Some are wetlands experts assessing the environmental implications. Some are veterinarians trying to save and rehabilitate the oil-saturated birds, turtles and other wildlife. Many are fire protection and safety students and alumni whose involvement ranges from hazardous waste emergency response to incident command operations. We’re working on some of these stories right now for STATE’s fall 2010 issue. We know you’ll take pride in the great work these OSU alumni, faculty and students are doing to alleviate the damage.

Meanwhile, there’s a search-and-rescue operation underway on campus for a stray mother cat and four kittens living under a dumpster behind the J-school.  It seems the adjacent Student Union parking garage is a popular spot to dump unwanted cats. That’s truly sad. Those not run over typically die of starvation. Do students really abandon their cats and dogs at the end of the semester? Those of us who live here year-round see the tragedy repeated much too often.

But I’m proud to have friends (Dottie and Dell) who care enough to haul out heavy traps and cages, crawl around dirty dumpsters (Holly with Tiny Paws Kitten Rescue) and then ante up the money to feed, shelter, vaccinate and spay/neuter them (all of the above) so the little castaways can have a chance to be adopted into a permanent home.

I’m proud of those in the OSU family who apply their expertise and compassion where it’s needed, such as giant environmental disasters like the gulf oil spill or a family of kittens living under a dumpster.

STATE Writer

It was a cold, cloudy December evening outside Whitehurst Hall. Campus was nearly deserted. Students had cleared out for home, commencement and parties. As for me, a communications specialist (a fancy term for “writer”) at OSU’s marketing office and a graduate student in the Spears School’s MBA program, I was fresh from a narrowly-escaped death at the hands of an organization behavior final.

My interview subject sat before me, Rick Darnaby, at a large table in a conference room off President Burns Hargis’s offices inside Whitehurst. Darnaby, a former executive with the Motorola, NutraSweet, Monsanto and Somera Communications companies, is one of the business school’s foremost alumni and a managing partner of a business innovation consulting firm based in California.

As we talk about OSU, innovation and the dog-eat-dog world of modern industry, I realize I’m surrounded by innovations, products or other developments Darnaby has been either a part of, connected to or involved with in some fashion.

Outside our conference room, someone’s cell phone has Kenny Loggins’ “Danger Zone” as a ringtone. It goes off repeatedly as my digital recorder ticks off the seconds of our 30-minute chat. Droplets of water condense on the exterior of a glass of Diet Coke resting on a coaster at his fingertips.

When it’s summer outside Whitehurst’s Georgian walls, black-eyed susans, liriope and other flowers explode during the summer in neat beds. Most likely, those beds are kept free of weeds by gardeners armed with Roundup, one of the flagship products from Monsanto’s line of herbicides.

I wonder at how that just happens. How does one just eek their way into so many different big deals? How does one go from being a simple kid from Tulsa’s Union High School to a college student who didn’t take notes to one of the top executives of some of the world’s best-known companies?

Darnaby told me, as he’ll tell you in our Spring Edition of STATE Magazine, he simply did it.”

Last December, she won the U.S. Artists Ford Fellowship in Literature. Only one person from each state receives the distinguished honor and $50,000 prize annually.

However, Ai died unexpectedly shortly before STATE went to press. No one, including Ai, knew a bout of pneumonia would reveal a latent yet advanced breast cancer and take her life one weekend in March.

I wish I had met Ai long before our interview at her home surrounded by a menagerie of very friendly rescued cats. One even curled up on the tape recorder, muffling the end of the conversation. Ai’s poetic voice is strong and forceful and her chilling subjects include violence and abuse, so I was surprised to meet the petite woman with a soft voice. Not exactly the intimidating personality I expected.

After hearing her life story, (included in the spring STATE magazine) I wanted to pay tribute to this tenacious woman who overcame many obstacles and generously shared her knowledge and wisdom with aspiring poets and underachieving students alike.

I’m sad Ai won’t be able to experience the accolades she’s due, but as my colleague and co-editor Eileen Mustain told me, Ai did get to experience the highest honor – the award itself and the satisfaction of knowing the nation’s best artists held her in high esteem.

We invite you to share your special memories of Ai, her classes or her poetry here. Let’s start a new round of celebration. Ai deserves it. And I think, somehow, she would be pleased by it.

Janet Varnum

It was irreverent, inappropriate, rude, crude, sexist, racist, cynical, satirical and, occasionally, funny.

Filled with bad jokes, innuendos, cartoons, puns, gossip and provocative stories, the student-produced Oklahoma Aggievator constantly tested — and crossed — the borders of acceptable college humor during its 33-year run at Oklahoma Agricultural and Mechanical College.

The editors frequently went too far, pushed sensibilities to the breaking point and invited the wrath of both college administrators and Oklahoma legislators.

A press release announcing the inaugural 1924 issue stated, “Its pages will contain the latest wit of the campus, and the regular student comedy which is alone peculiar to colleges and universities.”

But the germination probably started a year earlier when the Oklahoma State Board of Agriculture hired Edmund E. Hadley to be editor-in-chief of college publications and a journalism instructor in the English Department.
Hadley, 28, worked closely with the new college president, Bradford Knapp, on public relations and publicity, including the college catalog and experiment station bulletins.

Hadley also interacted with students and served as sponsor for all student publications with editorial guidance from the college Press Club. He nurtured and inspired OAMC students such as Walker Stone, eventual editor-in-chief of Scripps-Howard newspapers, and Paul Miller, who became leader of Gannett Corporation and president of the Associated Press.

Student publications worked out of Old Central and included the college newspaper, the Orange and Black (renamed the O’Collegian at Hadley’s suggestion), and the college yearbook, the Redskin.

Hadley agreed to support the new student-produced humor magazine. Earlier attempts included the semi-annual Earthquake filled with fake stories, but when the OAMC Press Club agreed to publish a regular-edition serial similar to humor publications appearing at campuses across the country, the Oklahoma Aggievator was born.

The first editor, Elmo Flynt, had experience publishing magazines and newspapers, but the real perspiration behind the first issues came from a bright student named Houston Overby.
Known for missing class while sleeping during the day, Overby managed to wake long enough to push the magazines to completion regardless of deadlines. He became editor in 1925 and remained an unpaid consultant for years after his graduation.

The first Aggievator issues were financial failures and contributed very little revenue, if any, to a 1925 capital campaign for a new campus stadium, even though two student pep squads helped distribute the magazines. The Wampus Kittens, a men’s group, and the women members of the Peppers were in charge of sales and subscriptions.

At 25 cents per issue, the Aggievator may have been a bit expensive for most students. Profits were rare as purchased issues were frequently redistributed many times over among friends. Most years the publication simply tried to break even, and the price never exceeded 35 cents. The first issues were financial failures and very little revenue, if any, assisted with the construction project.

Local business initially provided some advertizing revenue, but more lucrative accounts with large international corporations, especially those selling tobacco products, dominated the back cover for many years.

The Aggievator may have also cost the college money.

One year, an offended state legislator brought an Aggievator into the chamber before the annual college appropriations vote, waved it around like a dirty rag and insisted on sharing an objectionable joke about a young married-student couple from the issue.

President Knapp was at best perturbed. This was the one OAMC publication in which he expressed disappointment with Hadley’s supervision. The editor quickly printed apologies, which became a frequent feature of the magazine for three decades.

One apology stated, “Editors of humorous magazines have been accused of being crude and even degenerate. But, in defense, it need only be pointed out in this connection that the editors are no more degenerate in mind than the average college person. And if their magazines do print that which borders on the crude, it is because they are aware of the class of readers to which they must cater.”

The magazine joined at least two associations with memberships in the Missouri Valley Association and the Southern Association of college humor publications. Jokes, stories, and cartoons were freely exchanged and the Aggievator frequently printed items that had their origination from other universities. Former students, including Chester Gould, creator of Dick Tracy, submitted items for the randomly produced issues.

Magazines were rarely numbered. Instead, they were published with a theme. The first issue of the year, for example, might be signified as the Heifer or Freshman Number. Other reoccurring themes included Interscholastic, Homecoming, Old Grad, Pansy, Round-up, Exam, Sadie Hawkins and Left-over Numbers. It is almost impossible to determine the total number of issues published during the print run from 1924 to 1957 when they ironically celebrated their 37th year of publication. Their arithmetic was as bad as their jokes.

The first issues were published on “sixteen pages of rough wood pulp paper” and printed few illustrations. But within a few years the Aggievator grew to 32 pages on better quality paper containing drawings and covers printed in color. Editorial and productions staffs expanded from 10 to 12 in the early years to as many as 20 students involved in the 1930s and ’40s.

In spite of frequent sexist jokes, innuendos and risqué stories, a number of women served on the Aggievator staffs. Vee Massey became the first women editor in 1939, followed by several other women editors during the war years of the early 1940s. Not all editors had journalism backgrounds. Art student Norman Moore served as editor in 1955 and later became OSU’s vice president of student services.

In spite of its many flaws, the Oklahoma Aggievator attempted to punch a little humor into the collegiate atmosphere with corny jokes, bad puns and, sometimes, biting satire.

During challenging and difficult times, which included an economic depression and war, the Aggievator survived on the edges of comedy, a place where humor and offense still exists today.

By David C. Peters

OSU Special Collections and University Archives

At OSU, Harjo found some inspiring professors in Dean Bloodgood, Dale McKinney and Nick Bormann, who allowed him to branch out as a painter and explore Native American topics and abstract designs.
After 30 years as a professional artist, Harjo’s life is a balancing act between the personal and spiritual, the business world and the art world.
“When I was growing up, we would go to stomp dances,” he says. “If we went to the dance, my grandmother would say, ‘Don’t tell anybody at the church,’ because there was a separation. It was not right if you were a Christian to go to the dance — to practice the other way of seeing the Creator.
“And I think that’s a great detriment to a lot of our people. Once you become totally absorbed in Christianity, or one belief in God, you repudiate your tribal belief in God, your tribal belief in the Creator and all living things.
“There are the positive aspects of the medicine people who can help heal not with drugs or medicine but with the mind. Yet, at the same time, you can carry that too far and always try to heal with the mind when help such as drugs are out there that can alleviate the situation.
“There’s got to be a happy balance. And that’s what I think life is about — maintaining balance in whatever you do, whether it’s your friendships, your artwork or the way you live.”

Read more of Matt Elliott’s article about Benjamin Harjo Jr. in the Winter 2009 STATE magazine.

They’re like precious stones – formed through formidable educational and life experiences into resilient and radiant individuals capable of improving the world around them.

Take 1952 alumnus Victor Mathis, for example, who spent many years as an Oklahoma architect.

Victor recently created a bronze relief sculpture of Pistol Pete for his grandson-in-law, Tim O’Neil, director of OSU’s Freshman Research Scholars Program.

What’s remarkable about this piece is that Victor completed it with extremely limited eyesight, relying mostly on his sense of touch and specialized visual magnification tools to recreate Pete’s unique features in clay, Tim says.

Victor retired from architecture several years ago but completed a few more freelance projects such as a new tabernacle at Oklahoma’s popular Falls Creek church camp before his declining vision ended his architectural career.

Tim invites everyone to view Victor’s sculpture in the display case adjacent to the Office of Scholar Development and Recognition (Room 260, Student Union).

Victor is one of many remarkable OSU alumni who STATE magazine and STATE online want you to know about. Because of Cowboy gems like Victor Mathis, memories of Pistol Pete and OSU remain close to heart, even when they are out of sight.

When I asked him if one painting titled It’s OK, but you’re not an Indian Picasso was christened by someone else or if he named it himself, Harjo laughed and said the comparison was first pointed out by an instructor at the Santa Fe’s Institute of American Indian Arts before he attended OSU. “When people started teasing me about being an Indian Picasso, I thought I’ll just go ahead and paint one ….” he laughs, heartily.

You can read more about Benjamin Harjo in the current issue of STATE magazine, which should reach your mailbox this week. Writer Matt Elliott gives insight into the OSU alum and the life experiences that inspire his work.

In the show, Harjo’s oils, acrylics and gouache paintings (many borrowed from private collectors for this exhibit) include Cosmic Trickster, a bright example of his symmetrical and colorful style; Looking back in a round about way with its kaleidoscope of color and pattern; and Shake Rattle and Stomp, a mixture of colors and shapes almost quilt-like in its design.

I hope you can stop by the Gardiner Art Gallery tonight and meet Benjamin Harjo and his wife, Barbara, at a 5 p.m. reception and a 6 p.m. lecture. They are delightful people, and the art work is astounding. Every bit as unique and imaginative as Picasso’s.

Last semester, we asked graphic design students in Carey Hissey’s illustration class if they would like to create artwork to portray abstract subjects such as a tobacco-free campus, wind turbine technology and an interactive medical vending machine.

The results are superb. Students spent about three weeks using only their imaginations and the articles’ text to create unique and professional-quality illustrations we’re proud to share with OSU alumni and friends. Each illustration captures the essence of the story it represents while highlighting the artist’s unique style. Like the chocolates, they’re all winners.

To see which three were selected for publication, you’ll have to wait until your STATE arrives this week. Until then, enjoy them all!

TOBACCO-FREE CAMPUS

By Katy McDonald, graphic design and illustration senior from Claremore, Okla.

By Julius R. Lewis, illustration senior from Okmulgee, Okla.

MEDICAL VENDING MACHINE

By Nichole Dodson, graphic design and illustration senior from Broken Arrow, Okla.

By Brandon Beichler, graphic design and illustration senior from Enid, Okla.

WIND ENERGY

By Shelby Oliver, illustration senior from Edmond, Okla.

By Katherine Shirley, illustration senior from Edmond, Okla.

By Jennifer Richardson, illustration senior from Tulsa, Okla.

Across campus, students are playing Frisbee on the library lawn and handing out free samples of Coca-Cola Zero. South of the ATRC Building,  a group of engineering students are gearing up for some kind of cart race along a sidewalk bordered by black-and-white checkered pennants and a finish line marked by a giant Red Bull balloon arch.

Even though contention exists over parking lot access – football fans vs. students, faculty and staff – the game day atmosphere trumps the inconvenience for many.

“For those who showed up for work and class today, there are all sorts of wonderful prizes waiting,” says Jessa Zapor-Gray, our department’s photo coordinator, who grew up in Colorado where weekday college football games are not unusual. “Your reward for walking an extra mile to campus because the parking lots are closed and you had to park in the driveway of the brother of your neighbor’s best friend (Lisa says thanks to Chuck) is a free soft drink, a carnival atmosphere, the ominous beat of pop music wafting out of the stadium and perchance to dream of free ribs from tailgaters.”

Moreover, televised games on weekdays contribute to increased revenue, visibility and, hopefully, enrollment. As Jessa says, “The more we inject that game day spirit into other days of the week, the better off business will be, and Stillwater will feel even more like a lively college town.”

Crowds of orange are beginning to form outside Cordell, and it feels like a Saturday. The weather’s cooperating with mild temperatures. Mobile concession booths along Hall of Fame are selling funnel cakes and lemonade, and the smell of smoke from tailgaters’ grills is in the air.

Go POKES!