A drab windy late April Sunday afternoon - on the fourth floor of University of Wisconsin-Madison's Memorial Union, looking out the window over the choppy waters of Lake Mendota. The 2017 initiates of UW's Iron Cross Society would soon be welcomed. Back in 1962, I was one of 14 senior men welcomed into that honorary society.
I doubt that I merited that honor. But it helps to have the right people pulling for you.
Unless you are like WWII Gen. Georgie Patton who insisted he had lived previous lives, this is our initial run. For me, it seems to have been a process of "muddling through." But as sometimes the cards are stacked against you, and we all have our bad breaks, we have to take advantage of the good breaks. I have had my share of them.
It was a break to be born in the mid-1930s, and raised on a dairy farm with a strong work ethic. An advantage of that "Depression generation" was that there were relatively few of us. Instead of crowded classrooms faced by the Baby Boomers, we always had a couple of empty desks in our classrooms.
I did some stupid things, like not taking typing in high school. Why would I need it? That was as dumb as quitting accordion lessons personally taught by our local maestro, Swiss immigrant Rudy Burkhalter.
Another major break of being born in the mid-1930s was that, being too young for the Korean War, we hit military age between wars. As there were few teenagers during the 1950s and the draft was still on, most males of that era experienced military service. The Korean truce had been signed in 1953 and it was peace time, so we got off easy. The main drawback to military service then was that the myopic politicians, the jerks, jerked the GI Bill away from us.
I dodged the draft by joining the Marines. After the arduous three-month boot camp - an experience worth a million bucks but nobody would do it again for a million - it was infantry training for all Marines, whether ending up as a fighter pilot, electronics technician, or basic infantryman.
I was assigned to radio operators' school, where we learned to type, necessary for college, another break that compensated for my previous dumb decision.
At age 21, on a bright September morning, I was on the UW campus standing in a long line, registering for freshman English. Good duty - standing in line with cute coeds sure beat standing in a chow line with a bunch of Marines.
A few days later, 7:45 am, it was my first UW class, freshman English, in a section with about 20 students. This did not look good - I had a real bad feeling about this instructor who seemed to have a bad attitude. Fortunately, several of our names were not on his roster. He sent us over to the English Department where we were assigned to another section. Another break. I had a better feeling about this instructor, a Jewish guy from Brooklyn. My instincts proved correct.
I had similar good luck for second-semester English. The instructor was a soft-spoken Texan from Midland, Texas. Reserve Officers Training Corps (ROTC) was required of all freshmen males. Vets, of course, were exempted. When the ROTC boys were excused from class for the annual ROTC parade, the Texan asked me why I wasn't in ROTC. His nod of approval was encouraging when I informed him that I had served three years in the Marines.
Vets were also exempted from the required zero-credit physical education. I put that freed-up time to good use in the struggle to get through that tough, crucial freshman year.
We were advised that "well-rounded" students, in addition to striving for good grades, should participate in campus activities. Again, breaks came my way, namely, in the person of Monroe's Roger Stauffacher who was a junior when I was a freshman. Roger introduced me to the social-professional agriculture fraternity, Alpha Gamma Rho, and paved the way for me to get involved in campus organizations. Experiences gained in those activities served me well in later life.
By my junior year, I had achieved a good academic record and had a fair list of campus activities under my belt.
In my senior year, I was one of 12 male students nominated for membership in the Iron Cross Society. It is said that "Election to the Iron Cross Society has been considered the highest honor an undergraduate could achieve at this university." I note that another Monroe native and UW student of my era, Wes Falk, also made the Iron Cross Society.
Iron Cross alums are invited to the initiation of new nominees. It is thus that I found myself in the Memorial Union that recent Sunday afternoon.
After the ceremony, Professor Philip O'Leary, Iron Cross alum still on faculty, took me down to the area where our names are embossed on a series of iron shields. Someone must occasionally notice those names. When daughter Kara was at UW, a student once asked her if the "Waelti" on that iron shield was any relation to her.
Former Sen. Russ Feingold's name is on one of those iron shields. Award-winning journalist Jeff Greenfield, a 1963 UW graduate who was editor of the campus newspaper, is on another. Our time at UW overlapped, but I never met the guy. I wish he would return so I could argue with him. He is a great writer and journalist with whom I agree most of the time, especially with his recent pieces on President Trump and current events.
But Greenfield says he hates Iowa's unique, complex caucus system. I would love to tell him why he's dead wrong on that matter.
That's what one expects from UW's Iron Cross Society members - definite opinions and inclination to express them.
- John Waelti of Monroe can be reached at jjwaelti1@tds.net. His column appears Fridays in The Monroe Times.
I doubt that I merited that honor. But it helps to have the right people pulling for you.
Unless you are like WWII Gen. Georgie Patton who insisted he had lived previous lives, this is our initial run. For me, it seems to have been a process of "muddling through." But as sometimes the cards are stacked against you, and we all have our bad breaks, we have to take advantage of the good breaks. I have had my share of them.
It was a break to be born in the mid-1930s, and raised on a dairy farm with a strong work ethic. An advantage of that "Depression generation" was that there were relatively few of us. Instead of crowded classrooms faced by the Baby Boomers, we always had a couple of empty desks in our classrooms.
I did some stupid things, like not taking typing in high school. Why would I need it? That was as dumb as quitting accordion lessons personally taught by our local maestro, Swiss immigrant Rudy Burkhalter.
Another major break of being born in the mid-1930s was that, being too young for the Korean War, we hit military age between wars. As there were few teenagers during the 1950s and the draft was still on, most males of that era experienced military service. The Korean truce had been signed in 1953 and it was peace time, so we got off easy. The main drawback to military service then was that the myopic politicians, the jerks, jerked the GI Bill away from us.
I dodged the draft by joining the Marines. After the arduous three-month boot camp - an experience worth a million bucks but nobody would do it again for a million - it was infantry training for all Marines, whether ending up as a fighter pilot, electronics technician, or basic infantryman.
I was assigned to radio operators' school, where we learned to type, necessary for college, another break that compensated for my previous dumb decision.
At age 21, on a bright September morning, I was on the UW campus standing in a long line, registering for freshman English. Good duty - standing in line with cute coeds sure beat standing in a chow line with a bunch of Marines.
A few days later, 7:45 am, it was my first UW class, freshman English, in a section with about 20 students. This did not look good - I had a real bad feeling about this instructor who seemed to have a bad attitude. Fortunately, several of our names were not on his roster. He sent us over to the English Department where we were assigned to another section. Another break. I had a better feeling about this instructor, a Jewish guy from Brooklyn. My instincts proved correct.
I had similar good luck for second-semester English. The instructor was a soft-spoken Texan from Midland, Texas. Reserve Officers Training Corps (ROTC) was required of all freshmen males. Vets, of course, were exempted. When the ROTC boys were excused from class for the annual ROTC parade, the Texan asked me why I wasn't in ROTC. His nod of approval was encouraging when I informed him that I had served three years in the Marines.
Vets were also exempted from the required zero-credit physical education. I put that freed-up time to good use in the struggle to get through that tough, crucial freshman year.
We were advised that "well-rounded" students, in addition to striving for good grades, should participate in campus activities. Again, breaks came my way, namely, in the person of Monroe's Roger Stauffacher who was a junior when I was a freshman. Roger introduced me to the social-professional agriculture fraternity, Alpha Gamma Rho, and paved the way for me to get involved in campus organizations. Experiences gained in those activities served me well in later life.
By my junior year, I had achieved a good academic record and had a fair list of campus activities under my belt.
In my senior year, I was one of 12 male students nominated for membership in the Iron Cross Society. It is said that "Election to the Iron Cross Society has been considered the highest honor an undergraduate could achieve at this university." I note that another Monroe native and UW student of my era, Wes Falk, also made the Iron Cross Society.
Iron Cross alums are invited to the initiation of new nominees. It is thus that I found myself in the Memorial Union that recent Sunday afternoon.
After the ceremony, Professor Philip O'Leary, Iron Cross alum still on faculty, took me down to the area where our names are embossed on a series of iron shields. Someone must occasionally notice those names. When daughter Kara was at UW, a student once asked her if the "Waelti" on that iron shield was any relation to her.
Former Sen. Russ Feingold's name is on one of those iron shields. Award-winning journalist Jeff Greenfield, a 1963 UW graduate who was editor of the campus newspaper, is on another. Our time at UW overlapped, but I never met the guy. I wish he would return so I could argue with him. He is a great writer and journalist with whom I agree most of the time, especially with his recent pieces on President Trump and current events.
But Greenfield says he hates Iowa's unique, complex caucus system. I would love to tell him why he's dead wrong on that matter.
That's what one expects from UW's Iron Cross Society members - definite opinions and inclination to express them.
- John Waelti of Monroe can be reached at jjwaelti1@tds.net. His column appears Fridays in The Monroe Times.
