Memories: The 1940s
The classes of the 1940s saw a streak of 13 women editors of The Indiana Daily Student as men left for WWII. Some met with war correspondent Ernie Pyle, who visited to collect his honorary degree a year before his death in the Pacific in 1945.
Read memories from some of those students below. And don't forget to submit your own memories using this online form to help us celebrate 100 years of journalism at IU.
(From a letter sent in 1943 to journalism instructor J. Wymond French while Angelopolous was in the Navy, ready to ship out from Great Lakes training facility in Illinois.)
I would like to say that the chief purpose of this letter is to express to you my deepest gratitude for everything you have done for me in the past. It would be hard for me to express in words my wholehearted indebtedness to you.
I can say without a doubt that I only hope I am — and will be — worthy of your continuing and ceaseless efforts on my behalf. I hope that you can get some consolation in knowing that I, personally, realize how far I’ve had to come along.
In summary, I wish to say with all sincerity that I owe more to you than any one man in the university. I’ve often thought that the coach has made a man of me, but you had gone one better — you had made an man and a newspaperman out of me. Again, I hope I can prove that later.
Taps are sounding off and I’ll have to wind up. Thanks for listening in and my best regards.
Angelopolous was a sports writer for 43 years, including 25 years at The Indianapolis News. He died in 2009.
|Broide and Goldshall at the Well House (Arbutus)|
I was a boy of barely 17 when I arrived in Bloomington to prep myself for a career in journalism. Three months later I was rocked by the news that our naval base in Pearl Harbor, Hawaii, had been bombed by the Japanese.
After the Christmas break, the campus life changed. For one, courses were on a trimester basis with school running through the summer. During the trimester that began in February, I was allowed to join the staff of the Indiana Daily Student, a rare privilege for a freshman.
Working daily, I began to move up the staff ladder until April, 1943, when I was called up from the Army reserve for which I had signed up. By that time I had absorbed knowledge and rigid rules of grammar from John Stempel, the journalism department head, and his three able professorial staffers. It came in handy during the war.
“You were a journalism student when you were called up,” he said. “Are you interested in becoming one of the first combat correspondents?”
I replied that I would, and his recommendation resulted in my being named the correspondent for the 30th Infantry Division, a unit of about 15,000 men. There was one for each of the other regiments of the Third Infantry Division. We were on unique assignments to produce feature stories for a division paper and newspapers back in the U.S. hometowns of our soldiers. Our “press pass” was a letter from the division commanding general allowing us to go anywhere within our regimental boundaries at any time.
When I returned to IU in February of 1946, I was welcomed by professor Stempel and the other teachers and promoted to night editor spot on the Daily Student. That summer, I was editor of the State Fair editions and in the fall I became editor-in-chief of the paper.
My severest test came when I wrote an editorial criticizing the American Legion, headquartered in Indianapolis, when that “patriotic institution” called for stopping the teaching of communism in government classes at IU. Professor Stempel dropped in to the Quonset hut office that evening and read the galley proof of the editorial.
“You are asking for trouble,” he said. He pointed out the political implications of bearding the lion. But he allowed me to print the editorial. It resulted in a command appearance before the university's board of trustees. I was allowed to remain in school. In fact, Dean of Students Bill Shoemaker consulted with me about the racial integration of dorms.
John Stempel left me with respect for the power of the press and the dedication of its teachers. He also imbued me with a sense of proper grammar and the necessity of factual reporting. How he would have hated a large segment of the TV and cable news people.
Mace Broide, BA’47, retired as a freelance writer and consultant in the Washington, D.C., area. He worked for the Evansville Press and for Scripps Howard in Evansville, Ind.; as campaign manager and an aide to Sen. Vance Hartke, D-Ind.; as a public relations executive; and as chief of staff for the U.S. House Committee on the Budget. His wife, Gloria Goldsholl Broide, ’47, also was a journalism student. She died in November, 2009.
When I enrolled at IU in early 1946 following three-and-a-half years in the U.S. Navy, I didn’t have a clue concerning a major. But, a professor Steigleman signed me up for journalism because I told him that I had enjoyed my experiences on my high school newspaper.
On the first day of classes, I reported to The Student (housed in that Quonset hut). I had yet to have my first journalism class. A very stern-looking woman took one look at me and motioned me to report to her. (She crooked her finger at me.) I found out later that she was Marge Smith (later Blewett), the editor.
“We aren’t getting enough news about the upcoming mayor’s race, Foster. Go down to city hall, interview the mayor, and DON’T COME BACK WITHOUT A STORY!”
My trepidation about my very first reporting assignment was about equal to my fear of that female editor. So, I took off, interviewed the mayor, wrote the story, got the right-hand lead on the next issue, including a byline.
That’s all it took. I spent the next four years working in every aspect of the IDS. When I finally became editor, I met, romanced, and married the campus editor, Jean (Buroker) Foster. We graduated from IU together and celebrated our 62nd wedding anniversary last January.
Carl Foster, BA’49, MA’50, retired in 1986 as director of public relations at the University of Central Missouri.