Designing the University of Wyoming: The Arts & Sciences Building

Welcome back to our series chronicling the University of Wyoming’s architectural legacy and the fascinating stories behind it. Today, we’re diving into the history of the Arts and Sciences Building, a structure that not only shaped the physical landscape of the campus but also pushed the boundaries of university financing.

The story of the Arts and Sciences Building begins with the founding of the University of Wyoming in 1886. The College of Arts and Sciences, originally known as the Collegiate Department, was there from the start, forming the backbone of UW’s liberal arts curriculum.

In those early days, just five professors and two tutors, housed in Old Main, taught over 100 courses. Students could earn bachelor’s degrees in arts, philosophy, letters, or science. Talk about a heavy course load!

Wyoming’s statehood in 1890 ushered in a period of growth. By 1891, the faculty had doubled, student enrollment had tripled, and the Collegiate Department had been renamed the College of Liberal Arts. The stage was set for decades of evolution and expansion.

Postcard of the University of Wyoming campus, ca. 1930. Image ah100813, Photo File: Colleges and Universities – UW – Bldgs – General.

As UW entered the 20th century, the swelling ranks of students made the need for more classrooms painfully clear. Academic departments were scattered across campus, and the dream of bringing departments under one roof began to take shape. But turning that dream into reality would require navigating from boom to bust and pioneering new approaches to university financing.

The 1920s were a time of relative prosperity for the University of Wyoming. Oil royalties from University lands provided a steady, if variable, income stream. The UW Board of Trustees preserved these royalties in the University Permanent Land Fund, using only the income for operating expenses.

University of Wyoming faculty members when University of Wyoming President Arthur Crane arrived in 1922. Image ah300616, Ludwig & Svenson Studio Photographs, Coll. No. 167.

But as plans for a new liberal arts building began to solidify, the nation plunged into the Great Depression. This economic crisis would play a crucial role in shaping the building’s funding and construction, pushing the University to explore innovative – and controversial – financing options.

On December 7, 1933, UW President Arthur Crane presented a bold plan to the Board of Trustees. In a meeting attended by Governor Leslie Miller, Crane proposed seeking federal funds for campus construction projects, similar to those obtained by universities in Montana, Utah, and Minnesota.

At the top of Crane’s wish list was a liberal arts building with an auditorium. His proposal was thorough, even including estimates of how many local unemployed workers could find relief through the construction project. The estimated price tag was $300,000 (about $7,264,523.08 in today’s dollars). The financing plan was innovative: 30% would come as a grant from the United States or a federal agency, while the remainder would be secured by pledging income from University land funds.

The Board’s decision was far from unanimous. The motion to approve Crane’s plan passed by a narrow margin: 5 ayes, 3 noes, and 1 absent. This split vote underscores the controversial nature of the proposal, even among the University’s leadership.

Board of Trustees in 1930. President Crane is standing in the middle, wearing a light colored suit. Image ah301834, Ludwig & Svenson Studio Photographs, Coll. No. 167.

The next step was securing legislative approval, which came through House Bill 92. The bill passed the house by a vote of 43-15 and squeaked through the Senate 14-12 before being signed into law by Governor Miller on December 20, 1933.

With legislative approval secured, UW was ready to enter uncharted financial waters. The Public Works Administration (PWA) agreed to provide an outright grant of more than $80,000, but there was a catch: the University needed to provide security for a loan of $228,000 through the sale of University bonds.

This was unprecedented. Never before had the University of Wyoming issued bonds to fund a construction project. A similar plan had been rejected by the legislature just two years earlier. The proposal raised a flurry of questions:

Would these bonds constitute a general state debt, requiring voter approval as per the constitution?

How would University bonds be rated and sold in the financial markets?

Could these bonds be considered a legal investment for state-held funds, like bonds from Wyoming cities, counties, and school districts?

If the answer to the last question was yes, it opened up an intriguing possibility: the bonds could be purchased by the state treasurer, with the interest paid by the University into its own fund for its own use. It was a bold, innovative approach to financing in higher education.

To settle these questions, a lawsuit was brought to determine the constitutionality of the plan. In June 1934, the Wyoming Supreme Court ruled in favor of the University on all counts, paving the way for this groundbreaking financial maneuver.

However, the ruling wasn’t without its critics. Justice Fred H. Blume, while supporting the decision, couldn’t resist sharing some rather flowery philosophical musings on the matter. In a statement that reads more like Victorian literature than a legal opinion, Justice Blume waxed poetic:

Is there no end? Many of us were not brought up in the bosom of luxury, nor did we sleep in marble halls. The village schools and their humble surroundings and the university campus graced with edifices hoary with age seemed to us to satisfy the longings for learning.

Warming to his theme, Justice Blume continued with a dire warning from history:

We have heard of the existence in the past of cities, once humming with the glad refrain of thousands of happy human beings, lying now desolate with their stately baths, their roomy porticoes, their sacred shrines in ruins, because no space, no corner, no nook had become exempt from the invasion of public burdens. Do ruins tell tales merely to be scorned?

Despite these poetic cautions, progress marched on. The innovative bond plan was put into effect. All of the bonds were purchased by the state treasurer using money from the University Permanent Land Fund—a solution as elegant as it was unprecedented.

With funding secured, the project could finally break ground. In the summer of 1934, Cheyenne architect William Dubois was selected to design the building. The chosen location was the site of the Little Theatre, built as a gymnasium and armory in 1903. That fall, the old gym and theatre were demolished to make way for the future.

A student production of J.M. Barrie’s play, Dear Brutus in UW’s Little Theatre in 1934 not long before the theater was demolished. Image ah302437, Ludwig & Svenson Studio Photographs, Coll. No. 167.

On January 26, 1935, the university accepted a bid from F.J. Kirchof Construction of Denver. Ground was broken on February 5, and the cornerstone was laid in a ceremony on November 4.

One of the most fascinating aspects of the construction was the level of student involvement. UW students contributed significantly to the project, cutting stones from a quarry northeast of Laramie and digging the sewer mains. This hands-on approach not only aided the construction but also fostered a sense of ownership among the student body.

Students build concrete curb and gutter on campus, 1933. The Federal Emergency Relief Administration provided jobs for unemployed students during the Depression, foreshadowing their role in constructing the Liberal Arts building. Image ah302416, Ludwig & Svenson Studio Photographs, Coll. No. 167.

By late May 1936, despite some challenges with cost overruns, the building stood ready for action. The Honors Assembly on May 26 christened the new auditorium, followed by a student production of George Bernard Shaw’s Caesar and Cleopatra, baccalaureate services, and finally, commencement on June 8.

Just completed in 1936. Note snow on the ground. Must be May in Laramie. Image ah003872, Ludwig & Svenson Studio Photographs, Coll. No. 167.
Enjoying the new, spacious auditorium after the building opened in 1936. Image ah302636, Ludwig & Svenson Studio Photographs, Coll. No. 167.

The new facility quickly became a hub not just for the university, but for the wider community. It offered a venue for outside groups to hold conferences, expanding UW’s role as a center for gathering and learning.

The enjoyment of the new facility extended beyond the UW community. The new addition to campus offered opportunities for outside groups to hold conferences. Here is a meeting of the Wyoming State Federation of Labor in June 1936. It looks like some folks on the left and right were “photoshopped” into the image. Image ah302635, Ludwig & Svenson Studio Photographs, Coll. No. 167.

In 1956, the structure was renamed the Arts and Sciences Building, reflecting the college’s new name. This change marked the beginning of a period of significant growth. The oil boom of the 1960s funded both intellectual and physical expansion. New departments sprouted up: Social Work (1970), Computer Science (1971), Criminal Justice (1973), and Gender and Women’s Studies (1977), among others.

Eight decades later, the Arts and Sciences Building remains a hub of activity on UW’s campus. Its halls, once filled with the echoes of New Deal optimism, now resonate with the voices of modern academia. While the building has adapted to changing times, it stands as a tangible link to UW’s Depression-era ingenuity—a reminder of how far the university has come, and the innovative spirit that helped it get there.

See How the Campus Has Evolved Since the 1930s

The Arts & Sciences Building’s Depression-era construction was just one chapter in UW’s ongoing transformation. Curious about how other campus landmarks have changed since those New Deal days? Our virtual exhibit “Keeping History Alive: 136 Years of Progress” pairs historic photos from our collections with current campus shots to show how university life has evolved since 1887. You’ll see familiar buildings through the decades and get a real sense of how much—and how little—has changed over the years. For additional perspectives on campus development and architecture, explore our exhibit “University of Wyoming: A Brief History of Campus.”

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Bonds of Life and Limb: Women of the Union Pacific

In the rugged terrain of Wyoming, the railroad carves its path like a long river of steel, shaping the history and spirit of the place. Yet, the stories of those who spend their lives on the rails, laboring with grit, metal, and determination, often remain in the shadows. The American Heritage Center’s “Life Between the Rails” oral history project aims to change this by documenting, preserving, and sharing the experiences of Union Pacific employees—particularly those whose voices are less often heard—women and individuals from underrepresented communities.

Locomotive hostler Shirley Tunge at work in Nebraska’s North Platte yard, ca. 1975. Box 266, Union Pacific Historical Society collection, Coll. No. 10713.

On New Tracks: Women Enter the Rail Workforce

Many of the “Life Between the Rails” interviewees began their careers in the 1970s, a time of upheaval and opportunity for the Union Pacific Railroad. It was during this period that the company began its equal opportunity initiatives, opening doors for women to step into roles previously reserved for men – such as switchmen, brakemen, conductors, and engineers.

Women railroad workers in Cheyenne, ca. 1992. Those pictured include four participants of the Life Between the Rails project. Photo taken by Paul Chesley. A similar photo taken by Chesley appeared in the book America: Then & Now: Great Old Photographs of America’s Life and Times-And How Those Same Scenes Look Today (1992) by David Cohen. In the book, Cohen placed the 1992 Cheyenne group photo alongside a comparable image of female railroad workers from the Cheyenne rail yard in 1918. Photo courtesy of Celeste Malloy.

The women who embraced these roles faced the same tough conditions as their male counterparts – intense physical labor, biting winds, and long shifts – but also bore burdens uniquely their own. Celeste Malloy and Kris Tomanek joined the UP in the mid-1970s and early in their careers were employed as switchmen in the Cheyenne rail yard. At certain times their pregnancies were a secret hidden beneath their coveralls. No policy barred them from working, but one unrelenting manager made his stance clear. As Celeste recalls, “We had one manager that absolutely did not want pregnant women out here. He didn’t want women out here at all… ‘You’re pregnant, you’re out.’ I couldn’t afford to go home and live on unemployment.”  

Celeste Malloy, July 9, 2024. “Life Between the Rails” oral history project, Coll. No. 12918.

In this audio clip, Celeste elaborates on the issue:

For women like Nancy Bath, the challenges went beyond physical labor. Hired in 1977 as a switchman in Laramie, Nancy balanced her duties on her family ranch with late shifts in the Union Pacific train yard. But it wasn’t just the grueling hours that weighed on her – it was the reluctance of some male coworkers to offer the guidance she needed to master her tasks. “You have to remember,” Nancy notes, “this was a changing time period. Women were coming into the workforce in male-dominated fields. That did not sit well with some people. I always felt if you did your job then they treated you better, but it was a different time.”

Nancy Bath (third from left) shown in a Laramie Boomerang photo dating to when the Union Pacific Railroad moved switching operations from Laramie to Cheyenne in 1986. The clipping was donated to the AHC by Nancy Bath. Scott Steere (far left) was also interviewed for “Life Between the Rails.”

Even now, the echoes of that time follow Nancy in dreams – dreams of being lost, of never quite reaching where she needs to go:

Tried and Tested Bonds

Though the challenges were many, those who worked the rails forged bonds as strong as the iron tracks beneath them. “The best thing about it [railroad work] was the camaraderie,” said Kris Tomanek. “The friends I still have from working with them… it’s like a club. They’re all in the same club. You know what it’s like to work for the railroad. You know what it’s like to be out in the middle of nowhere and see the northern lights.”

Kris Tomanek, May 22, 2024. “Life Between the Rails” oral history project, Coll. No. 12918.

There is a certain magic in the loneliness of the rail line, a sense that the vastness of the land binds those who work upon it. In the words of interviewee Teresa Straub, “All of the experiences on the railroad are unique, I think. The whole atmosphere, it’s just something that’s in your blood.” 

Teresa Straub, May 21, 2024. “Life Between the Rails” oral history project, Coll. No. 12918.

As Kris Tomanek said, “You trust these people with your life and limb, literally.” In the following audio clip, Kris tells the story of the time her life was saved by a coworker who pulled her out of the path of a silently rolling freight car, in the middle of winter night in the Cheyenne rail yard. 

Danny Roeseler, another railroad veteran, was hired by the UP in 1974 and worked as a switchman, conductor, and engineer. Danny shared several stories of close calls – her life spared more than once by quick-thinking coworkers.

Danny Roeseler, July 10, 2024. “Life Between the Rails” oral history project, Coll. No. 12918.

On one occasion, a brake failure sent Danny’s runaway train cars barreling toward disaster. Feeling she had no other choice, she saved herself by jumping off the engine and into a snowdrift. In another near miss, it was a coworker who helped her avoid grievous injury. Trust, it seems, is the secret currency of the railroad, passed between hand without words. In this audio clip, Danny remembers the incidents: 

Roberta Winkler, who had a 34-year career, with UP, reflected, “I think the thing I miss the most is my railroad family – I have not felt anything like that on any other job.”  That family-like bond extended beyond just day-to-day operations. After traumatic incidents, the railroad community was there, with coworkers offering support and even counseling.

Rising to the Challenge: Grit and Grace on the Rails

For many women, overcoming the expectations of male coworkers was as much a part of the job as hauling freight. Diana Archuleta, who joined the Union Pacific in 1977, faced these challenges head-on. “It was pretty tough,” she admits, but it wasn’t without its bright spots. While Diana worked as the conductor on a soda ash train, a senior brakeman recognized her dedication and took her under his wing: “You know, I’ll take care of you kid. I’ll help you out. We’ll get through this.” In time, even the grumpiest of coworkers came around, and Diana learned that persistence and patience could eventually win over the staunchest opposition.

Diana Archuleta pictured in a green vest at a 2013 “Capitol for the Day” event at the Green River Depot. Photo courtesy Union Pacific online newsletter InsideTrack.  

Hear more of Diana’s story in this clip:

Building Confidence and Lifelong Friendships

The camaraderie found on the railroad was something that set is apart as a workplace. As Kris Tomanek recalls, working with an all-female crew was a rare but rewarding experience: “We were very responsible and worked hard… in those situations it was warm and fuzzy because we were all women and we thought this is pretty cool.”

Teresa Straub was hired by the Union Pacific in 1975 and worked as a switchman, brakeman, conductor, and engineer. Teresa described how a good crew working together efficiently could make even the toughest jobs enjoyable. “If you had a switch crew that worked well together it was fun. Just fun.” Teresa supported her coworkers in many ways, even soothing their injuries with her skills as a massage therapist.

For these women the railroad was more than a job – it was a forge in which their confidence and sense of self were empowered. As Celeste Malloy reflects on her time with the UP, “I think it gave me a lot more confidence knowing that I could do these different jobs… knowing that I could learn carpenter helper, I could learn switchman, I could learn engineer. I think it gave me confidence overall.”

The railroad became not just a workplace, but a space where women discovered their strength, where they learned to trust their bodies, their minds, and one another. The friendships and support systems they created still ripple outward, influencing the lives of others long after the work is done.

Interviewee Sally Meeker’s mother, Myrtle Mason Forney, handing up train orders to a passing train crew at Sherman Station in Wyoming, circa 1944. As a young woman, Myrtle worked as a telegrapher and station operator for the UP during World War II. Myrtle’s story illustrates that women have been important contributors to railroad operations for generations. “Life Between the Rails” oral history project, Coll. No. 12918.

With gratitude to the Union Pacific Foundation for funding this important project, and to the participants who generously shared their memories, we ensure that the stories of these remarkable women will endure – a testament to those who lived, worked, and found their place in the long, winding history of the railroad.

To explore more railroad history, visit the American Heritage Center’s virtual exhibits The Art of the Railroad and Hell on Wheels: Union Pacific in Wyoming. The first examines the cultural impact and enduring mythology of railroads, while the second explores the rough boom towns that sprang up during the construction of the very lines these pioneering women would later work and maintain.

Post contributed by Tana Libolt, “Life Between the Rails” Project Assistant.

Posted in oral histories, Railroad History, Uncategorized, Union Pacific Railroad, Women in the workforce, women's history | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Joker – The Clown Prince of Crime

Joker is one of the most recognizable and iconic fictional characters in pop culture. The character’s origin dates to the publication of DC Comics Batman #1 in the spring of 1940. Joker was introduced as a criminal mastermind and Batman’s archnemesis. As a comic book character, Joker was a psychopath with a sadistic sense of humor, but this portrayal evolved, in part due to regulations by the Comics Code Authority which did not approve of sadism or gory violence. By the 1950s, Joker had become a goofy, thieving prankster.

Cesar Romero was the first actor to bring the character to life on screen in the 1960s television show Batman. Romero was nearly sixty and had a long career in film and television before William Dozier cast him as Joker.

Cesar Romero in costume as Joker. Box 24, William Dozier papers, Collection No. 6851, American Heritage Center, University of Wyoming.

Romero spent an hour a day in the makeup chair, to adopt the character’s clown white face with a slash of red for a mouth. The makeup artists had a challenge. Romero refused to shave off his trademark moustache, so they simply applied extra layers of white makeup. Romero loved playing the Joker, saying “Once you get into that costume and get the wig and makeup on, you change completely. It was a ball to whoop it up, laugh, scream. It was a hammy part.” Romero’s Joker had a hysterical cackle which was inspired by Cesar Romero’s actual laugh. The laugh went on to become one of the defining characteristics of generations of future Jokers in television, movies, cartoons, and video games.

Romero’s Joker first appeared in the 5th episode of the Batman television show, titled “The Joker Is Wild.” The script for that episode was written by Robert Dozier, son of Batman producer William Dozier.

Page of the revised script for the Batman episode “The Joker Is Wild,” December 13, 1965. Box 37, William Dozier papers, Collection No. 6851, American Heritage Center, University of Wyoming.

The storyline of “The Joker Is Wild” begins with Joker literally sprung from the Gotham State Penitentiary – by a giant spring.

Before long, Batman and Robin are summoned by Gotham City Police Commissioner Gordon. The superhero duo leaves behind a wholesome afternoon snack of milk and cookies to rush out to the Batmobile in pursuit of the evildoer Joker. After a series Joker’s dastardly deeds, madcap pranks and dustups between the dynamic duo and the bad guys, Joker threatens to unmask Batman and Robin. The program ended on a cliffhanger. Viewers tuned in the next night to see the follow-up episode – “Batman is Riled.” Would Batman and Robin be unmasked? Or would justice prevail? In the end, there was more of Joker’s trickery, but Batman and Robin outsmart him and capture Joker and Queenie, one of his henchmen.

Cesar Romero in costume as Joker and Nancy Kovack as Queenie. Box 24, William Dozier papers, Collection No. 6851, American Heritage Center, University of Wyoming.

Romero, as Joker, appeared in 20 episodes of the Batman TV show from 1966 to 1968. Among the most memorable Batman episodes of that era is “Surf’s Up! Joker’s Under!” In it, Joker and Batman face off riding long boards in a surfing competition. That episode captures the essence of Romero’s Joker as a campy, wacky villain.

Romero also appeared as Joker in the 1966 movie Batman. In the film, he teamed up with Penguin, Riddler and Catwoman to form the United Underworld. At their United Underworld headquarters, the villains were prone to squabbling and Joker was not above playing practical jokes on his fellow evildoers, saying “a joke a day keeps the gloom away.”

The plot of the movie has Batman and Robin facing off against the United Underworld. The Joker dehydrates the ambassadors to the United World Organization’s Security Council and he and the rest of the villains abscond with the powdered ambassadors. It is only when Batman and Robin recover and rehydrate the ambassadors that the world is saved from the threat of the Joker and the other villains.

Batman and Robin, surrounded by their archenemies from 20th Century Fox’s feature film Batman. From the left, Penguin, Joker, Riddler and Catwoman attack the Dynamic Duo. Box 24, William Dozier papers, Collection No. 6851, American Heritage Center, University of Wyoming.

Cesar Romero was the first of more than half a dozen actors to play Joker. Among the notable are Jack Nicholson as Joker in Tim Burton’s 1989 film Batman. Mark Hamill also took a turn at Joker, voicing him in video games and the 2016 animated feature Batman: The Killing Joke.

Other more recent portrayals of Joker include Heath Ledger as Joker in the 2008 superhero film The Dark Knight. Ledger’s Joker was psychopathic and sadistic, setting the stage for the 2019 film Joker, in which Joaquin Phoenix portrayed Joker as a violent, mentally unbalanced, failed circus clown. Taking the character of Joker to a very dark place, the 2019 Joker was the first live action film from the Batman series to receive an R-rating. It was also the first film to explore Joker’s origins in depth.

In the upcoming 2024 sequel, Joker: Folie á Deux, filmgoers can expect to see a reprise of Joaquin Phoenix as Joker. Phoenix’s Joker is one of the most twisted villains on the big screen. Joker has exceeded even his 1940s darker comic book roots and is a far cry from the campy Joker of the 1966-1968 Batman television show, where he was first called the “clown prince of crime.”

To learn more of Joker’s history, see drafts of the scripts for the 1960s Batman television show, including the episodes titled “The Joker Is Wild” and “Surf’s Up! Joker’s Under!” in the William Dozier papers at the American Heritage Center.

Post contributed by AHC Writer Kathryn Billington.

Posted in Actors, Adaptations, Batman Franchise, Comic Book Villains, Hollywood history, Pop Culture, Pop Culture Icons, television history, Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Witness to a Watershed: A Journalist’s Chronicle of 1948 Palestine

In the tumultuous years following World War II, Palestine found itself at a critical juncture. The British Mandate was coming to an end, and tensions between Jewish and Arab communities had escalated into open conflict following the United Nations’ vote for partition in November 1947. As British forces prepared to withdraw, both sides engaged in increasingly violent clashes, each seeking to secure territory and strategic positions. It was in this volatile and complex environment that American journalist Robert Conway of The New York Daily News found himself at the epicenter of the escalating conflict.

The situation was rapidly deteriorating into a full-scale war, which would culminate in the declaration of the State of Israel in May 1948 and the subsequent Arab-Israeli War. Conway’s papers, now housed at the American Heritage Center, offer a window into this pivotal period in Middle Eastern history. These documents, including press conference transcripts, reports, photographs, and Conway’s own observations, provide a multifaceted view of the tensions in the region during the late 1940s – tensions that continue to resonate in today’s headlines.

Robert Conway in Palestine, 1948. Box 28, folder 3, Robert Conway papers, Coll. No. 6062.

A Journalist’s Perspective on Rising Tensions

Conway’s papers reveal the intricate web of conflicts and security measures that characterized the situation in Palestine in early 1948. His collection includes striking photographs and detailed reports that bring the era to life.

One image shows British guards checking identities in front of the Public Information Office. The caption reads: “British Guards check identities in front of Public Information Office – sandbag sentry boxes and barbed wire everywhere.” This visual evidence corroborates Conway’s reports of the heightened security measures and tension in the area.

Box 28, folder 1, Robert Conway papers, Coll. No. 6062.

Another photograph depicts Jewish buses covered with armor plating. The caption explains: “Jewish buses covered with armor plate against Arab attacks – slits in windows are for machine guns.” This stark image illustrates the dangers of everyday life during this period and the measures taken for protection, foreshadowing the ongoing security concerns in the region.

Box 28, folder 2, Robert Conway papers, Coll. No. 6062.
A woman soldier of the Haganah, the main Zionist paramilitary organization in British-mandated Palestine on an armored bus in 1948. Note the pistol in her hand. This image captures the reality of everyday militarization during the conflict. The Haganah later formed the core of the Israel Defense Forces. Box 28, folder 2, Robert Conway papers, Coll. No. 6062.

Documenting Daily Life and Conflict

Conway’s reporting went beyond major events, capturing the daily tensions and struggles of life in a conflict zone. A document from the Public Information Office dated April 8, 1948, provides a stark summary of events over a 20-hour period, including:

06.50 hrs. Rural T.A.C. Abrạs′’Abdủl Salem Naji was found unconscious at his post at the entrance to the Slabit Billet in the Police compound. His rifle and 20 rounds of ammunition were missing.

The same document includes a chilling tally of casualties reported to the police over a period of about four months, with 851 Jews and 960 Arabs dead, and 1757 Jews and 1967 Arabs injured. These figures underscore the human cost of the conflict that Conway was witnessing and reporting on.

One particularly illustrative example comes from Conway’s recollection of an incident at the Jaffa Gate. He writes:

I remember on one occasion I was standing outside the Jaffa Gate, which the Jews bombed so often on partition. Inside these walls of Old Jerusalem, some 34,000 arabs [sic] laid siege to 1,500 Jews. The Jews were trying to blow up as many arabs [sic] as possible, to break the siege. And as I stood there, a truck came along. The driver looked like and Arab and spoke Arabic. He was waved through. But, just as he was about to pass the Arab roadblock, they got suspicious. He was stopped and questioned. He produced Arab identification cards. He stood on his dignity, like an Arab. Again he was about to pass along, when again he was questioned — this time by a Syrian who’d caught a glimpse of something in the man’s shoe. They made him take his shoe off — and found a Jewish Haganah credential card.

Box 28, folder 4, Robert Conway papers, Coll. No. 6062.

This account vividly captures the tension and suspicion that permeated everyday interactions, as well as the high stakes of mistaken identity in the conflict zone.

The Challenges of Reporting in a Conflict Zone

Conway’s papers also offer insights into the difficulties journalists faced in verifying information amidst conflicting narratives. Minutes from a press conference held at the Jewish Agency’s Press and Public Relations Office on April 4, 1948, reveal discussions about various reports and their accuracy. The document states:

There seems to be a whispering campaign about Jewish attempts to destroy or damage Christian or Moslem Holy Places in the Old City. I have been unable to get confirmation of any such rumours.

This highlights the challenges reporters like Conway faced in distinguishing fact from rumor and propaganda, a challenge that persists for journalists in the region today.

Conway captioned this photo: “Palestine Post (newspaper) building day after explosion still smoking… Building opposite ruined and windows broken for blocks. Jerusalem 1948 Feb.” Three people were killed and thirty were injured.
Box 28, folder 3, Robert Conway papers, Coll. No. 6062.

Historical Context and Contemporary Relevance

Conway’s documentation of events in late 1940s Palestine provides valuable historical context for understanding the region’s ongoing complexities. The issues of territory, security, and identity that Conway reported on remain central to discussions about the area today.

Some of the security measures Conway photographed, such as armored vehicles and checkpoints, have modern counterparts. His descriptions of siege conditions and the challenges of urban conflict continue to be relevant in contemporary reporting on the region.

Conway’s account of the truck driver incident at the Jaffa Gate highlights the long-standing difficulty of distinguishing between combatants and civilians in this conflict zone – a challenge that persists in many modern conflicts.

It’s important to note, however, that the current situation differs significantly from what Conway witnessed. The political landscape has transformed, new actors have emerged, and the nature of the conflict has evolved considerably over the past 75 years.

Studying Conway’s papers offers researchers and historians insight into the roots of ongoing regional tensions, while also illustrating how much has changed. This historical perspective can enrich our understanding of current events, though it should not be used to draw direct parallels without careful consideration of the many intervening factors.

Aftermath of the explosion in Jaffa, January 10, 1948. This photo captures the damaged Sarai (government building) and offices of the Arab National Committee. Moments before, the body of an Arab woman was removed from the scene. Conway noted that local Arabs prevented photography of the body’s removal, highlighting the tensions surrounding media coverage of the conflict. Box 28, folder 8, Robert Conway papers, Coll. No. 6062.

Reflecting on Conway’s Reporting

Conway’s work provides valuable insights into how international events were presented to American readers in the late 1940s. By studying these primary sources alongside other historical documents, researchers can gain a more nuanced understanding of this critical period in Middle Eastern history and its long-term regional implications.

Conway’s papers offer important historical context for the complex geopolitical landscape of the Middle East. They underscore the value of examining primary sources to better comprehend the multifaceted nature of long-standing regional tensions.

While historical documents like Conway’s reporting cannot explain current events in their entirety, they do provide a foundation for understanding the deep-rooted and complex nature of ongoing conflicts in the region.

Post contributed by AHC Archivist Leslie Waggener.

Posted in Journalism, Middle East Studies, Uncategorized, War correspondents | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Flashlights and Formulas: The Unexpected Tales of UW’s Engineering Building

The Engineering Building at the University of Wyoming, constructed in 1927, has been a cornerstone of technological education on campus for nearly a century. Originally housing both engineering and agricultural programs, the building reflects the university’s early focus on practical disciplines crucial to Wyoming’s economy. Over the years, it has undergone several expansions and renovations to accommodate the evolving needs of engineering education and research.

Architectural Inspiration

The original 1927 structure of the Engineering Building incorporates elements of Gothic Revival architecture, a style common in early 20th-century academic buildings. Its design is characterized by symmetry, featuring a central entrance flanked by two wings. The exterior is constructed from locally sourced sandstone. Large windows allow ample natural light to flood the interior spaces, while intricate stonework and decorative elements add to the building’s aesthetic appeal.

Side view of the Engineering Building not long after construction. Photo File: Colleges & Universities – UW – Building – Engineering.

One of the most intriguing features of the building is an inscription carved above the entrance. It reads: “Strive on – The Control of Nature is Won, Not Given.” This phrase caught the attention of author John McPhee during a visit to the campus. McPhee, known for his detailed explorations of the natural world and human attempts to control it, found the inscription particularly compelling. The idea that humanity could “control” nature, especially given Wyoming’s often harsh and unpredictable environment, struck him as both ambitious and perhaps hubristic. This concept became the seed for McPhee’s 1989 book The Control of Nature, in which he explores various human attempts to engineer solutions to natural challenges, from flood control on the Mississippi to volcanic eruptions in Iceland. The inscription, and by extension the Engineering Building itself, thus became a starting point for a broader examination of humanity’s relationship with the natural world.

Photo File: Colleges & Universities – UW – Building – Engineering.

Over time, the Engineering Building has expanded to meet the growing needs of the university. In 1959, the Petroleum Aeronautics wing was added, reflecting the increasing importance of these fields to Wyoming’s economy. A larger expansion followed in 1983, extending the building to the east and north. These additions allowed the facility to evolve alongside the advancing field of engineering, providing space for new technologies and growing student numbers while maintaining the original structure’s architectural integrity.

The 1931 Engineers’ Ball Incident

While the Engineering Building is known for serious academic pursuits, it’s also been adjacent to some colorful moments in university history. Take, for instance, the infamous Engineers’ Ball incident of 1931.

On a chilly December night, the annual Engineers’ Ball was in full swing at the nearby Half Acre Gym. Suddenly, who should appear but University President Arthur G. Crane, armed with a flashlight and a hefty dose of moral indignation. He was patrolling the parking areas surrounding the gym with a mission to  catch students engaging in what he deemed “inappropriate behavior.” Imagine the scene: the university president, flashlight in hand, peering into parked cars and startling unsuspecting couples.

Dr. Arthur Crane was UW President from 1922 to 1941. He would go on to serve as Wyoming’s Secretary of State and Governor. Photo File: Crane, Arthur Griswold.

But Crane didn’t stop at just shining lights. He was overheard making a particularly spicy remark: “You come out here for all your drinking and petting. You ought to go to First Street where you belong.” For context, First Street was Laramie’s red-light district at the time.

The queen of the Engineer’s Ball and her court, with a few children added. Perhaps the students slipped out of the dance afterwards? We’ll never know. Box 17, Ludwig & Svenson Studio Photographs, Coll. No. 167.

Unsurprisingly, the students weren’t too thrilled with this midnight moral crusade. They responded with a two-day strike, turning the campus into a hotbed of protest. Crane, not one to back down, called in the police. By December 6, the strike fizzled out, but not without leaving its mark on campus lore. The aftermath? A “morals” committee, new campus policies, and even the hiring of traffic policemen to patrol the grounds.

Article from The Branding Iron, January 6, 1932, detailing the formation of a student-faculty committee to address concerns following the Engineers’ Ball incident.

Engineering Grads Who Made Their Mark

While the Engineers’ Ball incident adds a touch of levity to the building’s history, the Engineering Building has also nurtured individuals who’ve gone on to make significant impacts on the world stage:

  • W. Edwards Deming, class of 1921, revolutionized industrial practices and is known as the father of the Total Quality Movement.
  • Tom Osborne, class of 1957, designed the world’s first scientific desktop computer from his home in 1964, paving the way for the personal computing revolution.
  • General Samuel C. Phillips, class of 1942, directed NASA’s Apollo Manned Lunar Landing Program, playing a crucial role in humanity’s greatest adventure.
  • H. David Reed, class of 1964, was part of the mission control team that safely brought the Apollo 13 astronauts home, earning him the honor of having a lunar crater named after him.
  • Mike Sullivan, class of 1961, served as both Governor of Wyoming and U.S. Ambassador to Ireland, demonstrating that engineering skills can translate into leadership in various fields.
This 1957 graduate of Converse County HS would go on to serve as Wyoming Governor and U.S. Ambassador to Ireland. You guessed it. It’s Mike Sullivan. Photo from high school yearbook.

The Engineering Building Today

The 1927 Engineering Building remains an active part of UW’s engineering program, housing important facilities and contributing to teaching and research. Since its origins as the School of Mines in 1908, the College of Engineering & Physical Sciences has expanded beyond this single structure, with engineering activities now spread across multiple specialized buildings on campus.

As it nears its centennial, the building stands as both a historical landmark and a functioning part of UW’s engineering complex. Its evolution reflects the broader changes in engineering education, from serving as the primary home of UW’s engineering program to its current role within a larger, multifaceted engineering campus.

Discover More Campus Stories and Characters

From President Crane’s flashlight patrols to the famous graduates who walked these halls, the Engineering Building has seen its share of memorable moments. Want to explore more campus history and see how other UW buildings have their own colorful stories? Our virtual exhibit “Keeping History Alive: 136 Years of Progress” captures campus life through historic photos paired with current shots, showing how the university campus has evolved since 1887.

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“Life Between the Rails”: National Hispanic Heritage Month and the Unseen Tracks of History

In the echoes of locomotive whistles and the steady rhythm of rolling steel, there lies a story often untold. From September 15 to October 15, we honor National Hispanic Heritage Month—a time to reflect on the deep and enduring contributions of Latina/o Americans to our nation’s history and culture. This year we share the voices of Latina/o employees from the Union Pacific Railroad. Their stories, preserved by the American Heritage Center, are a part of the ongoing “Life Between the Rails” oral history project—a project that seeks to document the contributions of those who have long toiled in the background.

Breaking Ground and New Tracks in the 1970s

The 1970s marked a turning point for Union Pacific. With the introduction of new anti-discrimination laws, the railroad diversified its workforce, opening the gates of opportunity to those previously relegated to the periphery. It was a time when Black, Indigenous, and other people of color began to take on roles previously dominated by others— as switchmen, brakemen, conductors, and engineers. These were not just jobs; they were pioneering positions that would pave the way for future generations.

Abe Madrid of Rawlins, Wyoming, was one of these pioneers. His career spanned various roles, from brakeman to engineer. In recounting his journey, Abe drew a stark contrast between his experience and that of his grandfather, Moses Vigil, who labored as part of a section crew responsible for track maintenance.

Back then (in the 1970s), they had just passed laws on discrimination. They said you had to hire so many minorities and so many women, so on and so forth, as trainmen. My grandfather, as a section man, they almost solely hired minorities because that was hard work. They were working on the tracks back then. They didn’t have a lot of the machinery and technology that they have now. They had to do a lot of that work by hand.

Abe Madrid. Photo courtesy of Tana Libolt.

The road to employment, however, was not a smooth track. Roy Sanchez, another voice from the project, remembers his attempts to join Union Pacific in 1965 and being denied the job he wanted. Roy applied many times over the next eight years, but the Trainmaster’s secretary in Laramie would tell him, “I’ll give you a job, but you’re going to be pounding spikes.” Determined, Roy continued to apply and, in 1973, became the first Latino Brakeman in Laramie, opening doors for many other Latina/o candidates who soon followed. 

Roy Sanchez. Photo courtesy of Tana Libolt.

Abe Madrid also spoke about the discrimination he and other Latinas/os faced, even after Union Pacific put new rules in place to ensure fairer hiring practices. Abe described the “subtle bias” some encountered and shared a story about a railroader who found a way around it.

There was a gentleman that worked here, he was a minority, but he married a conductor’s daughter and he hired out ….probably 1965 or ’66. Well, I don’t know if I should say it or not, but he changed his name from Martinez to Martin and his father-in-law was a conductor, and he was able to hire out with the name Martin.  I find that kind of comical in a way. He was a minority, but he changed his name so he could hire on the railroad.

Abe’s story is a poignant reminder of the lengths to which individuals would go to find their place on the rails.

Families Bound by Steel and Steam

For many, the railroad is more than just an employer; it is a legacy, a way of life passed down through generations. Debbie Martinez’s story is a testament to this legacy. Her grandfather, Steve Romero, spent his days riding the trains, fixing them on the go.

My grandfather was a railroader. He retired when I was born. He worked maintenance on the train, riding it to where it needed to go and fixing it along the way. Sometimes he would take us with him on the train to Salt Lake or Colorado.

Debbie Martinez. Photo courtesy of Tana Libolt.

Growing up in Rawlins, Debbie was surrounded by relatives and neighbors who worked for the railroad.  The Southside area of Rawlins has long been home to many railroad families.

I used to see a lot of the men from Southside walking early in the morning and late at night with their bags, walking up the hill to go to work. My next-door neighbor was working in the depot as a ticket agent, and when I started on the railroad, he was one of the brakemen with me.

This family tradition was not unique; it was a common thread among many families in the Southside neighborhood of Rawlins, where the railroad was the lifeblood of the community. The Southside, predominantly home to Latino families, was more than just a place to live. “It was like a big family,” Abe Madrid reminisced. Many of the families in the Southside neighborhood originally came from the San Luis Valley in Colorado. An “advance party” traveled to Wyoming from the Valley, discovering well-paid jobs with the railroad. They were soon joined by their San Luis family and friends, and those families still share a neighborhood today.

Rick DeHerrera, another voice in the collection, grew up immersed in this culture. His father worked on a section crew stationed in Lookout, Wyoming, and the family later moved to Laramie. Rick’s uncles also worked for Union Pacific, and this familiarity with the railroad helped Rick secure a job on a panel gang in Laramie. Rick eventually moved into train and engine service, where he began to face discriminatory treatment from some members of management.  Yet, despite the obstacles, his sense of community and shared purpose remained strong. 

Rick DeHerrera. Photo courtesy of Austin Jackson.

Camaraderie and Collaboration

The stories from the “Life Between the Rails” project reveal more than the history of employment practices; it reveals the resilience of railroad workers. Those who worked on the rails did more than drive spikes or direct trains. They built bridges—literal and metaphorical—fostering a sense of camaraderie and mutual respect among the different crafts that kept the railroad running smoothly.

Abe Madrid, as an engineer, had a strong regard for the maintenance workers he collaborated with.  His dedication to the safety of his colleagues did not go unnoticed, earning him the admiration of those who labored to keep the tracks in good repair. These are the quiet, uncelebrated moments that define the true spirit of the railroad community.   

Preserving Voices for the Future

Through the “Life Between the Rails” project, the American Heritage Center is ensuring that these voices are not lost to time. Audio recordings, interview transcripts, photographs, and artifacts are being carefully archived, making these stories accessible to historians, researchers, and the public.

As we celebrate National Hispanic Heritage Month, we’re looking beyond the broad strokes of history to  the individuals who made it. We recognize the men and women who, through their labor and resilience, laid down the tracks of progress, not just for themselves, but future generations.

Heartfelt thanks to the Union Pacific Foundation for funding the project and to all the participants who so generously shared their memories, knowledge, and insights.

To explore more about railroad history and the communities it created, visit the American Heritage Center’s virtual exhibits The Art of the Railroad and Hell on Wheels: Union Pacific Towns in Wyoming. These exhibits provide context for the railroad industry that employed generations of Latino families and the boom towns that became home to diverse communities of railroad workers.

Post contributed by Tana Libolt, Project Assistant for “Life Between the Rails.”

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A Night to Remember: Wyoming’s First-Ever Night Football Game

On September 1, 1988, Wyoming hosted BYU for what would be the 59th meeting between the teams, but this matchup was much more than a game against an old rival. This one required something extra special.

Two days before the Cowboys were set to play the Cougars on an historic night in Laramie, Kevin McKinney, the Sports Information Director for UW Intercollegiate Athletics, was still at work after sunset preparing for the big game against Wyoming’s old nemesis. His office, located adjacent to the north end of War Memorial Stadium, suddenly was flooded in bright light. That was the moment when he realized something special was about to happen.

He witnessed history come to light – literally. Wyoming was set to host its first ever football game at night.

Portable lights were installed, and that night, August 30, 1988, the technicians flipped the switch at dark and began adjusting the lights in preparation for the nationally televised game. When his office lit up, McKinney realized that was the first time War Memorial Stadium had ever been seen at night. As he stood up from his desk to look out his window toward the brightly lit stadium, he was overcome with emotions. “It felt surreal,” he recalled.

Members of the Western Thunder Marching Band prepare to perform in front of energetic Wyoming fans. University of Wyoming. Photo Service images, Coll. No. 514002, American Heritage Center, University of Wyoming.

This was an era when television networks were expanding sports coverage by broadcasting night games. There was one problem. Many football stadiums across the nation, like War Memorial Stadium, did not have lighting. The quick solution was to use portable lights to provide temporary lighting at stadiums.

Several years earlier, ESPN began broadcasting Thursday night double-headers featuring an early game in the eastern half of the country and a later game in the West. In 1988, the season’s opening double-header occurred on September 1, and featured Boston College hosting the USC Trojans at 5:30 pm followed by the Wyoming Cowboys hosting archrival BYU at War Memorial Stadium with kickoff set for 8:40 pm local time.

Musco Lighting, a specialty stadium lighting company, was contracted to provide the lights. Crews worked for several days to set up the lights. Four banks of lights were set up – two sets on top of the press box and two sets of lights affixed to telescoping booms positioned at each end of the east side stadium. The 440,000 watts of electricity was provided by a large generator mounted on a semi-truck. Portable lighting could be achieved by using much brighter lights – 6,000 watts per light compared with the standard 1,500-watt lights typically used in stadiums. Using fewer lights simplified transport and setup. Technicians made final adjustments to each light on Wednesday night in preparation for Thursday’s game.

Fans would be treated to much more than a night-time football game. September 1 was dubbed Super Thursday. The UW campus hosted special events during the day. A picnic was held at Fraternity Mall. Pregame festivities continued into the evening, including plenty of tailgating. The Cowboy Joe Club hosted a barbeque in the stadium parking lot.

By 7 pm, the 29,000 fans began making their way into the stadium. At 8 pm, pregame ceremonies included fireworks and, at kickoff, more than 3,000 balloons were released into the night sky.

Fans enjoy fireworks show before the game. University of Wyoming. Photo Service images, Coll. No. 514002, American Heritage Center, University of Wyoming.

At 8:40 pm, Wyoming hosted its first ever night game and its first ever nationally televised game. Though televised, many Wyoming fans still tuned to the radio for the play-by-play. Dave Walsh – the “Voice of the Cowboys” – and George Kay, who provided color commentary, were the radio commentators. “What a game; a night to remember,” Walsh recalled.

Wyoming came out on fire. Quarterback Randy Welniak ran for seventeen yards to score the first touchdown. The senior quarterback and his teammates never looked back. Welniak recalled of the game: “I remember running onto the field right before kick-off and the atmosphere in the stadium was absolutely electric.” He said it is the loudest game he remembers at War Memorial Stadium. He also said that “There was no doubt in our minds that we were going to win that game.”

#99, Defensive End Dave Edeen runs onto the field before the start of the game. University of Wyoming. Photo Service images, Coll. No. 514002, American Heritage Center, University of Wyoming.

The Cowboy defense was relentless and punishing. BYU’s starting quarterback Sean Covey was knocked out of the game. He was replaced by Ty Detmer, who went on to become a Heisman Trophy winner. Wyoming’s stout defensive players Pat Rabold, Mike Schenbeck, Dave Edeen, and Willie Wright combined for nine sacks. The defense also intercepted four passes. The Cowboys defeated the Cougars 24-14.

Musco Lighting brought lights to War Memorial Stadium four more times. On November 10, 1990, Wyoming again hosted BYU for a nationally televised game on ESPN. Though the game started at 2 pm, it ended in the dark.

In 1999, two-night games were played in Laramie. Colorado State University came to town on October 23 for a 7 pm matchup televised on ESPN2. On November 13, BYU, ranked 15th in the nation, paid the Cowboys another night-time visit. The Cowboys beat the Cougars 31-17. The students stormed the field and tore down the goal post. One section of it was marched down Grand Avenue and ended up inside the Buckhorn Bar, where it was placed above the bar after rowdy Cowboy fans autographed it.

Musco Lighting showed up again in the spring of 2000. This time, the company came with permanent lights. As night games became more common in the conference, UW took steps to install permanent lights. The Trustees approved the approximately $450,000 project at its May 6, 1999, meeting, but the project did not commence until the following spring. The installation of permanent lights was completed on June 23, 2000.

The new lights were first used for Wyoming’s game against the Nevada Wolf Pack on September 23. Sadly, few fans witnessed the historic moment. An early season storm caused poor road and travel conditions. The highway between Laramie and Cheyenne, where the visiting team stayed the night before, was closed. The team was delayed when the bus could not get to Laramie due to a 12-car pileup near the Summit east of Laramie. The 7 pm kickoff was pushed to 8 pm. The Pokes also went cold, and before the start of the 4th Quarter, most of the 13,078 fans headed home.

Three years would pass before Wyoming would win a game under the lights. Though not a true night game, Wyoming yet again faced old rival BYU on October 18, 2003, at 4 pm. The second half of the game was played under the lights, and first-year head coach Joe Glenn led the Cowboys to a victory in front of an energetic Homecoming crowd of 22,797 fans.

On September 4, 2010, Wyoming opened the season against Southern Utah. The highlight featured the opening of the Wildcatter Stadium Club & Suites, that were built into the Upper East Deck. University of Wyoming Intercollegiate Athletics records, Coll. No. 515001, American Heritage Center, University of Wyoming.

Seven more years would pass before fans witnessed their first true night game victory under the permanent lights. On September 4, 2010, Wyoming opened the season against Southern Utah. Something even more historic occurred that night when the Wildcatter Club and Suites was unveiled. The Wildcatter features 12 luxury suites and 256 indoor club seats – a nice place to be on a cold winter night in Laramie. War Memorial Stadium was now 60 years old, but with upgraded scoreboards, sound systems, stadium lights, artificial turf, and the addition of luxury suites, the venue has remained popular with Cowboy fans. There have been many exciting games played in the stadium, some of them under the lights. As for the 1988 night game against BYU, this was a night to remember.

Post contributed by University of Wyoming Archivist and Historian John Waggener.

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The Purple Crusader: Wilma Soss’s Financial Revolution

Picture this: It’s 1949, and a woman in a vibrant purple Victorian costume storms into a U.S. Steel shareholders meeting, demanding change. This wasn’t a historical reenactment gone wrong—it was Wilma Soss, making her theatrical debut in the world of corporate activism. Armed with an arsenal of costumes, props, and an unwavering determination, Soss would go on to revolutionize shareholder rights and challenge the male-dominated corporate world.

Wilma Porter Soss used her shareholder activism, her public relations skills, and her radio show to fight for the rights of small investors and women in the corporate world. She was not afraid to confront powerful executives and demand answers, accountability, and inclusion. Her papers at the American Heritage Center are a comprehensive source of information about her life, her work, and the movement she inspired.

She started out as a PR consultant for various clients, such as department stores, movie studios, and the silk industry. She also co-founded Federation of Women Shareholders in American Businesses, Inc., and the Municipal Bond Women’s Club of New York, which was the first organization of its kind to promote women’s involvement in the bond market. But her most memorable role was as a shareholder activist, who made headlines with her dramatic appearances at corporate meetings.

Wilma Soss dressed in a costume from the 1890s at the U.S. Steel stockholders meeting in Hoboken, New Jersey, 1949. Box 4, Wilma Soss papers, Coll. No. 10249, American Heritage Center, University of Wyoming.

Costumes and props used to make her points included a mop and pail, a safari hat, and a toy gun. She used the toy gun in 1954 to shoot a portrait of the president of the American Tobacco Company at a shareholder meeting to protest his refusal to answer her questions. The incident caused a sensation and made headlines across the country. She was not just a spectacle, but a force to be reckoned with.

Educating and empowering women financially was her mission. She recognized the numerous challenges and barriers women faced in the corporate world, and she fought to amplify their voices, increase their representation, and promote their financial independence. That’s why she used her shareholder activism and her radio program, “Pocketbook News,” to inspire women to take charge of their money. On her show, which aired on NBC radio from 1957 to 1980 and reached millions of listeners, she shared her insights and analysis on the latest economic news and how it affected small investors.

“Pocketbook News” fan mail written to Soss dated March 5, 1958. Box 3, Wilma Soss papers, Coll. No. 10249, American Heritage Center, University of Wyoming.

She also interviewed experts and promoted financial literacy and shareholder rights. She wrote, read, and recorded the scripts herself, showcasing her skills and knowledge in public relations and economics. Her voice was distinctive and sometimes harsh, but her message was clear and compelling. Soss was a pioneer and a champion for women’s economic empowerment.

Yet Soss did not just fight for women’s rights, but for the rights of all shareholders. She challenged the corporate elites and demanded that they respect and listen to the individual investors who held stakes in their companies.

Article about Soss reprinted from Cosmopolitan magazine, April 1963. Box 3, Wilma Soss papers, Coll. No. 10249, American Heritage Center, University of Wyoming.

She won the right for shareholders to attend and speak at corporate meetings, a practice that is now taken for granted. She also argued that having more women in corporate leadership was not only fair, but also beneficial for the shareholders and the society.

Soss’s papers at the American Heritage Center show how she made her case and how she framed her activism as a struggle for democracy and justice. Her work inspired and influenced other activists who followed her footsteps and combined social and economic causes to create change. Her papers also reveal her connections to other activists from different generations. She corresponded with leaders from the National Organization for Women (NOW) and the Interfaith Center for Corporate Responsibility, sharing her insights and experiences. These archival materials show how Soss bridged the gap between past and future activists, and how she impacted and shaped the shareholder activism movement.

Thanks to Brian Sarginger, 2020 recipient of the AHC Women in Public Life Fellowship, for his contributions to this post.

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Mort Weisinger: The Man Behind Superman in Comics’ Silver Age

Ever wonder who gave Superman his Fortress of Solitude, or why kryptonite comes in so many colors? Meet Mortimer “Mort” Weisinger, the unsung architect of Superman’s expansive mythology during the Silver Age of Comics.

Mort Weisinger. Box 14, Mort Weisinger papers, Col. No. 7958, American Heritage Center, University of Wyoming.

Born in April 1915 in New York and raised in the Bronx by Austrian Jewish parents, Weisinger discovered science fiction and comics at age thirteen through an August 1928 issue of Amazing Stories. By 1930, at fifteen, Weisinger was an active member of some of the earliest science fiction fan clubs and fanzines, including The Planet. In 1931, he hosted a meeting of a pioneering sci-fi fan club, “The Scienceers,” attended by a young Julius Schwartz and other future notables of the science fiction world.

The Planet Vol 1, No. 2. Box 24, Mort Weisinger papers, Coll. No. 7958, American Heritage Center, University of Wyoming.

In 1932, Weisinger, Schwartz, and Allen Glasser joined Forrest J. Ackerman in founding The Time Traveller, a fan magazine that grew out of “The Scienceers” fan club. Styled as “Science Fiction’s Only Fan Magazine,” it published interviews with and short pieces by established science fiction writers, allowing them to gain familiarity with the notable personalities of that era.

After high school, Mort attended New York University, where he became an active member and eventual editor of the college’s newspaper and magazine. However, he left before graduating. With Julius Schwartz, he approached T. Connor Sloane, the editor of Amazing Stories, and sold his first story titled “The Price of Peace.” In 1934, Weisinger proposed to Schwartz the idea of starting a literary agency, and they formed the Solar Sales Service, the first literary agency to specialize in science fiction, horror, and fantasy. The agency’s first client was Edmond Hamilton, known for Captain Future stories, followed by Otto Binder, Ray Bradbury, H.P. Lovecraft, and Stanley Weinbaum, among others.

Amazing Stories, August 1963. Box 48, Mort Weisinger papers, Coll. No. 7958, American Heritage Center, University of Wyoming

In the late 1930s, Weisinger left the agency to Schwartz and moved on to a job with Standard Magazine, a publisher of pulp magazines. Mort became the editor of Thrilling Wonder Stories and bought stories from his former partner, including stories by Hamilton. By 1940, he was editing a wide range of Standard pulps, including Startling Stories and Captain Future, eventually overseeing about 40 titles.

Wonder Stories, January 1935. Box 49, Mort Weisinger papers, Coll. No. 7958, American Heritage Center, University of Wyoming.

In 1941, he left Standard Magazines for National Periodicals, the early iteration of DC Comics, where he became the editor of the Superman and Batman titles. Among his early tasks was creating new characters, leading to the debut of Aquaman, Green Arrow, Johnny Quick, and Vigilante in More Fun Comics #73.

However, his career was interrupted in 1942 when he was conscripted into the Army, serving as a sergeant in Special Services. Stationed at Yale, Mort wrote scripts for an army radio show called “I Sustain the Wings.” He roomed with future notable actors William Holden and Broderick Crawford. During this time, Weisinger met Thelma Rudnick, whom he married on September 27, 1943.

First page of the script “I Sustain the Wings.” Box 33, Mort Weisinger papers, Coll. No. 7958, American Heritage Center, University of Wyoming.)

After his discharge in 1946, Weisinger returned to National and resumed editing Superman and Batman comics. During his tenure, he introduced a wide variety of new concepts and supporting characters, such as Supergirl, Krypto the Superdog, the Legion of Superheroes, and various forms of kryptonite. He also attempted to rationalize Superman’s powers using real-world science and introduced the “imaginary story” gimmick for non-canonical what-if scenarios. He conceived DC’s first giant anthology, The Superman Annual.

Weisinger often talked to kids in his neighborhood about what they wanted to see in comics, leading to the creation of the Lois Lane and Jimmy Olsen spin-off titles. He became known for reusing previously published stories as new story ideas, such as a 1950s story featuring Superman encountering an alien being he thought might have been his long-lost brother, which was reused in the early 1960s as a Superboy story introducing Mon-El.

Superman comic, November 10, 1943. Box 22, Mort Weisinger papers, Coll. No. 7958, American Heritage Center, University of Wyoming.)

In the early 1950s, he was invited to California to work as a story editor for the Superman TV series. Weisinger worked with Superman actor George Reeves and influenced others, including Jackson Gillis, William Woolfolk, Jim Shooter, and Leigh Brackett.

Eventually, Mort focused solely on Superman, becoming the editor of all Superman titles from 1958 until his retirement in 1970. Known for his micromanagement style, he maintained tight internal continuity within the Superman comics, although they related little to the rest of the DC Universe. Upon his retirement, he was succeeded by his childhood friend and longtime colleague Julius Schwartz. Weisinger was later immortalized within the Superman comics with a bust in Clark Kent’s apartment in both artwork and storylines.

“I Flew with Superman” appeared in an October 1977 issue of Parade magazine. Box 48, Mort Weisinger papers, Col. No. 7958, American Heritage Center, University of Wyoming.

Weisinger didn’t limit himself to science fiction. He wrote freelance articles for various magazines, including Reader’s Digest, Collier’s, Parade, and The Saturday Evening Post. His topics ranged widely, from comics and the Comics Code to profiles of celebrities and beauty contests. His best-selling novel The Contest was inspired by his article for Parade on why certain finalists in the Miss America Pageant could never win the crown. He also authored 1001 Valuable Things You Can Get for Free, a compendium of freebies available to the public.

Cover of The Contest (1971) by Mort Weisinger. Box 37, Mort Weisinger papers, Coll. No. 7958, American Heritage Center, University of Wyoming.
Cover of the seventh edition of 1001 Valuable Things You Can Get for Free by Mort Weisinger. Box 38, Mort Weisinger papers, Coll. No. 7958, American Heritage Center, University of Wyoming.

Mort Weisinger spent his life working in science fiction, a passion that began at thirteen and carried him through his career. He lived much of his life in New York and remained there until his death in 1978 from a heart attack. In 1985, he was posthumously named one of the honorees in DC Comics’ 50th anniversary publication, Fifty Who Made DC Great, for his long tenure as Superman editor and his expansion of the Superman mythology and universe.

Mort Weisinger, ca. 1975. Box 14, Mort Weisinger papers, Coll. No. 7958, American Heritage Center, University of Wyoming.

Mort Weisinger’s legacy extends beyond the pages of comic books. His extensive personal and professional papers are housed at the American Heritage Center. This collection offers researchers and comic enthusiasts a unique window into Weisinger’s life, creative process, and his significant contributions to Superman’s mythology and the broader world of science fiction.

Post contributed by AHC Processing Archivist Brittany Heye.

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Wyoming Governor Frank Emerson’s KKK Conundrum

In the complex landscape of 1920s American politics, the resurgence of the Ku Klux Klan emerged as a significant, if geographically uneven, force. Even in Wyoming, far from the Klan’s southern roots, politicians found themselves navigating tricky waters when it came to the hooded order. One such politician was Frank C. Emerson, whose 1926 campaign for Wyoming governor provides a glimpse into the intricate political maneuvering of the era.

Wyoming Governor Frank Emerson, 1927. Ludwig & Svenson Studio Photographs, Coll. No. 167, American Heritage Center, University of Wyoming.

The Klan that Emerson encountered was not the same organization that terrorized the post-Civil War South. This Second Ku Klux Klan, founded in 1915, had spread far beyond its original boundaries, establishing a presence in all 48 states and even internationally. With membership swelling to more than two million, this iteration broadened its targets to include Catholics, Jews, immigrants, and those associated with communism, alongside African Americans.

In Wyoming, the Klan exploited post-World War I anxieties, Prohibition, and fears of changing demographics to embed itself in communities across the state. By 1923, national Klan newspapers boasted of Wyoming’s extensive organization, claiming a Klan presence in every town of over 1,000 people.

That the Ku Klux Klan had infiltrated Wyoming is shown in this ad that appeared in the July 19, 1919, issue of the Casper Daily Tribune.

It was in this context that Frank C. Emerson, a Republican and former Wyoming State Engineer, entered the 1926 gubernatorial race. A letter found in Emerson’s papers at the American Heritage Center sheds light on his careful political calculus. Written by his associate J.A. Whiting on October 9, 1926, the letter recounts how Republican County Chairman L.E. Armstrong of Rawlins demanded that Emerson publicly denounce the Klan.

Whiting’s advice to Emerson is particularly telling: “Express to Mr. Armstrong a desire to meet any person and tell them individually the facts as regards your membership to that Order, but that you refuse to discuss the issue at the meeting.”

This carefully worded recommendation raises intriguing questions: Was Emerson trying to distance himself from the Klan, or was there a connection he was attempting to manage discreetly?

The letter also mentions T. Joe Cahill, a member of the Knights of Columbus – a Catholic organization often at odds with the anti-Catholic Klan. Surprisingly, Cahill advised against any public statement on the Klan issue, believing the campaign’s current strategy was effectively managing the situation without public declarations.

While this letter doesn’t provide definitive answers about Emerson’s relationship with the Klan, it offers valuable insights into the political calculations of the time. Other historical evidence held at the Wyoming State Archives suggests that Emerson may have had Klan sympathies or connections. A letter Emerson received that year from Frank Coulter, a known Klan member from Worland, hints at a potentially closer relationship with the organization.

The question of Klan affiliation wasn’t merely academic. In many parts of the country, Klan endorsement could make or break a campaign. However, open association with the group could also alienate other voters, particularly Catholics and minorities. Emerson’s apparent strategy of private assurances and public silence reflects the delicate balancing act many politicians of the era performed.

Emerson’s approach proved successful – he won the 1926 election and served as Wyoming’s 15th governor until his death in 1931. Yet the questions surrounding his relationship with the Klan persist, reflecting broader national debates about nativism, religion, and political influence that in many ways continue to this day.

Post contributed by AHC Archivist Leslie Waggener.

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