About the author:  Jim Wagner was the first director of the WSU publications office and print shop.  In the late 1960s, as project director, he worked with designers to create a “logo” for the university.  The result, the “W” beneath the flame, is still a primary graphic symbol for the University.

Memory lane!  Seems the older we get, the more apt we are to travel it.  I know I've made my share of those trips, but none more memorable than one I took a year or so ago.  It even included a guide.  I invite you to travel with me.

A friend here in the Metro area who had knowledge of my past affiliation with Winona State, asked if I could help arrange a campus visit for his college-bound daughter.  Having studied and worked at the University more years ago than I care to remember, what could I say?  And then I realized what I had said - - YES!  How do I get around this dilemma?  It had been 35 years since WSU and I had parted company.  Who could I possibly contact?

There was one option, thanks to the WSU Currents Alumni magazine.  I crossed my fingers for luck and shot an e-mail into my past - to the late 1960's.  Back then I was a lad of 22, waving a freshly signed diploma and beginning what I thought would be a career in copywriting, public relations, advertising, or something akin to those fields.  These were merely catch-words for me at the time.  My banner was a BA degree in English, but my knowledge of marketing and promotion was strictly elementary.  Adolph Bremer, professor of Journalism and city editor of the local Daily News, had given me just enough taste of his world, to tempt me to try my hand in something other than teaching - my original plan.  I tucked my credentials into the breast pocket of a new three-piece suit, double breasted no less, and headed out to seek my fortune.

My first interview resulted in my first job - how I'll never know.  A local Winona business offered me a position in its expanding advertising and publicity department.  What luck!  Or was it?  I quickly learned that business has its own set of prerequisites and found myself enrolled in an "off-campus" English course the likes of which would have made Shakespeare shudder.  I learned a litany of new words, the jargon of the trade, of which none bears repeating, save one - LOGO.  The word caught my attention.  Investigation taught me it was a graphic design intended to convey identity and instant recognition.  It was a word that was to become very significant, sooner than I expected.

Two years later I found myself back on campus sitting in the office of then President Robert A. DuFresne, interviewing for a position that had yet to be named but bore the rudiments of the career I was to trying to mold.  There seemed to be a growing need on campus for a central publications office, but there was uncertainty about the full scope of activity.  Dr. DuFresne and I came to terms.  It was good to be home again.

My first assignment was to collaborate with faculty and administration and define this new endeavor and then give it a name.  Defining it was relatively simple.  Naming it was quite a different story.  In those days words like advertising, public relations and marketing were tabu in State affiliated arenas.  In our attempt to avoid excessive scrutiny from officials in St. Paul, we arrived at and selected the title "Special Services."  Vanilla did more for ice cream than our choice did for campus publications.  How more non-descript could we have been?  I recall a young colleague of mine, an ex-Marine and an art student whom you'll meet in the next paragraph, informed me of what Special Services were in the Marine Corps.  It was less than flattering and certainly not academic.  What had I gotten myself into?

That e-mail - the one I mentioned above - it landed where it was aimed, on the CRT of that same colleague and former Marine - Dick Davis.  He had been a bit more dedicated to his call than had I, and had risen to Director of Publications at WSU.  It took but a few brief exchanges to convince us we needed to re-acquaint ourselves.  On a Saturday morning in March, I was headed south to Winona.  It would prove to be a reunion with a time and place that had been my life for nearly 10 years.

March mornings in Minnesota aren't particularly memorable.  But as I made my way through the twists and turns of old Highway 14, between Rochester and Winona, I was captivated by the hills and valleys, farms and forests, streams and serenity of that beautiful part of our State.  Had I missed seeing all this before?  Was it this way 40 years ago?  I began to wonder why I had left.

I approached the little town of Stockton.  My quiet, reflective drive was suddenly disrupted by an emerging bill-board.  The sign shouted through the misty morning light - WELCOME TO WINONA!  The greeting was endorsed by two Winona establishments, one of them being Winona State University.  And there, emblazoned on the bill-board, in brilliant - no, make that immutable - crimson red was the WSU LOGO.  Neon could not have stabbed more sharply.  I winced, looked again, then smiled.  A curious conflict of emotions.

If I had been lost in the pageantry of the valley, I was now fully aware how close I was to my destination.  I began to focus on the purpose of the trip.  Questions flashed across my mind.  What would this visit be like?  A rehash of an aged and forgotten past?  A tour of all the darkened offices and classrooms of Somsen Hall?  Footsteps echoing in hallways vacated by staff and students gone home for the weekend?  Perhaps a collection of dusty, dreary catalogs and brochures - our first attempts to spread the word about Winona State?  Are 35 years too many to meaningfully recollect?  Why am I doing this?  Is it too late to turn back?  Answers were not forthcoming.  I proceeded.

I reached the western city limits and took Highway 61 around Lake Winona to enter campus via Huff Street.  The spring thaw was intruding on the frozen edges of the Lake.  Joggers and bikers with an irrepressible urge to beat the season, dipped and dodged snowy remnants on adjacent paths trying their best to push aside the last vestiges of winter.  Ah yes, springtime in Winona.  It always arrived in the valley sooner than on the surrounding heights.

The intersection with Huff Street lay just ahead.  The replica of Steamer Wilke still held firm to its little corner of the world.  Sugar Loaf loomed in the distance.  I turned left toward town.  If I was jolted by the sign in Stockton, I was stunned by the display on Huff Street.  Every lamp post, and there were at least 50, bore a banner with a current WSU slogan and the unmistakable logo.  I breathed a sigh of relief at the color - purple and white, just as had been intended.  It was all I could do to not pull over and stare down the length of that Street, banner upon banner.  I blushed with pride and managed to drive on.

Crossing Sarnia Avenue, I expected to see Steve's Standard Station, where I had frequently filled my tank, and nearly as often emptied my wallet trying to keep the old beater running for just one more term.  It was gone - replaced by an all-purpose Amoco convenience store - with gas pumps.  A victim of the times.  I slowed for the railroad tracks ahead, more from habit than for safety, recalling how many times I blamed flat tires on those ruthless crossings.  I remembered the many nights my efforts to study were derailed by the crash and bang of trains switching on those tracks.  The light in my room two blocks away would vibrate and dim with each collision of train segments slamming together.  I shared living quarters in one of those 100 year-old houses, easily shaken now by the nightly activity in the train yard.

The campus came into view.  I had to re-orient myself.  I quickly perceived this was not the place I left 35 years before.  I recognized Sheehan Hall and Kryzko Commons, but little else looked familiar from my vantage point.  I headed in the direction I was certain would lead me to Somsen Hall.  One-way streets this way and that.  Dead ends here, parking lots there.  New buildings everywhere.  What have they done to my quiet little campus?  I took some comfort with the repeating images of the logo on sign posts, buildings, indeed, everywhere I looked.  I had to be in the right place.

To most reading this article, you must be wondering, "What's with this guy and his logo fixation?"  To you that image is probably as commonplace and as much a part of the milieu as Maxwell Library, Shepard,  Guildemeister, Somsen, and Memorial Halls,  even parking meters.  But, you see, when I joined the staff at WSC, yes, back then it was Winona State College, its primary identification was the State College Seal - original, official, sanctioned, and never, never to be tampered with.  It was indeed an honorable and distinguished symbol, and probably remains so today - somewhere in the University's archives.

In the mid to late '60's, the State College System was going through rigorous growing pains and an equally unsettling search for its identity among all the other colleges and universities in the State.  In a  very short span of time, the five institutions then in the System had changed from Teachers Colleges, to State Colleges, and were on the verge of a third change to State Universities.  While teacher preparation was still the major purpose, there was a steady influx of students seeking a broader based, liberal arts education.  The State Universities could not ignore the trend.  And from this writer's perspective, Winona led the way in many of these challenging transitions.  That was the breeding ground from which sprung the logo, an image which now appears on every letter, publication, diploma, document - even on lamp posts and bill-boards.

It took nearly two years to develop and gain approval for the classic Greek "W" with the flame rising from the middle stem.  It was to symbolize the tradition and history of Winona State, the enduring torch of education, the origins of Western civilization, and to strongly suggest the future of education in Winona.  It was to be a subtle, yet unmistakable reflection of an institution that proudly claimed more than 100 years of academic excellence and was preparing to meet head-on the challenges of the last third of the 20^th century.

I take a bit of pride in having had some small part in the development of this enduring symbol, but more so in having been on campus when its pillars were being shaken at their foundations as the faculty, staff and administration sculpted a new vision for a quaint little college nestled in the Hiawatha Valley of southeastern Minnesota.

The reunion?  It was by no means a leisurely stroll down memory lane.  It was a race through time.  Dick Davis and I found an open door to those days we had shared, diligently blending our respective talents with the ideals and visions of a faculty and administration bent on charting a new course for WSU.  Those were exciting times - times that came blazing back to the present and in at least this one respect, the logo, live yet today.  My trip back to the Cities was filled with thoughts and reflections of a time gone by.  I recalled what Dick had said as we parted, "Who says you can't go home again?"

Last Modified: Friday, November 04, 2005 15:37 by Rhone Richard