That indeed may be, but if Allen had taken college chemistry with a couple of us back when Siceluff Hall was the plain old Science Building, he might have changed his tune.
Not that Wayne Reed and I missed class or gave it less than our best. Irene Cloud, our teacher, gave it the old college try, too. But it was a summer-long struggle, to say the least. Like Wayne said at one juncture — some guys can hit the curve ball, some can’t. Which probably had more to do with physics than chemistry, but so be it.
As I recall, neither Wayne nor I had taken a smidge of chemistry in the small, rural high schools we had attended: Wayne in McDonald County and I in Texas County. But we had each decided to spend a summer in hopes of satisfying a five-hour science elective. That we passed is what the two of us later referred to as a true miracle of science.
Now, decades later, what do I remember about my first college chemistry course? Well, it was a hot summer. I remember that. The building wasn’t air conditioned, but neither were the other two campus edifices of learning — the Administration Building and the Education Building. I distinctly remember our teacher, Irene Cloud, was quite attractive. For some reason I recall that chili cost 15¢ a bowl at the College Inn and never tasted the same two days in a row. I also remember that the Science Building was the newest of the three major buildings, had opened in the early ’30s, and housed the science, mathematics, home economics and foreign languages departments. A number of other classes spilled into the building, including word study (which I took instead of French). But that’s another story.
I remember, too, the St. Louis Cardinals were in a heated pennant race with the Brooklyn Dodgers. At one juncture, when I was peering into my microscope, Wayne asked me what I saw and I said, “Either Enos Slaughter or Harry Walker, batting against Whitlow Wyatt and the bases are loaded.”
“Lemme see,” Wayne said and took over my microscope. “It’s Slaughter,” he said, “and he just cleared the bases with a triple off the right field pavilion screen.”
This brief display of giddiness perhaps falls within the 80 percent realm, however today would be dissected by some erudite analyst on cable as follows: “Chemistry, when diluted with fantasy, has absolutely no relevancy whatsoever.”
Somehow, to two college sophomores almost six decades ago, it did.
Relevant, too, is the Science Building, as we knew it for many years, and Siceluff Hall, as many generations of students have known it for the past several decades.
And Harry Siceluff, for whom the building is named, will never lose his relevancy. He was an extremely popular teacher throughout his lengthy Missouri State career — not only among students, but also among his professorial peers as well.
Did the Board of Regents ever appoint a presidential-search committee that he didn’t serve on? I doubt it.
He might not have truly enjoyed any Woody Allen movie except “Play It Again, Sam,” but he’d probably agree with Allen’s perspective on the old college try.
Leave a Reply