Authors But Not Huskies You have compiled an impressive list of authors in “100 Top Books by 100 UW Authors,” December 2006. Apparently, you limited the list to bona fide graduates or faculty. If that was your rule, you omitted several talented authors who attended but did not graduate—for example, Frank Herbert (Dune), Hank Ketcham (Dennis the Menace) and Tom Robbins (Even Cowgirls Get the Blues). In 1946, Herbert was one of only two creative writing students who had already sold any work for publication. Ketcham attended in 1938, and dropped out after one year. Robbins was a graduate student for one quarter in 1962. I would like to see a similar list of famous authors who chose not to graduate.
Chuck Watson, ’65 Richland
Editor’s Note: Herbert, Ketcham and Robbins were UW students but did not earn a degree. According to rules set for the article, alumni authors must possess a UW academic degree to be listed. For more about the criteria, see “Book Report,” December 2006.
Tunnel Vision I don’t want to rain on anyone’s Seattle parade (probably an unfortunate figure of speech given your recent record-breaking month of deluge), and I don’t want to seem churlish, but your recent “100 Top Books by 100 UW Authors” seemed, from this distance, to be very Seattle-centric. I realize you have probably been inundated by people unhappy that their own books didn’t make the “cut,” so I thought awhile before deciding to blow my own horn. It helped a great deal to have a Seattle address for that list. I have an Omaha address now, but I have published 24 books, some of them seminal in their field, several in languages other than English.
… I suspect that other people who attended the UW but have since gone far afield also were screened out even of minimal consideration when this list was compiled. After all, we all know that the UW has alumni all over the world—and you should perhaps have brought us into the selection process for this list, instead of relying mainly on a local committee.
… It was great to see my academic advisor (Communication Professor Bill Ames), and several people with whom I once worked and went to school, on the all-star team. You may, after all, have a stronger lineup than you’ve ever suspected. Life east of Snoqualmie Pass is good.
Research Professor Bruce E. Johansen, ’72, ’79 School of Communication University of Nebraska at Omaha
Children Have Literature Too [I am the] author most recently of Searching for Grizzlies and in the past [of] Seya’s Song, recipient of a Washington Governor’s Book Award. I always enjoy reading Columns and appreciate hearing what other alumni have done with their lives. So, it was with much interest that I scanned the list of authors in your celebration of 100 UW authors. While not expecting you to note any of my books, it was disappointing to see that you only had room for one children’s author. … Next time you list Husky contributions to literature, I hope you might visit the upstairs section of the University Book Store and thumb through the many offerings by UW grads.
Ron Hirschi, ’74 Port Hadlock
Editor’s Note: Two children’s literature authors were on the list—Beverly Cleary and Ken Mochizuki—as well as the young-adult literature author Deb Caletti.
Start Another List? I loved the “100 Top Books by 100 UW Authors.” Instead of writing a letter about the one UW book that was left off the list, I thought that I would start the “101-200” booklist. The UW is such an amazing and huge community of scholars, writers and thinkers that to throw any book off the list would be an intellectual sin.
One book that must be considered is Raise Hell and Sell Newspapers by Lorraine McConagy and Sharon Boswell. McConagy is the historian at the Museum of History and Industry and a UW graduate. Raise Hell and Sell Newspapers is a fascinating history of Alden J. Blethen, the Seattle Times and the formative years of Seattle. Blethen ran the Times and was a tireless Seattle booster. He was also a UW regent. True UW historians know the story of the “Blethen Bells” and what happened when the play The Colonel and His Friends was, almost, staged on campus.
I also need not remind UWAA members that all the books on the list, and many more, can be found at the University Book Store. If you do get all these books, your brain will be bigger, your loyalty to the UW will be stronger, and, if you are a UWAA member, you will get a nice rebate.
Do I smell a UWAA book club in the works? Kirk Stensvig, ’95, ’97 Seattle
Disconnected Decisions I just reviewed your list of 100 top books by 100 UW authors. While I extend my congratulations to the authors, I also detect a small hint of bias. 1) The selection committee is heavily skewed towards the arts, administration and library professionals. 2) Thus, their outcome is a lack of equal (or no) representation by business and engineering professors. I firmly believe that authors such as Wendell French, Fremont Kast, James Rosensweig and Cecil Bell, to name a few, have had more influence on the global marketplace than books about the social history of a minority group in Seattle or Everett. The … students, taught by our outstanding business and engineering faculty, who became national and world leaders are the same people that President Emmert contacts in an attempt to close our funding gap. Do you see the disconnect between the selection committee’s decisions and the needs of the UW? Professor Emeritus Robert A. Zawacki, ’73 Dept. of Management & International Business University of Colorado
Misrepresented Realities As a physician assistant in the fields of transplant and regenerative medicine I would like to comment on the December Columns article “New Generation.” I noticed at least one point of misinformation and at least one error of omission. The article states that non-embryonic (adult) stem cells “do not contribute to the growth of new cardiac muscle cells.” However, heart tissue has been developed from non-embryonic stem cells and is already being used in clinical human trials. (By the way, liver tissue has also been regenerated using non-embryonic stem cells.) In addition, I would like to add a point to the ethical cons of embryonic stem cell usage—the substantial risk of tumor development. It would be unethical to treat a patient with a method that, at present, has a high chance of causing tumors in recipients. The media has consistently misrepresented the realities of stem cell therapies—I would hate to see this publication follow in those footsteps. Alisa Cullen, ’94 West Orange, N.J. Professor Charles E. Murry responds:At present it is a matter of intense scientific inquiry as to whether adult stem cells are capable of giving rise to definitive heart muscle cells, either in a culture dish or in the heart itself. We have studied adult stem cells for over a decade and find they do not have nearly as robust an ability to form heart muscle as do embryonic stem cells. All clinical trials in cell-based cardiac repair use cell types (bone marrow or skeletal muscle) that most researchers now believe do not form heart muscle, but instead, may enhance growth of blood vessels or otherwise improve function of the remaining heart tissue. Cullen is correct that undifferentiated embryonic stem cells can form tumors when transplanted. However, when embryonic stem cells are first differentiated into heart muscle and then transplanted, we have observed no tumors in hundreds of experimental recipients. Our group, like most scientists in the field, sees adult and embryonic stem cells as providing complementary options that should be pursued in parallel.
Malthusian Logic In the December 2006 issue of Columns, my “curmudgeonly” fellow UW alumnus Richard Pelto writes to ask whether Paul Farmer’s efforts are worthwhile, indeed, even moral, when Haiti has such limited resources and a continually “breeding” population. His point is well put, but it seems to me a little short-sighted.
Pelto begins by stating Haiti was at the top of its game 200 years ago, but is now one of the poorest in the world. But Pelto fails to ask why this should be. … Why is Haiti perennially corrupt, poor and ridden with disease? He seems satisfied enough that it is.
His letter continues by describing the desperate situation in Haiti as consequence of the competing pressures of population and resources—lack of resources plus over-population spells doom for Haiti.
But to use such Malthusian logic is to cast Haitians among those wretched of the earth, for whom any effort at improvement is counterproductive, and even hurtful, rather than helpful, because, according to this logic, to save one life is to condemn 10 others to starvation. This is Haiti’s destiny.
To do so is to dismiss so much real human suffering with statistical analysis and a shift of the slide rule.
Furthermore, Partners in Health’s programs join medicine, public health and social services such as family planning, contraception and education into an overall effort to increase the health of people. These services could ease the competing pressures of resources and population by creating an educated, literate and healthy society.
It seems my fellow alum would suggest that Farmer’s efforts would be better spent doing something else, or, in light of the difficult situation in Haiti, better spent doing nothing at all.
Lucky for us, Farmer seems to have far more compassion than curmudgeonliness.
Greg Miller, ’02 Denver
College Price Tags Then and Now I was a Dust-Bowl refugee and could not come up with the $32 fall quarter tuition for my 1940 freshman year until the last day of registration. Someone told me about the National Youth Administration (NYA) program on campus for needy students (which in those days, I would guess, was at least one-third of all students). I was assigned to work two hours a day at the UW YWCA in Eagleson Hall. NYA students were paid $15 a month for 40 hours work each month. This was enough for tuition and a book or two. At 17, I lived at home and had never held a job.
Matts and Siri Djos, immigrants from Sweden, had a small restaurant, The Chalet, in the basement of Eagleson. Word got around that noon waitpeople could get a meal and 25 cents to work the lunch shift. I was hired. Gordon Hirabayashi was a co-worker.
Due to a serious illness, I missed several weeks of school and work that year, but managed to finish. In June 1941, I received an invitation from the dean of women offering a full-tuition scholarship for the next year. She dropped the offer when I (stupidly) told her I was engaged to be married. “We expect one’s husband to support his wife. And, of course, chances are a married women will not seek a career,” she said. So I did not attend what would have been my sophomore year, but worked for 35 cents an hour at various eateries to save for a return to the UW.
On Dec. 7, 1941, our nation was attacked and we went to war. When I came back to the campus, I signed up for intensive Japanese language. The professor tried to weed out women in the class, because “men do better than women at this language.” By the end of the year she asked me to help write a Japanese language textbook and to teach classes for NROTC, Marines and civilians. Then the UW was assigned a program called the Army Specialized Training Program (ASTP) for Area and Language Studies, and I taught in that. I took on the whole works and earned $150, the salary equal to that of an associate professor, and had ASTP pay as well. Altogether I earned $300 a month. All the while I continued studying for a degree and finished the three-year coursework in two years and joined the Navy.
After WWII and two babies, I returned to the UW for an M.S.W. and a teaching certificate, thanks to the G.I. Bill. What a lucky person I was! I fully support the Husky Promise program, especially since government support for education is dwindling. I have a suggestion: The tuition gift should involve work in UW departments and offices. That in itself would give students an additional gift that will serve them a lifetime. Lois Logan Horn, ’44, ’52 Seattle
Success in Spite of “Establishment” I have been waiting for decades to “comment” on my experiences paying for my education at the University of Washington and elsewhere. I received a B.A. in Spanish from the UW in 1969. In later years, at other institutions, I earned a teaching certificate and a master of environmental studies degree. I succeeded in getting an education in spite of the UW, the financial aid office, and the rest of the educational establishment. I have worked as either a teacher or a planner for several decades and plan to retire (comfortably) next year. I know that my comments will be dismissed as “sour grapes” by the privileged classes with their sense of entitlement, but here goes…
I was raised in a large, lower middle-income, working-class family in North Seattle, and there were still four younger children at home when I graduated from high school in 1963. No one in my large extended family had ever gone to college. I began working full time and delayed entering the UW because I didn’t have the money to pay for tuition. I was notified in late fall that year that Alcoa would provide tuition if I chose to attend the UW, so I started in January 1964. Unfortunately I still needed to work to pay for books and living expenses, thus my grades suffered and I lost the scholarship after two quarters. When I spoke to one of my professors about it, he said, “Why don’t you just quit working?” Duh-h-h-h…
Somehow I managed to scrape together money for tuition and books for several years while working and taking a lighter load. However, by my fifth year with only a few credits left to earn, I could no longer come up with the money for tuition. I went (once again!) to the financial aid office seeking help. I applied for a loan, and they told me that I had inflated the amount I needed (I was asking for $600). I did not own a car or even a radio or curtains for my windows. I clearly remember budgeting nickels for coffee (when coffee was 10 cents); if I skipped coffee today, I could save 5 cents and have 10 cents tomorrow for my coffee break at work. I clearly remember standing on the corner at 42nd and 15th Avenue waiting for the light to turn as I left campus one day. It was pouring rain and cold, and I was thinking how nice it would be to have another sweater to put under my coat (that literally had holes in it) and a nice pair of leather boots rather than the paper thin flats I was wearing on my freezing feet. (I now think it’s strange that I didn’t even think to wish for a warm coat!) The financial aid office finally decided they would give me $550. Of course, I had to (and did) pay it back as soon as I got a job.
A few decades later, as life was changing, I tried again to get help paying for education – this time a master’s degree. I figured the financial aid office was a lost cause, so I went to what was then the Women’s Resource Center on campus. Their first question was “Do you have children?” When I said “no,” they said, “Sorry, we can’t help you.” (So it wasn’t really a “women’s” resource center; it was a “mommy’s” resource center.) I kept working and eventually found an evening degree program at The Evergreen State College. I would leave my job in Seattle at 3:30 in the afternoon, drive to Olympia for classes from 6–10, then get home around 11:15-11:30. It took me many years, but I was finally able to finish a Master of Environmental Studies degree.
All the while that I struggled so hard to get an education, I looked around me and saw people getting scholarships who, as far as I could see, did not appear to be in any great financial need. Several scholarship recipients owned cars and took ski vacations and trips to Hawaii. And I don’t think the situation has changed much. I know of a UW professor whose house is paid for by the UW; he owns a sailboat and private airplane; and his children received scholarships for school! I know other students (who, granted, are hardworking, talented, even deserving and nice besides) who have received substantial sums of scholarship money; they, too own cars and takes ski vacations and trips to Hawaii. And I know for a fact that they are not brighter or more talented than either myself or many others I know who did not get scholarships! They are simply more fortunate.
I am absolutely delighted about the “Husky Promise.” I hope that the UW will actively recruit needy students in their early years of high school so they understand the need to qualify academically as well as financially. Unfortunately, many very bright students from low-income families see no reason to struggle if they know a college education is out of reach anyway. They and their parents need to know early on what the academic and other selection requirements are for gaining admission to the UW so they can make good choices. I hope the UW implements an aggressive program to reach out to students and parents who otherwise would not be award of the Husky Promise.
While I am really excited about the Husky Promise, I will not be donating anything to the Students First scholarship fund-raising program. Given that my experience over many years tells me that scholarships tend to be awarded not to those who truly need the help, but to those who have influential friends and know the system and how to work it, my support will go directly to specific individuals whom I know to be truly needy. My support will take the form of direct tuition payments, direct payments for books and supplies, and housing, if needed.
I should note that to the question—If you did it over again, would you do it the same why?—I answered “yes.” I would do it the same way not because I think working one’s way through school is a good way to go, but because my choices would still be the same—work and go to school, or work. I desperately want an education, and I would do it again. Barbara R. Questad, ’68, ’69 Seattle
Remembering Brings Tears I am a GI of WWII and got married after one year of pre-med at Seattle University when I found how easy college was. After two years of my wife working, I took a year off to work two jobs because we were having a planned child. I read gas meters in the daytime and drove Yellow Cab swing shift. I restarted Seattle University after a year and a summer of double employment but kept driving the cab. The GI bill paid tuition, fees and books plus a living allowance of $90. This was inadequate, hence I worked. When I entered UW Medical School in 1951 I had one quarter of GI Bill left.
The summer before I started medical school, my wife went to work at Boeing swing shift so I could take an elective arranged by me in anesthesia at Harborview. I wanted to learn block anesthesia.
When medical school started, I stared driving a cab again and my wife worked at Boeing for, by then, we had two children. My mother, who supported me emotionally but not financially, for she was a single parent with two preteens at home, died in December 1951, leaving me to become responsible for my two younger siblings. (My next brother down was a student at WSU, married with a child.) My medical school professors did not have me take the quarter final tests because of my emotional state and because they said the results could not better my grades but only lower them.
We had one more child while I was in medical school. In the spring of my junior year we had run out of money, my wife was pregnant with our fourth child, and I could not work enough at driving a cab because of the night work we had in school. So I talked to the dean of medicine about withdrawing to work two jobs to catch up financially and to re-enter the following years. He wrote me a note to take to Mr. Waistrom, the UW Comptroller. I had never withdrawn from medical school so I thought this was the normal way it was done. His secretary, a Mrs. Rose, read the note and ushered me to see Mr. Waistrom. He was a very kind gentleman who discussed my life, my service time (I was a S/Sgt in Intelligence), my marriage, my responsibilities and my financial situation. Then he excused himself and returned a few moments later with a check for $1,000. I remonstrated that there was no way I could pay it back. His response “Any person who wants to get an education as much as you have demonstrated is most deserving of help by this University.” I will always remember that moment and even now I am in tears as I recall that day. When I got home to tell my wife she also was in tears for her wish was, “For all my dreams to come true.”
I asked Dr. Moll, who was in charge of the scholarship funds at the very new medical school, … why I had never received any aid. He admitted “with the responsibilities that I had, he never expected me to be able to continue.” Then he arranged for me to granted $1,000 to continue. That plus my wife working swing shift at Boeing was enough for me to complete my studies and later my wife quit working to care for all our children.
My late wife and I discussed many times: How did we do it? We decided the philosophy my father taught his two older children was true, “You can be anything you want to be if you will sweat (his word for hard work) and ask others to help you (for if you do not ask others to help you, you deny them the pleasure of helping).”
This is a long story that I have only told a few people and then only parts of it. But now that I am retired after 43 years in family practice your question gave me the chance to tell it.
Alan L. W. Gunsul, ’55 Burien Editor’s Note: For more than 750 alumni comments on how they paid for their college education, please see UWalum.com.
Letters to the editor are encouraged. Brief letters are more likely to be published; longer letters may be edited due to lack of space. Please include a daytime phone number and send all correspondence to: Editor, Columns Magazine, 1415 N.E. 45th St., Seattle, WA 98105. You may send e-mail to or send a fax to 206-685-0611. Correction: In the December 2006 article “100 Top Books by 100 UW Authors,” we should have listed Professor Peter Ward as the first author of Rare Earth.
