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William Day Frederick Hagerman Stephen Hays, James Andrews Steve Hays Rodney Hood Seldon Strother Jack Matthews L.J. Hortin Gerald Dykstra Victor Whitehouse, Albert Gubitz, Gerald Dykstra Donald Clippinger Robert DeMott Walt Abendroth Edgar Whan, David Keck, Jeff Connor Seabury Quinn Ronald Socciarelli, Harold Robison, James Stewart Guido Stempel Father John Augustiniak Robin Lacy Robert Baker Waltraud Bald Janet Slater Karen Nulf Robert Winters Richard Danner, Dru Evarts, Daniel Keyes Hugh Bloemer Ralph Kliesch Art Marinelli Jr. Paul Hersey

Victor Whitehouse, Albert Gubitz, Gerald Dykstra Three worth remembering The fall 2001 issue asks: "Who's your favorite prof?" There are, in fact, two "favorite" professors. But, I must first set the stage. In the autumn of 1939, the gasps of the "Great Depression" were being breathed. In Europe, however, Hitler had invaded Poland, portending the coming years of disaster: World War II. Into this arena, I quit my job in Cleveland (where I was making $78 per month) and left home for Athens, Ohio, and a university experience. In those first few weeks of September/October, all entering students were required to attend a series of lectures by the dean of the University College. I can hardly call him a "favorite professor," for I cannot ever remember his name. I do remember his lectures. Once of them was entitled: "Noblesse Oblige." Or, in his paraphrase: "From those to whom society has given special advantages, special obligations to serve that society are required." The dean began his lecture by stating that, by the mere fact of our presence, we were a select group. Through the efforts of those who had gone before us, the efforts and love of our families, our own commitment and, most of all, the heritage of the political society in which we live, we had a very special opportunity. That opportunity ‹ that position in which we found ourselves ‹ created an equal share of obligations. That October morning, the dean wanted to speak about our obligations, about "Noblesse Oblige." He wanted to be sure that every student among us understood the role in society we accepted as we accepted the educational gift that society had prepared for us. An obligation, he stated, that society lays on all those who have been blessed with physical health, mental health, educational wealth and a "good" social order. I wish I remembered his name. I wish I had a copy of his lecture series. I do remember his message. There was a second "favorite professor." His name was Mr. Albert Gubitz (professor of economics and director of off-campus relations). He lives in my memory for two reasons. First, Mr. Gubitz taught more than economics. He taught his class how to listen to lectures and how to take notes. In fact, he spent as much time improving our note-taking skills as he did on the basics of first-year economics. Mr. Gubitz laid the foundation for a successful university experience. But, there was more. So much more. In Mr. Gubitz's class, I met a freshman from Buffalo, N.Y. Her name was Elinor Gruber. Two years later, on the opening day of the new academic year, Elinor and I crossed paths in Logan's Bookstore. We chatted about our summers. And I asked her to go with me to the "Registration Hop" (the customary social event opening the new school year). Two years later, on Oct. 6, 1943, and in the midst of war, we were married. Next week, Elinor and I celebrate our 58th wedding anniversary with our three children and our grandchildren. Though many people have shaped my life and my philosophies, I can think of no others who have had more impact on the joy with which I approach each day. G. Wallace Robb, BSC, '42 New Canaan, Conn. Editor's note: Thanks to research by Bill Kimok, we determined that the dean to whom G. Wallace Robb referred was likely Victor Whitehouse, who was filling in as acting dean at the time. Robb also wrote us a second letter, which follows. In a letter a few days ago, I wrote to your office about two of my "favorite" professors. Subsequent thought told me that any historical recollections of my favorite professors must include the name of business law Professor Gerald O. Dykstra. The University files surely must include a copy of this O.U. Post published in 1941 (or, was it 1942?), which bore the headline: "Only G.O.D. could make an A." The Post had run a feature article on "Grade your professor," for which ballots had to be sent to the Post. When the results were in, Gerald O. Dykstra had received the student body's highest acclaim. Only G.O.D. could make an "A." It was certainly true that Professor Dykstra was one of the toughest graders and most demanding instructors in the business school. But his preparation and presentations were so dynamic and thoughtful that each student felt personally involved. I remember one occasion when, after a spirited presentation on the National Recovery Act of mid-Depression years and the Supreme Court's reversal, he slumped against the window in exhaustion. On their exit from the lecture room, almost every student filed past and shook his hand. Professor Dykstra was a master of his trade and a superb advocate of the law. He was a tough grader, but his students learned. His students were in awe of his talents. In "grading their professors" that year, only G.O.D. made an "A." It was a fascinating use of journalism and an interesting insight of students' perceptions of their mentors. I saw Professor Dykstra on the campus of the University of Michigan, where I had gone, after war's end, to pursue an MBA. It was the alma mater to which Professor Dykstra returned to end his career teaching in the law school where he had gotten his start.