John R. Rogers

Milton Stumpf Really Knew His Stuff

by Wyatt Newman

If I learned anything at Rogers that had a major impact on my future it had to be learning how to type. As I remember, I took the class because I figured I'd need to know how to type in preparation for the rigors of college, at least that's what my mom said.

Even though I'm one who avoids mechanical things as much as possible, I took to the typewriter quickly. I enjoyed it so much, even the old manuals, that I was one of the last to give it up. My teaching colleagues would laugh at me for still using the manual in the workroom at school instead of the electric. When the school got computers and they jumped to use them, I cautiously advanced to adopting the electric, vowing the computer seemed unnecessary and too complicated to me. The catalyst that finally bumped me into modern communication times was Ed Mauget and his rogers60.com website. The very idea that I could communicate with classmates prior to the Big R-'00 was too fascinating to pass up, being able to send a letter faster than it took to lick a stamp.

So, a First Mate commendation to Webmaster Ed Mauget. But the official First Mate status award for this final piece in the series goes to typing teacher Milton Stumpf. He taught us a skill, a skill more important than we could imagine back in the 50s. I doubt any of us even knew what the word computer meant. One could go through life hunting and pecking on a typewriter, but on a computer? Hunting and pecking and zipping a message on a computer would be a super oxymoron on the Superinformation Highway.

Typing class was not what one would call a glamorous, academically or intellectually stimulating class. As a matter-of-fact, as a teacher-to-be, I couldn't imagine teaching a class that seemed so boring. Mr. Stump seemed bored himself, so much I almost felt sorry for him. His monotone voice, one that would be suitable in elevators in replacement of Muzak exuded boredom. His style was a polar opposite of whiz-bang dynamo teacher characters such as Cecil Johnson,Larry Coleman and Tracy Walters, teachers who possessed what the Army calls, "a commanding presence." Mr. Stumpf did double duty as the bookstore manager, as I recall. I could imagine him at a desk, with a gooseneck lamp and green eyeshade, going over the daily income and outgo figures.

How he must have dreaded the beginning lessons each semester! I can still picture him standing before the class, all of us attentive, knowing the importance of being there for our own reasons, his little platform with a typewriter on it. He was like a conductor of an orchestra as he had us follow him by tapping, "J-K-L, F-D-S," and so on. For us to avoid looking at the keys was our first real challenge. As the days advanced, we would work our way through the whole keyboard, although I apparently didn't get to the advanced stage as I still have to look at the top row of keys to find plus and asterisk keys and such.

It wasn't a class which would allow goofing off. We were kept too busy paying serious attention to his directions so as to not fall behind or actively banging away, unlike learning about prepositions, theorems, important dates, foreign words and formulas in the textbook classes. His steady, albeit one-tone voice, may have helped capture our attention. My Ed classes at Wazzu taught the best way to get attention of a class is too talk softly as Teddy Roosevelt advised, not screeching like Patton did. Stumpf must have aced that lesson in his Ed class.

Every class has a favorite part or moment. The timed typing tests were mine. They were a combination of a track meet and a war movie. We knew we had to work against the clock--the pressure was on-- the signal of "Go!" was an adrenalin shot to me like a starter's pistol in the 880 race. The loud "tap-tap-tap-tap...Ding!" sounded like a bunch of machineguns firing, the "ding" of the typewriter carriage return bell like a bullet ricocheting off a rock, "just like in the movies!" Everyone has his own excitement treats, and all that clacking-bang-ding followed by a sudden silence when Stumpf said, "Stop!" was one of mine. Then we'd have to do the boring part, count how many words we had on our papers, but also a bit of anxiety in case we didn't pass muster. And of course, as in all classes throughout our schooling experience, we would ask each other, "Wha-zha-get?" To be able to say, "I got 232," and your partner at the double table we sat at say with a sound of defeat, "I only got 199," was equivalent to a first over second place in a foot race, although I usually came in second. My desk partner was a girl. I figured typewriters were more natural tools for girls to use, since in those days most girls were bound for teaching or secretarial duties, followed by housewifery. Wrenches, hammers and axes were for guys...not ten-thumb guys like me, but as a future teacher, I figured pencils, pens and chalk were all the tools I needed to master, never thought about using the typewriter beyond college.

We didn't really got to know Mr. Stumpf as we did other teachers. It was all business, which seemed natural after all, being part of the business department. I'll never know if his emotion-free, monotone approach made him a natural to teach a no-nonsense course like typing, or if years of teaching typing made him so flat that it reeked of boredom. Whatever. First Mate promotion goes to Milt, who so ably prepared us for the battles of modern times. To be able to type, using all eight fingers instead of the two indexers, made it possible to do things more quickly and easily such as, well... This!

-Wyatt

Comrade

By Ed Mauget

Wyatt Newman is a First Mate. We never shared any classes nor participated in any organizations together at Rogers, so how do I even know him? I would have at least known OF him, judging by the number of pictures of him appearing in the 1960 Treasure Chest. The origins of our acquaintance are dim with age. Wyatt and I think we simply met in the hallway through a catalyst called Ken Kelling.

I knew outgoing Ken Kelling from classes we shared. Ken was on the track team with Wyatt. Each morning before classes, Ken, Wyatt, and other members of the track team circled the first-floor rectangular hallway route once or twice. At the same time, Bob Parry and I hung out across the hall from the office to do people-watching - as in girl people. Thus Ken and Wyatt passed us once or twice each morning. It seems likely that Wyatt and I met through Ken.

Those were paranoid times of the Cold War. I found hilarity in the commie spies in movies and TV shows that called each other "Komrade." I would imitate them to be a wiseacre. Somehow, Wyatt and I took to calling one-another "Komrade." One of us would somberly look at the other and mutter: "Komade, tonight ve vill liberate North Zentral!"

Freedom of speech not withstanding, those were not choice words to say in the '50s. I relate this now because 44 years may have erased the Commie hysteria, and, besides, neither Wyatt nor I will need a security clearance in our retirement years - I think. We were just KIDDING!

That was the extent of interaction with Wyatt for 40 years. We graduated and drifted into the World. In 2000, I started a Web site with a guest book for the class as a means to clean up years of lost contact with Rogers classmates. Bingo! One day an entry from Wyatt appeared in the guest book. Today, I regard this as a true miracle. Wyatt is just not the kind of person to gravitate to the Internet.

I emailed him, using our old "Komrade" pap, to see what would happen after 40 years. Wyatt came right back, still in the role. I found that he lived in Hillsboro, Oregon then. I told him that I would be at Intel in Hillsboro two weeks later. I was invited to dinner at Nancy and Wyatt's house. We had a good visit and I met Nancy, his intelligent wife that hooked Wyatt to the Internet. Within two weeks the Newmans and Maugets shared a table at the Class of '60 40th reunion.

We've exchanged email weekly since. The Kellings, the Newmans, and the Maugets spent several days in Gearhart, Oregon, in September, 2002. We named this event Micro-Reunion 2002. We planned another MR for 2004 slated for the Carolinas. Two-thirds of the group attended that MR. Wyatt and Nancy missed because they were moving to Bend, Oregon.

The remainder of this piece is what I've gleaned as an abstract of a Wyatt Newman resume. I've discovered interesting things about Wyatt. He is an imaginative writer. He has written over 48 blurbs for the Rogers 1960 Web site. Without regular new content, the site would be a dead brochure. Wyatt doped out a ten-year plan to keep updates flowing into the site until the next decade reunion in 2010. Wyatt has also written regular columns for his local newspaper, the Hillsboro Argus. I suspect there is more writing activity that I don't know about.

Wyatt dislikes poetry, but thrives on jingles and ditties - which are poetry. His serious interests include history and politics, but not technology. He was a captain in the U.S. army. He says politics is the only adult game. We remember that Wyatt was an ASB President and active in political kinds of organizations while at Rogers. I get hints of later noteworthy achievements, such as being president of the Hillsboro Planning Commission for over 20 years. He fought Wal Mart and won. I think he was or is the president of the W.S.U alumni association at some level in Oregon. He has been a political campaign director for local candidates. I've heard rumors about Wyatt quietly receiving honors from organizations.

He is retired after teaching history in two Oregon school systems. He keeps busy planning, organizing, campaigning, and writing, as his achievements indicate, but has been known to take a part-time paid job or two. He has delivered flowers for a local florist during holiday crunches. Being a spiffy dresser, he wears a coat, tie, and vest during those runs. He is a certified driving instructor. He has hair-raising stories from that job that put Newhart to shame.

Sports? Wyatt has coached track and runs every morning. I believe that he is going to help coach a Gilchrist, Oregon high school track or cross-country team at the first school where he taught.  He is an ardent W.S.U. football fan, although I suspect that is more about Wazzu loyalty than the mechanics of the sport.

He likes tried-and-true systems and values. He has an eclectic collection of old movies that he watches yearly. Titles include "D-Day," "Friendly Persuasion," "Miracle on 42nd Street," "It's a Wonderful Life," and "The Man who Shot Liberty Valance."

Wyatt prefers established technology, but it doesn't have to be long-established. The movies are on VHS, not DVD, but VHS was new not that long ago. I'm glad that Wyatt uses email. We've only had face-to-face conversations three times after 1960. Without Wyatt's email the Web site would be dead and I'd be missing contact with one of Rogers' stellar products and a truly good friend.

-Ed