Early on in my then-SMS years, Dr. Virginia Craig confided to us in class that “President Ellis is just a big old, overgrown kid.”
Seems it was Dr. Roy Ellis’s wont to mingle with students in the corridors of the “A” building as they faced whatever fate awaited them that particular hour. “He sometimes comes into class with members of the Board of Regents,” Dr. Craig explained.
“He says they like to ‘watch the animals feed.’”
Without doubt, there was indeed a lot of “kid” in Dr. Ellis throughout his remarkable presidency that lasted 35 years.
Dr. Craig’s assessment came to mind recently when someone broached the subject of school spirit on today’s college campuses.
Now for all I know, school spirit may be better today than it was when you and I were young. But one thing’s certain: It was different back in Roy Ellis’ time.
When I was a student at then-SMS, our life — morning into night — revolved around 39 acres of land bounded by Grand Street, National Avenue, Madison Street and Kings Avenue. There were no student residence halls, so most students rented rooms at $5 a week in nearby homes.
Also within the general periphery was a smattering of eateries and businesses that catered to the needs of 1,900 students.
Once you enrolled, it was almost as if you’d crossed a moat (or so it seemed to a wide-eyed kid from the rural Ozarks). The castle gates swung open and you found yourself in a fiefdom centered around an Administration Building. Majestic trees and flowered walkways led to a Science Building, an Education Building, a field house and a stadium.
As for activities in this fiefdom, you must remember that President Ellis was born and raised in the rural Ozarks, near Hartville in Wright County. As a kid, his comings and goings revolved around community — churches, schools, rivers and creeks, and small hamlets and townships.
Heck, in the fall, schools (the one-room type, such as the one he taught in right out of high school) scheduled pie suppers on a rotating basis, so people in the community could attend all of them. It was the same with summer fairs, reunions and church revivals.
Communities were self-contained, which is a term that could well apply to Roy Ellis’s fiefdom. On campus, there was an almost-daily log of activities to keep the old school spirit pumping.
Christmas activities, for example, lasted almost a month, and ended with two events — a midnight candle service and a Christmas assembly. Dr. Ellis spoke at the latter. He would chide his audience with comments like, “I hold a cruel advantage over you. You can’t begin your holiday vacation until I quit talking.”
One of his favorite events was the May Day Festival, which dated back to his time as a student. Following his retirement in 1961, he wrote that one year 50 May poles were wound by hundreds of SMS and Greenwood students as Spring (played by an SMS female student) came with her fairies, butterflies and flowers to drive away the evil North King and his mean snowflakes (all played, of course, by SMS males). I never witnessed a May Day Festival. The last one was held in 1943. Possibly because the Regents didn’t want the Air Force Cadets billeted in the field house to laugh themselves into the sick bay.
Graduation activities, most of which have been discontinued, seemingly lasted forever. Let’s see … there was sneak day, followed by breakfast in the park, a picnic in the park, an honors assembly baccalaureate, and at long last, commencement.
As for athletics, the Bears were ever front and center. Make no mistake, Roy Ellis was a vocal Bears fan. Strike up the band and play ball! In 1953, when the Fabulous Four beat Indiana State in the semifinals of the NAIA tourney, then won the event the next night, Dr. Ellis declared there would be no school at SMS the following Monday.
To my knowledge, that’s the last time classes were called off at MSU for any reason other than weather. Now THAT’s school spirit!
Gerald Carter says
It is hard for this alumn to retain school spirit when they changed the name of your mom(alma mater). SMS to SMSU was acceptable, but Missouri State went too far.