A handful of history Professor's project paints a portrait of Wittenberg' past
Discard all concepts of Wittenberg as a sleepy, Midwestern college isolated from the world. Teddy Roosevelt certainly didn’t think so when he arrived on campus in 1918, nor did the Army and Air Force when they sent their troops to campus for training during World War II.
These are just a few of the historical nuggets Richard T. Ortquist, professor emeritus of history, included in his project that brings “Wittenberg out of the vacuum” and into focus in relation to world events.
Ortquist’s project is part of a forthcoming publication titled Cradles of Conscience: Ohio’s Private Colleges and Universities, a collection of some 30 personal essays from representatives of private colleges.
Ortquist explained that each essay provides an interpretive study of the various institutions from their founding to modern times. “It’s something that deals with some of the trials and tribulations that perhaps the college has gone through,” Ortquist said.
Limited by a 20-page requirement, Ortquist poured through printed historical materials, specifically works by President Emeritus William A. Kinnison, and conducted personal interviews, which netted a plethora of information.
His journey through time provides a new perspective regarding the challenges that Wittenberg has faced in its history and shows an appreciation for how the campus leaders adapted and adjusted in order to maintain the college’s commitment to liberal arts and still address the needs of an ever-changing world.
Ortquist noted in the essay, for example, that the college was founded during the Mexican War and during the dawn of the abolitionist and anti-slavery movements.
He also noted how Wittenberg was originally established on what was then the frontier of a young America to offer a liberal arts education, which would provide the Lutheran Church with English-speaking pastors.
Shortly after its founding, those opposed to Americanization challenged Wittenberg’s existence. The college also suffered a severe decline in enrollment ushered in by the Civil War.
While researching Wittenberg, Ortquist also found that Wittenberg officials actually considered leaving Springfield when the city failed to provide financial support for the college back in the 1870s.
At that time the city wanted the college to develop a strong agricultural program in order to compete with the new land grant college scheduled for construction in Columbus.
Also of note, the decrease in new enrollment and retention rates that accompanied World War I reflected more than the war effort, according to Ortquist, who discovered that Wittenberg faced an even greater challenge during that time — the strong anti-German sentiment held by Americans.
“[There was] almost hysteria in this country for rejecting anything German,” Ortquist said. “German music was done away with, and German language wasn’t being taught in the schools anymore ... I think sauerkraut was renamed ‘liberty cabbage’ and dachshunds were called ‘liberty pups.’”
Many people considered Wittenberg College to be a “pro-German school, which wasn’t true, and that Springfield was a German-American community, which wasn't true,” Ortquist added.
“The irony of this is that when Wittenberg was founded, there was a very conscious effort to Americanize the Lutheran Church.”
One step taken in 1918, by then Wittenberg President Charles G. Heckert, to help the situation was to invite Theodore Roosevelt to campus.
When Roosevelt came to campus he spoke “basically to demonstrate the loyalty of Wittenberg” to the American cause, Ortquist explained.
The military also played a role in Wittenberg’s history.
Ortquist noted that the National Guard conducted drills on campus during World War I, and Army and Air force cadets arrived on campus to train during World War II. By the time of the Vietnam War, however, the anti-war sentiment of the time declared that a “liberal arts college was not a proper place for any military presence,” Ortquist said, adding that the faculty and President Stauffer engaged in heated disagreements about bringing a chapter of ROTC to campus.
Ortquist also explained that the hostilities extended beyond the military to companies who supported the war effort. “Today’s students don’t perhaps understand that recruiters for business didn’t even come on campus like they do now and like they did before,” Ortquist said.
“People who were being considered for a number of corporate positions were brought to the company.”
Another change on campus in response to national events occurred during the “rise of awareness” in the ’60s and ’70s.
Margaret Ermarth, professor of history, for example, secured funding to “develop a program in ‘Human Revolution,’” which would teach women how to confront society.
The university has also responded to gender and racial issues. “During the Civil Rights Movement our students left campus,” Ortquist said, noting that some perceived that there could be possible threats of violence.
“Colleges and universities were battlegrounds for anti-war movement, racial problems, and the women’s movement,” he added. Wittenberg responded by increasing its efforts to hire more blacks and women, he said.
Ortquist hopes that one day the vast resources in the archives will be better organized and a systematic oral history project developed to capture the university’s modern history. “It’s unfortunate that all this material is there, but it’s unusable,” he said.