Bruce Bergland

I picked up granddaughter Rebecca for her dance class to find a third dog at their house, a male bulldog that Angie is tending while Dave and another teacher (the owner) took high school graduates to the amusement park at Cedar Point in Ohio. The dog tried to dominate Sammie and freaked out Maggie, who was under a bed, and tries to hump James’s leg. Angie had him caged when I arrived. On the way to IUN I made up a Pet Detective Agency story starring Becca, Maggie, and Sammie.

Chancellor Bruce Bergland’s Retirement Reception was an elaborate affair, with all kinds of entries and hors d’oevres, at least a dozen different desserts, and free beer. George Bodmer thanked me for sending him Richard Russo’s “Straight Man” and was delighted to discover the main character to be, like him, an English professor. Stela Pudar-Hozo praised my shirt, a Christmas present, I told her, from my mother. She jokingly asked if my mother helped me buy all my clothes. I told her how in 1980 she didn’t like what I was planning to wear to my twentieth high school reunion and went with me to purchase a pin-stripe suit.

Former IU trustee Fred Eichhorn came up for the reception from Bloomington with wife Judy, who worked for the university when I first arrived in 1970. Fred was responsible for the “zero tolerance” policy that led to basketball coach Bob Knight’s dismissal after “The General” laid his hands on a student who had baited him. Chatted with state representatives Charlie Brown (his campaign posters, borrowing a line from Peanuts creator Charles Schulz, claimed “He’s a good man”) and Ed Charbonneau, who when on the Gary Centennial Committee helped secure $10,000 toward publishing “Gary’s First Hundred Years.” In turn I donated a thousand copies to schools and libraries. The committee had first approved it but then under pressure from one member wanted to divert almost all their funds toward constructing a sculpture. As the publishing deadline approached, Charbonneau assured me that if the committee didn’t give me the money, he would out of his own pocket. Fortunately, it didn’t come to that. Ed asked if I had put out any recent Shavings; I got his address and promised to send him my last two. Bobby Farag was on hand wearing a sharp Hawaiian shirt. His golf course was wiped out in the September 2008 flood, and I told him I really miss it. Bob's brother Henry wrote "The Signal: A Doo Wop Rhapsidy," which I published as volume 32. Bruce came to one of Bobby’s St. Patrick’s Day parties with Bill Staehle (who was also in attendance) early in his regime.

Chuck Gallmeier, speaking as Faculty Organization president, mentioned that he didn’t always agree with Bruce’s policies (an understatement) but respected his openness and dedication to the university. Women’s basketball coach Ryan Shelton gave Bruce an autographed basketball plus a part of the net from the team’s tournament win. IU President Michael McRobbie mentioned how Bruce set in motion discussions that culminated in a Shared Vision for the campus. He also presented proclamations from the governor naming Bruce a Distinguished Hoosier and a Sagamore on the Wabash (I got the first when I retired but not the second). Gary Mayor Rudy Clay praised the chancellor’s commitment to the city and, citing budget restraints, presented him not with a gaudy gift but a navy blue cap with Gary, IN, on the front. Bruce’s wife Cynthia and son Todd spoke; both claimed that they weren’t used to speaking to audiences but were quite moving and eloquent. When it finally was Bruce’s turn to speak, he was quite emotional. Mentioning, for example, the flood of two years ago and McRobbie’s quick response to the crisis, tears came to his eyes, causing his wife to admonish him to “Stop the flood.” Taping the event were my FACET oral history partners Aaron Pigors and Tome Trajkovski, who also put together a video biography of the outgoing chancellor.

On hand, copies of the university’s 2009 Annual Report put together by the indefatigable head of marketing Chris Sheid. He is so modest his name was nowhere on the document despite the fact that he took most photos and wrote the polished text. In a section on Publications Chris replicated the cover of Steel Shavings, volume 40, which he described as “a personal journal Lane has kept since embarking on his retirement in 2007. Despite the personal nature of the work, the periodical touches on a wide variety of interesting subjects related to Northwest Indiana, past and present.” Then he quotes me thusly: “The journal is consistent, I believe, with the overriding purpose of this series – to record everyday life. Over time, Steel Shavings has undergone numerous transformations but has consistently emphasized the social history of the family, that most fragile but resilient of institutions.” If that wasn’t enough of a pleasant surprise, Chris also included in a different section a photo of a boy holding up my Shavings volume on the history of IUN, “Educating the Region.” He had won it in September 2009 at the Fiftieth Anniversary celebration. Wonder if he’d have preferred a Frisbee or t-shirt. I emailed Chris my appreciation and congratulated him on an outstanding job.

I’m adding two more quotes when I have Steve’s students read excerpts from “Age of Anxiety” next Thursday. The first is by Ed Wistosky, who in 1948 moved to a house located next to a grocery store whose garbage attracted rats. One night he heard splashing and squealing. A rat was trying to get out of their toilet. Ed shut the lid and his wife boiled a pot of water. They scalded the rat and flushed the carcass back down the toilet. Rose Frisk went to a strip club in Calumet City with her husband and another couple. She recalled: “ A woman who I bet wweighed 300 pounds got on the stage. She had boobs down to the belly and was slinging them over her shoulder. Lord have mercy. I will never forget that as long as I live.”

In his Post-Tribune column Jerry Davich wrote: “Anne Balay, an assistant professor of English and gender studies at Indiana University Northwest, is conducting research on gay and lesbian steelworkers, who are closeted, as you could imagine if you've ever worked in a steel mill (which I have). Balay contacted me after reading my recent column on this region's third annual gay pride parade -- the column that attracted so many (differing) comments. Balay attended that parade with her gay student club at IUN, and she agrees this region is quite homophobic (obviously), and also that gay and lesbian NWI residents need to be more visible. But she's also interested in the work lives of gay and lesbian residents, and she's seeking such people to talk with -- confidentially of course -- with no names used or identifying info in her eventual book, she said. She asked if I could get the word out, so if you're interested, or know someone who may be, contact Balay at abalay@iun.edu or 980-6575. Anne thanked me for suggesting she get in touch with Davich and added: “It all adds up to an interesting section about why this region is so uptight about queers.”

The Henry Clay biography “The Essential American” by David and Jeanne Heidler mentions my great great great Uncle James Buchanan several times. In 1824 the then Congressman tried to get Andrew Jackson to name Clay Secretary of State in return for the Kentuckian’s support when the election was thrown into the House of Representatives. Jackson supporters claimed the meeting was at Clay’s initiative, but Buchanan, a Jacksonian, acted on his own. Later Clay called Alabama Senator William Rufus King a coward, which led to a duel because of King’s sensitivity about being thought of as gay because of his suspiciously close relationship with fellow bachelor James Buchanan, whom he roomed with. The authors compare Clay after the 1844 Presidential defeat to James K. Polk to a milk wagon horse unable to change his habits – or in his case unable to give up his quest for the Presidency.

I don’t usually read the daily comics but came across the phrase Occam’s Razor in the comic strip “Non Sequitor.” Citing the axiom that the simplest explanation is almost always the correct one, a character proceeds to do just the opposite when confronted by a conundrum. I first became familiar with reading Richard Russo’s “Straight Man.” The main character, Hank Devereaux, has a dog named Occam who loved to greet visitors by placing his nose in their crotch.