An old paper letter from Provost Imholte

So touching to go through old family items and find a handwritten letter with canceled stamp affixed. Quaint, yes. Here's one from Jack Imholte, who ran the University of Minnesota-Morris as provost, a position now called chancellor. He was affectionately called "The Silver Fox" for reasons obvious if you looked at a photo.
He had a fascination with Civil War history. I was proud I could engage in an intelligent conversation with him over the Battle of Gettysburg. I had read the historical novel "The Killer Angels." I chatted with Imholte at the upstairs restaurant at City Center Mall in the days when it served what you might describe as American food. I realize that characterization might be termed ethno-centric, so I'm sorry. Just trying to be descriptive.

Jack Imholte

The sage Dr. Imholte, who had a book published about the First Minnesota Regiment, and I agreed that General Longstreet of the Confederate side probably showed the superior judgment. This in comparison to the iconic general of the gray legions, Robert E. Lee.
I have read that General Lee was affected with pretty bad diarrhea at the time of Gettysburg. Digestive problems were common among the combatants. Rancid bacon? "Hardcore" re-enactors today actually try to replicate this aspect. I'll pass on the hobby. Model trains, anyone?
So Jack wrote a letter to my father in 1996. Cursive handwriting! It's not even taught to our young people any more, right? Many people my age shake heads about that. Warning: We must remember that our youth are not only not gaining the skill of writing cursive. It stands to reason they'll struggle trying to read it. So if you're dropping something off at the Post Office and the workers there are all young, well.
I imagine the Post Office is having to deal with this issue responsibly. Better yet, why don't we still get kids to be competent with handwriting? I recall being taught handwriting in the second grade. It wasn't hard to pick up.
Whenever Civil War-era letters are published, we're instantly struck by the "flowery" nature of the writing. It seemed like a real art form. Something we ought to miss? That might be a stretch. Do we miss gas station attendants waiting on us? Asking to check the oil, wash the windshield? It was once a staple.
We might not want to go back in time, but I feel a renewed closeness to Jack "The Silver Fox" Imholte just holding this letter that I pulled out of an envelope with its stamp. It's the type of correspondence that would surely be handled with email today. Technically I think email began in 1992. But the early days as with most revolutionary things were halting as we had to fundamentally change our habits, or at least think about changing them. I went through the latter - thinking about it - for a long time before actually adopting many new ways. Sigh.
For the record, General Longstreet of the Confederates, who was a main player in the historical novel "The Killer Angels" (Michael Shaara), wanted a defensive position for his army in Pennsylvania. General Lee followed his normal pugnacious instincts. The Civil War was at a time of dramatically improved war technology. In particular, the "rifled gun" with its grooves was a major stride from "smoothbore." Improved war tech always gives an advantage for a time to the tactical defensive.
Smoothbore wasn't completely gone. It was such a weapon that took down General "Stonewall" Jackson of the Confederates in a friendly fire incident. The Myth of the Lost Cause made a huge deal out of the loss of Jackson. There is an actual grave marker for his amputated arm. He died from pneumonia.
The word "myth" pretty baldly tells us we should be prepared for some bulls--t. It has been written that Jackson got overrated, because he made a name for himself "cleaning out the Shenandoah Valley" which was a task not calling for savvy or genius. Any time he was involved in a standard large-scale battle, he could be as confused as any general. You see, the advanced weaponry made it unlikely, maybe impossible, for one army to ever obliterate another. The "losing" army always ended up as the one that had to depart.
Let's be realistic. Couldn't the Confederate army have simply been surrounded and choked off in Pennsylvania? (It was the Army of Northern Virginia.)
The spirit of conciliation after the war - not that a whole lot of bad feeling didn't still fester - had the North sort of bow to the gallant General Lee. Lee had after all suggested conciliation himself. So let's honor the gallant Southern fighting man while walking away with the biggest prize: we won the war.
Jack Imholte wrote a definitive book about the First Minnesota Volunteer Regiment. It's as good a reference as you could want. There is a statue of a Civil War veteran at our Summit Cemetery in Morris. It's rare to find such things this far to the west. The statue is of Sam Smith who has many descendants among us today.
I'm pleased to note I have had my own original songs recorded about both the First Minnesota Volunteers and the Sam Smith statue. Oh, and another song inspired by the events of Charlottesville VA: "I Thought the Civil War Ended." All are on YouTube. They appear to have done well attracting listeners, so I'm proud.
Proud, too, would describe my feelings as I read the letter from Jack Imholte to my father Ralph in 1996. "Thanks for sending me a copy of your exploits with the Apollo Club," Jack wrote.
The "exploits" were in a booklet called "Sweeter Than the Honeywell: 100 Years of Music and Friendship." It's a tribute to the history of the Apollo Male Chorus. It came at the time of the group's centennial (1995). The chorus is a Minneapolis-based institution.
In 1951 my father became the seventh director of the Apollo Club. He held the role until 1955 which was the year I was born. (Coincidence of course?)
In 1964 a former historian of the club wrote of my dad that "with the introduction of his own compositions and arrangements into the programs of the Apollo Club, the Club produced a new sound that was excitingly different from the usual choral fare."
I could quote a lot more in this vein. At a certain point as I read, I almost feel like reacting "oh, knock it off." I mean, it gets to be a reminder of the pedestrian nature of my own life, my shortcomings. But it's great to read that my father indeed left a legacy. So we came here to Morris in 1960 for the launch of this little "experiment on the prairie," the new U of M-Morris.
All my life I have contended with scorn directed at me because of the perception that I'm from a privileged family. We are all dogged by something in life that we feel is unfair.

Howard Viken

A more upbeat thing: I remember in my teens accompanying my parents to an anniversary event of the Apollo Club. I remember the guest performer for the event was singer John Gary. The emcee was Howard Viken of WCCO Radio. My father was introduced during the program and he stood along with Mom and I.
Through the years I heard a snippet of conversation in our household about a dark side of the venerated Minneapolis Apollo Club. I guess Jewish people weren't exactly welcome. My father would never have gone along with such a thing, but he was aware of the custom or whatever you want to call it. Well, prejudice.
My father taught music at the U's St. Paul School of Agriculture in my preschool years. This was before schoolteachers entered my life to terrorize me. Our St. Paul days were golden. But Morris came to define us. Our family monument is at Summit Cemetery, a black bench on which you'll see my father identified as "founder of UMM music." And my mother: "Diligent worker at UMM." I am identified as "journalist." And I feel pride in that too.
- Brian Williams - morris mn minnesota - bwilly73@yahoo.com