Vol. 23 No. 11 November 5, 1998

Students from the Campus Y, including freshman
Anne Selden (right) host city youngsters at a
"Safe Halloween" celebration Oct. 31 in Mudd Residence Hall's multipurpose room.

Steinbach named to new Shelden professorship

by Jim Dryden

Russell D. Shelden, M.D., and his wife, Mary, have created a new professorship in anesthesiology at the School of Medicine.

Called the Russell D. and Mary B. Shelden Professorship, the chair's first occupant is Joseph Henry Steinbach, Ph.D., a professor of anesthesiology and of neurobiology. Steinbach has been a faculty member since 1984.

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Finkel's portrait joins collection

By Deborah Parker

A portrait of Donald Finkel, professor emeritus of English, was installed Oct. 28 as part of Olin Library's visible testimony to the efforts of the gifted nucleus of writers who envisioned the University's writing program nearly 25 years ago.

These portraits honor those faculty colleagues who argued so vigorously with each other in the summer of 1975 about how to teach aspiring writers to write. From the combined experiences of these writers and teachers the prestigious Master of Fine Arts writing program that exists today began to take shape.

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Nominations sought for 1999 Faculty Achievement Awards

Chancellor Mark S. Wrighton and John N. Drobak, professor of law and of economics and chair of the Faculty Senate Council, invite the faculty to nominate recipients of the new Faculty Achievement Awards.

Wrighton announced the establishment of the awards last spring. The first honorees -- one from the Hilltop Campus, one from the School of Medicine -- are to be chosen in early 1999 and announced at the Chancellor's Gala, scheduled for May 1.

As part of their awards, the recipients will give addresses to the University community next fall, summarizing their scholarly work. Each will receive a $5,000 honorarium at the time of the address.

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Binge drinking

Nation's colleges grapple with epidemic

By David Moessner

This is a story about going too far. Way too far. And since we're tightrope-walking on the edge, I'm going to break down a journalistic taboo and talk to you in the first person. My name is Dave and 18 years ago I was an 18-year-old at the University of Nebraska. My best friend and roommate throughout college was Gonzo.

Actually his name was Scott, but half the guys in our fraternity couldn't have told you that.

Gonzo was a Regent's Scholar, could rifle a three-wood 250 yards down the middle of the fairway and cracked us all up with stolen comedy bits from George Carlin.

Neither Gonzo nor I drank much -- if any -- when we were in high school, I in the burgeoning techno-town of San Jose, Calif., he in the backwater burg of Cozad, Neb. That all changed within the first couple of weeks on campus, though.

Gonzo jumped into the foam face-first. Literally. Early that first September, our fraternity continued a 20-year tradition -- one that my own dad had helped start in his undergrad days -- by constructing a 25-foot by 50-foot front-yard swimming pool made from railroad ties, plywood and huge sheets of plastic. It took three days, two full-flowing hoses and a lot of beer to fill that pool. Gonzo reached capacity about the same time as the pool did.

For a while that night, Gonzo was the life of the party. Cracking jokes, splashing cannonballs. A few beers later, though, he was getting a bit too "handy" with some of the female guests. Another brew or two later, Gonzo slipped off the ledge and fell face-first into the shallow end, bouncing his nose off the bottom of the pool. Three of the seniors pulled him out and carried him up to sleep it off.

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