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Three to Remember

“Why don’t you write a piece about your all-time favorite class at ����ֱ��,” editor Eric suggested innocently.

That’s easier said than done. But looking back 58 years, three stand out.

Introductory Economics, Fall 1961

Professor Clifton Grubbs was a reserve Marine colonel with combat in the Pacific and Korea on his résumé, along with a Harvard Ph.D. His lecture style owed a lot to Patton, his content to Paul Samuelson and common sense.

Economics was not a dismal science in Grubbs’ classroom. Here’s how he explained the national debt to 200 undergraduates. “Write ‘I owe you $285 billion’ (the debt in 1961 – quaint, right?) on a slip of paper and hand it to the person next to you.”

When pulses returned to normal, he explained the debt wasn’t a threat to the country because it was internally held.

He couldn’t do that today — much of the debt is held by foreigners. But the memory lingers.

Introduction to Literature, Summer 1961

William Markward had a lifelong love affair with Shakespeare, and his way of introducing us to literature was, in three words, Shakespeare, Shakespeare, Shakespeare.

He didn’t just have us read the plays. He read them to us.

Markward had performed as a Shakespearian actor. As he read, the text came alive. Listening to him read — perform — Henry IV, Part I was magical. It’s still my favorite play.

Constitutional Law, Spring 1967

Richard Wilson was born on the Fourth of July and, like Jefferson and Adams, also died on the 4th. Civil liberties were his passion. He taught Con Law by Socratic method. It was a special treat to watch his mind at work — like when he led the class in dissecting the landmark First Amendment case Schenck vs. U.S.

Schenck had been convicted of violating the Espionage Act of 1917 by passing out leaflets urging resistance to the World War I draft. His defense was the First Amendment.

Justice Oliver Wendell Holmes’ ruling upholding Schenck’s conviction contained two of the most memorable lines associated with his name:

“The most stringent protection of free speech would not protect a man in falsely shouting fire in a theatre…,” and “The question… is whether the words… create a clear and present danger...”

Wilson asked question after question leading to a shocking revelation: Holmes, the Court’s great civil libertarian, had in effect partially suspended the First Amendment for the duration of World War I.

What classes were your favorites isn’t important. What matters is what you got out of a class — and what decades later still resonates in your skull and informs your view of the world and your decisions and, hopefully, makes you a better human being. That’s what you paid the big bucks for.

Photos courtesy ����ֱ�� Heritage Center; Texas Exes (Grubbs); @iStock/lolon (frames)