It seemed all things were possible.
By Jerome Christenson
If men could go to the moon and Nixon
could be elected president – what
couldn’t be done? The times were
a’changin’, even if it took change a
little longer to reach Winona State
College – where the virtue of female
students was protected by curfew
and proprietary hours, although
the Greek sponsored Playboy Club
Dance was an annual affair. A
thick blue cloud still lingered in
the Smog – which took its name
from ambient air quality, not Tolkien’s dragon. Students
and professors routinely lit up in the classroom and the Winonan
advertised the best deal on tap and suds for your next kegger.
We were young people on a young campus. In 1970, the PAC was still unfinished and Minné
Hall still a row of ramshackle houses along a city street. State funding kept tuition low so a kid
with a part-time job and a little help finished with a degree and no debt.
Naive? Yeah, probably. Why else would we
try to end a war with shouted slogans and
a 20-minute sit down strike at Main and
Broadway? Naive enough to believe change
was possible, and then to try to make it
And it did.
Never one to hurry
a good thing,
State from 1970-77.
These days, he’s
a columnist for
the Winona Daily
WSU Currents •