Humble Beginnings and Endings

Charles Dodrill

There have certainly been few who could match Dr. Charles Dodrill as an awesome presence on campus. He was indeed such, and not only on campus but in the central Ohio community and in national theater circles. But, it wasn’t always so. When "Chuck" came to Otterbein College in the late fifties he was a beginning theater teacher with an MA degree, and as such was pretty low on what was overall a low salary scale. (Photo from 1961 Sibyl.)

As many such persons did, Chuck sought to supplement his income with summer work, and ended up working for Sanders "Sandy" Frye (photo from the 1961 Sibyl at right) in the business office, which at that time included responsibility for buildings and grounds. Sandy wanted to update and correct the maps of campus properties, and so Chuck was given the job of walking all over campus carrying a clipboard and pushing a blaze orange measuring wheel. He was to re-measure every significant dimension of all campus property.

Chuck, with his height, thin build, clipboard and measuring wheel, walking around the campus every day, created an image not likely to be forgotten.



 

David Deever (myself, left photo)

In the interest of fairness, I must likewise admit to my humble beginnings at about the same time. I also worked for Sandy Frye, full-time during the summer and part-time during the school yea r. While Chuck was pushing the measuring wheel I, along with my friends Jim Shackson (middle photo, still living in Westerville) Kenny Joyce (right photo, since deceased) and were given the job of cleaning the accumulated muck from out of the heating tunnels that connected the campus buildings. (Photos from the 1961 Sibyl)

These tunnels, which still exist and have been added to, are about four feet wide and four feet high inside. Sandy made for us a small wagon just the right size to fit between the pipes, into which we shoveled the muck. When it was full we would drag it to the nearest manhole, lift it up through and out, and dump it into a container provided for us and eventually emptied by others. Each time we emptied the wagon we allowed ourselves a few minutes to lie flat on our backs on the ground to get out some of the kinks. (No such thing as OSHA then.)

By the end of the day we were filthy and achy, hardly able to stand straight for a while. But, at least, in contrast to Chuck, we had the advantage of doing our humble work underground and out of sight.



John Franklin Smith

The honor for the most noble of humble endings surely belongs to Prof. Smith. In the early 1950’s Prof. Smith reached the mandatory retirement age of 65. Against his will, he was forced to retire from his position as professor of speech. (You could do that then.) So, Prof. Smith asked if there was also a mandatory retirement age for janitors, and when informed that there was not, asked if he could have a job as a janitor. As a result, he became the janitor of the men's gymnasium, and from that position was a friend, mentor, and occasionally money lender to another generation of students.

But, it didn’t stop there. Somehow, in his first year with the On The Road program in the early sixties, Charles Kuralt heard of Prof. Smith and included him in one of his episodes. The national attention this brought landed him a spot on What’s My Line, the show where a panel tried to decide from among Prof. Smith and two impostors which was the real professor turned janitor.

I remember talking with Prof. Smith after his return from the show in California. He claimed that he had been able to say "Otterbein College, Westerville, Ohio" 17 (or some such number) times during the program. A true speech teacher to the end.

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