i love morris: Today would be Dad's birthday

Saturday, June 19, 2021

Today would be Dad's birthday

Ralph E. Williams as pictured in UMM's first-ever yearbook, "Venture."

Dad (right) with U of M President Malcolm Moos at installation of Jack Imholte as UMM provost, 1970. Dad and Malcolm were friends from their days as U of M students.

My late father had a birthday that corresponded with Juneteenth. That day be today: June 19. It was 105 years ago. He grew up in Glenwood as the youngest of five boys. The five all found success and lived to an advanced age. They seemed a disparate group, I mean with their talents and interests and even their appearance. Oh, I'm sure all five had the same two parents: Martin and Carrie.

Martin passed on well before his time, in 1933. Cancer felled him. Carrie was able to attend my father's graduation from the University of Minnesota in 1939. She left this life in 1949, six years before I was born. Her death was clouded in some mystery as apparently a fall was involved, something that family members sought to avoid speaking about. Maybe someone felt responsible for her, I don't know. Her official cause of death was a stroke.

I came to possess the guest book from her funeral which was bequeathed to us along with other items at the time of my uncle Howard's death. Oh, one of those items was an important piece of memorabilia from UMM's history! I'm surprised my family did not have this. Ol' Howard had an item from the Minneapolis Tribune which was a large feature spread on the UMM orchestra when it was new!

I was delighted a couple years ago to type up that article as a blog post and put it on "Morris of Course" along with a photo of Dad.

My father was the entire UMM music department in the institution's first year. He directed all kinds of ensembles. He could have directed jazz because he had the background for it. But "jazz" had an image at the time which could not be sold in higher education, or heck not even in high school. Our culture evolves. We can easily imagine UMM's talented musicians from the early days doing jazz.

By the same token, we could imagine many female students being outstanding athletes! Society hadn't evolved yet to accept that: women's varsity athletics or jazz groups in school. Jazz crept in slowly. Let me explain: our high school band director John Woell got it going but delicately, by not using the word "jazz."

There was a time when the expression "sex appeal" might have caused older folks to cover their ears. These things are strange but they were reality, n'est-ce-pas? We have to live within that real world, a world in which for so long we put up with cigarette smoke in public places. Our band director Woell organized "stage band" which avoided the word jazz.

By the end of the 1970s, the tide had turned and we had a director at UMM, Jim Carlson, who really put jazz forward on a pedestal. Carlson's Jazz Fest became perhaps the No. 1 highlight on UMM's whole calendar. Remember how we'd see orange school buses from various towns during the Fest? Kids came to be taught and to soak in jazz.

Dad as a boy

My father's forte at the start was his men's chorus. I think even at the time, yours truly looked at that and suspected it was going to become an anachronism. Anything gender-specific was going to have to explain itself. And that's especially if it appeared to put the male gender in a preferred position. So unless there was a corresponding platform for females, questions would be asked.

Putting that concern aside, the UMM men's chorus was of course fabulous. They assembled on risers at UMM's Edson Auditorium which was concert central. The guys wore maroon blazers. In 1962 the group opened the Minnesota Day program at the Seattle World's Fair (Century 21 Exposition).

It's easy to forget now, but UMM was practically desperate for high-profile attention in those days. This is no exaggeration: the institution was considered on shaky ground for its future in the early days. I have heard stories from undisputed sources. Helen Jane Morrison would readily confirm.

Helen Jane has lived such a long and bountiful life. I learned Tuesday that she was in the hospital recently, but she was back home as of Tuesday. A little extra care is being arranged for her. I'm quite familiar with such things. My parents lived into their 90s.

Helen Jane was present in spirit for the gathering at the UMM campus mall Tuesday. The gathering was to send Michelle Behr into a happy retirement. She has been UMM's chancellor. The pretzels were terrific! Helen Jane's daughter-in-law Elizabeth Morrison was there.

We wish Michelle the best along with Helen Jane. Helen Jane has been so proud to be a UMM benefactor on behalf of her family.

In my own small way I mirror their efforts. Oh, maybe it's not so small. When you describe money sums, it becomes quite subjective or relative. My father would say "you can't take it with you."

But let me emphasize that Dad was exhibit 'A' of the generation that grew up in the Depression. He graduated from Glenwood High School at the height of John Dillinger times. As his generation went through life it had recognizable spots. Don't throw anything away! Account for every nickel!

The late Ron Lindquist told me that any time the Morris newspaper might be in position to buy new equipment, Ed Morrison would say "can we get a used one?" That's a prime example too.

Our custodian Howard Moser told me that when the paper decided to purchase a simple two-wheel cart, it was considered a big deal! I'm old enough to remember that kind of thinking - finally I had to get past it. Hey, it won't fly in the high-tech digital age! New "generations" of the high-tech stuff come along constantly. Finally I got dragged into the new age.

I remember when Dad had a typical quibble with a local car dealer once, where the dealer said he needed a little extra money for some particular reason. You know how it goes. I think Dad got a little obstinate and his relationship with the guy frayed, and I considered that unfortunate. I would have liked to tell him to "roll with the punches" and just pay it! Sometimes you just have to "suck it up." But Dad was of the Depression generation. I suppose he needed to be "deprogrammed."

My parents went with me when I acquired clothing and they felt I should buy clothes that I could "grow into!" Yes, a little too big so they'd last longer and wouldn't have to be replaced so soon! Finally we got a revolution in clothing to where it became quite cheap. Because of globalization? Let's remember it wasn't always that way.

Remember the main street men's clothing stores? It was Palmer's on the west side, Wayne's on the east.

Dad was two years old when the influenza epidemic hit West Central Minnesota. Three students at the ag school died and 116 became ill. The school closed for 21 days. When it reopened, students and staff protected themselves by wearing gauze face masks. The school rebounded and enrollment climbed to 164 for the fall term of 1919.

The roaring '20s

My father first visited our Morris campus in 1928! He performed in the district music contest in the auditorium where Edson is today. Edson is part of the overall performance facility named for Edward and Helen Jane Morrison. Had I been approached for getting the place named for my parents, I would have had a receptive stance.

As it stands, two photos of my father are on display at the HFA which came to replace Edson as the primary music performance venue. Odd, there is nothing like a "concert hall" there, just a "recital hall." Odd that our public school has a bona fide concert hall but not UMM.

Dad returned to the campus in 1931 to play a trumpet solo with the West Central Minnesota Symphonic Orchestra in the new gymnasium which was in the "P.E. Annex." Remember that place? With the pool on the lower level? I attended early Cougar basketball games there. "Basketball" meant men's basketball! Amazing that our society had not progressed further by the early 1960s.

Dad taught at Brainerd High School in 1941 and '42. Hmmm. My mother was a Brainerd native. Never did I ask them to what extent they developed affection when Mom was in high school. Dad left teaching for the Navy in World War II, in which he served as gunnery officer in the Pacific.

My father never blamed the Japanese people. Once when a documentary about the build-up to war was on TV, he reacted to the scene of a pugnacious Japanese politician by saying in disgust: "politics!" Yes, he blamed politics.

I was born when Dad was teaching at the U of M St. Paul School of Agriculture. I learned not long ago from a genealogy website that I was born in Ramsey MN. I know my birth was not routine. I sensed that either my life or Mom's was in jeopardy. I never probed much on that.

Dad got pretty well-known in the Twin Cities for directing the Minneapolis Apollo Club, a 120-voice men's chorus. His affinity with men-only ensembles might have worn thin as time passed. Often I will wish I could go back in time and maybe coach Dad on how to stay "hip" with everything. I would have told him to try to blaze a trail with some "jazz" education at UMM. It's easy to imagine this now. In reality it might not have been practicable.

Today, June 19, would be Dad's 105th birthday. You're welcome to visit our family monument at Summit Cemetery any time. It's a bench. have a seat. Get a load off. Forget the pandemic. Count your blessings as I'm sure my parents always did.

June 19 is also the date when the last of our three dogs, "Sandy," had to be put down. That was pure coincidence. He was Dad's dog or "Daddy's doggy" as we'd say around the house (not with company present).

Thanks to Del Sarlette for scanning photos you see with this post. Del's late father Walt played in the original UMM orchestra.

- Brian Williams - morris mn minnesota - bwilly73@yahoo.com