The Good Dean

I could feel every single mile of the steel tracks rattle against my mind as I sat in the passenger car for the seven-hour journey between Dallas and Austin that I had endured happily many times before. This trip had always been one of excitement for me – the excitement of departing my rural north Texas life for the upbeat culture of the university or the excitement of returning home for the summer after a year of hard study and growth. The purpose of this trip, however, was much more somber than my youthful voyages of yesteryear.

It had been almost six years since I graduated from the University of Texas at Austin in 1945 with a degree from the Plan II program. It had been about nine years since I first met Dean Parlin. Well, let me clarify, it had been about nine years since I received my notice of scholastic probation from the College of Arts and Sciences accompanied with a summons to Dean Parlin’s office for individual academic counseling. I had a rough time adjusting from farm life to university life and subsequently failed three out of five classes my first semester. I still remember my first encounters with the good Dean Parlin as if they occurred yesterday.

Without any real option after receiving my summons to the Dean’s office, I left my room on the second floor of Prather dormitory, walked down 21^st street and up the south mall to Dean Parlin’s office in the English Building. I proceeded up the stairs to the third floor where I found Dean Parlin sitting behind his desk in the quaint little office. His office was the first of any professor’s I had visited, and I found it just as I imagined the office of any gentleman scholar would look like – a dimly lit room, book cases lining multiple walls filled with the literary canon, the scent of old books permeating the air and a degree from an ivy league institution mounted in a wooden frame with a slight cant to the left. Joining the ivy league degree, I was somewhat surprised to see, were numerous pictures of students at social events, fraternity brothers in front of their house and a group of men standing in front of a tree with the caption “Parlin’s Probationers – Class of 1922.”¹

Dean Parlin Sitting in his Office

Courtesy of the Minutes of the UT Board of Regents

March 17, 1951ⁱ

After several minutes, the Dean looked up from his readings. Noticing the picture I was eyeing, he spoke, “Those boys in that picture were all in trouble once. They had all for one reason or another not performed up to standard their first semester here at UT. Their second semester, they found themselves on scholastic probation, much like yourself. They also all had to make a choice. This choice was between continuing on their path of lackluster performance or, buckling down and salvaging their academic careers. Every one of the boys in that picture chose the latter option and eventually graduated, becoming very successful men. Now, I present you with the same choice. If you would like to salvage your academic career and make something out of yourself, I ask that you come by my house on 33^rd street next Tuesday for dinner.² Until then, I suggest that you get a fresh start to your spring semester and attend all of your classes this first week.”

“Thank you Dean Parlin. I will surely be there,” was all I managed to stammer out in the presence of the Dean. I turned around and exited the Dean’s office taking in a breath of fresh air from the hallway on my way out.

That first week of school I did manage to attend all of my classes. When Tuesday came around I walked up the tree-lined Speedway and past the booths of student organizations. The organizations were representing a multitude of causes: metal recycling for the war effort, intramural sports, Greek organizations, and the university swing-dancing club, among others. After traveling past the student organizations, I finally made my way to Dean Parlin’s house on 33^rd street. The Dean, relaxing in a rocking chair, addressed me from his porch, “I’m glad to see that you made a good decision today. Now come sit down, make yourself at home while I take the fajitas off of the grill.”

I sat in the chair next to his and took in my surroundings. There was a wonderful view of the sun setting against the tower in the distance on this brisk, January evening. Moments later, Dean Parlin returned carrying two plates topped with the most delicious fajitas I would ever taste in my life and a pitcher of beer.³ We ate dinner discussing all matters of Austin – students, music, politics and outdoors among the subjects I remember. I began to see Dean Parlin as less a professor and more a man “never content with a mere education,” striving for “the generosity of mind and the kindliness of spirit which are the hallmarks of culture.”⁴ He told me of the numerous evenings spent chaperoning for student organizations and fraternity-sorority socials as well as the time he spent as president of the Austin Community Concert series that took place in Hogg auditorium.⁵ Within minutes of talking with the Dean, the deep connection he had with the university was made obvious. He was not one of the many aloof professors whose only connection to the university was the funding of his own personal research. No, he understood the importance of the university experience to an undergraduate’s life and worked to enrich this experience at all levels.

A View of the Tower at Sunset

http://www.kkn.net/~k5tr/photo/pcd2818/utarc-tower-ut-tower-73.3.jpgⁱⁱ

“I’m glad you have enjoyed my cooking tonight,” said the Dean, “but now is the time when we must discuss serious matters. I have given myself ‘the two-sided task of maintaining the scholastic standards of the University and of helping scholastic probationary students rid themselves of their causes for deficiency.’⁶ As a Plan II student, I expect the best from you in the future. Do you even know why you were admitted into the Plan II program?”

“I really have no idea, and I’ve been asking myself similar questions since I’ve been here,” I replied.

“That’s good. Those are questions that more freshmen should be asking themselves. No one ever finds out who they really are until they realize that they are lost and must find their own way. I asked the question, though, because I can tell you why you were admitted. I read every admissions essay that goes through the Plan II office, and I particularly remember reading one telling the story of a young man living on a small farm north of Dallas who felt he was lost in the world. The young man was unusually intelligent for his upbringing and didn’t want to spend his life tending to the farm. Instead, he wanted to live; he wanted to learn about the world’s cultures and learn what it truly means to be a human being. He just didn’t know how to go about doing it.”

“Okay,” I replied hesitantly, “You admitted me because I wanted more out of my existence than just to live on a farm. I get that, but I’m not like the other students in this program. I don’t even approach their academic caliber. Just look at me! I’ve already failed three classes.”

“Yes, some of your classmates are doing much better than you at the moment, but that isn’t the pressing issue. Plan II is a program for students with similar desires that may manifest in different forms. All of our students want to get something more out of their education than a job offer. ‘College must prepare one for living instead of merely making a living.’”⁷

“That’s why I applied to Plan II, but I’m doing horribly so far. At this rate I will flunk out of college and be forced to live my life on the farm. I don’t want to work on that farm ever again. I am trying to do well, but I just can’t make the grades I need to be making.”

“That is because you are lost. Lost is a good place to be because it creates opportunities,” the Dean continued. “When I first came to this university in 1908, I met the men who created this university’s lifeblood, its culture. Everyone knew these men because at the time the university only enrolled about 1,500 students instead of the 15,000 now enrolled.⁸ These men were the professors who shaped the culture of the university. At the time, ‘the campus consisted of old buildings and no landscaping. As the years passed, specialization increased, not only in the education field but in the character of the teachers themselves’⁹ causing a loss of community culture in the university. I found myself as a professor lost among the majority of my peers who subscribed to this idea of specialization in education. UT was an enormous change for me. I had spent years among the gothic buildings and urban setting of the University of Pennsylvania but was relieved to find the growing city of Austin and the University of Texas with its fresh mediterranean style architecture.¹⁰ Austin had a culture that I just fell in love with. As the years passed I began to feel this change in the city and the university. The explosive growth of students along with increased specialization among professors took away from the culture of the university and the quality of education received. I created Plan II to combat these changes. It was ‘an attempt to develop a curriculum that had as its objective the development of the cultivated man. One has only to look at the higher offices in government to see that America produces so few of them.’¹¹ Culture is the important factor here. I think that the best thing you can do to improve your grades is to immerse yourself in the culture of the university and the city. Here you will find your inspiration and your motivation to succeed. Find your niche.”

The University of Texas as seen in 1907

http://www.austinpostcard.com/images/postcards/utfolder1a.jpgⁱⁱⁱ

I was slightly confused. “That sounds like a great plan,” I said, “but how do I go about finding my motivation through the culture of the university when I can barely make it to class?”

Dean Parlin smiled, “That’s the easy part. Go out to the university, meet your fellow students and become a part of the community that we are all trying to create. The influence that a community exerts on an individual’s growth is underestimated by many people these days. This will help you find success faster than spending hours attached to your books. I have even done this many times myself. ‘When the problems of administration become too serious, I escape to the student body and they accept me.’”¹²
“Thanks for the help, Dean Parlin, but I should get going now. I do have class tomorrow. I will take your suggestion to heart. I have seen some student organizations around campus that looked interesting, but I never took the time to join them.”

“Ah yes, well then, be on your way. Go out into the world to learn, grow and most importantly, live! I will hopefully be able to meet with you many more times over the next four years.”

Dean Parlin was correct; I did meet with him and the rest of his “beloved bustees”¹³ many more times for barbecues, nature hikes, entertainment in his parlor and many other social occasions as well as informal visits to his office on campus. I grew to respect and love the man as a second father. After hearing of his sickness, I traveled to Austin like a man who was about to lose his father, though I did not come to grieve a terrible loss but rather celebrate an incredible life. I received a wire the previous week from a brother in the Delta Tau Delta fraternity that one of our own was hospitalized and in his last weeks.¹⁴ I was not surprised to learn that it was my good friend and mentor Dean Parlin, as I had heard of his hospitalization almost three months ago in November.¹⁵ Realizing this would be my last chance to see the good Dean, I boarded the first train I could to Austin. I have enjoyed every moment spent with the Dean in the past and would regret not being able to see him again.

I arrived at the train station in Austin and called for a taxi to pick me up. I hadn’t been in Austin since graduating and wanted to see how the city and university changed. I drove past the university on Guadalupe and noticed many new establishments. World War II was a catalyst of change for UT: the university doubled in size and many new buildings were approved for construction.¹⁶ Even though I was visiting the university that I attended only six years ago, I could not help but feel distanced once I realized that the university’s culture had changed dramatically with the influx of students after the war. It was still the University of Texas at Austin to most people, but I noticed those subtle nuances that only a person who had invested so much time into a place could ever notice. There were several new diners on Guadalupe filled with students, but I was happy to see that the bar that I and the rest of Parlin’s probationers regularly gathered at was intact. I drove by Dean Parlin’s house on 33^rd street and thought back to my first meeting with the Dean on that wide, open front porch. I could still taste the fajitas, steaks, chicken and barbecue that I shared with the good Dean many times in the past over a pitcher of beer and conversation.

Brackenridge Hospital c. 1950

http://www.chase-1.com/oldbrack.jpg^iv

After my reminiscent tour of Austin and campus, I had the taxi take me to Brackenridge Hospital where the Dean had been staying, from early November up until now, January 23, 1951.¹⁷ The hospital was the antithesis of Parlin’s personality – bleak, institutional, sterile. I couldn’t imagine how Dean Parlin must feel after being locked up in this place for the past three months. The joy of his life consisted of walking around campus, interacting with students and inviting them over to his house to share barbecue, beer and humor. I continued up to his room where I found him sleeping in the hospital bed. His room was filled with flowers, letters, pictures, every memory that any student ever shared with him and the joy it brought to his life. The nurses must suffocate in the happiness contained within this hospital room when they enter it, not being used to this caliber of a man.

“Good evening, John,” Dean Parlin said to me weakly. “It is so nice to see you. It must be what? Six years since I’ve last seen you?”

“Yes,” I replied embarrassingly, “I’ve been busy since graduation. I moved back to Dallas, found a good job and am living a good life. I came back to see you the moment I heard that you were sick. Our brothers at Delta Tau Delta sent out a wire to everyone.”

“I’m glad you could come. The wire would help to explain the visitors I’ve had over the past several weeks. An old man can barely get any peace and quiet in this hospital.” Dean Parlin coughed and continued, “I’m surprised that this many people have come to see me.”

“Don’t be foolish. Every student you ever met at UT loved you.”

“Rubbish. ‘[I] could never inspire students, [yet I] shared all of their troubles.’¹⁸ I would love to see campus one more time though. It is all I can ever think about these days.”

It was at this point that I witnessed one of the most remarkable and yet least surprising events of my life. The good Dean called for his nurse and cajoled her through humor, flattery and friendliness into one last ride around Austin and campus. She reluctantly gave in on one condition. The ride had to be in an ambulance, under her supervision, as the Dean was her charge. She wouldn’t want the old man to die while he was partaking in an unapproved field trip. We loaded the Dean into the ambulance and set off first to campus.¹⁹

The Dean’s kind words towards the nurse did not end once he got into the ambulance. He took it upon himself to give the nurse a personal tour of Austin as she had only recently moved here. We drove past his house as we listened to the good Dean tell stories of his encounters with students from many years past. They found themselves on his porch for one reason or another – scholastic probation, uncertainty in their lives or just the enjoyment of his company. No matter what they came for, they invariably all left an encounter with Dean Parlin inspired and reinvigorated. “If he had a secret, that probably was it – building an interest in the enjoyment of life.”²⁰

We continued our tour past the dining hall of the University Club that Dean Parlin managed for many years. There he hosted many social events for the students at the university. He felt it was his duty to contribute to the community of the University of Texas.²¹ We wound in and out of campus, letting the good Dean savor the atmosphere of the university one last time as he explained his love for it to the nurse. The Dean gave the university a sense of liveliness and purpose through his stories that I had never felt before in my life. One could watch the students go to class, relax on the south mall and live the university life without feeling the depth of life that was felt when listening to the good Dean speak about his beloved university.

Seal of the University as seen on the Student Union building

Photo taken by Thomas Lopez^v

“Texas is great not for her natural resources, but because of her men and women,” Dean Parlin told the nurse. “’If I have contributed anything to the University, it is not as a scholar. It is in personal contacts with these students.’²² And ‘if I have contributed anything to the College of Arts and Sciences, it has been to keep in the minds of a few faculty and students one great idea – to cultivate the mind.’²³ These students are what kept me at this university for my entire academic career. John, did you even see that some of my students had a portrait of me painted and put it on the second floor of the main building? Having my portrait next to men much greater than I am is the highest honor I could ever wish to receive.”²⁴

“Yes, I know about the portrait, but I haven’t seen it yet. I sent in some money when they were having it commissioned along with, I think, every other student you counseled in the past forty years. They told me money was received from all over the United States, South America, Europe and even Moscow.”²⁵

Portrait of Dean Parlin

Main Building, Second Floor

Photograph by Thomas Lopez

Portrait by Wayman Adams^vi

We finished our ambulance ride by taking the Dean through his beloved hill country. Dean Parlin absolutely loved the rolling hills and their simple nature. He would hike through the hill country by himself or with students whenever he had free time.²⁶

The good Dean passed away peacefully in his hospital bed several days after his last adventure in Austin. His funeral service was attended by over a thousand students, professors and alumni who all came to know and love the good Dean over the years.²⁷ I returned to Dallas after the funeral services and continued on with my life knowing I was challenged by Dean Parlin to become the man I am today.

Whenever I return to Austin, I take the time to visit the portrait of Dean Parlin on the second floor of the main building to pay homage to the great man. Keeping alive the memory of a man that formed the culture of this university to the extent that he did is the least I can do in service to my alma mater. Every now and then I find young students in that hallway examining the portraits of those long dead men, and on occasion, they take the time to listen to an old man tell the story of a builder of the University of Texas at Austin. I tell them that Dean Parlin was a man ‘who injected both a quiet sense of humor and an enduring respect for individual students into all his work.’²⁷ He learned a secret of life that many men never figure out. ‘He walked in beauty, and those whose lives touched him found a spark of that beauty in their own lives.’²⁸ My words may fall on deaf on ears, but I like to believe that maybe one of those students will take what I say to heart. The ghost of Dean Parlin is only kept alive through the memory of those at the university today.

Memorial plaque located in Parlin Hall

Photograph by Thomas Lopez^vii

Word Count: 3203

Ten words cut during revision process

1. Flo Cox, “Plan II Founder Ends 42-Year UT Career,” The Daily Texan, October 22, 1950.

2. The University of Texas at Austin, Documents and Minutes of the General Faculty: Report of the Special H.T. Parlin Memorial Resolution Committee, March 30, 1951.

3. The University of Texas at Austin, Documents and Minutes of the General Faculty: Report of the Special H.T. Parlin Memorial Resolution Committee, March 30, 1951.

4. Mary L. Kennedy, “University Dean 21 Years, H.T. Parlin Has Fostered Sense of Human Relations,” Austin American Statesman, August 6, 1950.

5. The University of Texas at Austin, Documents and Minutes of the General Faculty: Report of the Special H.T. Parlin Memorial Resolution Committee, March 30, 1951.

6. Austin American Statesman, “Dean Parlin’s Funeral Rites Set for Today,” February 4, 1951.

7. Flo Cox, “Plan II Founder Ends 42-Year UT Career,” The Daily Texan, October 22, 1950.

8. Flo Cox, “Plan II Founder Ends 42-Year UT Career,” The Daily Texan, October 22, 1950.

9. Flo Cox, “Plan II Founder Ends 42-Year UT Career,” The Daily Texan, October 22, 1950.

10. The University of Texas at Austin, Documents and Minutes of the General Faculty: Report of the Special H.T. Parlin Memorial Resolution Committee, March 30, 1951.

11. The Daily Texan, “Money Not All, Parlin Believes,” May 5, 1950.

12. Flo Cox, “UT Given Portrait Of Dean H.T. Parlin,” The Daily Texan, April 30, 1950.

13. Flo Cox, “Plan II Founder Ends 42-Year UT Career,” The Daily Texan, October 22, 1950.

14. The University of Texas at Austin, Documents and Minutes of the General Faculty: Report of the Special H.T. Parlin Memorial Resolution Committee, March 30, 1951.

15. Austin American Statesman, “Dean Parlin’s Funeral Rites Set for Today,” February 4, 1951.

16. Flo Cox, “Plan II Founder Ends 42-Year UT Career,” The Daily Texan, October 22, 1950.

17. Austin American Statesman, “Dean Parlin’s Funeral Rites Set for Today,” February 4, 1951.

18. Flo Cox, “UT Given Portrait Of Dean H.T. Parlin,” The Daily Texan, April 30, 1950.

19. Austin American Statesman, “Dean Parlin’s Funeral Rites Set for Today,” February 4, 1951.

20. Texas Times, “Parlin Hall Honors Memory Of Dean,” March, 1968.

21. The University of Texas at Austin, Documents and Minutes of the General Faculty: Report of the Special H.T. Parlin Memorial Resolution Committee, March 30, 1951.

22. Flo Cox, “UT Given Portrait Of Dean H.T. Parlin,” The Daily Texan, April 30, 1950.

23. Flo Cox, “Plan II Founder Ends 42-Year UT Career,” The Daily Texan, October 22, 1950.

24. Flo Cox, “UT Given Portrait Of Dean H.T. Parlin,” The Daily Texan, April 30, 1950.

25. Flo Cox, “UT Given Portrait Of Dean H.T. Parlin,” The Daily Texan, April 30, 1950.

26. The University of Texas at Austin, Documents and Minutes of the General Faculty: Report of the Special H.T. Parlin Memorial Resolution Committee, March 30, 1951.

27. Amy Jo Long, “Parlin Hall,” UT News, May 10, 1968.

28. The Daily Texan, “A Fine Arts Center For Beloved Parlin,” February 6, 1951.

i. Minutes of the UT Board of Regents, “Dean Parlin in his Office,” March 17, 1951

ii. A View of the Tower at Sunset, http://www.kkn.net/~k5tr/photo/pcd2818/utarc-tower-ut-tower-73.3.jpg

iii. The University of Texas as seen in 1907, http://www.austinpostcard.com/images/postcards/utfolder1a.jpg

iv. Brackenridge Hospital c. 1950, http://www.chase-1.com/oldbrack.jpg

v. Seal of the University from Student Union building, Photographed by Thomas Lopez

vi. “Dean Parlin,” Main Building, Painted by Wayman Adams, Photographed by Thomas Lopez

vii. Memorial Plaque, Parlin Hall, Photographed by Thomas Lopez