SEMO Indian R.I.P.

SEMO orientation packet 1965I was cleaning out the hall closet that held a bunch of newspaper clippings and old school papers this afternoon. In the midst of yellowing newsprint more suitable for confetti than reading, I found this folder from my 1965 freshman orientation.

Poor Chief Sagamore had no idea that he and every vestige of his Indian heritage would be exiled only a few decades later.

Look to your left, look to your right

SEMO orientation packet 1965This was a listing of special events. I must have been taking notes on it so I could perform my duties as The Missourian’s campus correspondence. I drove poor editor jBlue crazy because I was supposed to be covering the school, but I spent as little time as possible on campus. Chasing sirens was a lot more fun.

All I can remember from the Houck Stadium Freshman Welcome was sitting in the bleachers and hearing some guy delivering the old lines, “Look to your left, look to your right. Next [can’t remember if he said “semester” or “year”) one of you won’t be here.

He was right. Two years later, I transferred to Ohio University, a school that wasn’t run like a Charleston high school. If you think I’m exaggerating, check out the Student Handbook.

Songs

SEMO orientation packet 1965In case we felt like breaking into song, a small sheet of appropriate songs was included. I visited the SEMO website to find that the alma mater hasn’t changed (although the current version has another verse. Maybe ours did too, but they thought memorizing TWO verses might be too much for us frosh.).

The four songs contain seven references to “Indians” or “Braves.”

Give Me An “I”

SEMO orientation packet 1965The administration must have thought we more capable of cheering than singing because we were given a list of 13 cheers printed on canary-colored paper.

Give Me an “I” was a call and response where the cheerleaders would yell, “Give me an ‘I,” at which point we were supposed to echo “I” back at them. This was repeated for “N,” “D,” “I,” “A,” “N” and “S.”

To make sure we got it, the cheerleaders would ask, “What does that spell?”

The proper response was “INDIANS!” repeated louder three times.

 

 

Even Her Mug Shot Is Cute

Lila Perry Steinhoff's SEMO ID cardNot everybody can look cute in a mug shot with a number under their chin.

Had Wife Lila elected a life of crime, the FBI would have had a tough time keeping her picture on the Post Office walls because teenage boys would have been snagging them to hang next to their Farrah Fawcett and Cheryl Tiegs posters.

Pre-politically correct SEMO

Lila Perry Steinhoff's SEMO ID cardThis Southeast Missouri State College ID was issued while the school still had a newspaper called The Capaha Arrow, a yearbook named The Sagamore, and Chief Sagamore was a fixture at all the football games.

I removed Lila’s Social Security number and birth year to thwart ID thieves. I don’t know what all the holes that are punched out signify. The top evidently refers to the school year, but I don’t what the 1 through 25 boxes are for.

Here’s what happened to Chief Sagamore.

Capaha Arrow turns 100 as The Arrow

1956 SEMO Homecoming Parade

I’m dipping into Steve McKeown’s stash of photos taken by his dad, James D. McKeown III, to show the 1956 Southeast Missouri State College (now University) Homecoming parade headed down Broadway between Pacific and North West End Blvd.

I’m sure car buffs will enjoy seeing the fancy wheels. Old truck enthusiasts will like the red pickup in the church parking lot.

Trucks supplied by local companies

I see trucks from E.C. Robinson Lumber Co. and Wiethrop Trucking.

Pictures of other Homecoming Parades

1956 Homecoming Parade photo gallery

Click on any photo to make it larger, then click on the left or right side of the photo to move through the gallery. Give a round of applause to Steve for providing the photos and to his dad for taking them.

SEMO’s Capaha Arrow Turns 100

Southeast Missouri State University’s student paper, The Capaha Arrow, turned 100 on Feb.l, a Missourian story by M.D. Kittle pointed out. Despite what my kids might think, I wasn’t around to help put out the inaugural issue.

I know I had a lot of photos in The Arrow, but the 1966 and 1967 Sagamore yearbooks don’t list me as being on the newspaper staff.  The photo above shows the front page of the newspaper set in type at The Missourian’s print shop. The picture on the front page is one I took, and this image appeared in The Sagamore.

Journalism Class

I had W.W. Norris, the paper’s adviser, for Journalism at SEMO. It was an easy A. I don’t remember Mr. Norris as being a particularly inspiring instructor, but we got along fine. After I’d breezed through the class exercises, he’d come over and we’d trade newspaper stories.

I wish I could dredge up some fond memories of The Arrow, but I can’t think of any memorable photos I shot there.

Part of that was because I spent as little time as possible on campus. That drove poor Missourian Editor John Blue to distraction because I was ostensibly hired as Campus Correspondent. I have a number of memos from him pointing that out and asking when I was going to get around to actually writing about SEMO doings. He’d probably have fired me if I hadn’t worn so many other hats (so cheaply).

Chief Sagamore and The Sagamore are gone

I’ve already written about the exile of Chief Sagamore for the more politically correct Rowdy Redhawk. In fact, The Capaha Arrow has dropped the “Capaha” from it’s name. It’s just The Arrow these days.

Bill East wondered what happened to The Sagamore if Chief Sagamore was deemed inappropriate. I went to the official SEMO website, put “Sagamore” in the search box and was directed to “Fun Facts,” where I was told, “The Sagamore Yearbook is no longer in production. Southeast began the Sagamore in 1912 and in 1989 decided to no longer print a University yearbook.”

So, if the university hadn’t pulled the plug on it, The Sagamore would have celebrated its centennial in 2012.

Don’t dis the subdivision editor

Wife Lila worked on The Sagamore as a subdivision editor. She rejected a print from one of the staff photographers, who sassed, back, “Let’s see if YOU can do any better.”

That was a mistake. She marched right into the darkroom and showed him that she HAD learned something from all those hours looking over my shoulder.

I normally side with the photographer, but I’d have loved to have seen that little exchange.