1967 SEMO Graduation

I see that Saturday was SEMO’s graduation day. The Missourian’s reported that Dr. Fred Janzow, vice provost and dean of the School of Graduate Studies, delivered the commencement address to the 1,129 students receiving degrees. Dr. Janzow will retire in June after 35 years at Southeast, where he began his career as a biology teacher.

Dr. Janzow, The Missourian said, told the audience “Change is inevitable, unexpected and unpredictable. It creates new possibilities for our own life. You have been well prepared by the faculty and staff here to take advantage of these possibilities.”

Dr. Charles J. McClain spoke in 1967

Dr. Charles J. McClain, president of Hillboro’s Jefferson Junior College, addressed the 204 State College students and a crowd of about 1,300 at the October 1967 graduation.

One of the students was Andrew B. McLean, above, a fellow who would be my best man two years later. We met while working on The Capaha Arrow and The Sagamore. I don’t recall if he was much of a student, but he had memorized every Bill Cosby album ever made and could do Bill Cosby better than Bill Cosby.

He was NOT invited to do any of his routines as part of the commencement exercises.

A student must know his instructor

Dr. McClain made some interesting points. He said that excellence in education can only be maintained when a student knows his instructor: “A common [approach] is to group students together and attempt to stuff their minds as if they were a gut. I categorically reject this is sound educational practice.”

I don’t know your names

College today cannot afford to have instructors who stand before a class and say, “I don’t know your names now. I won’t know them at the end of the semester. And, furthermore, I don’t want to know them,” he warned.

Colleges face challenges

Looking, accurately, into his crystal ball, he said that each American faces the stark reality of re-eduction three or four times during his working years because of rapid changes. “To produce leaders and other highly trained persons to carry forward our civilization, higher education, once considered a privilege of the elite, now becomes a necessity for all.”

Look to your left, look to your right

Dr. McClain said that he couldn’t think of a worse statement to make during freshman orientation than, “Look to your left, look to your right. By next semester, one of you will be missing.”

I found this to be perfectly ironic, because that’s exactly what we freshman were told while we were sitting in Houck Stadium for our orientation.

“Perhaps our approach to education is wrong,” he continued. “Contrast this to one used by the Army, where every effort is made to make each individual a good soldier.”

Educators, he said, must devote more time to students and the learning process rather than mere accumulation of knowledge. “No one would argue railroad owners once knew how to run a railroad. However, if these owners had been thinkers and sensitive to change, they would now own the airlines.”

Dr. Scully’s advice

Dr. Mark F. Scully, State College president, told the graduates, “The reputation of the college now rests with you.” He said in fulfilling this responsibility the first thing graduates can do is “go out and do a good job. You’ve been well trained.” The second thing is to influence other young men and women to attend State College, he added.

The cute girl congratulating Andy McLean is Lila Perry, who would become Lila Steinhoff in 1969. (I’d tell you the date, but I never can remember it.)

Last Wimpy’s Bites the Dust

Generations of Cape Girardeans came of age at Wimpy’s. For most of us it was the grocery store / hamburger joint at the corner of Cape Rock and Kingshighway shown here in this 1966 time exposure. You can see more Wimpy’s photos over the ages and read some interesting comments at my Feb. 8, 2010, posting.

The first Wimpy’s opened in 1942 on the west side of North Kingshighway, near the entrance to Arena Park. Fred and Ethel Lewis ran the establishment while their sons, Freeman and Frank were in the service in World War II.

The youngest brother, Billie (Bill) joined the family business when it moved to the Cape Rock location in 1947. It was a teenage hangout until 1972, when the property was sold to a bank in 1973.

Wimpy’s Skyway Restaurant opened at the Cape Airport in 1960, expanded from 12 to 25 seats in 1961, then closed in 1967.

Moved to 506 S. Kingshighway

Bill opened a new Wimpy’s at 506 S. Kingshighway after the Cape Rock location closed. He catered to the breakfast and lunch crowd.

In the late 90s, Gary and Diane Garner, shown above, had a car lot on Morgan Oak. They heard rumors that a new bridge was going to be built. “OK, we’re done,” he said they thought.

They happened to hear that the woman who owned the Wimpy’s building wanted to sell it after the restaurant closed in 1997, so they moved Gary’s Car and Truck Sales there. I shot this photo Oct. 26, 2009, and didn’t think about running it until Ray Boren (Class of 55) posted a photo and note to a Central newsletter showing that the building had been torn down.

I searched through The Missourian for a story, but couldn’t find anything that would tell what the land will be used for.

All we have left are memories

With the razing of the last Wimpy’s, looks like all we have left will be memories of seven-cent hamburgers, cherry Cokes and endless loops between Wimpy’s and Pfisters.

Lewis Brothers’ obituaries

Photographers Don’t Understand Pressure

I should have know better than to take a tongue-in-cheek swing (pun intended) at golf and golfers yesterday. I described my disdain for the sport and singled out Sam Snead as a photographer-hating prima donna who would try to blame shutter noise (chirping birds, wriggling earthworms, spectator coughing) for missing a shot.

CHS classmate Brad Brune, a self-described “humble golf fan,” took me to the woodshed in a very creative comment. I decided it was worth sharing.

Brad Brune’s comment

Once upon a time….

One of the promising young rising stars in the world of photo journalism, Ken Steinhoff, is on a very important shoot. Many Thousands of Dollars, all your sponsorships, and your national ranking are at stake. Your assignment is to catch a picture of Sam Snead “exactly” as his club strikes the ball on the 18th tee box of the Masters.

You are the only photographer allowed to take this exact photo. Too soon,too late, or off center won’t work, and your successful shoot would be jeopardized. At the very least you would loose several thousands of bucks for missing that essential shot – at that historic time and place.

Hundreds of people surround you and are watching you work. “GO KEN…. YOU THE MAN!!” they shout at you as you steady your camera. Millions are watching on TV and there is a close up of you on every TV screen in America. All is quiet…. just the sound a the breeze in the trees in the distance. Sam starts his 100 mph down swing. You are nervous as hell, sweat is running down you face, and you have your moist finger lightly poised above the shutter button.

BOO!

I sneak up behind you at the worst possible moment and quietly whisper, “BOO!” You jump out of your skin, snap the shot a fraction of a second early and your hands move slightly so that Sam’s head is half cut out of your shot!

That night you are the “joke” on every talk show on cable and broadcast TV. Slow motion video of the exact millisecond you blew the shot are repeated over and over. Every paper in the country has the head line the next day, “STEINHOFF CHOKES…. BLOWS THE SHOT!” Photographic columnists take cheap shots at you because you won’t accept responsibility for blowing the shot saying, “a sudden noise from a fan caused me to loose concentration.”

Had you been in Bush Stadium taking a picture of Stan the Man in the World Series with 50,000 fans screaming…. my little trick would not have bothered you at all. You would have been a rich hero, and the toast of the town.

There is no comparison Ken.
Brad
a humble golf fan.

A photographer’s rejoinder

Photographers are the one group who have to literally keep their focus no matter what kind of chaos is happening around them.

When you’re shooting what should be a routine traffic stop of some armed robbery suspects and suddenly someone shouts, “Get the photographers!” that’s a little more unnerving than someone whispering “BOO!” while Sam Snead is swinging.

Lens hood being ripped off

I’m proud to say that this photo, taken seconds after the one above, is sharp, even as the trooper rips the lenshood and filter off my camera while he’s trying to take it away from me. THAT’S focus. (The hood and filter are the round, dark and light objects in his palm.)

Trooper attack from another angle

Palm Beach Post Staffer C.J. Walker captured this frame of the lens hood flying through the air. One of these days I’ll publish the whole sequence and tell the complete story.

The short version is that by the time the incident investigation was finished, the Florida Highway Patrol adopted a media access policy that has become the model for public safety departments all over the country.

So, while I won’t say that every photo I’ve taken has captured the peak action, been sharp and exposed properly, I’d say my powers of concentration are pretty good under real life pressure. Let’s see how well Sam Snead putts in a burning building, while being attacked, in a hurricane or while being teargassed.

I agree. There IS no comparison.

Ken

A humble photographer

[What happened to the trooper, you wonder? My very own newspaper named him Lawman of the Year a couple of years later. I can only assume that what happened here was an aberration or that the editors of the paper thought the trooper had the right idea of how to treat photographers.]

 

How to Improve Your Golf Swing

Actually, I have no idea. I just used that title to catch the attention of search engines.

In fact, golf was always my least favorite sport after Dad put me to work one summer cutting weeds along the roadside. He issued me a thing with a long wooden handle and a sharp curved blade that looked like something the Grim Reaper uses to harvest souls and sent me out into the hot summer sun to make grass out of weeds.

The first time I picked up a golf club, I noticed the similarity between swinging a club and a sythe. I did not want to relive that experience in any form, so I scratched golf off my life list.

The guys above are the Central High School golf team. I recognize most of them as being Class of 65, but a whippersnapper or two from ’66 might have snuck in.

J. Fred Waltz is second from left

James Fred Waltz – he was always known as J. Fred as far as I recall – is second from the left in both photos. I mention him because he tracked me down and took me out to lunch at a secret, undisclosed location the last time I was in Cape.

Al Spradling was supposed to come along, but he came up with a convenient excuse to ditch us at the last minute.

Waltz, Palmer, Snead, Trevino

Here’s what Mr. Waltz looks like today.

Not only did I not like to play golf, I hated covering it. Fortunately, golf wasn’t a big sport in Missouri, Ohio or North Carolina. Unfortunately, it WAS a big sport in Florida, where golf courses outnumber graveyards.

The first couple of years down here, I shot all the biggies at PGA National, Doral and other cathedrals of grass and sand traps. I disliked all of the hoity-toity pretentiousness that went with the sport.

Sam Snead was the worst

The worst guy to shoot was Sam Snead. He hated photographers and always blamed us if he made a bad shot. He reamed me out in front of the whole world one day for – in his eyes – shooting before he completed his swing. When I processed my film, I saw that he had clearly hit the ball before my shutter fired, but it wouldn’t have made a difference if I’d have shown up the next day with photographic evidence.

I never could figure out why golfers need absolute silence when a baseball pitcher can throw a rock 90 miles per hour at some batter’s head with 50,000 people screaming in his ear.

Arnold Palmer wasn’t bad, but my favorite was Lee Trevino. Here was a man who didn’t take himself or the sport too seriously. He played a relaxed game like he was having fun, joking with the gallery and never saying an unkind word to anyone.