11

Toward a New Vision

A SMALL COLLEGE FACES MANY PROfiLEMS. For Butler,this was especially true. Because the directors were so dominant in man-agement of the university, much depended on how they functioned andhow capable they were. Leadership faltered with Ovid Butler's passing. In-decision and division prevailed. Aging holdovers on the board seemed tolack drive. Paralyzed by a lack offunds, they lost sight oflarger goals, bog-ging down in details that could have been delegated. Bored by lengthy meet-ings, some absented themselves; thus, lack of a quorum often impeded boardaction. Such absences may also reflect differences over issues; dissenters sim-ply refused to attend meetings in order to stall proceedings.

Erratically, the board proposed new projects and solutions to persistentproblems-only to put off decisions, temporize, and evade. Board min-utes f..tilto indicate much systematic action. Only rarely were major issuessettled conclusively. Even if some directors did want to progress toward thefounders' goal of a comprehensive university, financial limitations made itunattainable throughout the last quarter of the nineteenth century. With-out going outside the church constituency for funds, which they would notdo, the goal could not be reached

Some problems persisted; others arose unexpectedly, sporadically di-verting attention from the main order of business. Directors were burdenedwith decisions about faculty staffing and salaries. They busied themselves

Tbionrd a New Vision 199

with concerns about enrollments, facilities, upkeep, library resources, de-fining the college's mission, and agonizing over management of its slenderassets.

Throughout this period ran the thread of disagreement between thosewho sought to maintain control by church members devoted to the mis-sion of orthodox religious instruction and others more concerned with sec-ular education. The former were satisfied with the college as it was, lim-ited perforce in size and offerings, because church members, a few excepted,were unlikely to provide additional means. They were reluctant to look toa wide constituency for support, fearing loss of control. The latter groupkept alive the founders' hope for an "institution oflearning of the highestclass," offering instruction "in every branch ofliberal and professional edu-cation" as per the charter, moving to become a university worthy of thegrowing metropolis.

Finally, in 1903, directors found the leadership that had been lacking.Hilton U. Brown began his long tenure as president of the board. Scot But-ler as president of the faculty was already making that position a more effec-tive force for change. Thomas Carr Howe, coming to faculty leadership in1907, proved an even stronger ally in support of Brown's revitalization ofthe college.

As the century ended, Butler was turning a corner. Directors could takesatisfaction in faculty performance. President Butler reported that his pro-fessors had been diligent and progressive. The faculty had organized a sum-mer session, self-sustaining so that it cost the university nothing. A num-ber of f:1Cldtymembers had taken advanced work during leaves and in thesummer. Students who would distinguish themselves and give loyal serviceto the university emerged from this last quarter-century. A lively campuslife and a dedicated faculty brought luster to the small college, uninhib-ited by the problems of its directors. Under leadership of Armstrong onthe board and Scot Buder on the faculty, the stage was being set fix con-structive growth in the next century. President Buder, along with boardmembers Brown, Dr. Alernbert W Brayton, and T. H. Kuhn, presented astatement that for the first time sketched the future of a new, larger uni-versity: "Indianapolis is the one place for a great school in Indiana." Thiswas no time to be complacent; the university must seize the opportunity."In this day of large bequests to educational interests," they urged, "is itnot possible to secure a share?"

New board elections in 1897 had helped to open the way. Old guard di-

200 Butler at Irvington

rectors Barzillai M. Blount, Simeon Frazier, and John C. Miller were nolonger members. A leaner board of seventeen, electe.d in 1897, a(~ded OvidButler Jameson (son of Dr. E H. Jameson) and Addison C. Hams, .lawyersand city men ofafbirs with broader views. Armstrong could repor.t III 1897that the university had "cause for congratulation," but warned agall1st com-placency. The treasury boasted a small surplus and enrollme~ts were Ut~'whereas other colleges had lost funds and students; two had closed theirdoors." The next few years held "several hopeful aspects."

Reading from a report by Scot Butler, Hilton U. Brown, andT.I-l. Kuhn,Armstrong outlined the university's future: "While great things have notcome to us rapidly, the horizon has broadened materially." Withoutbranches in all fields of study, the college could boast of liberal arts and sci-ences kept to high standards, equal to the best. As a small school, Butleroffered personal relations between teacher and pupil, a "lifetime advantageto the student." Buder should be a school second to none for Indianapo-lis. If the state gives lavishly to public institutions, then private schools' pa-trons ought to emulate it. The state's citizens wanted private schools, thecommittee asserted, and claimed that Buder was abreast or a year ahead ofstate schools in growth of the subjects it handled. They believed that But-ler was already seeing signs of suppOrt from its friends that should becomea reality.

Further encouragement came the next year when the affiliation with theUniversity of Chicago was concluded. But it was also, Scot Butler corn-plained, "an unusually trying year." Hugh Th. Miller (history) and Demar-elms C. Brown (Greek) were ill. T C. Howe (German) was on leave. Thefaculty was stretched thin. Some student dissatisfaction was evident. "Wehave made decided gains in popular favor," noted Butler, but, he warned,the college must not slip back. Itwas under public scrutiny because it hademerged as a good place; the public would detect any slippage.

The year 1899 saw President Buder writing an end to support of a col-lege of religion unless it could be separately supported by the Church orother private interests-which were not yet evident. Nevertheless, he dip-lomatically assured concerned directors that the college would not becomealienated from the brotherhood. The University of Indianapolis still heldpromise. The connection with the University of Chicago was yielding con-structive results. The Residence was again popular and well managed. TheEnglish Department and gymnasium instruction had been reorganized;in general the faculty was stronger. The faculty was indeed adapting to the

Toward rt Nelli Vision 201

standards of the time; Butler had encouraged leaves for faculty improve-ment and graduate study. Enrollments were up over other Disciples col-leges: Drake, Eureka, Hiram, and Bethany.

With deep regret the university's friends noted losses in the college farn-

ily. Professors Woodson W Thrasher and Allen R. Benton had retired. For-mer director and board president Alonzo M. Atkinson had died. Hugh Th.Miller resigned to go into the flmily businesses in Columbus.

As the new century began, the directors learned that "an anchor has beencast to windward." An approach to steel magnate Andrew Carnegie put it"within the range of possibilities that this [university] might yet share inthe distribution of his bounties."

Plans for a greater university still lay in a shadowland of private talks anddreams. The influential Columbus f~lmilies were principally interested inestablishing a school of religion. President Brown set himself to winningover Will Irwin, Joseph I. Irwin's heir, to the plan for a greater Butler. WillIrwin was a bachelor with broad interests, a devoted and generous alum-nus. He had paid for the college athletic field, reputed to be rhe best in thestate. To secure Will Irwin's support, Brown enlisted the help ofT C. Howe,Irwin's fellow student in the class of 1889.

Progress toward even renewing and enlarging existing facilities at the smallcollege ranged from agonizingly slow to nonexistent, Pressure from rapidlyrising enrollments would finally force decisions. By the rime of Americaninvolvement in World War I, numbers at the college had risen from 183in 1909 to over 400 in 1917.

The college was no longer burdened with its Preparatory Departl11enr.This had been phased out by the end of the 1906-1907 academic year. Thenominal University of Indianapolis had ended in 1906, leaving law anddental colleges merely "associated" with Butler. Later the college yearbookincluded a section on f;lCulty and students of the Indiana School of Law.

In the decade preceding World War I, Butler became increasingly sub-ject to outside forces. Indianapolis had annexed Irvington. The college hadgone to the city's leaders for assistance and had applied to and received aidfrom two national philanthropies, the Carnegie and Rockefeller founda-tions. Control was now in the hands ofa self-perpetuating board ofdircc-tors, no longer constrained by shareholders' votes. Directors increasingly

202 Butler at Irvington

faced the need to adjust policies to requirements established by educationalfoundations and accrediting bodies. Butler enjoyed public approval andrecognition among its peer colleges in the state. It w~uld now fin:l its b.estinterests by moving on to conform to criteria established by national 1Il-

stitutions of higher education.After 1912, a year without a deficit, unbalanced budgets returned while

needs increased. Heating in the main building was so poor that studentsdropped out of school during the winter term. A larger faculty with highersalaries became essential. The college had to pay whatever was necessary tocer and hold its teachers. Brown called attention to the dilemma: the col-v <

lege must expand and retrench simultaneously-spend to meet needs, butcut back and save wherever possible. "We are operating in a community ac-customed not only to necessities but luxuries of education," he said. The col-lege could not continue with "old, unattractive buildings, unkempt grounds,water laboriously pumped into a chained tin cup, a gym only half as largeas needed without an inch of seating capacity," and, of course, the exasper-ating three-floor climb to chapel. The university must heavily reinforce itsresources and press forward with a new endowment campaign. Brown's ex-hortations continued in this vein at successive board meetings. Too often abare quorum turned out to hear him or, worse, no quorum at all, leavingthe ardent group of progressive directors without authority to act.

With or without board action, the college was growing. Since 1904,Howe reported, the increase in enrollment had been "almost phenomenal."It was now two and a half times greater, with over 300 students. His pro-jection of 1,000 students by 1923 proved conservative. Enrollments ranwell over that figure in the years after the war. Retention, however, was aproblem to be dealt with. The attrition rate ran 51 percent, compared, forinstance, with eastern colleges like Tufts, 20 percent, Brown, 33 percent,or Dartmouth, 16 percent. In the Midwest, Michigan's Albion Collegestood at 20 percent, Ohio's Wooster, 33 percent; and University of Wis-consin, 43 percent. Only the University of Vermont, in Howe's analysis,was as high as Butler's, 51 percent. Too many students would continue toleave if the college lacked facilities, sufficient numbers of experienced f;lc-ulry members, and fields of study corning into demand.

Late in J 913, the directors consented to forming a committee to plan anew endowment campaign. They also learned of the national Men and Mil-lions campaign (begun by the Disciples) that would, if successful, bringButler some $300,000. Butler was assessed $340 toward the drive's oper-

Touiard a New Vi.rion 203

ating expenses and was to furnish the services of President Howe and Pro-fessor Charles E. Underwood. Early the next year Brown and Howe metin New York with Wallace Buttrick, secretary of Rockefeller's General Edu-cation Board. Buttrick voiced approval of the Men and Millions drive, butwarned that Butler could not wait five years for results. Buttrick outlinedhis recommended scenario: an early end to the Men and Millions drive inIndiana and a fund drive by Butler for $700,000 of which the General Edu-cation Board would pledge $150,000.

While they were in New York, the two presidents also visited theCarnegie Foundation. Carnegie officials promised to send a representativeto inspect the university. On May 14 and 15, 1914, William A. Learnedcarried out this inspection, reporting that Butler was in "a very lively edu-cational situation" and that the Carnegie Foundation would respond if But-ler took "aggressive action." The foundation was responsible for listing in-stitutions for approval by the Association of American Universities.

Brown and Howe then went on to Boston to confer with Charles R.Haskins of Harvard, an officer of the AAU. Expectations, therefore, werefor a $1 million endowment campaign incorporating funds raised by theuniversity, the allocation from the Men and Millions campaign, and grantsfrom the General Education Board.

Accompanying this planned fund drive, Hilton U. Brown proposed toexpand and relocate the university. At the July 1914 board meeting, he re-viewed the increasing inadequacy of the Irvington campus. "We shouldcommit ourselves to some great, tangible, visible extensive enterprise," I~etold the board. "We are accused by some of our friends of lacking suffi-cient faith to do things in a large way." For the time being this would not bediscussed outside the board. To do so would be an "unsettling influence."Brown insisted that a committee to consider the daunting cost of invest-ing in non-income-producing new campus property include William G.Irwin and Marshall T Reeves, to whose financial resources the board be-lieved it must turn in such a project.

Amidst this ambitious talk, realities intruded. The 1914 operating deficitamounted to $7,397 By 1915 the deficit was the largest yet. Directors lim-ited action to no more than forming a committee to raise funds to cover it.

A new accounting system was adopted at the suggestion ofthe CarnegieFoundation president. Barton W Cole became secretary-treasurer of theboard, following Chauncey Butler, who had to resign in order to take hisailing wife to a better climate. A new field secretary, Carl Van Winkle, was

204 Butler at Irvington

employed to try again for funds hom Disciples' congregations and to at-tempt collection of pledges still outstanding from the last fund drive. Themillion dollar drive remained shelved, at least until the Men and Millionscontribution might be forthcoming. For the moment it seemed crucial thatdirectors meet operating costs. Borrowing that drew down the endowmentcould not go on. Rising costs could no longer be curtailed.

Uncertainties about the war in Europe probably mandated caution. Ad-ditionally, board members with large vision may have squirmed with im-patience as typical board meetings bogged down in minutiae. Directors werestill being called on to approve every last expenditure, down to a dollar forstamps or sixty cents for engine oil. It would be years before the universityadopted practices employed by most business concerns. Routine and bud-geted expenditures could have been entrusted to the college administratorssubject to audit, but directors did not delegate responsibility. Further, inconsidering a new accounting system, a temporary plan to raise money, orappointment of a new secretary-treasurer, directors did not act directly; acommittee always had to be appointed. No wonder that it was often hardto assemble a quorum.

Despite intrusions of immediately pressing matters, Brown, reelected onJune 10, 1915, resumed his call for planning a new campus and a majorfund drive. The college president reinforced him. T. C. Howe cited the grow-ing population, the need for a larger and more attractive campus, and theconstruction of more modern facilities. He reported larger enrollmentsand better retention of students. The work of the religion faculty and fieldagent Van Winkle had improved relations with "our church constituency."Butler was now on the list of "the best independent colleges," a member ofthe Association of American Colleges, and approved by the American As-sociation of Universities. Butler had also been elected to membership inthe North Central Association of Colleges and Secondary Schools.

For Howe it had been the "best year in my connection with the college."He believed that Butler faced a great opportunity: "Shall we be big enoughto grasp and use the opportunity? ... It is now or never." He saw a grow-ing confidence in the college on the part of the city. Butler must retain itwhile "reaching out for the entire State beyond."

Directors responded by ordering the buildings and grounds committeeto study the matter of relocating the college. This action was important be-cause the committee chairman was Dr. Henry Jameson. It was he whowould provide a reprise of his uncle's service. Dr. Patrick Henry Jameson

Toumrd a New Vision 205

had been the major figure in the earlier relocation to Irvington in 1875. Itwould be largely Dr. Henry Jameson's efforts that led to acquisition of thespacious new Fairview campus. At a June 14, 1916, meeting, the directorswere willing to pass, unanimously, a resolution offered by Brown to askJameson's committee to report at the July meeting. No quorum appeared.Momentum was lost.

A bare majority of the board met in August. Jameson's committee hadtaken an important step, however. George E. Kessler had been retained tostudy future needs for land and buildings. The committee was also consult-ing the Carnegie Foundation. Brown deemed "the future" the only impor-tant problem facing the directors.

The future, however, as Howe's report to the directors pointed out, in-volved need for more faculty, more pay for the faculty, and reduced teachingloads. All this in the flce of another year's deficit of over $9,000. More-over, the popular athletic program and physical education courses werejeopardized by the wholly inadequate gym. Male athletes also might dis-appear if called "to the colors" in connection with the Mexican border war.Howe and Underwood were now away, busy helping the Men and Mil-lions drive. Locally, the university's alumni appeal merged with Van Win-Ide's statewide canvass to bring in some small nrnounts. Forty-two alumnifrom twenty-six classes gave $528. Marshall Reeves assisted Van Winkle inbringing in some contributions from churches hitherto unresponsive. De-spite the General Education Board's advice, the major [Lind drive by theuniversity would not commence until the Indiana part of the Men and Mil-lions drive was completed. Its end was still two years away.

At the new year, the directors received Kessler's report. He had consid-ered the space needs at the Irvington campus and the alternative, a new lo-cation. The directors, still meeting with only a bare majority present, votedto establish a committee to consider and report on the report.

The Great War came to involve the United Srares. No quorum appearedfClrthe April meeting. The interested directors met as an executive com-mittee. Judge Hacker was the only representative of the Columbus group.Plans might go fCHward, but no action was anticipated for the duration ofhostilities.

War or no war, with or without a quorum, plans for rhe future remainedbefore the board. In July 1917, directors received Kessler's report. He rec-ommended a new site be obtained. Bounded by railroad tracks and resi-dential housing, the Irvington campus could nor expand. Kessler suggesred

20G Butler at Irvington

. imal exnenditures to meet immediate needs-enlargement of the gymnunl, r .to enable it to double as chapel-but even these expedients should pr~ceedonly after wartime uncertainties about enroll~ent figur~s were cl~nfied.The report noted that depressed real estate pnces made It a good tlm,e topurchase. The dozen directors present supported Brown and Howe. Fhecollege should go ahead "full steam." But where would the money comefrom? "The same question has been raised every year of our corporate ex-istence," Brown reminded directors. They must do what was necessary andhave faith that good work would inspire support.

Both Brown and Howe were concerned about the repeated lack of a quo-rum. Just over half of the twenty-one directors assembled when a quorumwas attained. Directors most faithful in attendance were those already con-vinced that Butler must commit to a larger role. The influential Colum-bus group did not seem interested in such plans. Other inactive directorsmay have viewed their position as merely honorary.

Howe tried to jar inactive directors by tying their responsibilities to thewar effort. The college was engaged in "helping to produce the 'educatedmen'" needed by the government. Howe acknowledged that directors werebusy men and that times were "stressful," but urged them to take a moreactive interest in the affairs of the college for the sake of the city, state, andchurch, not to miss opportunities provided by Buder's growing importanceand potential. He also reminded them of the importance of maintainingenrollments in the face of wartime manpower requirements. Citing Gen-eral Glenn of Fort Harrison, who urged men to remain in college so theywould be prepared to assume responsibilities in the postwar period, Howenoted that only .5 percent of the six million able-bodied men in Americawere attending college or other postsecondary institutions. The war effortwould not suffer if these remained in school. Admittedly, Buder and otheruniversities must offer preparation for war service in order to attract andkeep male students. Even as some directors were considering the presentand future of the college, its immediate and long-term needs, and its rela-tion to national affairs, others were taking their leave. Further business hadto be deferred as numbers dropped below a quorum.

By autumn, directors' concerns were turned in a new direction. Mar-shall Reeves brought William G. Irwin, Z. T Sweeney, and other support-ers to present his resolution asking the board to reaffirm its charter goalsand to renounce "destructive criticism" contrary to scripture and affirm loy-alty to the "restoration movement." The introduction of this topic was pre-

Tou/ard a New Vision 207

cipitated by a split in the church over suspected modernism arllong the fac-ulties of some church-related colleges. The controversy had spilled over intothe continuing Men and Millions campaign. Without regard to the war orthe future, the board passed Reeves's resolution, then reversed itself, thenordered it to a committee for study, and finally discussed that committee'spresentation. Clearly those directors who were more interested in planningfor a larger university were nonetheless careful at this meeting to accom-modate the sensitivities of the church group.

Springtime brought board elections. Brown appointed a nominating com-mittee of five, stressing that they must elect directors who would carry outthe intent of the founders and the charter, to the end that the university re-main a "monument" to "our people." Going beyond this acknowledgmentof the university's origin, having made his bow to the Columbus friends,he again launched his crusade for a greater Butler. "If we have hiled so farit is owing to lack of resources .... We have not failed, but why have wefallen short?" In an implied allusion to the Reeves resolution, he claimedthat the problem was board inaction, not faculty beliefs or teachings. Di-rectors satisfied with what had been done should vote not to change. If notsatisfied, they should elect men to the board who would bring about change.

Brown primed the directors for the June elections. "We have commit-ted ourselves to finding a new location, but [our] committee has done noth-ing." Directors should look at how other institutions were doing thesethings, not just "stare at the expense." "I want to commit myself to a largeenterprise worthy of the Church, Butler University, the city, state, and wholeNorthwest," Brown continued. If reelected as board president, he wouldwant a big, concrete project on which to work. Otherwise, directors must

seek new officers.Both Brown and Howe prescribed remedies for shortcomings that the

new board must address. New departments were essential: education, jour-nalism, home economics. Higher faculty salaries were required. Labora-tory equipment had to be modernized. And, as usual, repairs were neededfor aging structures even iflcept to a minimum in anticipation of new build-ings. Most important, the directors agreed to inspect possible new loca-tions for the college at the forthcoming June meeting.

Seventeen of the twenty-one directors appeared for the important meet-ing and elections of June 12, 1918. The Columbus, Indiana, group wasrepresented by Marshall and Girnie Reeves, Z. T Sweeney, George E Quick,and William G. Irwin. Directors immediately learned that the norninat-

208 Butler at Irvington

ing committee was divided on choices for the board. It had taken two pro-longed sessions to come to a compromise. Two vacancies would be fi.lledby John E. Canaday, a minister from Anderson, Indiana, candidate of theColumbus group, and Merle Sidener ex '97, favored by the adherents ofthe "greater Butler" movement. Sidener was a civic leader, on the staffof theIndianapolis Sun, and a Sunday school teacher at Third Christian Church.The board would now include ten adherents of the Columbus group. Be-sides the two Reevescs, Irwin, Sweeney, and Hugh Th. Miller, four minis-ters could be counted. They were Canaday, William H. Book of Colum-bus, Thomas Grafton '80, of the Irvington Downey Avenue ChristianChurch, and Allen B. Philputt of Indianapolis Central Christian. JudgeMarshall Hacker of Columbus rounded out the group.

Representing the Ovid Butler descendants were Chauncey Butler '69,Scot Butler '68, Perry H. ClifFord '89, and John M. Judah. With JudgeJames Clark, T. C. Howe '89, Hilton Brown '80, and Dr. Henry Jameson,eight members of this 1918 board favored relocation and expansion, as didMerle Sidener. George A. Davis of New Salem followed Brown's lead, andGeorge F. Quick of Columbus gave a one-vote edge to the Columbus group.

Two important steps were taken at this June meeting. The directors ac-cepted Will Irwin's motion to empower an executive committee of five to

direct university affairs, making it less important for the full board to finda quorum at its meetings. The executive committee could work moreefficiently than the full board of twenty-one. Its actions would be bindingunless countered by the full board. It took five meetings to agree on whetherthe committee would consist of five or seven members. At length a com-mittee offivewas appointed: Clark, Brown, Howe, Irwin, and Sidener. Theywould serve one year with appointment each January by the president ofthe board. The second important action of the June meeting was inspec-tion of possible new sites for the college. None of the locations seem to

have made a favorable impression on the viewers.With the war's end, Brown resumed his efForts. His resolution to the di-

rectors called for a commitment to build on a new site in view of Kessler'srecommendations, to select an agent to raise a million dollars, and to fixon a new location. Diplomatically, the resolution urged that directors keepthe university's charter and purpose in mind. It was important to reassurethe Columbus lamilies who were concerned lest the connection with thechurch be lost among the new directions being contemplated.

Brown's resolution asked for a committee that would act-one not en-

Toward a New Vision 209

tirely made up of board members. He hoped that the move to a new cam-pus could be made by the start of the 1923-24 college year and that a pub-lic announcement ofthe plan could be issued at the 1919 Commencement.In the lengthy discussion that followed, it was obvious that Brown's care inreferring to Buder's ties to the Disciples had been essential. Directors voicedconcern for the religious atmosphere at Buder and the place of the college"in the brotherhood." In the end Brown's resolution received a unanimousvote that included the ministers (Book, Canaday, Grafton, and Philputt)and the Columbus contingent (Marshall Reeves, Judge Hacher, GeorgeQuick, and William G. Irwin) as well as the known enthusiasts for reloca-tion (Howe, Perry Clifford, and Brown himself).

At the next meeting the site committee was appointed with Howe,Brown, Jameson, and Girnie Reeves hom the directors, plus city leadersArthur V. Brown, L. C. Huesmann, John H. Holliday, and James H. Lowreyfrom the city park board. A committee to select a financial agent to directa fund drive listed William G. Irwin as chairman, with Merle Sidener aswell as James K. Lilly, who was not a board member.

The end of the war had undoubtedly imparted renewed vigor to the ex-pansion plans. It may be that Hilton U. Brown's forceful resolution stemmedfrom a personal source. Hilton J r. had been killed in action just eight daysbefore the Armistice. Perhaps the senior Brown thought of a greater Butleras a monument to his son. Hilton J r., called "Tuck," talented and popularwith fellow students and faculty alike, had left Butler in 1917, a second lieu-tenant with Battery D of the Seventh Regiment Field Artillery. Grievingbut proud, Brown embarked after the 1919 Commencement to visit his son'sgrave in France and attend the signing of the Treaty ofYersailles.

Alumni were well aware of the inadequacies of the Irvington campus.Howe, meeting with regional alumni groups, stressed Butler's needs andforecast future changes. The Alumnal QlIrtrter!:y noted the urgent need forendowment to provide for a larger, better paid faculty, more classroomspace, and student housing. "Present quarters are a disgrace to the college,"it editorialized. A larger gym and assembly hall, a "women's building," andmeeting rooms for clubs should be available. Too many social "occasions"were necessarily held downtown, a situation both inconvenient and haz-ardous to "morals." Even before the war, alumni had carried on active effortsto organize graduates of the university for its support. Howe used hisFounders' Day address in 1917 to keep before the alumni and friends ofthe college the need for expansion and endowment to support it.

210 Butler at Irvington

Speakers at the Founders' Day celebration in 1919 alluded to a larger uni-versity. No plans were announced to relocate and enlarge. But the Quarterlynoted that "something new and vital is brewing." Brown's expectations fora public announcement at Commencement that spring were not realized.

The October issue of the Quarterly disclosed the resolution of the boardto find a new site for the college and related George Kessler's part in ad-vising a move. Alumni were informed of the pending fund drive. They wereto expect a public announcement in the spring.

On Founders' Day 1920, the alumni heard from President Howe thatButler had to "go forward or decay." As it was, he told his audience, "Weare in sore straits." Alumni were informed that non-Butler city people werepledged to help through the new committee of twenty-five and the pro-posed committee of 100. Plans for a "new Butler" included the big-timeathletic program for which the citizenry yearned.

Reverend Henry Pritchard, secretary of the Disciples' Board of Educa-tion, spoke forcefully: Butler had to have money-quickly. Indianapolishad not done enough for a college that had been in its midst for seventyyears. According to statistics in the Quarterly, Butler was serving 437 stu-dents fi'om the metropolitan area compared with 141 hom the rest of In-diana and 58 fi'orn other states.

At Commencement, alumni had a chance to express their thoughts attheir annual meeting. The graduates were still uncertain about moving awayfrom Irvington. Hilton U. Brown iterated the directors' commitment toexpansion. He called for discussion without bitterness. John W Atherton'00, now the university's financial agent, pledged to get the funds neededfor the college's growth wherever it might be located. The alternative toIrvington, he disclosed, was Fairview Park on the city's far northside. Heassured alumni of support from city businessmen and even from rivalsWabash College and DePauw University. Brown chimed in with barely sup-pressed excitement: Fairview was "a rare piece of ground."

Emsley Johnson termed the site decision a minor matter, emphasizingthe need to raise rnoney and praising the work of the committee of twenty-five. Julia Graydon Jameson '90 (Mrs. Alexander Jameson) said she lovedthe old campus, but she loved Butler more. She would accept a move if itwas necessary. Her fear was that something of the "essence of old Butler"would be lost.

Any momentum generated at these occasions toward Butler's new goalssoon dissipated because of the directors' inertia. The fund drive was de-

Touiard fl New Vision 21 1

layed in 1921, ostensibly because of the brief postwar depression. Decisionon a new site also stalled. At alumni meetings, speakers appeared to be shift-ing around, reported]. T. C. McCallum, speaking for his class of 1916.

A petition to the directors called for locating Butler at Fairview. Someboard members, other alumni, and leading citizens of the city signed it.They included Scot Butler, Hilton U. Brown, John Holliday, Arthur v.Brown, Charles Mayer, Fred Hoke, Franklin Vonnegut, Barrett Moxley,Harper Ransburg, Fred Ayres, Hugh Th. Miller, William G. Irwin, andEmsley Johnson.

The idea that the college might leave Irvington brought anguished out-cries from village residents. Yet the necessity was evident. The Quarterlyfinally recorded the decision to relocate to Fairview in the January 1923 is-sue. The old college's outgrown buildings, the noisy and no longer neededrailroads nearby, the lack of space for expansion, and the inconvenient ac-cess to the city made the decision inescapable.