Oral History Program Gordon T. Allred Interviewed by Ruby Licona 7 March 2014 i Oral History Program Weber State University Stewart Library Ogden, Utah Gordon T. Allred Interviewed by Ruby Licona 7 March 2014 Copyright © 2014 by Weber State University, Stewart Library ii Mission Statement The Oral History Program of the Stewart Library was created to preserve the institutional history of Weber State University and the Davis, Ogden and Weber County communities. By conducting carefully researched, recorded, and transcribed interviews, the Oral History Program creates archival oral histories intended for the widest possible use. Interviews are conducted with the goal of eliciting from each participant a full and accurate account of events. The interviews are transcribed, edited for accuracy and clarity, and reviewed by the interviewees (as available), who are encouraged to augment or correct their spoken words. The reviewed and corrected transcripts are indexed, printed, and bound with photographs and illustrative materials as available. Archival copies are placed in University Archives. The Stewart Library also houses the original recording so researchers can gain a sense of the interviewee's voice and intonations. Project Description The Weber State University Oral History Project began conducting interviews with key Weber State University faculty, administrators, staff and students, in Fall 2007. The program focuses primarily on obtaining a historical record of the school along with important developments since the school gained university status in 1990. The interviews explore the process of achieving university status, as well as major issues including accreditation, diversity, faculty governance, changes in leadership, curricular developments, etc. ____________________________________ Oral history is a method of collecting historical information through recorded interviews between a narrator with firsthand knowledge of historically significant events and a well-informed interviewer, with the goal of preserving substantive additions to the historical record. Because it is primary material, oral history is not intended to present the final, verified, or complete narrative of events. It is a spoken account. It reflects personal opinion offered by the interviewee in response to questioning, and as such it is partisan, deeply involved, and irreplaceable. ____________________________________ Rights Management All literary rights in the manuscript, including the right to publish, are reserved to the Stewart Library of Weber State University. No part of the manuscript may be published without the written permission of the University Librarian. Requests for permission to publish should be addressed to the Administration Office, Stewart Library, Weber State University, Ogden, Utah, 84408. The request should include identification of the specific item and identification of the user. It is recommended that this oral history be cited as follows: Allred, Gordon T., an oral history by Ruby Licona, 7 March 2014, WSU Stewart Library Oral History Program, University Archives, Stewart Library, Weber State University, Ogden, UT. iii Gordon T. Allred March 7, 2014 Gordon and Sharon Allred March 7, 2014 Abstract: The following is an interview with Dr. Gordon T. Allred conducted on March 7, 2014 by Ruby Licona. Also present is Stacie Gallagher, the video technician. Dr. Allred discusses his career at Weber State from 1963 to 2011 as a professor of English. RL: Good morning. Today is March 7, 2014, and we are in the Waterstradt Room at the Stewart Library at Weber State University. We are talking today with Gordon Allred, who joined the faculty here in 1963, but actually joined the Weber community as a toddler. So, we are going to have a delightful time talking to him about some of his adventures as a child and then later his impressions as an adult. Good morning and thank you for coming in to talk with us for the Oral History Program. I mentioned that you came here as a toddler. Both of your parents were on the faculty at Weber State, your mother, Pearl Allred and your father M. Thatcher Allred joined the faculty in 1931. So that means you as a fairly young child would have been here roaming around in diapers. GA: Yes, indeed. They both came and joined the faculty at the same time. RL: Did they? Oh, I was looking at a book that had them divided up, one said 1921 and one 1931. So they both came in 1931. Where did they come here from? GA: Well, you want me to launch with a little explanation of where they came from and what you’re talking about now? RL: Sure. GA: Well, I’ll just read from some written info I’ve assembled. If you want to interrupt, 1 don’t hesitate. I arrived at Ogden at the tender age of six months. My father Thatcher obtained his MA in speech and drama at the University of Iowa in 1930. He and my mother Pearl graduated some years earlier from the Utah State University, then known as the AC – Agricultural College. Both were hired by Dr. Leland H. Monson, Thatcher in Speech and Drama, later becoming chair of the Speech and Drama Department for many years, and Pearl in English. She also worked part time for the Carnegie Free Library, giving weekly book reviews a few years later. RL: So you were indoctrinated fairly early, weren’t you? GA: Yes indeed! Weber College was located then, and during my early adult years as a student, on the old downtown campus in the quad just below Lester park, which was in turn below Madison Grade School. Many of the classes, including those taught by Leland Monson and my parents, were in the Moench Building across the street on Jefferson. That building contained the well-known Moench Auditorium and was the place where my father ultimately directed most of his plays – about seventy, as I recall. He also established the Ogden Community Theater which included faculty and members of the Ogden community along with the students. I could always tell when play openings were hovering, incidentally, because rehearsals would run later and later under my father’s perfecting hand sometimes until three in the morning. And opening night many of our household items would often appear on stage. That was the sure cue that we were ready to go. RJ: In the chapter that you did in the Weber College History, you talk about hiding 2 among the curtains on the stage. Were they Purple velvet, as you recall? GA: No. Dark blue. Anyway I did that on a number of occasions, and drew the curtains quite often when no one was around. RL: Can you smell the dust? GA: Yes, definitely – still can. And the sound! The curtains would open like great flowing wings! And the feel of the waxed drawing ropes in the palms of my hands! Our stage was only the size of a large living room, but I remember and feel those things vividly after lo these four score years. RL: And you remember the plays as they were presented? GA: By no means all of them or the exact sequence but a number of them. At times the stage also hosted other productions – our neighborhood kindergarten performance of an animal fair of sorts, and I was a seagull. RL: Jonathan Livingston? GA: Hey, that’s good! But this was a bit before his time. The children, however, each functioned as a different animal, and my dad actually drove with me all the way to Salt Lake to purchase my own special outfit. But on the big night as we were all assembling in our variegated costumes behind the great curtains, I thought I heard someone in the audience calling my name. Consequently, I parted my way through them and called out loudly, “Was someone calling my name?” Only muffled laughter. “Hmm, that’s funny,” I persisted. “I thought I heard someone calling me!” More laughter. RL: No doubt your father was calling you back from behind the curtain. 3 GA: Well, he wasn’t actually involved in this one. It was strictly a kindergarten level. Supervised by our loving teachers Childs and Thomas, but somehow they managed to retrieve me and get the show underway with plenty of prancing and dancing and lively animal interaction. Even now, however, I sometimes hear that voice calling me, “Oh, Goorrdy!!” Maybe that should have been the beginning of my “calling”, of my career as an actor. Others have suggested that teachers are all actors of various sorts and that the classroom and the student are their audience. The faculty in those days numbered only 16 or 17 members, along with some of the staff. This was the Depression Era, but my parents were both teaching as mentioned. My mother got a little less than my father. I think she got $1,500 a year, and he got $1,600. Of course a dollar was worth about 30 times what it is now, and with my parents’ combined income I was never aware of any deprivation. We seemed to get along quite well. RL: What about your contact with the college presidents? GA: I don’t remember exactly how the sequence went with Weber’s presidents. I know there was President Creer and President Aaron Tracy, then fairy early in the game, Henry Aldous Dixon came in. RL: Yes, he was only here originally for a couple of years, left and then was back for quite a long time. GA: Yes, and he was regarded fondly by several of the faculty children as Uncle Aldous. We lived in a little frame home on 24th Street, just up from St. Joseph’s Catholic Church in the 500 block. Some of the faculty I remember well along with 4 their children included Roland and Helen Parry, living nearby, J. Clair and Florence Anderson, both Roland and J. Clair in music, Walter Buss in geography and his wife, Cluster Nilsson in English, and Wally and Grace Baddley. Wally was actually the superintendent of buildings and grounds. Their son Brent and I became close friends beginning about one year of age, living there in that little quadrangle, and we were later missionary companions for six months in Eastern Canada, up on Lake Nippising. We had some interesting experiences there. Wally Baddley was actually, as I say, Superintendent of Buildings and Grounds and on one occasion, during our childhood days, Brent and I managed to sneak into the Moench through the basement window and found ourselves there in a science lab, face-to-face with an actual skeleton. That was quite an experience for two young lads about four or five years of age, to encounter this ghastly, grinning skeleton. RL: You got what you deserved. GA: We did. Wally was not too happy with the situation. He was highly dedicated and well organized, but sometimes a bit grouchy and outspoken. And he definitely was in this case. On the other hand, during our high school days, he was very helpful financially. He provided Brent and me jobs watering and mowing the campus lawns with only hand-powered mowers. Weber had a Japanese gardener named Tak, I remember, and his bit of unfailing advice to us was, “Arways oir raun moler eby time fo mow”. I think that was the extent of his English, so we dutifully always “oiled the lawn mowers every time before mowing.” Wally also provided Brent and me jobs checking coats at the college dances, a chance to make two and a half 5 dollars for a three hour evening. RL: That was high pay. GA: Yes, that was good pay then. But we always envied the lucky college students who got the beautiful babes while we just checked their coats. Our little home on 24th contained only one bedroom and a sleeping porch along with kitchen, living and dining rooms, and was located next to a somewhat larger dwelling which had been converted into a kindergarten. It was one conducted by two motherly ladies (I can still see their faces clearly) Mrs. Thomas and Mrs. Childs, both of whom were very dedicated but gentle, and always addressed us in sweet motherly tones. Among our activities was an art class for which we brought smocks to protect our clothing and painted by use of easels and water colors. I myself was dedicated to landscapes, especially distant purple mountains, and on one occasion I had just completed a rendering of which I felt exceedingly proud, which is always a dangerous condition, only to have a little girl named Gloria Todd maintain quite vociferously that my effort looked silly and that mountains weren’t purple. I didn’t take criticism very well in those days, and I hope I’ve become a little more receptive, but I responded quite impulsively by sloshing another purple mountain on Gloria’s face. She just sat there in a state of absolute daze for a moment, and I can remember vividly that face as if it were melting, and then realizing the awfulness of what I’d done. Bolting out the back way, I ran home, locked the door and hid under my parents’ bed. The bed was a kind of sanctuary – not only for me, but at times for other faculty children. One in particular was Darrold Monson, son of Dr. Leland Monson, 6 who was the English Department Chair and College Division Head and who had hired my parents, as mentioned. Darrold had a special affinity for mischief and then sanctuary in our domicile under the bed. When summoned home at eventide Darrell would actually cling onto the springs when his older sister Dolores came to collect him, requiring her to prod him out, sometimes with our mop. Fortunately that sometimes wet mop in the face discouraged him and eventually Dolores prevailed and would take him home by the nape of his neck. Our faculty children in general were quite mischievous, and I remember a man coming by almost daily on a chestnut-colored horse to visit someone living a house or two down the street. I had the impression even at that young age that it was some lady friend who maybe he shouldn’t be visiting. For some reason he always left the horse there untethered, even though there were metal rings in the curbing in those days for attaching such animals. We as mischievous young lads would come out of the back alley and pelt the poor horse in the flanks with pebbles. It was not a case of sadism or cruelty as I remember, simply curiosity as to how much that horse would whinny and prance. At one time, however, somebody became a little too vigorous, and the horse neighed wildly, reared up and went galloping off down 24th Street past the Catholic church with several of us running along gleefully behind. The last I remember was the sight of that chestnut horse running through the red light on Washington Blvd. Luckily, there wasn’t as much traffic in those days, back 80 years ago, but I remember that well. I remember, too, as a small lad entering St. Joseph’s church to see what was happening, but no one was there. All was very quiet and enchanting. Timidly I 7 made my way down the long aisle past paintings of saints along the walls. Eventually I reached the dias in front with its statue of the Savior and the rows of burning votive candles. Then, almost hypnotized, I approached and blew them out. Then I whirled and dashed back down the aisle and out into the noonday sun. But again, there was no intent to do evil; I simply thought that was what you do with candles. When you have candles on birthday cakes, you blow them out and so I blew the church candles out. I hope they weren’t prayer candles and some poor people aren’t devoid of their salvation because of my mischief. The old campus itself as a school is long gone, all of it gradually transferred to the present impressive establishment. A number of the buildings including the Moench have been demolished and replaced by condominiums. The Weber Gymnasium with its clattering metal fire escape along the back and indoor pool where I learned to swim at age six, are also gone, having been replaced by Gold’s Gym, now under renovation. The great concrete smoke stack next to it remains and probably will into the millennium. Our little home on 24th went long ago, replaced consecutively by an LDS Institute, BYU Extension Center and now for many years a family History Center. I’ve always thought, in fact, if the little home of my boyhood had to go, nothing could be more appropriate than a Family History Center. My wife, Sharon, in fact, still does some of her beloved genealogy work down there, and when she comes home late at night I sometimes say, “Well, honey, which room were you in tonight – the living room, kitchen, or in my bedroom?” My bedroom was also a sleeping porch. I can remember that my other insisted on my taking my nap there, and I was 8 very much distressed overt that because my friends could be playing around outside, shouting and having a great time. She got the best of me, however, by saying, “Well, you go in and take a nap, but if you’ll be a good boy, close your eyes and go to sleep, you can wake up as soon as you want to!” Somehow that actually did it, despite my sense of amusement. RL: I think you didn‘t put much over on your mother, did you? GA: No. That dear soul was a bit tricky at times. RL: You attended Weber on the old campus, is that correct? GA: Yes, and that campus continued for some years after I left. However, if offered a number of teachers as mentors and friends including Leland H. Monson, who sponsored a national debate contest that was the largest in the nation. My debate partner, Kent Neilsen and I were fortunate enough to win second place in one of them. Some of my friends also attended Leland’s debate class at the college and made several trips in that regard to various parts of the West including California. At times the faculty – our so-called chaperones – would drive together leaving us to our own devices along the way. The devices included shot guns and .22's with which our young debaters, some of whom were girls, would engage in the shooting of jack rabbits or at least at jack rabbits, which became almost as much a part of the adventures as the tournaments themselves. Among other teachers and mentors were my parents, Dr. Larry Evans, a wit and intellect from whom I took both journalism and English, who along with Mae Welling encouraged me to make an LDS mission part of my education. This advice 9 I followed after my two years at Weber. Another faculty member who contributed to our hunting proclivities was a sweet and kindly lady by the last name of Ogden who taught typing on the old upright typewriters. Today, this seems like we were back in the Stone Age. We would type away quite dutifully, but on stormy days in the fall we would gaze longingly out the large windows toward the Great Salt Lake, about 20 miles away, and see the storm moving in. Then at such times we’d say, “Oh, Miss Ogden, look at that terrific storm out there. The ducks are going to be flying in any minute. Can’t we be excused; we’ll make up our typing later?” And she would say, “Well, all right boys, I guess so. But don’t forget to bring me a duck or two when you come back.” She was a dear soul, and very charming. Another lady I remember very well was Lydia Tanner who ran the school cafeteria, and was well known in the community as an excellent cook.. Nearly all the dishes in those days cost five or ten cents. About six of them and you’d have a full meal. My favorite dessert was bread pudding with hard sauce, and for thirty-five cents total we could be quite warmed and filled. The most remarkable and perhaps influential of my professors and mentors was Dr. Jennings (Jay) Olson, but I’ll say more about that further on. Weber was known in those days for its social clubs – none of which were national but quite distinctive and memorable in their various ways. Some of the women’s versions included La Dianeda and Otyokwa, and among those for the men, Excelsior and Phoenix – the former, Excelsior, known for their partying and carousing and the latter erroneously as sissies or “The Sisters”. This was because 10 it included most of the prospective or returned missionaries and because they garnered all of the awards in the humanities and the arts. However, they also won all the athletic contests as well – which included baseball, football, basketball, boxing, wrestling and swimming – the whole thing. We won nearly all of them. We were also among the stalwart hunters of whom I have spoken. Romance at Weber was high and included such dances as the Phoenix Snowball, as Christmas approached. I can remember ordering corsages from Jimmy’s Flower Shop just down the street by the Ogden Theater. The white orchid was ideal for $7.50. The dance was held in the dance hall adjacent to the gymnasium where my pal Brent and I had checked coats in our earlier days of envy, but now we could actually squire charmers of our own. Center stage was a gigantic cotton snowball covered with glitter on a turn table, with music by Shorty Ross and his orchestra. Shorty played a vibraharp – some kind of xylophone if I remember correctly. During that time it was my good fortune to date some fine young women, and even more following my return from the Canadian Mission while attending the University of Utah. One such individual was Sharon Wallace, whom I first dated when she was seventeen and attending her senior year at Ogden High School. I was an old man of twenty-two. Despite her marked appeal it was, I decided, the classic case of robbing the cradle. Sharon apparently thought so too, but always prayed she would find “someone just like Gordon Allred, “ only someone a lot younger and still fun, not so old and serious. As it turned out, she ultimately found someone far too much like Gordon Allred and has had to live with him ever since. But that was not until after my return from the army two years later. 11 In the meantime Sharon had attended and graduated from Weber Junior College, and starred in several of my father’s plays, receiving the college’s Actress of the Year award. Consequently, she and my father had developed a fond and admiring relationship. I can remember that in one of his letters to me while I was in Japan with the U.S. Army, my father strongly recommended that upon my return I waste no time in “Paying that darling young Sharon a visit.” That visit occurred, in fact, somewhat unexpectedly the day after my arrival. It was a Sunday morning in June and I entered the foyer of our ward, to be greeted by a beautiful, glowing girl in a yellow dress. Reaching out, she offered a warm hand clasp, exclaiming “Welcome home, stranger.” Sharon always has been embarrassed at using such a cliché. Speaking of clichés, however, it was “music to my ears” and I remember thinking, “Wow, she certainly has grown up.” On my way home that day a voice kept repeating, “You’re going to marry that girl.” However, my alter ego would reply, “Oh, you just got home from Japan; you’ve been away for eighteen months. She’s a beautiful girl and has grown up a lot, but you don’t just automatically think you’re going to marry her.” That voice, however, actually repeated itself about six times and I thought, “Alright, I’d better call her up and see if she’s still willing to go out with me. We went on a drive up Ogden Canyon, around Pine View Reservoir, and that was how it all started over again. Four months later we were married, on October 26 in the Salt Lake Temple, and it’s been life’s greatest experience for old GTA ever since. Some of those that were employed at Weber over the years from our family include: M. Thatcher Allred – for 37 years was a full professor, after whom the M. 12 Thatcher Allred Theater is named. He was known as Mr. Theater by colleagues. Pearl Allred was a full and part-time teacher for about 25 years. Gordon T. Allred, Ph.D and full Professor of English teaching 48 years. Sharon W. Allred received her B.A. in English Literature and her Certificate of Education, and was head of Operations for the College of Education for 15 years. Amy Allred Shaw, our daughter, was School Services assistant director; Kathy Allred Junk was Theater Arts Department Secretary and later office manager for Student Activities. Anthony T. Allred, Ph.D., full Professor of Marketing is in about his 17th year of teaching. By the time of his retirement that many or more years from now, Weber State University will have seen, I hope happily, approximately 100 continuous years of Allred involvement. RL: It’s hard to believe that Tony has been here seventeen years, because I remember giving him a tour of the library when he first arrived on campus as a faculty member. GA: Here’s an interesting little side bit: Each of the three Allred professors have had the middle name of Thatcher. I won’t go into the history of that name, but my father was Moses Thatcher Allred. He didn’t particularly like the name Moses, so he went always by M. Thatcher Allred. I’m Gordon Thatcher Allred. Tony is Anthony Thatcher Allred, and he has a son, Nicholas, whose middle name is Thatcher, and who thinks he may also want to go into Business Education. I informed our good former University President Ann Milner, of that fact, one time, during the Henry Aldous Dixon awards gathering, suggesting that she would definitely have to hire him some day. We have a little family saying, at least I do, it’s rather corny: “Our 13 name may be Allred, but we bleed Purple.” Among those people I know who have had special impact on Weber, have been the following English Department heads: Dr. Leland Monson (also Division Head during much of that time), Bob Mikkelson, Levi Peterson (one of the early department Ph.D.’s instrumental in my obtaining my own doctorate and encouraging my writing and publishing efforts), Floyd Woodfield, Gerald Grove (veteran AF fighter pilot in WWII and Korean War, flying 250 missions in the Corsair), Candadai Seshachari, Tom Burton, and Kathy Herndon. Other significant colleagues and students include Dr. Reed Swenson, longtime coach and P.E. professor, and close friend of my father after whom Swenson Gym is named; Dr. Stephen Stanford, Social Sciences; Dr. Merlin Cheney, a longtime friend and Director of the English Master’s Program; Clarisse Hall, (going back a long time), the early-day Registrar on the Downtown Campus who was the sister of George Hyde, the college plumber. I remember seeing George’s besmeared face emerging from his plumbing efforts out of the manholes at times. He sometimes went hunting with us; Dr. LaVon Carrol, member of the English Department and Utah Poet of the Year; Dr. Victoria Ramirez, talented friend in the Department and occupant of the adjoining office for many years; Dr. Robert Hogge, retired Air Force Colonel, whom I helped hire on at Weber where he continued until his retirement 24 years later. Bob is my close friend and mentor and a teacher of great diversity of classes; Dr. Mikel Vause, former student and still teacher in the Department, noted mountaineer who has published quite widely and nearly lost his life on several occasions. 14 Dr. Evan Memmott, Head of the Audio-Visual Department in the College of Education, was a devoted friend and next door neighbor, and we often regarded his family of nine children as our own children, and our own eleven as his. He and I often joked about making a tunnel between our houses, which would be especially convenient after a heavy winter snowfall. He was a conference wrestling champion, and I worked out with him for many years. Sometimes I could do pretty well because I was ten years younger and engaged in weight-lifting at the time. But if he ever got me in a hold called the “figure four”, there was no hope, and I soon surrendered. His passing from a rare form of leukemia was indeed saddening. I was his ward bishop at the time and was profoundly affected by that. Dr. Richard Sadler, Chair of the History Department and Dean of the College of Social Sciences, was another fine colleague. I had his wife Claudia and several children in my classes, and he had several of mine in his own. It was quite a nice exchange. The following prominent professors should also be of interest and who attended some of my classes. Dr. Gene Sessions, whose middle name was Allred. We always greeted each other as “cuz – “How you doing, cuz?” I think we’re third cousins. He was in my Biographical Writing class with his wife, Shantal. Dr. Alton Davis, Political Science Department, who attended several of my classes to assist his son, Brad, who suffered from terminal lung disease. Dt. Larry Doman, Chair of the Languages Department, who attended several of my classes and directed out quarter-long Studies Abroad program in Spain at which I taught, about thirty years ago. Dr. George Crawford, Dean of Business and Economics. Dr. Casseel Burk, Dean of Education. Dr. Jennings (Jay) Olson, philosophy program, mentioned 15 previously. I didn’t ever have him in classes, but I wouldn’t have been able to teach him much. Not that he was proud, but I knew him very well personally and he directed the Honors program for several years, and always did everything in superabundance. Jay was the only true genius I ever knew personally. Upon Jay’s move from upper 25th Street to South Ogden some of my sons and I spent several days transferring his library to his new double garage and basement. It numbered more than twenty thousand volumes, all read cover to cover and marked in color code of red, green and blue. He was a pillar of physical fitness, running great distances and pressing massive weights, also traversing the world engaging in acts of aid and uplift of which few people were aware. When he first began teaching on the old campus I took two of his classes. Sharon took, I think, 35 hours from him and was very impressed with the man, as I was. While on the present campus he contracted a severe, degenerative nerve disease, but he forged on valiantly to the end in his late seventies. It was my great honor to speak at his funeral. Jay had always been a great favorite of my parents and was a source of Christ-like uplift in their passing. Following our marriage Sharon and I enrolled at the University of Utah where I obtained my master’s degree in journalism with a minor in English. During that period we both worked half-time, she as a doctor’s receptionist and I an associate editor for the old Improvement Era, forerunner of the Ensign. I then enrolled in a doctoral program at Chicago’s Medill School of Journalism but abandoned it after a year for employment as a writer with the U. S. Forest Service near my home in Ogden. Four years later I joined the Weber English Department. 16 This latter was an amazingly simple process, hardly like today when 800 people apply for consideration. I was walking along outside the Forest Service Building, feeling I’d come to something of a dead end there. It was a good job in many ways, but I was looking for other options, and there was Leland Monson walking up to me, very fortuitously, and in his very articulate, precise way of speaking, he said, “Gordon, I want you to come teach in the English Department at Weber College.” That was about how hard it was, and I accepted! His request was based not only on my previous schooling and articles I had published with the Era, but also in the men’s outdoor market, and my book, Kamikaze, on the life of a Japanese suicide pilot. It was a one-time best seller and translated into several languages. In 1963 I began my forty-eight year career at what eventually became Weber State University. At the onset I was given our two advanced freshman English courses containing an outstanding group of students, including prominent author Dean Hughes, who is the most prolific author I’ve ever known. Other courses I taught early on included Intro to Fiction and Intro to Literature, Beginning and Advanced Fiction Writing, Biographical Writing and seminars on a number of modern authors including Ray Bradbury, Wallace Stegner, Bernard Malamud, Ernest Hemingway and various others. Incidentally, by interesting coincidence, just the other day I received very nice letters from Marilyn Diamond and Leanna Riddle of the Honors Department, who had been with Kay Brown and my wife Sharon in one of my Biographical Writing classes. I also received one from Kay who was previously our department secretary. 17 Ten years into my program at Weber I received a full professorship on the strength of my authorship and publishing, but was feeling the growing need to obtain a doctorate in Creative Writing. Few universities were offering one and all of them were demanding two, even three languages (in the case of Iowa). I decided to try my old alma mater the University of Utah, where I’d been for a good may years, but I didn’t think it was likely. I sent a letter to the head of the department, Dr. Kenneth Eble, and got one by return mail that read, “Dear Gordon, by interesting coincidence we are just in the process of formulating a doctoral program in creative writing and you need to have another major to go along with it. Please write and let us know what you would like.” I of course was delighted and promptly wrote a reply of about five pages single-spaced on my little Remington typewriter. If he had taken me up on it, my entire program probably would have probably required five years instead of the actual three to complete. Happily as well I was able to substitute a lengthy paper on characterization for the language requirement, which is all too often a mere hurdle with most doctorates. Anyway, I remember clearly that letter from Ken and working out what eventually became an excellent creative writing doctorate with a modern literature combination, one I ultimately completed with a 4.90 grade point – all A’s except for one B. The program ended with a three-hour oral which went well, and included a couple of interesting incidents. One of the committee members whom I had never met despite my best efforts, merely smoked a large meerschaum pipe throughout the entire proceeding until the air was literally blue. Asked at the end if he had any 18 questions, he merely shook his head and continued puffing away. That was it! The rest of the exam had been quite challenging but nobody was trying to throw me any curveballs. It was all very fair and worthwhile. We came to one little problem toward the end, however. The final oral is supposed to be a “defense of dissertation”, which in this case was my novel called Starfire, which had already actually been accepted for publication and had won first prize in the Utah Fine Arts Contest for Novel of the Year. Consequently the oral focused on classes in modern lit which I had developed and taught at Weber State during the doctoral along with an extensive annotated bibliography of one hundred books and about that many periodicals. Consequently after some discussion about the dissertation which already had pretty impressive credentials, the then department Chair Jim Fife said, “Here’s what we’ll do, Gordon. You take your dissertation in hand, move over to the corner of the room, and get a good grip on it. Then the rest of us will line up and try to wrench it away from you and that will be your defense of dissertation.” Big laugh all around, and I decided things were going pretty well. Shortly afterward I was asked to leave the room and wait out in the hall while they made their big decision. I did as directed, but only waited for five minutes or so before the entire committee filed out and came walking down the hall with my Committee Chair Hal Moore in the lead. Thrusting out his hand he clasped my own and said, “Congratulations, Dr. Allred!” Quite a moment! Others offered similar kudos, and last of all came Ken Eble, former department chair, who had written me that first compelling letter three years 19 earlier. “Well, Gordon,” he exclaimed, “We got quite a lot out of you didn’t we?” “I surely hope so,” I laughed, and knew that I had given it my best. All told I had devoted 45 hours to my masters and 112 hours for the doctorate, not including the just-mentioned related classes developed and taught at Weber. I had also logged in 45 hours on the doctorate at the Medill School of Journalism which I later abandoned as too far removed from my creative writing predilections. During my 48 years at Weber State I have had about 20,000 students and spilled an estimated 18 miles of red ink on papers, living to my last name. Among my most interesting and challenging eras there, in addition to the beginning years, involved the return of a number of retired military personnel, primarily officers from World War II. Included among them have been the following, all of whom wrote very effectively about their experiences. A major named Glen Fleek, who was marooned with several other men in the far north and eventually rescued via snow cat. They had undergone quite a dramatic several days in the wilderness. In his pre-war days, at one time in lower South America somewhere in Chile, he went swimming off the coast without a life-preserver, just swimming out into the sea. Along the way he was hailed by two men in a boat who advised him to climb in with them because the water was full of sharks. Later they dined together, and he discovered that one of them was a man named Zane Grey, popular author of American Westerns. Another student was John Christy, who had lost his wife and two children one wintry night on the highway when struck, of all things, by an ambulance. He had fought in three different wars, World War II, Korea, and Vietnam. Upon being 20 released from Korean prison and dragging himself across the Demilitarized Zone, he looked back and gave the North Korean guards the fickle finger. He was in Cuba at the time of Fidel Castro and escaped by boat with a fellow by the name of Errol Flynn. Another student was Colonel John Jones from North Ogden. He was a bomber pilot over Germany and Vietnam and was shot down by so-called friendly fire over Cambodia in a storm. He somehow dragged himself from the plane, but doesn’t remember how, and lay in a coma for several days in an area infested by four different types of venomous snakes, perhaps the greatest concentration of deadly reptiles in the world. He was finally discovered by natives who somehow carted him back to the military base across the canals, accidentally dumping him into them at times, and fishing him out again. Once rescues, he was found to have 26 broken bones. We became good friends and he visited us several times at my home here in Ogden. Another was a retired major named Jimmie Rees, who, I believe, was the first woman military pilot. She turned down an offer to become a movie star for that opportunity with our Air Force – a very tough but also charming, talented lady, and we also became close friends. I also remember Colonel Ed Hansen, who took several of my classes, graduated from Weber and began teaching high school in Davis County. He returned to my office one day a year or so later, and when I asked how he was doing, he replied, “Better.” “Oh, are you not well?” I asked. “I’m fine. I’m just better. Isn’t that what it’s all about?” 21 Following is a listing of main awards during my 48 years at Weber that may be appropriate for a history of this nature: (1) Doctorate in Creative Writing and Modern Literature, University of Utah (2) Honorary Doctorate of Humanities, Weber State University, 2012 (3) Utah Author of the Year, League of Utah Writers, 1990 (4) First Place Utah Fine Arts Creative Writing Contest for novel Starfire; Second Place Poetry (5) Professor of the Year, Weber State University (6) Weber State University Presidential Distinguished Professor, 1980-81 (7) Outstanding Professor, Weber State University Students (8) Weber State University Award for Creative Writing (9) Lowe Award for Innovative Teaching (10) Henry Aldous Dixon Award for Teaching and Service (11) Ogden Mayor’s Award in the Arts for Literature (12) Purple Paw Award for Excellent Service, Weber State Alumni Association (13) Hemingway Faculty Vitality Award, Hemingway Faculty Development Trustees (14) Phi Kappa Phi Scholastic Honor Society (15) Who’s Who in the West Author of many articles and short stories plus 22 books including Kamikaze, former 22 best-seller on the life of a suicide pilot; and one that I treasure almost as much as my doctorate is the Fifth Degree Black Belt in Kenpo Karate, which taught me a lot about life, among other things. Throughout my association with Weber, this university has enlarged from about 500 students on the old campus to, I think, Ruby, we’re at about 26,000 now, is that right? RL: We’re right at about that figure. GA: And during my 48 years here I was blessed to have found my work – the vocation one does best and loves most. It is what I urge others including my students to strive for and where they can make their greatest contribution. I continually encourage them as well to consider the old truth that attitude if everything, that learning and progress may be everlasting and that love is the greatest virtue. Following are added names of significance during my tenure at dear old Weber. Roland and Helen Parry were like uncle and aunt to me and my older sister, Joan, who I call “Nan”, and later our younger sister, Penny. We were neighbors on the old campus during my childhood, and again several years later in a little faculty enclave in upper Ogden during World War II and beyond, that included the Baddleys and Clair and Ruth Johnson. Helen and Roland gained considerable recognition for their All Faces West pageant staring famed Austrian baritone Igor Gorin as Brigham Young, which production my father sometimes narrated. Dr. Clair Johnson was also in the music department at Weber and earned his doctorate while living in our upper neighborhood. 23 My sister Joan, later a talented novelist and poet, acted in two or three of my father’s plays including Dear Brutus, with him as one of the actors. When she runs off into the Enchanted Forest in search of him, not knowing where he has gone, a little four-year-old in the audience burst out blubbering loudly. I thought my sister and father were both lost forever! I still have in my attic the dress that she wore in that play. She also acted in my dad’s production of Hayfever, and artist Lee Parkinson was so impressed with her performance, charm and colorful regalia, that he asked her to pose for a painting, which he later sold. Some members of the community acting in my father’s plays included Julian Stephens and a Mr. Prothero (whose first name I don’t remember) of the Ogden Police Department. Others included Catherine Northrop, Jim Andrews, and Russell “Soapy” Thorson, who called Joan Sugar Plum and me Deep Stuff. One Christmas morning he dropped by for a visit with my parents bringing me a mysterious present which he accidentally left in his car. When I kept pestering him to retrieve it for me, he mischievously protested, “I can’t right now. I’ve got a bone in my leg.” It was all very frustrating, but eventually he relented and obtained said gift which was a G-man gun that grated out yellow and blue sparks when you pulled the trigger. Soapy performed in at least one Hollywood movie as an early western cavalry commander, and Jim Andrews did some singing for the Alvino Ray Orchestra. The plays my wife Sharon starred in at Weber during the time she was there included Antigone, Joan of Lorraine, Masque of Kings, There Shall Be No Night, Pride and Prejudice and You Can’t Take it With You. She received Weber’s 24 Actress of the Year award, and later joined the staff of the Education Department. My father Thatcher produced the first play in the new Browning Fine Arts Center, A Man for All Seasons, which I thought was appropriate for him. Among the Weber faculty members performing in Dad’s plays were the following: Dean Hurst, John Elzey, Bob Mikkelson, Farrell Collett, H.E.D.Redford, Jennnings Olson and the future Ogden Mayor, Merle Allen. Our parents spent quite a lot of time entertaining their students in our home, especially the one on upper Lake Street during my teenage years. Consequently my sisters and I became well-acquainted with a number of them. Among them were Dan Bailey, Aaron Roylance, who assisted in our various moves around town, Tony Belliston, and Wayne Bundy, a frequent family visitor and friend along with his wife the former Louise Lambert. My father was fondly known by colleagues as Mr. Theater and the M. Thatcher Allred Theater in the Browning Fine Arts Center was named in his honor, thanks especially to devoted and accomplished younger colleagues, John Elzey and Leonard Rowley. RL: O.K. You’ve filled us in quite a bit on Weber, your early days, and people that you’ve known. I’ve got quite a list here of presidents that you’ve worked with during your career here. I was wondering if you had any particular memories, starting with President Bill Miller, who was here from 1953 to 1971, so he would have been the one that was here when you first came. GA: I remember Bill well, and he was very kind and supportive. I remember on one occasion, he was afflicted with some malady and I visited him in the hospital. He 25 was very gracious almost as if I were the one needing the kind words and outlook. I also remember President Rod Brady well. He was partly responsible for the Thatcher Allred Theater being named as it was. He is the one from whom I received the Presidential Distinguished Professor Award. That was back about 20 years ago, and it was a $3,000 award. That would easily be worth $10,000 or maybe $15,000 today. Quite a sumptuous award, and I was extremely grateful. He attended one of my Biographical Writing classes in that connection, and afterward his only suggestion was that I might consider a different seating arrangement – maybe arrange the seats in a horseshoe shape instead of the standard pattern. That was his only suggestion, and he was most generous in his praise. Henry Aldous Dixon I came to know very well. He was known as Uncle Aldous, as mentioned earlier. His son, Dave, and I were hunting companions with some of our buddies. I just knew Leland Creer and Aaron Tracy in passing. They seem to have been there rather briefly when I was a youngster on campus, but I can still see what they looked like in my mind’s eye. Others included Joe Bishop who was there for a time. I got to know him mainly through two of his sons who were students in my classes. RL: That was the time period when the president’s house burned down, is that correct? GA: I’m trying to remember. Was that Joe Bishop? . RL: I think so. GA: Yes, the house up by the Stadium. RL: Yes. 26 GA: Okay, I do remember something about that. RL: It didn’t make a big impression? GA: Well, it did. I just have a faulty memory. I don’t think it burned down to ashes, but there was a fire in there. RL: Paul Thompson and Ann Milner were the ones who were here for a substantial period. GA: I visited with Paul on several occasions and we were going up into the Cache Valley area one time for an English Department retreat. I was the member of the faculty sitting next to him at meal time and I remember going out swimming later and diving off the ten-foot diving board. He was a very pleasant, down-to-earth individual. You mentioned in addition to Paul, Ann Milner. I got to know Ann quite well. A lovely, talented lady. As I mentioned earlier I joked with her a bit about the fact that she’d have to hire my grandson, Nicholas Thatcher Allred because of his middle name, the same as his father’s, (my son Tony in the Business Department), and mine and my father’s. She was quite amused at that, or at least was kind enough to fake it. She was a fine lady and I was impressed with her performance for ten years here. RL: She certainly garnered a lot of support for Weber State. GA: She did indeed. RL: I think that’s important. Of course, as a female, I’m glad to see the first female president leaving a really good reputation when she stepped down. In your time here you talked about a lot of different students that you remember from the 27 greatest generation and so forth, but you also encountered students after several war situations. You were here during Vietnam, when some of our soldiers and military came back to a pretty dismal lack of welcome but students returning from Iraq and Afghanistan had a totally different experience. Did you see a difference in their performance as students? GA: No. I don’t know that I had that many from Vietnam or from Iraq, but the ones that I mentioned from World War II were outstanding students and all very professional writers. RL: Okay. You mentioned coming here to 500 students and now that we’ve grown to 25,000 plus. Over the years did you notice any particular changes in the students: Was there a change in their level of innocence or maturity from the earlier days to when you left here? GA: I heard some of my colleagues say that student caliber is not as high now as when I came. I’m not sure that is the case. I had a lot of good students all through that 48 years, partly, perhaps, because I’ve become a better teacher and place higher demands on them. RL: You’ve talked about the awards you’ve received and so forth. Was there any particular thing that you are particularly proud of? GA: I am probably most grateful that I had so many fine colleagues and students whom I treasured and came to regard as friends and mentors who taught me a lot – not only my teacher friends, but some of my students. I mentioned Dean Hughes whom I’m very proud of, and who has written something like a hundred different 28 novels. RL: Were you involved with any of the reorganization or with campus governance? Any things that stand out in your mind? GA: No, I wasn’t involved much in campus governance. I was on many committees at the departmental level. What I wanted to do most, however, was to teach and to write, and felt pleased by the way the two complimented each other. RL: You have seen a lot of Weber history in your time here going from divisions to departments and then the division into colleges and reorganization and so forth. You’ve also seen the different approaches in terms of the direction that Weber has gone. There seems to be a lot more town and gown cooperation and providing students for the workforce in Northern Utah and so forth. Are you pleased with what you’ve seen, or do you think things should have gone a different way? Do you have an opinion on that at all? GA: I can’t provide you with the specific examples at the moment, but my general feeling is that ‘weber has reached out and dealt with the community quite effectively. We’ve certainly had that kind of situation and positive reactions in sending students off campus and having them serve on a very practical vocational level for credit. Weber is becoming more and more part of the Ogden and greater community, and of course we have the Davis campus which is a part of that. RL: It seems like your time at Weber has certainly been a positive experience. Is there anything that you would have liked to have seen be different or is there anything that you would go back and change? 29 GA: I can’t think of anything at the moment. If you give me 24 hours I might come up with something. RL: Well, if you have to think that long it’s obviously not something that’s been bothering you. GA: I think the growth of Weber has been wonderful, and it’s become an organization we can certainly be proud of. We have a number of fine master’s programs now and I fully believe we will eventually have doctorates. We are on par in many ways not only population-wise, but otherwise with Utah State and with the University of Utah, my old alma mater, where I spent seven years in undergraduate, masters and doctorate degrees. Brigham Young, of course, is a religious institution, but we have grown to the point where I think we’re competing favorably with all these organizations. We’re attracting people that we supposed we might not attract in time past. I can’t see anything right now that I feel dissatisfied with. RL: For someone who has been here for so long, I would say that’s a pretty positive statement to make. GA: I think so. And taking it one step further I am deeply gratified to have found my work here. I remember two different times we had on campus the noted educator Max Learner, and I always thought the name Learner was appropriate for him because he took joy in learning. Anyway, he spoke of sitting around the table with his family at night discussing ideas and how important they were. He above all was the one who helped me realize that we should find our work which is the thing you know best and love most, and I was extraordinarily fortunate in finding Weber State and having definitely been handed the opportunity by my good friend, Leland Monson, 30 who made it possible. There has rarely been a time – even when I was teaching 20 hours a quarter or semester that I failed to relish the experience. Even when I arrived here in the dark hours of morning, first one on campus, when I didn’t feel a sense of expectation. I looked forward to mingling soon with students and colleagues, when I felt that there was a great sense of empathy, so I’ve urged students to acquire that same kind of thing in their own lives. Certainly, a lot of them have done so, and have become good friends of mine. I have colleagues whom I cherish and whom I can look to as mentors so it’s all been very positive. There’s never been a time when I have wished I had gone a different direction even though I have had different opportunities. I could have stayed with the Forest Service. I had different chances to teach at Utah State. At one point I had a probable opportunity to teach at the Institute across the street, but I had found my home at WSU – all that I hoped for, and have never regretted it. It’s been 48 years of pretty much sheer joy. RL: Well, I don’t think we can end on a better note than that. Thank you so much for coming to spend time with us today. GA: Thank you, Ruby. I’m honored and happy to be here with you and my wife, Sharon, my better three-fourths. RL: Thank you again. 31