Out and About
North Park Centennial Dinner, April 25, 1992
The members of Salem Covenant Church in New Brighton, Minnesota provided the hospitality for this banquet. The decorations were tasteful, the food was excellent, and the service was superb.
Because I am as much a North Parker as anyone who is a graduate, who has had a son or daughter graduate, who has married a graduate, and who counts faculty as well as fellow students among one’s best friends, I would normally have an insider’s perspective on the event. However, on this occasion, my orientation was from the periphery rather than the center.
I had the good fortune to attend this dinner with Fred Gradous. Fred is a mechanical engineer, a graduate of Rose Holman Polytechnical Institute in Terra Haute, Indiana, and a member of its Curriculum Committee. At a birthday party for a mutual friend, we discovered, to each other’s surprise, that we had both attended North Park. Fred attended NPJC during 1947/48.
Fred graduated from Von Steuben High School and enrolled at Illinois Institute of Technology. He hadn’t found the groove yet and he almost flunked out. He got new life from North Park. In addition to classes, Albin Erickson tutored him in Chemistry and Reynold Vann in Math. “Rey Vann had the first ballpoint pen I ever saw,” Fred remarked. He went on to Rose Poly, as it was called then, did well, graduated, and has been a successful mechanical engineer for years.
Fred is a regular contributor (“I have a real soft spot for North Park”) and, therefore, on NP mailing lists. He called me a month or so before the dinner to ask if I was planning to go. We agreed to go together.
Fred’s perspective on North Park is from the past. He reminded me that North Park had a terrific reputation as a Junior College. It was considered one of the very best in the country. “Anyone who took Biology at North Park and did well had an automatic ticket to Northwestern Pre Med. North Park had an excellent Biology professor during those years. Her students could go on anywhere.”
Fred also told me that while he was at North Park, Dean Erickson had rented a place on Bryn Mawr Avenue where he worked to develop a process to produce monosodium glutamate commercially.
We were delighted to discover that Albin Erickson, the tall, straight, octogenarian-plus who had been Fred’s tutor and my Dean, was scheduled to address the gathering. Dean Erickson spoke of the distinctive contributions of the three presidents, Algoth Olson, Clarence Nelson, and Karl Olsson, under whom he served during his time (1934-1970) at North Park.
Later, Dr. Horner gave his usual fine account of himself and the North Park String Quartet pleased our ears. Afterwards, Fred and I caught up with Dean Erickson. The Dean seemed to have difficulty remembering Fred until Fred mentioned the venture to produce monosodium glutamate. Albin’s eyes lit up. “Were you able to make it?” Fred asked. “Yes,” responded the Dean, memory aroused, and he and Fred entered into conversation.
On the drive home, Fred commented, “North Park seems to be a lot more religious than it was when I was there.”
Centennial Year Graduation, May 23 and 24, 1992
Baccalaureate Service
I had seen Queen of All Saints Cathedral years ago, but I had forgotten it. There it sits, just south of Devon and east of Eden’s, too good to be true. As Doug Dahlgren said, “Thank God for Catholics — they build a church with something like a 5/12 pitch.” Queen of All Saints looms large beyond the immense green in front of it. It is huge, yet tall and slender.
As I walked toward the church with the Copy Editor and our son Eric — the erstwhile Sport Prophet and graduate, I noticed some people flying kites on the green. As we drew closer, Eric spotted his psychology professor, Dr. Egan. Then we ran into Burton Nelson, Ralph Sturdy, Mel and Joanne Soderstrom, Randy and Judy Johnson, and Bob and Marlene Bach, and the evening just beginning. Though this was a Catholic Church, these were our people and this was our territory for the night. The church was already full. Though there were many familiar faces, there were many more we did not recognize. Sometimes it is good to be reminded that North Park’s influence reaches far beyond a clan.
We proudly watched the graduates process, as we strained to see Eric, and then we settled down for the service. The speaker was Millard Fuller, President of Habitat For Humanity International. I was impressed by the report of North Park’s significant involvement in Habitat for Humanity. It was the original college chapter (there are now 300 college chapters of Habitat in the U.S. and 800 in 38 countries around the world). I was also impressed by the fact that Habitat soon will be the largest home builder in the country. Mr. Fuller gave high, well-deserved tribute to the work of Jim Lundeen for Jim’s part in leading North Park’s participation in Habitat and other social ministries.
Fuller’s sermon title was “Pursuing the Things Which Make For Peace.” It felt good to me, even though I have not lifted a hammer for Habitat yet, to hear a genuine challenge to give ourselves to the pursuit of peace. He spoke without embarrassment or apology about serving others and went so far as to lift up the Social Gospel without hesitation. Dr. Fuller honored Walter Rauschenbusch, said there was progress in history, and said we were called to pursue peace, to break down the barriers, and to build bridges of love and understanding. Acknowledging the desperate condition of the earth’s people, the danger to the ozone layer, acid rain, population growth, and all the other things that come so easily to mind, he said that we are to be and to see light.
Mr. Fuller called for the graduates and all of us to respond with “The Theology of the Hammer.” It is time to drive a few nails and not just to talk and think. To the graduates, he closed with Longfellow’s words: “Let us then be up and doing... .” Commencement
Ivar and Harriet Wistrom immediately came into view as I followed Bob Bach through the main door to the North Park Gym. The Wistroms were here to see grandson Matt Nelson graduate. Ivar looked relaxed. So did Harriet. I speculate that they can rest easy at North Park because there is still a Wistrom — son Carl — helping to take care of the place. We were lucky to find a place in the bleachers by Randy, Judy, and Peter Johnson. Randy and Judy’s son, Mark, was graduating.
Once again the speaker took me by surprise. Millard Fuller had spoken about the social gospel and the doctrine of progress without a blush, and now Dr. Nils Hasselmo, president of the University of Minnesota, talked without apology about millenarianism and called for a utopian dream. In his address, “Towards the Third Millennium,” Dr. Hasselmo acknowledged the problems humans face and the lack of purpose that seems to prevail. He urged service to the needs of contemporary society. The third millennium is only eight years away, so this is a good occasion, President Hasselmo said, to take a cosmic perspective and to generate a vision of a new and better order and thus address the threats that are upon us.
He reminded us of the vision of a century and a half ago when Peter Anderson, Swedish immigrant, said that in America the human being was in its new home. He noted that the commencement on this day was a fulfillment of the dream of education and, thus, a fulfillment of the dream of America. “You have,” he told the graduates, “a good future.”
The ceremonies were long and many of the graduates, I’m sure, waited with inner impatience to get their dipolmas and have it over with. The sudden downturn in the temperature outside and the cold winds that accompanied it caught most everybody unprepared. Those who arrived in short-sleeves found themselves wishing for a bearskin coat as the thermometer plunged into the 40s. The chill on post-ceremony conviviality was severe. After a few dashes for some goodies under the tent on front campus followed by a hasty retreat to the warmth of the Gym, we decided, like most others, that it was time to leave.
Of note was the striking new North Park banner given by the Strand family — Les, Kristine, and Ingrid — in memory of Eleanor, much loved by them and by many of us.
All in all, the Centennial Year Graduation was a distinct success. It did my cynical heart good to hear these challenges to take hold of things and to dare to hope a bit that these young people, this new blood, might shape the new millenium in a better way than we have shaped the last years of the second millennium. When we discussed Dr. Hasselmo’s address, Eric said, “I like the way he ended.” “How was that again?” I asked. “Go out and save the world.” — PJ