setting.

This Georgian Orthodox church building is no longer in use, and is in a state of disrepair.  It was constructed out of locally made brick and at one time was likely quite impressive inside.  Some remaining rements of frescoes on the inside cupola are still visible, but have graffiti (in Russian) written on them. (See the last picture.)

A visit to this area, about 60 miles from Tbilisi, gives a small taste of the interesting elements of isolated Georgia settlements scattered throughout the Caucasus mountains, each with their old  fortifications that no longer serve a purpose and stone churches. The living conditions in the mountains are sometimes harsh and difficult, a throwback to another time. In return, residents have the self-sufficiency and distance from the troubled world that have always attracted mountain people.
More Old Georgian Script





Graffiti on Fresco in the Church

(Photos by Dan Durning)

Merry Mat Loses His Clothes: Pioneer Tales of Arkansas' German Immigrants

MERRY MÄT, OR A TRIP TO THE BATHS
Pioneer Tales, Arkansas Echo, November 10, 1893
Part 2

[The first part of this story told of Mät's decision to leave Arkansas to move to the Washington territory and his disappointment upon arriving there.  The second part is a vignette about how poor Mät and his friend Joe lost all of their clothes and had to travel naked to get to their homes.]

Now I would like to relate, as well as possible, an amusing story that happened to Mät.

In our first days here, the settlers naturally did not have as much clear land as they could have used. Most of the land had to be cleared and prepared for cultivation. Therefore, many settlers rented cleared land for themselves somewhere, either for money or for a specific share of the crop. That is what Mät did also. 
White River by Batesville from Arkansas Echo, 1893

One year he leased, with his neighbor Joe, a piece of bottomland about 4 miles from their houses. When they wanted to get to this bottomland, they had to cross over a creek. The creek was usually not too bad or deep. However, after a hard rain, it could become wild and inhospitable.

Joe did not have an animal for transportation, but Mät had bought an old mule, Rosi was her name, and the two prepared a plough together. Now, Rosi was a very tame and stopped when ordered. 

One day as they were again working on the land, a terrible storm suddenly approached and quickly they quit their work and retreated to their small hut which they had thrown up as a precaution. It rained so hard that it poured. As they consumed their lunch, it began to rain harder, so much that poor Rosi had to also be brought into the hut. And it wasn't about to stop.

Mät didn't worry too much about it, but to Joe things weren't right, especially as it grew increasingly darker and there was little possibility of returning home. "Console yourself," Mät said, "we are sitting here comfortably in a dry place. Beautiful weather will return by early tomorrow morning and then you will soon be home again."

"Yes, but what about the creek," sighs Joe.

"So what, the creek?" says Mät. "We will drive Rosi into it and we swim behind her , if there is no other way."

"Sure," answers Joe, "you can swim. But me?"

"That doesn't make any difference," says Mät. "I will put you under my arm and take you across to the other side. Now let's sleep a couple of hours and then we will see what is to be done."

Soon Mät was sleeping the sleep of the just. But Joe couldn't keep his eyes closed the entire night.

The next morning, the rain still didn't want to stop until around 10:00 o'clock when things started to clear up and the sun began to shine again as beautiful as if nothing had happened. The two took off for home since they were badly tormented by hunger. Soon, they were at the creek,

What a scary sight! It was overflowing and the foot log was gone. Joe started moaning again. "Ach was," says Mät, "get out of your clothes fast."

After a few sighs, Joe does just that. Then Mät binds their clothes, puts them in the saddle on Rosi, and drives her into the creek. Soon the loyal animal is on the other side, looks around once, and trots merrily away despite the "Oh, oh!" that Mät calls loudly after her.

"Everything will be o.k.," maintains Mät, "if we can get quickly over to the other side." Then he takes the straps from the plow and ties one end around his body and ties Joe to the other end. Thud, he jumps into the water and Joe, like it or not, must follow. As I have already said, Mät was a good swimmer and without too much, effort, he soon had swam across. Joe had quickly lost his breath and it took him awhile to recover his wits.

There was no trace of the disloyal Rosi. "Well, well, " said Mät, "We are in quite a fix. If only we were in our clothes by the sides of our mothers!"

Unfortunately, they had to march at least a whole mile through cleared bottom land with not even shrubs or trees, only a small woods at the end of the bottom land. Therefore, it was most important to reach this protective woods and thereby escape the damned heat.

Now I must temporarily interrupt my story and see how things in the meanwhile have been going at home. There, Barb, Mät's wife, had thought nothing about Mät not coming home that evening. That was really nothing extraordinary for him. But it was different with Marie, Joe's wife. She couldn't go to sleep the whole night.

As it approached noon the next day, and Joe still had not come home, she was overcome with fear and ran over to see Barb. Since she also still had not seen or heard anything of them, Marie began to sob and was sure that something had happened. Barb comforted her as well as she could. Then suddenly, neighing is heard, and Rosi stands at the door of the stall and bellows. "Thank God," says Marie. "There they are!" And she rushes outside. "Oh Heavens, what is that? Rosi alone and a bundle of clothes in the saddle." She lets go a wretched cry, a shriek, such that Barb, very shocked, springs outside. The way things appear there, she also loses her self-control. 

 "Man of my life!" she also screams. "What has happened to poor Mät? He has certainly been killed in the creek. Oh God! Oh God! Dear, poor Mät. I will not be able to find such a good man again for a long time." And the two produce such a concert that even a rock would have felt pity.

"Now," says Barb, "quickly to the creek, we must see how it came about."  And as fast as they can, they make their way toward the creek.

Now let us return quickly to our two heroes. The two have moved boldly onward and have almost reached the protective wood. Oh no, trouble. They suddenly see a man and a women ahead coming toward them. Fortunately, it appears the couple has not seen the two. Quickly, they throw themselves onto the ground and crawl on all fours to the nearby cotton field which is just tall enough that a person can, if need be, hide in it. They wait for the couple to pass by.

More trouble! The couple reach the vicinity, and they can hear everything the couple says to each other. "Dear," says the woman, "I definitely believe that I saw a couple of calves in front of us. Certainly I must have made a mistake." And they began diligently chopping cotton.

In the meanwhile, Mät and Joe lay there in the cotton, in the burning, hot son, and sweated; in the truest meaning of the word, misery. That couldn't be endured for long and Mät soon said, "Damn and blast it! This is pure agony, and if the couple do not soon move on, then we will break free, come what may. One side of me is already burned to a crisp."

Very fortunately, the couple was soon finished -- it was still too damp -- and they returned home. As soon as they had disappeared from eyesight, the two were on their feet and had soon vanished into the woods. "So," said Mät, relieved, "Now we have survived the worst. We can hide in the woods during the trip, if need be." And courageously they moved onward without meeting anyone ahead.

Now they must go around a sharp curve and cannot see far ahead on the road. Then, as they are just about around the curve, they suddenly are facing a couple of women who are terrified by the strange sight and want to shriek and flee.

Mät had immediately seen who they were, and he shouted passionately, "Barb, Barb!" Then she quickly recognized him. And with a "Thank God!" she took Mät into her arms. Marie did exactly the same with Joe.

"Let's go home fast," said Mät. "This is a terrible place to chat and hug each other." And after they had put on the petticoats of Barb and Marie, they took off quickly for home and made it without further encounters.

Mät happily had a good drink in the house and then crawled into bed, and after he ate like a wolf and had slept his fill, he was again alright.

Joe had picked up a common cold and felt the horror and worry in his limbs for a long time.

If that had only been the end of it! "Keep your mouth shut!" It wasn't three days until the whole county knew about it, and what annoyed Mät the most was that he had to put up with a lot of kidding.  And that confounded old nag was responsible for all of this.


(Translated by Dan Durning, all rights reserved) 

Sunday, May 29, 2011

R.D. Rucker: A Nice BAD Guy at the University of Arkansas, and Much More

R.D. (arm raised), Nov. 1969
R.D. Rucker was a leader of BAD, the Black Americans for Democracy, a student group at the University of Arkansas in the late ‘60 and early ‘70s.  This group was formed in the late 1960s to promote the interest of African-American students on the University of Arkansas campus. While the University had been integrated for several years, the number of black students on campus was still quite small, and grievances had accumulated.

Those years were a time of activism on most campuses, the University of Arkansas included. With the Vietnam War, the assassinations of Robert Kennedy and Martin Luther King, and urban violence, increasing numbers of students were motivated to try to bring about change.  

R.D. was one of those students. When recalling the 1969-70 Dixie controversy at the University of Arkansas (see the previous post), R.D. quickly came to mind.  BAD played the key role in the anti-Dixie effort, and R.D. was among the most active in its effort to stop the band from playing Dixie.

A young African-American, who some people think was brilliant, R.D. was a small guy with an easy manner. He also had an outsized assertiveness that made him stand out in public meetings. Friendly with a disarming smile and great energy, R.D. was one of BAD’s most aggressively visible advocates.  He sometimes used radical rhetoric that would surprise those of us who otherwise enjoyed his company.  
Speaking to Students

Among his other activities, R.D. ran for Student Association secretary in spring 1970, mainly to have a forum to speak his views to fellow students. Predictably, he did not win the election. However, he did have a chance to talk to groups of students throughout the campus.

Dr. Gordon Morgan, University of Arkansas faculty member, was clearly impressed by R.D.  Morgan, a sociologist, wrote about the racial situation at UA in the 60s and 70s. In his book, The Edge of Campus: A Journal of Black Experience at the University of Arkansas (University of Arkansas Press, 1990), Morgan had a section called, “The Legend of R.D. Rucker.”  He wrote:

Rucker was a honey-colored kid with frizzy sandy hair.  He had a slight build and was about 5’ 7” tall.  His winning smile, disarming manners and obvious intelligence took most people by storm.

The “legend” begins with this story:

Nobody knows much about the background of this young black man who came to Fayetteville in about 1968.  He didn’t know anything about the University of Arkansas when he came.  He said he was hitching a ride somewhere, anywhere, and the chicken truck he got a ride on stopped at Fayetteville.  Having no bags or personal belongings, he got off and found his way to the campus.  After wandering around for a few days, he decided to enroll...

This account of R.D.’s arrival does not square with the story told by George McGill (owner of the McGill Insurance Agency in Forth Smith) as part of his University of Arkansas-Ft. Smith commencement address on December 18, 2008. He said in his speech:
[When McGill went to Fayetteville to enroll in college, he] gave a ride to fellow freshman R.D. Rucker, who showed pride as he held an acceptance letter to the university. McGill saw the student struggle to make it, having only two changes of clothing and riding a bicycle through rain, sleet and snow for three years. McGill said Rucker went on to earn a Ph.D. in philosophy and a law degree, becoming a writer, professor and assistant attorney general for the state of Texas. He said he shared Rucker’s story because he wanted the UA Fort Smith graduates to hold their diplomas with the same pride that Rucker had held his acceptance letter that day.
Both McGill and Morgan agreed that Rucker was poor.  According to Morgan:
During the three years Rucker was at the University, he claims he never had an address. He said he lived in a drainpipe for some time and sorority girls allowed him to sleep in their attics during very bad weather... (p. 177)
It is not known how Rucker survived financially. He never had enough to pay his bills and he frowned upon taking financial aid on grounds that it placed one in financial and psychological debt to the capitalists. (p. 177)
Also, both McGill and Morgan believed that Rucker was very intelligent.  Wrote Morgan:

What Rucker majored in is uncertain.  He studied anything he had a mind to, often showing up in science and mathematics classes to challenge  instructors in their own fields.  He didn’t have to be enrolled in a class to issue a challenge. He could cause a young instructor to turn gray with his penetrating questions and unarguable logic.  Mature teachers frequently turned over their lecterns to Rucker until the hour was finished. (p. 177)
Finally, Morgan summed up the Rucker legend like this:
The campus loved and feared R.D. Rucker, and he feared no one. He often  challenged the opinions of the highest ranking officials at the University. He would talk coldly about blowing up the Pentagon or Old Main as calmly as one might discuss the Pythagorean theorem. No public meeting was safe from disruption, for he would challenge any speaker on any point, regardless of the speaker’s status. (p. 178)
For all the remarks against the militant R.D. Rucker, no one who knew him ever accused him of being impolite. He was always gracious and generous.  His insights were always food for thought. (p. 178)
I don’t know how much of this legend is true. The part about accidentally finding himself on the UA campus most likely is not. While some of it squares with what I remember about R.D., other elements seem implausible. For example, a picture in the 1970 Razorback Yearbook shows that R.D. lived at least for a while in Hotz Hall. And, though he may have been “anti-capitalist,” a picture in the 1969 Razorback Yearbook showed that he was a member of the UA Young Republicans (YR) that year. (Of course, a YR membership then had a wholly different meaning than being a YR today. In 1969, the Republicans in Arkansas were the party of racial moderation and political change. In 1966, the Democratic candidate for governor had been Jim Johnson, a long-time segregationist. In 1968, his wife had come in second in the Democratic gubernatorial primary. It is not surprising that a politically active African-American would be attracted to the party more inclined to espouse equal rights.)

Likely the stories about his financial difficulties are partially factual. He was the tenth child of Kirk and Demora Rucker, born in Swifton, Arkansas. His parents were not rich, and thus likely lacked the resources to pay for all of his college studies. (Family information is from the Newport Independent, February 13, 2004, "Black History Month Tribute to R.D. Rucker: a man who made a difference", available for purchase through the newspaper archive). However, his obituary (see below) stated that he received a scholarship to attend the University of Arkansas.

Thinking back about R.D. and his legend, I decided to try to find out what had happened to him after he finished his three years at UA and left with a B.A. in history in the early 70s?

I found no information about his life for a few years after he left UA, but according to internet sources, he studied history at Columbia University from 1976 to 1978, then did post-graduate study in Moscow with an IREX fellowship. Based on his research at Columbia and in Moscow, he wrote an article that was published in the Journal of East European Thought (vol. 19, no. 3, 1979) titled "Abram Moiseevic Deborin: Weltanschauung and role in the development of Soviet philosophy." 

After he returned, he was a student at the University of Iowa, earning a Ph.D. in history in 1981. His dissertation was titled, The Making of the Russian Revolution: Revolutionaries, Workers and the Marxian Theory of Revolution.  

Following that, he studied law at the University of Texas, getting his law degree in 1985. With that degree, R.D. first worked as an assistant attorney general for a brief time, then was assistant district attorney in Waco and, afterward, a public defender in Wichita Falls. He moved to Dallas in 1988 and was a defense attorney there until his death. In the 1990s, he was three times an unsuccessful candidate for different judicial posts in Dallas and lost all three races.

R.D. self-published six books, which are still available through Amazon.  They are:

Abraham Lincoln’s Social and Political Thought,

Drugs, Drug Addiction, and Drug Dealing: The Origin and Nature of, and the Solution To, the American Drug Problem,

Eros and the Sexual Revolution,

Jesus Christ and the Origin of Christianity,

Marriage, Love, and the Family: An Investigation into the Role of the Black Woman in the African-American Family, and

Sweet Land of Liberty: A Poetical Journey Through America, 1996- 1998.


The fact that these books were self-published indicates that he or they likely were outside the mainstream of academic discourse. In the context of his 1998 candidacy for a judgeship in Dallas, the Dallas Observer savaged Rucker and his books, ridiculing his theories about the origin and nature of addictions and crime. The author of the nasty article called him a man “whose writings reveal him as one of the most sexist and racist candidates to come along in Dallas County, which has a long and not-so-distinguished history of putting such men in black robes.” 

On the other hand, a friend wrote on his blog that R.D. “was the smartest guy I have ever known and had a heart filled with compassion.” (The link no longer works.)

R.D. Marching in MLK Parade, 1969
R.D. was listed in the 2003 Who’s Who in America and the 11th edition of Who’s Who in American Law (2000-2001).

Sadly, R.D. died too young on August 13, 2003 at the age of 53.  No doubt until that day, he was still making life interesting for those around him.  

The following is his obituary, published in the Newport Independent:

DR. R.D. RUCKER

Newport Independent (AR) - Wednesday, August 20, 2003

Dr. R.D. Rucker, 53, died Wednesday, Aug. 13, 2003 at his home in Dallas, Texas. he was born on Jan. 14, 1950 in Newport, the son of Curtis Kirk and Demore Rucker.

Dr. Rucker started his education at W,F. Branch High School in Newport.

Upon graduation, in 1968, he. was awarded the Win Rockefeller scholarship, for the University of Arkansas at Fayetteville.

He continued his education at the University of Iowa, University of Moscow, Russia, Columbia University, and the University of Texas Law School. He held B.A., M.A., Ph.D., and J.D. Degrees.

Dr. Rucker was a former prosecutor, public defender, Assistant Texas Attorney General, and college professor of Russian history. He also was a guest lecturer and author of six books.

Dr. Rucker is survived by two sisters, Evelinea "Diane" Cunningham, and Polly Sanders-Peterson (Ray), all of Denver, Colo.; four brothers, Kirk Rucker of San Francisco, Calif., Curtis Rucker of Chicago, Ill., Willie Rucker of Newport, and Lucky Time Rucker of Minneapolis, Minn.; numerous nieces and nephews; and a sister-in-law, Dorothy Mae Williams Rucker of Newport.

Dr. Rucker was preceded in death by his parents; two sisters, Isabella Rucker and Elvett (Elva) Rucker Alcorn; and three brothers David, Therry and Raymond Rucker.

Funeral services will be held at 11 a.m. Thursday at Fairmont Cemetery Mortuary Chapel in Denver, Colo.

Memorial may be made to the American Cancer Society.

Arrangements by Fairmont Cemetery Mortuary Chapel in Denver, Colo.

Tuesday, May 24, 2011

December 2, 1969: The Night We Drove Ole Dixie Down -- And Didn’t Even Know It

The Student Senate of the University of Arkansas voted on Tuesday, December 2, 1969 for a resolution recommending that the university’s band quit playing Dixie as a fight song at Razorback sporting events. The vote was 27 to 6. 

On Thursday, December 4, the head of the Arkansas’ band, Dr. Richard Worthington, announced that the band would quit playing Dixie.  According to him, his decision was prompted by the action of the Student Senate.  He said, “I will abide by the Student Senate’s decision....if the students do not want the band to play the song, the band will not do so.”

Northwest Arkansas Times, Dec. 4, 1969







I was a member of the Student Senate on the night we drove ole Dixie down.  But we didn’t know, really, what we had done. In truth, student senate resolutions -- outside a very narrow range of actions -- rarely affected what the university did and how it did it. The student senate certainly did not make policy for the university, but sometimes we expressed our views, even if we knew that they would likely have no influence. This time, much to our surprise, our resolution, according to Worthington, influenced a high profile university decision.

The student senate’s Dixie resolution came at a dicey time. A big football game with the Texas Longhorns was coming, and both teams were undefeated. Some commentators said the game, to be played in Fayetteville, was for the national championship. It was scheduled to be televised nationally, and rumors were floating that President Richard Nixon would be attending.

Northwest Arkansas Times, December 4, 1969 
The game -- with the local excitement and national prominence -- offered an opportunity for a couple of groups with grievances to have their voices heard. The first was a local group -- mostly African-American students -- who were unhappy with the racial situation at the University of Arkansas. Blacks made up a tiny percentage of the student body, and many felt mistreated individually and as a group. One example, they said, of the mistreatment was the tradition of playing Dixie as a fight song at university football games. The unhappy students, members of Black Americans for Democracy (BAD), wanted the playing of that song, which they considered racist, to be discontinued.

Another group was concerned with the Vietnam war. The group included students, faculty members, and locals. One of the main leaders of the anti-Vietnam group was a 1964 graduate of Fayetteville High School and Vietnam veteran, Don Donner. Another was UA physics professor, Art Hobson. The group’s plan for a "pro-peace" protest went into full gear when Nixon announced he would attend the game.

With the prominence of the game and guests, UA administrators feared that the protesters would interfere the game and detract from the university’s day of national prominence. The fears were heightened by the disruption of a university pep rally by some members of BAD. Also, some anti-Dixie students vowed to storm the field during the game if Dixie were played. 
Northwest Arkansas Times, Nov. 26, 1969

The UA student senate voted for the anti-Dixie resolution in the context of these tensions. It was an unlikely group to take a bold stand against on this issue. Only one student senator was black (Eddie Walker). The previous year George Lease, president of the Student Association, had appointed Gerald Jordan to be the first black student senator. A large proportion of the senators were elected by all-white sorority and fraternities. (As I recall, the senate seats were apportioned by giving each each sorority and fraternity a senate position, giving each university dormitory a seat or two, plus allotting a few seats to be elected by off-campus students.)  However, the president of the Student Association supported the resolution and, according to David Davies, one of her advisors, arranged for small group meetings with a couple of BAD members talking to one or two student senators. These meetings were held just before the December 2nd senate meeting.

Some people complained that the student senate passed the anti-Dixie resolution because it was intimidated by BAD. I disagree. I believe that the senate members were effectively lobbied by BAD and were persuaded by these small group conversations with BAD members that voting for the resolution was in the best interest of students.

(This issue and a resolution supporting the Vietnam Moratorium -- which came a couple of weeks earlier -- are the only student senate actions about which I remember being lobbied while a student senator. As I recall. the pro-moratorium resolution also passed.)

In truth, I think that most of us viewed the anti-Dixie resolution as a symbolic action that would express an opinion, but not change anything. Thus, it was seen as a low stakes vote on a resolution that generated intensity among one group of students, but not much interest among most them.

I voted for it for three reason.  First, I was convinced by the sincerity of and arguments against Dixie by the BAD students. Second, I could understand why the descendants of slaves viewed the song as, at best, insensitive, and, at worst, given the context of a football team that still had an all-white team on the field, as racist. Third, I never much liked Dixie nor understood what it had to do with the University of Arkansas. It certainly had no relevance for me with roots in the Ozark mountains.

The senate vote elicited some negative feedback, including letters to the editor and letters to university. I remember the student senate got an angry letter from John Norman Warnock, a long-time segregationist who had been a big deal when a student at the University of Arkansas (according to his biography). (See Warnock -- A Retrospective by R. W. Scott, Camark Press, Camden, Arkansas, 1987)

As the game approached, a strange shooting occurred on Friday night before the game, raising the concern of some black students for their safety.  Darryl Brown -- who had been a football team walk-on in 1964 -- was shot in the leg below the knee on a street at the edge of campus. He had little information he could provide police about the shooting. A spokesperson for BAD asked that the National Guard be sent to campus to protect black students.
Northwest Arkansas Times, Dec. 5, 1969

Despite the unexplained shooting incident (which attracted little newspaper attention), the game took place without major incident and had a memorable finish. The anti-Vietnam group conducted a peaceful vigil at a location, a hill overlooking the stadium, specified by the university. Dixie was not played. Anti-Dixie students did not interrupt the game.
 
President Richard Nixon, Henry Kissinger, Governor Winthrop Rockefeller, Congressmen George Bush and John Paul Hammerschmidt, Arkansas Senators Fulbright and McClelland and many other dignitaries watched an exciting game won in the final minutes on a daring fourth down pass by the Texas team.

The game inspired a book, Horns, Hogs and Nixon Coming: Texas vs. Arkansas in Dixie’s Last Stand by Terry Frei.  He called the game “Dixie’s last stand” because it was the last game played by all-white major football teams.  Also, a documentary, 1969 The Game of the Century, Texas Longhorns, was released in 2010.  Another documentary, The Big Shootout, is now being finalized (see http://bigshootout.com/the-big-shootout/ ).

A history of the University of Arkansas band describes the decision to quite playing Dixie as follows:
After a series of student-senate votes, a campus-wide referendum, and numerous confrontations of which a few turned violent, Dr. Worthington discontinued the band’s planning the song just prior to the Texas-Arkansas Great Shootout of 1969.
(The University of Arkansas Razorback Band: A History, 1874-2004, by T.T. Tyler Thompson)
In fact, a student referendum was held in the spring on whether the UA band should play Dixie. Students voted overwhelmingly (2010 for and 944 against) to resume playing Dixie.

The real explanation of what happened in December 1962 is likely that Worthington (with the assent of the UA leaders) used the student senate resolution to justify an action had he had wanted to take for some time: quit playing Dixie. The student senate resolution provide good cover for him to act, and likely, his action defused the potential for disruption of the biggest football game in Arkansas’ history and was an important step in making minority students feel welcome at the University of Arkansas.  After the pro-Dixie resolution passed, Worthington and his successors refused to start playing Dixie again.


<revised May 29, 2011>