The Archive Alcove

As we celebrate Earth week, it’s interesting to look back at some of the early response on campus to the growing environmental movement of the 1960s and 1970s. An earlier post showcased some archival items from the first Earth Day at Grinnell, on April 22, 1970. Two years later, in April of 1972, much of the attention was focused on the construction of a futuristic structure, a geodesic dome, and the upcoming commencement speaker who had inspired this design: Buckminster Fuller. The choice of commencement speaker, in fact, had been determined by student ballot, and Fuller was the clear choice of the class of 1972.

While few may have heard of that name today, Fuller was one of the most charismatic and beloved figures in the environmental movement of this era. An architect and engineer—known for his futuristic designs that emphasized sustainability, or what he called “ephemeralization”—Fuller inspired many with the hope that better design and technological improvement could solve the environmental crisis brought on by industrial capitalism. Whereas some environmentalists chose to join the “back-to-the land” movement, and return to pre-industrial ways of living, Fuller encouraged his followers to design a new future, living in his iconic geodesic domes that would save energy and resources, modeled on the ideal of a “spaceship earth.” One of Fuller’s most energetic followers would be Stewart Brand, creator of the Whole Earth Catalog, which promoted this vision of technology as a liberating force, and the key to sustainability. “Fuller said…you can’t change human nature,” Brand recalled, “but you can change tools, you can change techniques, you can change civilization.”

In April of 1972, as the graduating class awaited Fuller’s commencement address, another group of Grinnell students were busy constructing two geodesic domes of their own that were based on Fuller’s design. These students were part of a special topics course that spring, ART 295: Geodesic Domes, that had been created to respond to the student interest in Fuller’s work. Taught by William Trotter, in the art department, the course “included lectures on spherical trigonometry and structural engineering” and focused on the construction of two domes. One would be a larger model that would appear behind the commencement stage, and be used for outdoor events in the future, while a much smaller version was created to serve as a kind of jungle gym for the nearby pre-school. These domes were an iconic symbol of one strand of environmentalism that embraced technology as a potential solution to the ecological crisis unfolding.

A Break from the Grind: ”Skip Days” in the 1970s

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On April 15, 2026

In 2025-26

In April of 1975, A. Richard Turner was installed as the ninth President of Grinnell College. An art historian, who studied Renaissance Florence and Leonardo da Vinci (in particular), Turner was eager to set a new tone on campus after the fierce political battles and protests of the late sixties and early seventies, which had pitted students against the administration. In one of his first moves, Turner declared a “skip day”—announcing one April evening that the next day (which was forecast to be a beautiful and warm day) he would cancel all classes and work, providing free food, entertainment, and kegs of beer outside the Forum for students to enjoy—a kind of Midwestern carnival.

“Skip Days” became a beloved tradition during Turner’s presidency, although faculty were less than thrilled about having classes, labs, and tests cancelled without any prior notice (Turner would declare one skip day each Fall and Spring, announcing it the night before). Yet, Turner always pointed out the need for students to have this kind of unexpected break, from the grind and pressure of work. It was also a chance to build community spirit on campus. When George Drake became president of the college in 1980, the faculty voted to end “skip days,” although SGA tried to carry on the tradition for a few years unofficially. But it faded into memory by the mid-1980s.

Special Edition: Apollo, Artemis & the Artistic Perspective

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On April 7, 2026

In 2025-26

As the crew of Artemis II send back stunning images from their lunar orbit, it’s worth noting the role that visual imagery and the arts played in NASA’s original Apollo program, some 50 years ago. While iconic photos like “Earthrise” (1968) or “Blue Marble” (1972) dominate our visual memory of the events, NASA actually created a full scale arts program for the Apollo missions, reminiscent of the artistic projects of the WPA era. Curator of the National Gallery, Hereward Lester Cook, wrote to many top (and rising) artists, asking them to seize this historic moment to come down to Cape Canaveral to spend months observing and engaging with the Apollo program (Apollo 8-13), noting:

As Daumier pointed out about a century ago, the camera sees everything and understands nothing. It is the emotional impact, interpretation, and hidden significance of these events which lie within the scope of the artists’ vision.

Artists were given housing, stipends, and unfettered, behind-the-scenes access to NASA’s work. In all, the program attracted nearly 200 artists ranging from Annie Leibovitz and Andy Warhol to Robert Rauschenberg and Vija Celmina (even Norman Rockwell participated).

NASA selected some of the most evocative pieces of artwork to form a special exhibit, “Mission Apollo” that premiered at the National Gallery of Art, before travelling to select locations around the country.

At the end of January, 1971, Grinnell College was fortunate to host that exhibit for a week, which contained nearly 50 paintings, drawings, lithographs, and watercolors, that went on display at the Fine Arts Center. Pictured here are two items from that exhibit.

Robert Rauschenberg, “Sky Garden,” 1969, 6-color lithograph

Weather Alert: Grinnell’s First System of Weather Warnings (1888)

By admin

On April 4, 2026

In 2025-26, Uncategorized

We have certainly experienced a lot of turbulent weather in the past week or two—with temperatures varying wildly from day-to-day, and severe cold fronts bringing thunderstorms (with the accompanying threat of high winds, hail, or tornados). How did prior generations of Grinnellians deal with this kind of volatile and dangerous weather?

One of the first notable steps towards a public warning system appears to have developed in the spring of 1888, when the college joined the federal government’s network of voluntary weather observatories. Run by the Signal Service, in the Department of War, this program created a network of volunteer observatories throughout the country, which would record a series of meteorological measurements each day, using calibrated instruments provided by the government, and in turn, would receive daily forecasts and weather charts (via telegraph), which would be communicated to the public by flying large, specialized weather flags, atop their buildings. Goodnow Hall served as the first weather observatory, when the college joined this system in the spring of 1888, with Prof Samuel Buck (Mathematics and Astronomy) overseeing this project.

Goodnow, which was built only a few years earlier, in the wake of the devastating tornado of 1882, was designed to serve as the college’s new library and astronomical observatory. To serve as a weather station, two large poles were added to the building—one, was attached to the observatory tower, and served as the flagpole used to fly the 6 large weather flags that an inland station would use (coastal sites, carried a larger number of storm flags particular to maritime conditions), while the second pole was erected in the center of the building’s roofline to carry the sensitive anemometer, which sent electrical signals to a self-recording device (a chronograph) that captured a constant record of wind direction and speed. Pictures & drawings of Goodnow from this period usually include these two features of the building, which disappeared later. And the fluttering weather flags would have been a prominent feature of the local skyline (each flag was more than 6 feet in length, so that they could be seen from far away.

The most prominent and important of the flags was the “Cold Wave” flag (pictured here), that warned of a coming cold front that could lead to dramatic storms throughout the year. The danger that such cold fronts posed were particularly on the mind of Americans in the spring of 1888, when Grinnell joined this forecasting network, because of two, recent, traumatic events. On January 12, 1888, what started out as a very warm and mild day turned into one of the fiercest blizzards in the upper Midwest that struck unexpectedly that afternoon, trapping many school children who were trying to walk home from their rural schoolhouses. It is estimated that nearly 300 people died from exposure in what became known as the “Children’s Blizzard”; and in March, an equally sudden and ferocious blizzard descended on the Northeast (again leading to a staggering loss of life, and paralyzing much of the region). It seems likely, then, that the timing of Grinnell’s entry into the Signal Service network was driven by these recent events. Throughout the nation, people clamored for better ways to communicate forecasts and warn about impending weather dangers. The flags that flew each day over Goodnow were a visible attempt to address those concerns, and would continue to alert the public until radio broadcasts rendered this system obsolete.

The Women’s Edition of the Scarlet & Black

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On March 28, 2026

In 2025-26

In the spring of 1905, the editorial board of the Scarlet and Black turned over their paper to a special editorial team that would create the paper’s first “Woman’s Edition,” which appeared on March 1st. The all-female team—led by Adah Hopkins ’05 (who would go on to teach Sociology at the college before carving out a trailblazing career in the newly professionalized field of social work)—noted the surprising lack of women in shaping the college’s newspaper. At a time when women outnumbered men at Grinnell (267 to 195), and had such “a prominent share” in the literary clubs and cultural life of the institution, the lack of female input and leadership in the school paper was striking: “for several years the Scarlet and Black has been entirely in the hands of the men of the institution.”

While the first woman’s edition would aim to reflect the interests, perspectives, and voice of women on campus, they also conveyed their hopes “of future appearances some years hence, of Woman’s Editions of forty pages, properly illustrated” that would serve “as a record of the history and conditions of co-ed life at Grinnell.” For a dozen years or so, the S&B carried on this tradition of creating a special women’s edition each year, produced by an all-female team (the spelling changed to women’s, instead of woman’s, and they dropped the title of “editresses.” Over time, these special editions would start to include a growing numbers of letters, sent in by alumnae, expressing their appreciation for these annual issues. But like so many other elements of the Progressive era, this tradition ended in 1917, disrupted by the First World War never to really resume. Still, these editions continue to offer a unique “record of the history and conditions of co-ed life at Grinnell” and are fascinating to explore.

1905 Editorial Statement: 1905 editorial

Alumnae Letters: Alumnae Letter Section

Documenting the Glee Club’s “Western Tour” (1909)

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On March 23, 2026

In 2025-26

In the spring of 1909, the Men’s glee club spent an entire month touring the Great Plains and Pacific Northwest. It was estimated that they travelled about 5,000 miles, through 11 states; performing 26 “secular” concerts, 6 “sacred” concerts, and a number of informal events at high schools and Y.M.C.A.s, to “an aggregate audience of some fifteen thousand people”—all at a grand cost of five thousand dollars.

To commemorate this momentous tour, members of the Glee club created a scrap book that recorded each day of the trip, along with pictures and commentary. A local printer published a small run of this work as The Western Trip: To the Coast and Back with the Iowa College Glee Club: A History of the Trip by James Normal Hall and David Wright Wilson (a copy of which is in special collections in Burling Library, for anyone who wants to read about their adventures).

One noteworthy feature of the book is that it represents the first publication of James Norman Hall (class of ’10), who would go on to become a prolific writer and novelist (most known for his Bounty trilogy that began with Mutiny on the Bounty in 1932). It is also interesting to see how the book ends, with a note to future readers who will encounter it’s yellowing pages in decades to come…

Spring Break Travels (1909)

By admin

On March 7, 2026

In 2025-26

While college Glee Club had a tradition of utilizing the breaks to perform throughout Iowa, or nearby states, the spring of 1909 witnessed something much more ambitious in scope, as the Men’s Glee Club lined up a month’s long, performing tour of the American West. The club departed from Grinnell in their own “private Pullman car especially fitted for the trip, with all the modern conveniences and comforts.” At first, the Iowa Central line pulled their private car to Minneapolis, where it joined a larger train on the Great Northern Railroad line, that took them across the Great Plains, and ultimately to Seattle, where they joined the Oregon Line, then the Denver & Rio Grande Line, as they made their way through Idaho, Utah, Colorado, and Nebraska (see the schedule below). From March 13th to April 12th, the Glee Club toured in style. There was some controversy when they returned, however, since they decided to finance the trip by charging $1 admission to future concerts in Grinnell, generating push-back from local students and townspeople who were not used to paying admission to hear them perform.

The Ballad of the Squirrels

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On March 2, 2026

In 2025-26

In the past few years, squirrels seem to be everywhere on campus. From the giant inflatable squirrel that welcomed new students in August, to the gleaming squirrel statute carved out of a block of ice in January, these charming rodents have become the unofficial mascot of Grinnell College.

This 1894 cartoon and poem, “The Ballad of the Squirrels,” shows that our love affair with these furry denizens goes back a long way. The cartoon shows Walter Scott Hendrixson—the Dodge Professor of Chemistry, long-time Grinnell faculty member, and apparently squirrel “devotee”—spending some quality time with campus squirrels. Hendrixson was known to feed them regularly, along with other faculty members (the poem mentions the college organist, John Ross Frampton, and the classics professor, William Arthur Heidel).

This yearbook image shows that the student artist did a good job of capturing Hendrixson’s likeness (particularly his impressive, walrus-like, mustache).

Grinnell’s love affair with squirrels was part of a larger trend in the early 20th century, as college campuses across the country sought to transform their grounds into more park-like environments, and actively encouraged birds and squirrels to become residents, helping mitigate some of the feelings of being isolated from nature that were affecting a generation experiencing rampant urbanization (as well as the disappearance of wildlife & wilderness in rural communities).

A Fateful February: The Busy Agenda of W.E.B. Du Bois in Feb 1905

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On February 23, 2026

In 2025-26

Note: this is a postscript to the previous week’s topic (about Du Bois’ 1905 lecture at Grinnell).

In the summer of 1904, W.E.B. Du Bois agreed to give a lecture in Grinnell as part of the community’s Y.M.C.A lecture series. The talk would be part of a larger Midwest speaking tour in January and February of 1905, taking Du Bois to various communities in Illinois, Wisconsin, and Iowa.

Yet, the first two months of 1905 proved to be some of the most consequential weeks in Du Bois’ career. Dismayed by the accommodationist stance of Booker T. Washington, and the hard-ball tactics of his “Tuskegee Machine,” Du Bois chose this moment to publicly break with Washington. In January, he published an article, “Debit and Credit” in The Voice of the Negro magazine, accusing Washington of systematically bribing the African-American press to silence his critics. The essay set of a firestorm of controversy, with Du Bois’ receiving numerous letters in February asking for proof or further comment. While travelling to and from Grinnell, for example, Du Bois was drafting letters to Oswald Garrison Villard, the powerful editor of the New York Evening Post, explaining his accusations, while also writing to his friend, William Monroe Trotter (editor of the influential Guardian paper) to provide more concrete evidence to satisfy skeptics. The controversy served as a sort of Rubicon, pushing Du Bois to turn this growing rift into an official break—Du Bois resigned from several Washington-allied organizations in February, such as the “Committee of Twelve” and the Afro-American Council (AAC).

It was during this period—February of 1905—that Du Bois and a few of his close associates held key meetings to launch a new, and more aggressive, civil rights organization, which would culminate in the Niagara Movement (named after the conference, that summer, held near Niagara Falls). Because the Niagara Movement would lay the groundwork for the creation of the NAACP a few years later, historians have long been interested in tracing its origins. We know that one of these meetings was held around February 14th, when Du Bois was in Boston for a week of talks that were nestled between the Wisconsin and Iowa legs of his speaking tour (Du Bois was lecturing in Wisconsin until Feb. 6th, was in Boston from the 8th through the 15th, and then was supposed to start his Iowa tour at Grinnell on Feb. 17th). William Trotter, a leading critic of Booker T. Washington, assembled Du Bois and others for a meeting in his Boston home. Within two days, Du Bois was on a train to Grinnell, but snow prevented him from making the connection in Chicago on Feb 17th. Sometime between Feb 17thand Feb 28th, Du Bois held another meeting in Chicago, coordinated by Charles Edwin Bentley, and a pivotal meeting in Buffalo, at the home of the civil rights leader, Mary Talbert, that developed the final blueprint for the Niagara Movement (that meeting was kept secret, to avoid “spies”, but we know it included Trotter, Du Bois, Bentley, Ida B. Wells, Frederick McGhee and others). From there, Du Bois made an unexpected trip to the twin cities (Feb 26-28), to meet with Frederick McGhee to further develop plans for the summer conference. And then Du Bois boarded a train from St. Paul’s to Grinnell to deliver his rescheduled lecture on March 2.

It appears, then, that the snowstorm and cancellation of Du Bois’ Iowa circuit came at a key moment when he was racing to organize this new political movement (although Grinnell audiences at the colonial theater would have had little clue about all these developments unfolding behind the scenes).

Visualizing The Color Line: W.E.B. Du Bois’ Grinnell Lecture (1905)

By admin

On February 14, 2026

In 2025-26, Uncategorized

In the early 1900s, the Y.M.C.A. lecture series was an important institution in the shared intellectual life of Grinnell, bridging town and gown. Each year, a local committee of the Y.M.C.A. lined up a program of nationally renowned politicians, writers, musicians, orators, theologians, or performers who would appear monthly at the Congregational Church, or the Colonial Theatre (the two largest venues in town).

In February 1905, Grinnellians were looking forward to the next scheduled speaker in the “Y” series, the famed historian, sociologist, and intellectual, W.E.B. Du Bois. In fact, the prior speaker, Senator Robert LaFollete (a lion of progressive politics) had reportedly told the assembled crowd “Miss anything else this winter, but do not miss hearing Professor Du Bois.” Unfortunately, a Valentine’s Day snowstorm cancelled Du Bois’ train (even back then, winter weather made scheduling visits and speakers a fraught endeavor). But the committee coordinated with Du Bois to reschedule his lecture for Thursday, March 2nd, when he spoke before “one of the largest audiences of the season.”

His address, entitled “The South and Its Problems,” focused on the systematic discrimination that African Americans faced in the Jim Crow South, and Du Bois illustrated these systematic consequences through a series of novel “charts…which greatly assisted the audience to a clear understanding of the importance of the problems and the direction recent developments have taken.” These colorful “charts” had been carefully created by Du Bois and his students at his Sociological Laboratory, at Atlanta University, where they creatively experimented with new kinds of data visualizing strategies that turned census data into evocative infographics. Each year, Du Bois and his students focused on a particular theme: in 1905, they were working on the issues surrounding health and medicine; the previous year had focused on crime; and other recent topics included Churches & Religious Life (1903), Work & Labor (1902), Education (1901), Business (1899), and Urban Life (1897).

Just a few years before his Grinnell lecture, Du Bois had showcased 63 of these prints—what he called at the time “data portraits”—at the Paris Exposition. Some of those items, pictured here, were likely featured in his Grinnell lecture at the Colonial Theater.

Today, Du Bois’s work in the field of data visualization has begun to receive much greater attention and recognition from scholars interested in reclaiming these pioneering forms of quantitative advocacy and graphic design. Those interested in seeing more examples can explore the full collection at the library of Congress; the 2023 exhibit at the Cooper Hewitt museum, Deconstructing Power: W.E.B. Du Bois at the World’s Fair; and the interactive website, The Du Boisian Visualization Toolkit.