McThenia interview [Begin Tape 2, Side 1] Warren: Uncas McThenia, part two. McThenia: I remember that it was a wonderful thing. I sat around the house for-I went over and met with Charley and John and Ann, and all the family, and the grandchildren, and just sort of sat in the house just to find her spirit and to listen to them for two days before the funeral, and so I just sort of sat around like I was a fly on the wall, and they were all talking and doing one thing and another, and grieving the way people do, moving furniture around and that kind of stuff. So I just kind of listened and began to hear sort of her talking amongst all those grandchildren, and so at the funeral, there wasn't anything to do but tell stories, and so I said, "We'd better get on about what we're supposed to do. We're here to celebrate the life of a double-dog Camel-smoking Democrat who used to lie about the Washington Redskins," or something like that. It was a really important way for me and for them, I think, to deal with the kind of grief and stuff. I thought it was-I mean, I got all kind of letters from grandchildren and people in the family and friends who were there, saying that it was just the right thing to say about Catherine. I'm sure I have a copy of it somewhere, but I know there's a copy over in the archives. It was probably the best thing I've ever written, as a matter of fact. [Laughter] Warren: I'm going to have to track that down. I hope somebody remembers me in a eulogy like that. McThenia: Well, she really was a wonderful woman. 35 Warren: I'm kind of intrigued at this notion that in this supposedly all-male school where women's opinions weren't very much valued in those days, and yet here she was running the place. McThenia: I think it was a way-if I were a sociologist, I would say there were two things operating. One is I think that's the way women have always subverted the world. You've got to subvert it if you're going to control it and make it a more humane place. And second, she had a real sort of "tea and sympathy" function for students who were dissolute, strung out. She always knew how to make them care about themselves even when they didn't, in ways that men couldn't have in an all- male environment. But both those points, I think, one is the tea and sympathy, but the other is she had to subvert the place to make it be more human. You'd get somebody who didn't have high LSAT scores or something like that, she'd go in and sweet-talk the dean and say, "This is a wonderful young man. You need him." She'd do things that way. My guess is there are other women doing the same thing to humanize this pl_ace. Warren: Do you know of any others? McThenia: I've heard, but I didn't know, I know she ran the place, but I don't know how humanizing she was, was Mrs. Varner. She was Lou Adams' secretary in the commerce school, called him "Curly Lou" Adams, and her husband was in the treasurer's office. I know, in fact, she ran the school, but I don't know with an iron hand or a velvet glove or how, but she was one of those people of power. Warren: I'll track stories about her. So let's get back to old Uncas McThenia, or young Uncas McThenia. McThenia: Right. Warren: He's a student and he goes off and practices. How did he get back here as a member of the faculty? 36 McThenia: I was in Alexandria. Bob Huntley had left here when he went to practice law with Armistead Boothe, who was kind of a famous anti-Byrd machine Democrat in Virginia. It was a small law firm in Alexandria back when there were good small law firms. I had left here to practice law in Washington, a serious mistake in my professional life. I'd gone with a small antitrust firm, and I was just as useless as that television without the cord plugged in, because you don't know anything at that age, and I was very bored, not very fulfilled, and started looking around. Bob Huntley got word of that and got word back to that law firm, because I had talked to them when I was in law school, but they hadn't decided to hire anybody. They offered me a job and it was in Alexandria, and we liked Alexandria, so I went to work there. He used to stop in from time to time to see the law firm, and I'd see him. He was teaching here at the time. Somewhere along the line, I guess they decided they needed another law teacher and called me. They had the loyalty to the law firm. They called them and said they were going to call me, and they called me and said, "Would you be interested?" I thought about it a while. I think I was probably ready to come within a month after they asked me. Ann wasn't. All our kids had been born in Alexandria, or two of them had been born. She had been developing a life there and she was interested in that. It wasn't until some months later that she decided if I wanted to make a move, she was ready to make it. So I did decide and she said, "Well, I'll go with you." That's how we came down here, that was in '67. Warren: So how was that, coming back to a place where you'd been a student? How did your now former teachers, now colleagues, receive you? McThenia: Much more graciously and warmly than they should have. [Laughter] They all thought I knew something. It wasn't my first experience teaching here. So my old mentor when I had been a student here was the guy who first hired me to 37 teach. When I was in college, my friend and advisor, Marcellus Stowe, had a heart attack. I think that's what he had. A stroke. Anyway, he was disabled and could not teach. The other guy, it was a two-person department, Department of Geology, the other guy had left to go off to Texas, and Ed Spencer-do you know Ed? Warren: Yes. McThenia: Ed had just been hired to teach geology, and he came down here thinking he was going to be the new guy in a two-person department, and he was one guy in a one-person department because the chairman was dying. So he hired me to teach while I was a senior in college, teach a course in mineralogy, one I'd had just a year before or something. They were really desperate. So I taught in the fall of 1957, I taught at Washington and Lee. Yeah, the fall of 1957 and the spring of 1958, when I was a student. I taught a mineralogy course and I taught freshman lab second semester. So I had had some experience. Warren: Was that extraordinary? McThenia: Yeah. Warren: I've never heard of such a thing. McThenia: It shouldn't have happened. I mean, they were absolutely desperate. They ought to have been fired for malpractice. [Laughter] But they couldn't get anybody else. In those days, geologists were making money, the oil industry was cranked up, and they just couldn't find anybody to do it, I expect. They didn't have any time. I think Ed Spencer got here and Dr. Stowe had a heart attack the next day or something. So anyway, he, Ed, or somebody hired me to teach the fall of '57 and the spring of '58 when I was a student. That's why I didn't play football my senior year. I was doing that. So when I came to teach in the law school, I had been in that world once before, but in a much different way. My former teachers were really helpful. Bill 38 Rich was very helpful, Charles Laughlin, everybody was helpful, trying to show me what to do. And Lash LaRue came at the same time. Do you know Lash? Warren: I know Sue. McThenia: He and I came at the same time. He had some idea of what he was doing. I didn't have any idea what I was doing. [Laughter] Because my experience had been so limited in terms of I'd gone to law school here, I'd practiced law, and I'd come back here. He'd gone to Harvard Law School, had a much broader kind of base of experience. But I found everybody very helpful to me. We used to make plenty of mistakes. Warren: What kind of mistakes? McThenia: Well, part of them was being young, making brash political moves, you know. I won't say anybody else, but I used to make those kind of mistakes, thinking if we didn't do it, it had never been done before. You know how you are when you're young. But everybody always forgave us on the faculty. Made a lot of mistakes as a teacher, felt like a failure more days than I felt like success. [Laughter] Had no idea what I was doing. So it was basically those kind of mistakes, like thinking you're a hot shot and you could run the place better than those people who had been here were doing. Everybody was always very forgiving about that. Then mistakes as a teacher, thinking you know something when you don't, You learn what a good teacher is when you have to do it, and there's somebody who just kind of stays about six inches ahead of you, 'cause if you stay a foot ahead of somebody, they don't run the race anymore. If you stay even with them, they're smarter than you are, so you've just got to work just-throw the hay out there where people won't quite get it, but they can get it if they work hard enough at it. You learn through mistakes. I don't understand how law schools and universities have survived hiring people who are so absolutely and abysmally ignorant of the 39 whole process of how people learn, but they do and I guess they've been doing it for hundreds of years. So it was a difficult couple of years for me. It wasn't 'til I had been doing this for about three years that I decided that's what I was going to do. Warren: And this was back in Tucker Hall. McThenia: Uh-huh. Warren: So as a faculty member, did you begin to realize what I guess was being realized in general, the limitations of Tucker Hall? McThenia: Yeah. Yes. I began to realize that there were other visions that could be-it was not only the limitations of Tucker Hall spatially, but the limitations of Tucker Hall in terms of a vision of what a law school could be. Warren: Tell me about that. McThenia: I think the law school had gotten probably fairly complacent, hadn't thought of challenging itself or its students significantly. You had a lot of older guys who were tired and ready to retire. There were no role models much for young people, young faculty to say, "You ought to be doing this," or, "Here's some other way to look at life." And I think Bob Huntley saw that, but he didn't have time, sort of being the acting president-he wasn't the president, he wasn't even acting president, but, in effect, he was doing an awful lot of that, I don't think he had the time to develop young people the way he thought they ought to be mentored, and he was probably the only one. Charles tried, and Charles was helpful, always helpful, but he was never really a mentor. He was a mentor, but he wasn't a mentor in intellectual ways much for me as he was a few years later, I think, for Mark Grunewald, because they taught in the same subject area. Mark taught labor law. The school, I think, had about outgrown the space and also the space had been confining on letting new thoughts in and new kind of concepts of what law school 40 might be. I think it may have been-I don't mean this in the sense that somehow we changed it when we came in young, but it may have been at a fairly low point in the law school's history. Warren: I found myself thinking that as we were talking about these older teachers, that it was pretty much older guys. McThenia: Oh, yeah. . Warren: So this was a changing of the guard. So let's talk about that. McThenia: Well, all of a sudden it developed that way because Charley McDowell died, "Skinny" Williams died, Charles did not teach-no, Charles taught in this building, Charles Laughlin. So in some ways it was that. Lash and I came at the same time, then the next year Joe Ulrich came, and the next year Roger Groot came, so suddenly-well, within ten years, I was the second oldest guy on the faculty, and then Bill Stewart died and I was the oldest, and that's been ten or fifteen years. So it was a complete turnover. Women came· in '73. I think it was '73. Warren: As students or as faculty or what? McThenia: As students. Sally was on the staff and as a student as well. [The] first women teachers, I don't think came 'til '76 or '77, even '78, but it was a changing of the guard. In '68, probably '69, Roy Steinheimer came as the dean, and he did something nobody else has ever done: he did everything well. Most deans have to carve out something they're going to do, like raise the flag or get students or build a building. Roy did all those things well. One of the things he did very well is he recruited students. He'd get in his airplane and he'd fly to all these little old colleges like Washington and Lee, small schools, and he went to a lot of places, but he knew how to mine for students, so he'd go to schools that were not unlike Washington and 41 Lee, a lot of them in the Midwest-Hope College, Calvin College. [Tape recorder turned off.] But he'd go to a place like Albion, Davidson in the South. He'd go to a lot of small schools and recruit. We got Colgate. We'd pick off the number one, two, or three students from a lot of those small schools, and so we increased rapidly the intellectual capability of the top end of the class. There was always a small segment of very bright people, but he increased that, took out some of the elasticity of the class. Prior to that time, you had some very smart people, and some people who probably ought to have been doing some other things than going to law school, and it shortened that, took the elasticity out so you had more people at the top and the middle, and some of the people who had be~n applying to you before didn't apply or you didn't accept them. Roy did that really quickly, in a hurry, and did it well. He also began almost immediately to start trying to plan for an increased size facility. He started unlocking money to get additional faculty. Warren: What do you mean, unlocking money? McThenia: Getting the University to allocate money to the law school. My guess is that for a good number of years, the Law School had been a stepchild of the college or to the whole administration, the whole university. My guess is it hadn't gotten-I know the salaries weren't competitive with what they were at other law schools. It hadn't been active in recruiting students. It had sort of assumed that it would take people who applied from the college. Roy got more money, began to get a bigger pool of students, and we didn't take everybody from the college. That made a lot of people mad. Recruited faculty. Began to think about additional geographic space, began to help us as young faculty act as a mentor in a lot of ways. He'd get money together to send you off somewhere to a conference or support you in research, those kind of things. And largely because he was such an incredibly easy administrator, that is, he could do it so well and he had had experience of having 42 been at the University of Michigan, so he had his own set of credentials he came here with, and he bargained, when he came here, not just with the president for the job, but he went back out and bargained with Ross Malone, who was by then general counsel to General Motors. So before he took the job, he bargained with Bob Huntley, and they may struck a deal, I don't know, but I know he went out and talked to Ross Malone at GM and probably got some promises out of Ross Malone, who was on the board of trustees of Washington and Lee at the time. In fact, he may have been director of the board, I don't know. Warren: Promises? What kind of promises? McThenia: I don't know, but my guess is-I don't know that he got any promises, but the fact is that what was significant was that he was negotiating with a member of the board, and Huntley felt free enough himself to let him do that, so it was not just, "I'm the president. I'm going to hire a law dean and I'll report to the board of trustees." It was, "I'm president. I'm going to either hire a law dean or not hire him, but I'm going to get the advice and he can strike some conversation with our most important trustee." So I don't think he got any promises, but he got some freedom that way. Warren: Who was this trustee? McThenia: Ross Malone had been president of the American Bar Association and had been a lawyer in Roswell, New Mexico. When GM got in a lot of trouble in 1965 or '66 with antitrust violations, they needed an establishment lawyer to head up the legal department, and they went out and hired Ross Malone as general counsel, who was a graduate of the school. Warren: Is he still alive? McThenia: No, he's dead now, and there's a room downstairs called the Malone Room, which is the practicing lawyers' room in the library. He's dead, been dead fifteen, twenty years, I think. 43 Warren: So once Steinheimer came here, he worked in concert with Bob Huntley? McThenia: Oh, yeah. Warren: And I presume Bob Huntley's heart was still somewhat in the Law School. So tell me how that worked. McThenia: It was known as the Bob and Roy Show, that every time Steinheimer wanted something, he'd usually get it, and Huntley spent a lot of time-they were good friends, spent a lot of time together, and for us in the law school, it was just a jewel, because if there was ever a legitimate request, Roy would see that it was made to the president, and if he thought it was a good request, he'd fight hard for it. He never told anybody anything but the truth. I think he was institutionally incapable of lying. He always shot straight with you. "No, that's a bad idea. Won't do it." If he'd get mad at you, have a fight, and he'd fight like hell, and it was over in five minutes and was done. I mean, it was history. Didn't know how to carry a grudge. My experience. And he got mad at me on more than one occasion. He was an extraordinary man, still is, but he was an extraordinary dean. I don't know anybody, except maybe the most alienated, who didn't have full trust in him. He always, if you did something he didn't like, if you tried to push him, he'd give you a promise: "I'll do it, yes, what you want." And he'd do exactly what he promised, but he'd drag his feet so long. [Laughter] One time we were a bunch of hot-shot young guys and we'd been off to the recruiting conference to hire some new faculty or something, and we'd met somebody we thought was just the home-run hitter of the year or something. "You ought to go hire this person. You ought to get in touch with these people right now." He'd say, "I'll do that. Thank you very much for coming to tell me about it." And so he did precisely what he said he'd do, he sat down and wrote them each a letter. We wanted him to make phone calls. [Laughter] But he didn't lie. It was 44 pretty clear he knew who was going to control things, and we weren't going to push him but so far. He was a really wonderful teacher and a wonderful leader, and he made you feel good about what you were doing, always was interested in what you were doing, tried to be gruff and brusque, and you could see through him if you tried. The students never saw through him, but you could see through him in a hurry. He was a really warm-hearted guy. Sue LaRue used to-we were young. All of us did stupid things. We got Roy in a car one day and- [Tape recorder turned off.] Warren: I want to get that story, though. McThenia: I don't remember where we were. Warren: He was getting in the car. McThenia: Oh, yeah. Roy had been here three or four years and had never registered to vote. Ann and Sue were in the League of Women Voters, and we were young jerk faculty, Lash and I, and they came up to the law school one day. We were still in Tucker Hall. They said, "Dean Steinheimer, we want to talk to you." He, after the fact, said he thought they wanted to talk about their husbands' salaries, so he decided he'd listen. They said, "We want you to go with us." He said, "All right." Didn't ask any questions. They got him in the car, opened the door, put him in the back seat, and they drove him down to the registration desk and got him registered to vote. [Laughter] He never figured out what happened. He didn't know how to deal with a woman. He had a wonderful wife. He's got a wonderful wife now. His first wife died. But he had no children, so he had no notion of how you stand up to women or what you do with them or anything else. That's one reason Catherine ran the law school so effectively. But when the first women came to the law school, Roy was absolutely powerless. Anything they asked for, he'd give it to them. [Laughter] 45 There was a faculty bathroom on the second floor, and I don't know where the women's bathroom was. Maybe there was one on the second floor. I don't know how they cramped all those bathrooms together, but in any event, the women decided they wanted the faculty bathroom because it had more room in it, and women needed the couch for menstrual periods. Women students went down and confronted Roy with that, and he just didn't know what to do, said, "Take it. Take it right,now." [Laughter] So in a quick hurry, he converted the faculty bathroom to, the women's bathroom Women just-he just didn't know how to handle them. So the only people that ever beat him in negotiation were women students. Warren: So what happened among the male faculty when these women came in, these women students, these women faculty eventually came in, and he's letting them have whatever they want? Was there any resentment? McThenia: No. Warren: It was funny? McThenia: It was funny. I don't perceive there was any resentment, no. No. It was funny, what ought to be done, but he just didn't know how to-that's the only thing he didn't know how to do gracefully. He'd just cave in every time. But it was always usually a question of justice. Warren: Of course, women were only asking for reasonable things, I'm sure. McThenia: Oh, yeah, sure, but most people would find an excuse not to give it to them. Roy didn't know how to do that. [Laughter] Sally would know. She was a student and a staff person in those days. But my perception is that he made that transiti~n work very well. He wouldn't fight the fight to get women admitted, but once it happened, he made it happen right. Warren: And what's your impression of why it happened? McThenia: American Bar Association said, "You're in trouble if you don't let it happen, if it doesn't happen." 46 Warren: That's a pretty definitive reason, isn't it? McThenia: Uh-huh. Warren: They've got a lot of clout. So all right. All that happened in Tucker Hall. Women started coming to Tucker Hall. Then there was this big event. How did this building come to be? Was it the Bob and Roy Show? How did Sydney and Frances get into this whole thing? McThenia: Bob was in negotiations with him. The way I hear the story, and I think I've heard this accurately, and I think I've heard it from Frank and from Huntley himself, maybe even Roy, but my memory of the story that I heard-I know it's my memory, and I think it's been told to me by more than one person-is they went to see Sydney and Frances, and they were going to go ask them to endow a professorship Frances or Sydney said, "Well, what would you think of nine million dollars toward a building?" And Huntley said, "You sure do drive a hard bargain." [Laughter] Now, I don't know whether that's true or not, but I've heard that story. It's the kind of thing that would be said. Warren: And they determined that it would be the Law School? McThenia: Uh-huh. Warren: It was the Lewises who said they wanted it? McThenia: I think they expressed a lot of interest in a law school, because Sydney had been a student in the law school, and he had been one of Charles Laughlin's students. When the gift was announced to the faculty, Roy announced the gift, Charles immediately went back and found him on his old seating chart. [Laughter] Warren: And there he was. McThenia: There he was. Warren: So speaking of Laughlin and Tucker Hall and Lewis Hall, one of the things that you made reference to in your eulogy for Charles Laughlin is his address on the 47 farewell to Tucker Hall. Will you describe that scene? I haven't gotten the address yet. McThenia: I wasn't there. Warren: Oh, that's right. You were gone. McThenia: I was in Toronto. Warren: I've got to get that address. I've got feelers out, to get a copy of that. McThenia: It was in the alumni bulletin. Warren: It was? Okay. McThenia: Catherine's was not. They wanted to put it in there, but it was not ever-it didn't appear. It was in the alumni bulletin. Warren: The farewell to Tucker Hall was? McThenia: No, no, I'm sorry. Warren: Your eulogy. Yes. I've got that, but I want to get the farewell to Tucker Hall. McThenia: I've seen it, but I don't know where it is. Warren: I've got feelers out. We'll find it. McThenia: It might be in the old Law News. Warren: So you weren't here for the actual move? McThenia: Nuh-uh. Warren: You missed the party? McThenia: That's right. I was here when we got in, not for the move over. Warren: Were you here for the whiskey party? McThenia: Yes. Warren: Tell me about the party. McThenia: Oh, it was a hell of a party. You've heard how the story- Warren: Tell me the story. 48 McThenia: The story was that Alex Harman, who was on the Supreme Court of Virginia, was an old bachelor, still is an old bachelor-and you might want to talk to him. He spends his winters in Florida, his summers in Hiwasi, which is down near New River County, Crater Lake somewhere. But Alex Harman dealt in Scotch futures as one of his investments, so he had some Scotch in Scotland, in smoked kegs, whatever kind of-burnt kegs. So when the law school came about-he and I were in touch pretty much for a lot of those years because he was on the Constitution Revision Commission when I was a young teacher here, and I was the lawyer to the one branch of the commission, the executive and state government branch of the commission. So he was the member of the commission. He and another guy were members of the commission and I was their lawyer. So he talked about that a lot, about the dedication, and he decided that it ought to be like the Jockey John Robinson dedication of Robinson Hall, when they all got to drinking whiskey with all these Presbyterians around Rockbridge County fell out-fallen, apparently, on the front campus. That was the myth of the 1840s, anyway. So he decided he was going to make sure that this law school was dedicated right, in Jockey John Robinson fashion, with tin cups. So he had this Scotch sent to Norfolk, and they had to unkeg it and put it in bottles to get it through Customs. As soon as it got through Customs, they put it back in the keg and brought it to Rockbridge County, and had it here for the dedication, with those tin cups, and the keg is still in the building. I found it in the basement about two years ago and got the staff of the library-I wanted to put it out here in this alcove out in the hall, but they have it downstairs in the Rare Book Room-because it was down there and needed to be swelled up again. If I had been more conniving, I would have stolen it and taken it home. But I wanted it on the show, so it is now on display. But that's the story. So Alex gave the Scotch and gave the tin cups. 49 Warren: So how many people were here? Did alumni from far and wide come back? McThenia: Yeah, seemed to be a really large crowd. I'm not sure they were here to see the law school so much as they were to see Elizabeth Taylor, who was married to John Warner in those days. She was here, very much on display. The speaking took place on there on the softball field, and there was a podium set up. We were sitting up this way and the podium was down about where third base is. But it was a beautiful spring day, and several good speeches. Huntley was eloquent, of course. It was the best speech Roy Steinheimer ever made, but it was the worst speech of the day, because he just wasn't a public speaker. He outdistanced himself that time, but there were some real eloquence there. I guess that was '77. Warren: I believe it was, because it was right around when I moved here, which was '77, and those tin cups were absolutely everywhere. But I wasn't smart enough to get invited to the party. [Laughter] McThenia: That was spring of '77. Warren: So how did life change, coming over here? McThenia: We had to work hard to make this place a community. That really was hard work. You had to think about that. In Tucker Hall, you were bumping up against people all the time. You heard things you didn't want to hear. You were too much a community. Here, we were on this floor, there were two hundred students scattered around the rest of the building, so it was very difficult. It would have been easy to retreat into some patterns that would have overtaken you and would have been very unhealthy. But we worked hard to kind of make it a community by making students come up here. Several of us began to put stuff outside our office doors. Warren: What kind of stuff? 50 McThenia: Assignment stuff. Instead of putting stuff out on a library desk, you'd put stuff outside your door so you'd make students come by. We used to have-it didn't work. Well, it did work. We used to have coffee downstairs on some days. Then the flow of the building sort of began to take over and made it a community. Steinheimer saw to it that students got to claim the softball field out here. Started having kegs of beer here on Friday afternoons. I don't know. Warren: Who participated in that? Faculty and students? McThenia: Uh-huh. Warren: That sounds like a community. McThenia: It was. A very conscious effort at that for a while. It didn't have to happen forever. Warren: So it would stop? McThenia: No, it wouldn't stop. You don't be conscious about it. Now those people who are young enough to drink beer go there now. I don't much. It's too tiresome. Warren: So there was a big effort to have community here. How about the facility itself? I presume it was a huge improvement. McThenia: Huge improvement. There was a real danger of people getting lost for the first year or two, because we had the same number of students, same number of faculty, but three times as many square feet. But then nice things happened, like glitches, like the roof leaked. People would laugh about that, kind of keep you honest. Then student body size began to increase. We got up to where we wanted. Faculty increased slowly. But things just kind of rocked along. I mean, we were just lucky, and we worked hard at it. Warren: What about the shift over here to this side of Woods Creek? Was there a sense of isolation or was it welcome or was it a loss? How did people perceive that? 51 McThenia: I think both ways. There was a sense of isolation, but there was also a sense of mission that we were doing something interesting and neat. Probably we began to find our own voice independent of being a part of a larger faculty. That's when we became a separate faculty, really. There was some resentment because (a) we got more money, and (b) we had bigger facilities, and (c) we had air-conditioning and those kind of things. Students tended to be never as plugged into the whole system, because we were getting more and more students who'd had undergraduate careers at Lehigh or Colgate or Princeton or somewhere else, and they weren't as plugged into what went on across the ravine. We made some efforts. I think we thought we lost more than we lost, because soon after that happened-I think it was after-the college went on a different calendar anyway, a radically different calendar. They went on a 12-12-6. I don't know how soon after; it tends to blend into years past for me. I don't remember. When I was younger, I thought we had lost more than we really did lose in terms of connections. At least that's my perception now. Warren: Do younger faculty members coming in now, do they get involved with the rest of the university? McThenia: I think so, yeah, I do think so. I know that many of them do. David Coudill, Shaun. Shaun's been here eleven years now. Warren: What's Shaun? McThenia: Joan Shaughnessy. I think they do tend to get involved with folks over there, particularly I know women have, women faculty, and I know that some younger faculty have. Some less so, but I think they have through Newcomers and stuff, and that's continued. Some folks do significant work with people on the undergraduate campus. But after a while when you get to be old and gray-headed, you don't go to many functions anyway, so you never know. All these strange faces, I don't know who they are. 52 Warren: Believe me, I know the feeling. I'm going to flip the tape over real quick.