Washburn Receives Honorary Degree

Washburn Reaches Another Pinnacle with Honorary Degree, Commencement Address

BY SCOTT QUEEN

At 91, Robert Washburn thought the life-changing moments on his journey were likely behind him.

He took a few job risks in his younger years and succeeded beyond his wildest imagination. He married the love of his life, Jane, and they had two children who to this day generate immense pride. And he has dealt with overwhelming grief at the loss of his wife after 69 years.

Yet, earlier this year he made a phone call that created a seismic shift. He called the provost’s office at Central Methodist University.

Washburn’s one regret in life was that he never finished his degree at Central, and since he didn’t have anything to do that afternoon, he picked up the phone and called to see how many credits he had and whether he could “take a class on the internet.”

When Provost Rita Gulstad heard Washburn’s story and learned of his impact and his success, she got an idea. What if Central awarded him an honorary bachelor’s degree and gave him the chance to deliver the commencement address in December?

“I choke up when I think about it,” said Washburn, who lives in the Kansas City area. “It was like a storybook offer. You know, you live your life and think there are parts you are never going to get back. Now I get to walk across the stage.”

Washburn, who was one of the programmers for the Titan missile, started writing. But this time it wasn’t code. It was a special gift for the graduates of Central, talking not about his accomplishments but about what he has learned.

Washburn left Central after just three semesters. He and Jane were married, and he was beginning his work life. He had just lost his father. He started at the bottom as an “office boy” and rose to great heights in an extraordinary corporate career.

His first stop was the KT Railroad, where his father was once a conductor, making runs from New Franklin to Parsons, Kansas. He got a job “working with numbers” and began working with electronic accounting machines as a junior tabulator operator.

“That was before computers,” he said. “It’s where I fell in love with information technology.”

The next stop was General Motors in Kansas City, where he learned how to work on equipment controlled by wiring panels. He then knew his calling was to be a programmer. This is where another one of his life-changing moments occurred.

“They sent me to a Dale Carnegie course,” he said. “I had to come up with half the cost, but it was worth it. That’s when I started focusing on leadership, integrity, and never giving up.”

Washburn was promoted at General Motors but faced a brick wall when it came to programming. They wouldn’t move him to the position because he didn’t have a degree.

So, it was on to the next stop, Martin Marietta in Colorado, where they recognized his programming brilliance and offered him a job working on the Titan missile, the largest intercontinental ballistic missile ever deployed.

“That’s when I started working on the IBM 650, the world’s first mass-produced computer,” said Washburn.

He wrote programs for the Titan for many years until he was scooped up by Montgomery Ward. He then proceeded to work on programming for the dawn of mass credit and inventory control systems.

Washburn’s final stop was at Western Auto, where he secured the position of vice president for logistics and information technology.

Jane was always at his side, moving onward and upward with each career. He points out that she was a lover of art, specifically the Renaissance era and Thomas Hart Benton. He still has her beautiful walnut baby grand piano in the living room, in addition to an 1800s pump organ.

Jane passed away last December after a bout with pulmonary fibrosis. He was her caregiver until the end.

“It’s one of those things you have to do,” he said. “It’s a part of your journey.”