Western Kentucky University - Talisman Yearbook (Bowling Green, KY)

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Photos by Beth Rogers “Because it’s summer, most of my classes have only 12 to 20 students. I felt strange, but not for long. It takes a while, but after the ice is broken they realize we’re real people, too. They know I’m human, SWIM COACH Bill Powell demonstrates a drown- proof method for Sister Anne in the Diddle Arena pool. She said she wasn’t used to swimming with | males but was determined to take the course. just like anybody else. We just have differ- ent lifestyles.” She said each day’s schedule included classes, mailbox checks (I got a letter ev- ery day but two”), studying in the library, LEATHER WORK and woodworking were the sub- jects in Sister Anne’s industrial education for elemen- tary teachers course taught by Dr. Delbert Towell. Sister Anne’s project was a toy truck. mass and meditation. Sister Anne said she wore her veil most of the time. “We don’t have to wear a veil,” she said. “It’s not what makes a person a nun, but it means something. “When I’m bicycling downtown I don’t wear my veil. People tend to stare, and I don’t want to cause any accidents.” Sister Anne said church rules have been relaxed and nuns now get more freedom and personal responsibility. ‘Our life is. one of obedience, simplicity of life and “When I’m bicycling downtown I don’t wear my veil. People tend to stare, and I don’t want to cause any accidents.” poverty,” she said. “We're not lacking, but we don’t get everything we want. And we're never out of a job. We're always needed.” Attending Western has given Sister Anne new friendships, she said. “People at Western care about you. They’re full of warmth and concern. “Most students are serious about their field. They're respectful of things as well as people. We have a lot of common goals. We just want to give, share and love.” Connie Holman CLOTHED in a black gown and her veil, Sister Anne Frisch chats with friends Thomas and Linda Freeman before the August commencement program. Sister Anne received her master’s degree in library science after three summer terms at Western. 15 Summer term

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A SUMMER HABII 14 Summer term ummer term is a collage of students and personalities. There are the spring semester’s leftover students, anxious to finish their degree programs early. Many teachers, on vacation from public schools, work on master’s degrees in summer. Nuns also attend Western in a season when a walk up the Hill is accompanied by humidity and sweat beads upon each brow. With the dry summer of 1977 came ap- proximately 16 nuns from Owensboro and one from Covington, near Cincinnati. That nun, Sister Anne Frisch, is a three- year summer-term veteran who has com- pleted her master’s work and regrets leav- ing Western. “T have a lot of friends here and I like the program and courses in the library science department,” she said. “From the checkout counter to the circu- lation desk, this library fascinates me,” Sister Anne said. ‘The other libraries I’ve seen are much smaller. It blows my mind with all the resources and computers. “I’ve checked out every cassette of coun- try and classical music,” she said. “I don’t like rock‘n’roll.” Sister Anne, in her 25th year as a Sister of St. Benedict, has taught elementary edu- cation. However, she now has a new as- signment as librarian at Thomas More College in Florence. “... After the ice is broken they realize we’re real people, too. They know I’m human, just like any- body. We just have different life- styles.” “It’s kinda good to have a second voca- tion,” she said. “In the library you need a general knowledge about everything. School hasn’t been a big burden because I wanted to learn. I sure don’t know every- thing.” In addition to completing independent study in library science, Sister Anne took a swimming class and an industrial arts course. “T had to wear a bathing suit and go into - the pool with guys,” she said. “I’m just used to women using a pool, but I made up my mind to take the course. “I’ve gotten good grades at Western, but I’ve worked for them,” Sister Anne said. “It’s not a snap. You get what you give.” — Blending in with other students haan been a major concern, she said. A CENTRAL HALL dorm room decorated with Cin- cinnati Reds players’ pictures was where Sister Anne spent much time on an independent study course in library science. She wrote a term paper between two other courses and church services.

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lc took all sunnier A scrap of paper tumbled across the parched Diddle Arena parking lot. A lone bicyclist rode around the light poles in wide figure eights. Only a few cars clut- tered the thousands of square feet of steamy asphalt. It was May 18, 1977, just five days after the close of the spring se- mester, and the campus was virtually de- serted. Further up the Hill, however, in rooms buzzing with fluorescent lights and IBM i 1 3 4 JUST TWO DAYS BEFORE REGISTRATION, phys- ical plant workers haul registration packets from the registrar's office on the second floor of the Wetherby Administration Building to Diddle Arena. 13,521 stu- dents registered in the fall. 16 Prepping the Hill ete we eee e Selectrics, Western was readying for the beginning of the next school year. Up in Potter Hall, the housing office staff tried to ease the problems of an ex- pected dorm overflow by sending confir- mation cards to applicants in July. The cards asked for verification that the stu- dent still wanted a room in the fall. In 1976 the housing crunch hit and sent students reeling to university-provided motel rooms and placed more than 100 ona Debbie Gibson Ron Hoskins STACKS OF BOOKS surround Karen Minor, a fresh- man data processing major from Auburn, as she files volumes on the second floor of Margie Helm Library. The law library, periodical collection and tape library are housed on that floor. dorm waiting list. “It took us more by sur- prise,” housing director Horace Shrader said. “This year we saw it happening.” Still, by July 10, the 12 women’s dorms (maximum 2,920) were filled, with applica- tions for some dorms running 150 beyond capacity. Then, Shrader said, a “mad rush” to find auxiliary housing began. Later in July, the contractor renovating Florence Schneider Hall agreed to have the third and fourth floors ready for women’s housing. By Aug. 1, the four men’s dorms (capac- ity 2,058) were filled. Workers from ship- ping and receiving moved furniture into study rooms, recreation rooms, dining areas and other spare space, according to Larry Howard, purchasing director. But applications still came. Women were told they would be placed in temporary housing, and men were simply placed on a waiting list. Down the hall from the housing office, the student affairs staff spent the summer trying to make the housing squeeze easier for both students and housing. The battle plan consisted of a series of workshops in August to train resident as- sistants. They were conducted largely by the 26 dorm directors. The workshops trained the 76 new and 85 returning RAs in areas ranging from general dorm proce- Debbie Gibson =