SHINE PROFILES

SHINE: ALEX CHOU ’22

A Concerto of Connections

WHETHER THROUGH THE UNIVERSAL LANGUAGE OF MUSIC OR AS AN ENGLISH LANGUAGE TEACHER IN JAPAN, CHOU CONNECTS WITH HIS STUDENTS, HIS HERITAGE, AND HIMSELF.

Growing up half Chinese and half Japanese in the United States, Chou learned to navigate multiple cultures and identities from an early age. Now, as an assistant language teacher through the Japanese Exchange and Teaching (JET) Program, he’s using his knowledge and experience to connect his home country with high school students in a remote Japanese town.

When Chou came to Gustavus, he didn’t expect to pursue Japanese studies, let alone a year-long post-graduate program in Japan. However, while studying general education classes outside his premed track, he found himself taking Premodern East Asia with history and Japanese studies professor David Tobaru Obermiller. The switch to a history major with a minor in Japanese studies soon followed. “History is so much di erent in college than in high school,” Chou says. “The discussions that you have, the critical thinking that goes on. And being able to unravel a lot of multiple perspectives opened a new world for me.”

Tobaru Obermiller became a close mentor who eventually wrote one of Chou’s recommendation letters for the JET Program. The other came from former Gustavus Symphony Orchestra conductor Ruth Lin. “They both challenged me—not just academically, but also as a person in terms of being able to transcend fear and go for opportunities into the unknown”

As a student, he became the orchestra’s concertmaster and performed for audiences in multiple countries. “Traveling across the world with the Gustavus Symphony Orchestra was pure joy,” Chou says. “We may not have spoken the same language, but music served as a universal bridge to communicate with each other.”

Participating in the JET Program has marked Chou’s fi rst time living abroad for an extended time. Despite the challenges of conducting everyday tasks in his non-native language, he’s found support from his Japanese colleagues and his fellow JETs in neighboring prefectures. “In hard times, I always lean on people,” he says.

The same held true at Gustavus. “I was feeling homesick recently, so I looked back at some old Gustavus photos. They fi lled me with so much joy and nostalgia.”

COMMUNITY

For Chou, working as a high school English teacher in Japan has been a lesson in everyday courage. “You’ve just got to put yourself out there,” he says. “Muster up the courage to say hello and strike up a conversation; it goes a long way.

For me, teachers don’t just teach. I get to learn from sta

and students, too.”

SHINE: JEFF JENSON

Swedish Lutheran History in our Hands

UP THE LIBRARY STAIRS AND INTO THE STACKS, THIS GUSTAVUS AND

LUTHERAN CHURCH ARCHIVIST CONNECTS US TO OUR COLLEGE’S ORIGINS

“Anything can be interesting to the right person. And certain collections are very interesting to people who are part of that history.” Jenson, who got his masters in history at Minnesota State University, Mankato, had no connection to Gustavus other than a little Swedish ancestry when he took charge of the College’s connection with the Swedish Lutheran immigrants who founded it. The Lutheran Church archives consist of records from the earliest Swedish Lutheran immigrants in Minnesota in the 1850s, including those who started Gustavus. It includes records of the former governing body of all Swedish Lutheran churches in Minnesota and the Dakotas through 1962, when various Swedish-American churches merged into the Lutheran Church in America. And it includes records of that governing body, up through 1988, when the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America was formed. (ELCA archives are in Chicago.) Jenson also makes an e ort to acquire documents from student organizations like sororities, fraternities, and honor societies so that these groups may see their mark on Gustavus. “We have a sorority that comes into the archives and has their members look at their organization’s history,” he says. “It’s always an amazing thing. It’s their history and they care a lot about it.” Getting people’s own history into their hands is a passion for Jenson. He teaches Genealogy Research and Exploration as a January Interim Experience that helps Gustavus students connect with their family’s past. “It’s a popular class and the students are passionate about learning their own history.” He also relishes the opportunity to help students and visitors handle books that are more than 500 years old, and manuscripts that are 1,000 years old. He always keeps a piece of his own history near him: an aerial photo of his hometown of La Crescent, taken in the 1950s, and framed by a 23-yearold Jenson. “You can really see how much things change over time.”

Part of what makes the Gustavus Archives so special is the people who have donated to create the collections. “We can have an amazing robust collection 50 years from now if we start acquiring materials today,” Jenson says. “I’d like people to know that they’re defi nitely a part of what we do.” Think you have something that the Gustavus Adolphus College and Think you have something that the Gustavus Adolphus College and Lutheran Church Archives might want? Visit gustavus.edu/library/archives.

EXCELLENCE

SHINE: ADRIANNA DARDEN

History Is A Group Project

PRESERVING GUSTAVUS’S HISTORY IS NOT A ONE-PERSON SHOW; IT TAKES A VILLAGE TO MAKE THE PAST ACCESSIBLE.

Working in the Gustavus Adolphus College Archives means immersion in the campus’s long, evergrowing history. It means prioritizing organization and accessibility. “This is a career that has a calling; nobody settles to be in the archives,” Darden says. It is crucial that historical objects are well preserved, properly dated, and highly organized so that all members of the Gustavus community— who come for nostalgia, research, and celebration—can use and enjoy them.

To do her job, Darden must have the objects themselves. “Give me everything you don’t want,” she says, even the latest meeting minutes or alumni get-together swag. “The present will become history one day.” The belief that the archives will only accept or hold on to older materials is false. Darden encourages folks to take the initiative and donate any items that they would want to see in a museum one day. After all, history is a collective e ort and it cannot be secured by one person alone. Those who give are the keepers of the stories we will tell in the future. “Keep the College Archives in the loop,” she says. We can’t do this job without people.”

Darden fi rst discovered the archives during her undergrad years at Luther College. She was a history major who was not interested in teaching. After taking a single archives course, she was hooked. Her passion—and career plans—became clear. “I love having a hand in preserving history.”

After answering the what of her life, Darden had to fi nd her future where. Her journey to Gustavus came down to connections and an aggressive post-graduation job hunt (plus encouraging words from her family). She joined Gustavus in 2009 after completing her masters in library science from Simmons College.

Thirteen years later, she is glad she made the leap. Despite an aversion to teaching in the traditional sense, she loves working with students. “It’s so interesting and rewarding. The Archives are always here to help them.”

And everyone else. Even though Gustavus and Gusties dedicate ample time to care for the College’s present and future, they also deeply tend to its past. “Gustavus has a long and well-documented history. It’s clear that Gustavus cared about its history from a very early point. We really value the archives.”

COMMUNITY

The College’s 150th anniversary was a celebration of our rich history, so Darden’s work was in full swing. After countless hours of organizing and displaying the campus’s past for the public to see, Darden was taken aback by the support and praise that came from the Gustavus community. She was incredibly proud of her and her colleagues’ work. “I am happy to be one of those people that care about history.”

Darden was taken aback

History

IN OBJECTS

Enjoy this journey through the wild and wonderful items found around campus and in the Gustavus Archives. These are the stories behind the unique items that make us who we were, and who we are.

By Stephanie Wilbur Ash, Bruce Berglund, Luc Hatlestad, and Emma Myhre ’19

WHAT’S ANOTHER WORD FOR “Help! It makes my eyes burn!”?

Eleanor Guanella ’24, Andrew Escoto ’26, Corina Occhiato ’26, and Daniel Hendrickson ’26.

TTHE SECOND-UGLIEST COUCH IN AMERICA On Sept. 15, 2004, Sarah Pedersen Byrnes ’07 appeared on Live with Regis and Kelly to discuss this couch from the Writing Center, one of three fi nalists in the 2004 Ugly Couch Contest. It came in second. For Writing Center director Eric Vrooman, the couch is fodder, if not for the landfi ll then for writing exercises. “How do you describe the yellow? How do you describe the green?” he is known to ask visitors. Its origin story is fuzzy, but English professor Becky Fremo believes a writing tutor rescued it from a campus dumpster twenty or so years ago. She has an unpublished fi ctional story by former English professor Eric Eliason called “Sofa So Good.” It’s a ghost story, though romance also surrounds the couch. “I like to think that since former Writing Center tutors Kara Barnette ’05 and Drew Grace ’04 got married, it’s a better predictor of romance than the Square Dance,” she says. Though it’s mostly been in Confer-Vickner, you’ll fi nd it today at the Writing Center in Anderson Hall. You can’t miss it.

HEAR YE, HEAR YE According to a dictum to the Class of 1959 from the Class of 1955: “All freshmen will be privileged to wear their freshman green beanies at all times and at all places. This includes the active hours spent in class, the shower, and o campus, etc., and the immobile hours spent in the sack.”

CCHIP OFF THE OLD ROCK This is what one hundred years of layered paint looks like.

The exact origins of The Rock are unknown; most likely it’s a remnant of a fi eld of small boulders that were scattered at the bottom of Old Main Hill. How many times it’s been painted is also unknown. This fall, “Greeks have been painting it three to fi ve times a week,” says campus activities director Andrea Junso. “It’s a rite of passage.” In 1966, a group of students (allegedly) took that rite to the extreme. They removed The Rock and replaced it with a smaller rock, probably in response to the news that a new library was in the works. (A sign next to the new rock read Countess Folke Bernadotte Memorial Rock Substitute. Do Not Paint.) In the Oct. 14 issue of The Gustavian Weekly, a reporter identifi ed only as Reporter 72 to protect their identity, called the crime, “the most daring coup in the history of Gustavus crime.” There is also an obituary in that issue for Reporter 72. They (allegedly) died while reporting the story. SSTONE GROUND In the fall of 1863, St. Ansgar Academy, the predecessor to Gustavus Adolphus College, moved from Red Wing to East Union, Minn. Times were tough for the college, and one solution to stay solvent was to open a fl our mill in 1867. St. Angsar was known as a “Mission Mill Company” that allowed students to o set their education with work. The Gustavus Class of 1922 elevated the millstone to monument. According to The Gustavian Weekly in 1926, the millstone represents, “the fi rst attempt to safeguard the fi nancial outlook of Gustavus and therefore may justly be called the fi rst endowment.” Ironically, the fl our mill put the school into even more GUSTAVUS QUARTERLY | WINTER 2022 fi nancial disarray. Records of the time show St. Ansgar was more than $5,000 in debt, or $90,000 in today’s dollars. No o cial word on whether this stone was ever used to grind the rye to make Ma Young’s famous rye bread. At some point the millstone, with a bronze plate bearing its history, made its way to a spot between Old Main and Rundstrom Hall. It has since been removed to preserve it.

VVÄLKOMMEN TO GUSTIE SWEDEN At the corner of 7th and Pine stood an old Victorian called the Swedish House, a student residence beginning in 1974. Its kitchen door became covered with Swedish and Scandinavian stickers, evidence of students’ travels. When the house was destroyed during the tornado of 1998, then-Scandinavian Studies professor Roland Thorstensson and then-director of the Career Center Je Stocco quietly carried the door away during campus cleanup. “We must have looked very funny, but I don’t think there were too many people roaming around stealing doors,” Thorstensson says. It was stored in his garage until 2000. Today it is, well, right next door to the interior entrance of the Swedish House in the Carlson International Center. “I cleaned it up a little, touched it up with black paint,” Thorstensson says. “I even added one sticker. Only one!”

STRIKES AGAINST DISCRIMINATION

In the winter of 2016, the Diversity In the winter of 2016, the Diversity Center and the Center for International Center and the Center for International and Cultural Education held a cathartic joint event at KingPins Bowling Center in Saint Peter. They bought the pins and students wrote examples of o ensive things that had been said to them. “Like, ‘Can I touch your hair?’ and ‘Wow, your English is so good,’” says Roger Adkins, former director of the CICE. Then they bowled them over. The idea was former Diversity Center assistant director Kenneth Reid’s. “It was a huge success and a lot of fun,” Reid says. Students took the pins home. Those who were there signed this one. It resides— upright—in the Center for Inclusive Excellence today.

LLIONIZED In the fall of 1960, a contest was held for a mascot that would perfectly represent Gustavus. A lion made sense, as the Swedish King Gustavus Adolphus was known as “The Lion of the North.” That original costume was worn by any student ready to lead the pack. It disappeared. In 1983, his son was born. He was named Thor, like the Norse warrior God, after a student body vote. Gus the Lion, pictured here, arrived in the early 1990s. A Gustavian Weekly profi le of this Gus, written by Betsy Langowski ’08, who apparently snagged an exclusive interview, describes the grandson of the original mascot as “an average Gustie in his interests and activities. He’s a big fan of movies, especially The Wizard of Oz. He likes alternative music (ironically, the band Guster tops his list), and he also secretly adores pop icons such as Britney Spears, Ashlee Simpson, and Kelly Clarkson.” This Gus comfortably retired to the archives in 2012 when another new Gus was born, just in time for the College’s Sesquicentennial. You can reach the current Gus through his friends at the Campus Activities O ce. Though he’s not much for words, he’s got a lot of Gustavus pride.

SIGNATURES OF NOTE

When the Nobel Hall of Science was dedicated on May When the Nobel Hall of Science was dedicated on May 4, 1963, the ceremony counted 26 Nobel laureates, as 4, 1963, the ceremony counted 26 Nobel laureates, as well as o cials from the Nobel Foundation. It was the well as o cials from the Nobel Foundation. It was the third-largest gathering of laureates to date—and the third-largest gathering of laureates to date—and the largest outside Sweden. Ralph Bunche, who was awarded largest outside Sweden. Ralph Bunche, who was awarded the Nobel Peace Prize in 1950 for brokering a 1948 the Nobel Peace Prize in 1950 for brokering a 1948 cease fi re between Israelis and Arabs and the fi rst African cease fi re between Israelis and Arabs and the fi rst African American to be awarded the Peace Prize, delivered the American to be awarded the Peace Prize, delivered the address. Chemistry Laureate Linus Pauling stayed on after to address. Chemistry Laureate Linus Pauling stayed on after to lecture about his book, No More War. Many signed the pages . Many signed the pages of this guestbook, including laureates, dignitaries, college and of this guestbook, including laureates, dignitaries, college and government o cials, and folks from all over Minnesota, the government o cials, and folks from all over Minnesota, the country, and the world.

SSHE WAS A BRICK HOUSE Its namesake, Minnesota Governor John A. Johnson, secured $32,500 from Andrew Carnegie to expand the campus in 1908. The 1910 college catalog boasted a new fi reproof brick women’s dormitory with electric heat and lights. In 1923, the Johnson women requested a curfew change from 10:00 p.m. to 11:00 p.m. (Men had no curfew.) The request was denied. Women would have a curfew until at least 1968. During World War II, Johnson housed men in the Navy V-12 program (page 20), otherwise it was women only until 1990. It was lost to the 1998 tornado. This sweatshirt is in the archives, the brick is in the o ce of Rich Aune ’81, associate vice president and dean of admission, who saved it before demolition.

AA LARGE CONSOLATION PRIZE In 1950, the Gustavus football team was conference champion. To cap the season, the players boarded a train in early December for the 700the season, the players boarded a train in early December for the 700mile trip to Evansville, Indiana—home of the Refrigerator Bowl. A number mile trip to Evansville, Indiana—home of the Refrigerator Bowl. A number of college football bowl games were launched in the years after World War II, of college football bowl games were launched in the years after World War II, including such short-lived contests as the Raisin Bowl in Fresno and the Cigar Bowl in Tampa. The Refrigerator Bowl was fi tting for Evansville. The city’s three factories produced 3,800 fridges per day.

The Gusties had a warm welcome in Evansville, with Coach Lloyd Hollingsworth receiving a three-foot key to the city. That was the highlight of the trip. Gustavus lost 14–7 to Abilene Christian in a rainstorm. “It poured,” recalled Dennis Raarup ’53, a member of the 1950 team and later coach of the Gusties. “It was a quagmire.” Adding insult to injury, the players’ wet, woolen jerseys turned moldy on the long trip back to Gustavus. But the key to the Refrigerator Capital of the World remained untarnished. You can fi nd it locked in the trophy case in the Lund Center Hall of Champions.

AMany campuses across the country have an “Old Main.” These 19th century buildings, with their stone facades and ornate clock towers, are reminders of the determination and hope that drove immigrants to found colleges for their communities. When our Old Main was dedicated on October 31, 1876, hundreds of people came to gather at the newly built structure. Founder Eric Norelius declared that Gustavus Adolphus was “a name that shines like a star of the fi rmaments.” Old Main matched the soaring heights of the day’s speeches, at least on the outside. The building’s

ASPIRING TO A GREATER GUSTAVUS

interior was still unfi nished. Without desks or lamps in classrooms, students sat on the fl oor near windows to do their coursework. Like campus as a whole, Old Main has been in a constant process of renovation and updating over the decades. The wooden fi nial sheared o in the tornado (pictured here, currently located in the archives) was not the original. “There was a renovation of the clock tower in the 70s. The original fi nial was replaced then,” says former physical plant director Warren Wunderlich. “Somewhere on campus, there is a second damaged fi nial.” That one is hidden in the basement of Co-Ed, now called Norelius.

RRINGING ENDORSEMENTS When alumni visit the Book Mark, “One of the fi rst things they’ll show us is their class ring,” says manager Molly Yunkers. “They hold their hand up and the stories start to fl ow.” Like a yearbook and a letter jacket, a class ring is a piece of memorabilia infused with the meaning of place and individual accomplishment. Early designs were signet style, meant to dip into wax to seal a letter with your credentials. Class rings are an American trend for sure, and a local one at Gustavus. Jostens, a maker of class rings since 1906, began just 53 miles east of Saint Peter in Owatonna. Recently, there’s been a resurgence in class ring popularity, particularly the vintage-looking signet style. Don’t have one? You can aways get one in your class year, and customized in other ways too, at jostens.com. Remember: graduates wear the insignia facing outward.

FLORENCE TURNER PETERSON 1922, taught English and history at Gustavus, and worked in the College’s archives. The ring is a 10-karat gold signet engraved with her initials. Old Main is on the front.

EVA TEDERSTROM WICKLUND 1919, donated by her son, Edward Wicklund. Also a signet style, this silver ring has a GAC logo on its front. She was president of Alpha Phi sorority and vice president of the Young Women's Luther League.

JJ AKIN ’11 The contemporary “G” ring most of us are familiar with today. This one is white lustrium, with the class year on the side. He was an English major and a member of the Gustavus football team.

HHOT TOPICS The ashes of great literature fi ll this unassuming holiday canister English professor Phil Bryant ’73 grabbed from his house en route to teach Book Burning 17 years ago. In his course, students read a selection of banned books—this year included Huckleberry Finn, Invisible Man, and 1984—and discuss. As a 100-level class, it’s a true liberal arts o ering, catching a variety of students. “I try to make it a safe space where we can have civil discussion about censorship and banning,” Bryant says. On the last day, students bring a favorite passage, read it out loud, and toss it into this “urn.” Then, evoking the fi nal scene of François Tru aut’s movie Farenheit 451, Bryant lights it on fi re. “It’s very moving,” he says, “but it’s not about the burning. The book is a physical manifestation of something spiritual. It’s about the books being embodied in us.”

GGOODNIGHT, ERIC NORELIUS Tala i nattmössan. The Swedish phrase is translated as “talk in the nightcap.” It’s used when someone is speaking nonsense, like we do while talking in our sleep. Nightcaps were common bedtime attire for men and women in the 1800s, especially in northern Europe. Eric Norelius surely wore one in his home province of Hälsingland, Sweden, before emigrating to the U.S. . The nightcap served di erent purposes. It kept the head warm in the age before central heating. It also kept bed clothes clean at a time when hair washing was rare and pomades were popular. Norelius wasn’t known for talking nonsense—in his sleep or otherwise. He was a pastor known for service to others. Along with founding Gustavus, he started the children’s home that was the forerunner to Lutheran Social Service and edited a Swedish-language newspaper for immigrants. Two of his nightcaps are in the Gustavus Archives. The one pictured here is embroidered.

HIM IN HIS CAP It’s the great great great grandson of Eric Norelius, Aaron Norelius ’26.

TTO THE MOON, GUSTAVUS! As certain uber-wealthy entrepreneurs strive to make a walk on the moon as achievable as a walk in the park, a treasured relic of lunar exploration lives as achievable as a walk in the park, a treasured relic of lunar exploration lives right here at Gustavus. In 1967, the school awarded an honorary right here at Gustavus. In 1967, the school awarded an honorary doctorate of science degree to astronaut Edwin doctorate of science degree to astronaut Edwin “Buzz” Aldrin to celebrate his Gemini XII mission. When he was later chosen to be one of three astronauts on the Apollo XI mission, of three astronauts on the Apollo XI mission, Jim Wennblom ’53, then the Gustavus director of public Jim Wennblom ’53, then the Gustavus director of public relations, conceived a way to establish the College as the fi rst “universal” relations, conceived a way to establish the College as the fi rst “universal” institution of higher learning by asking him to take a Gustavus pennant with him institution of higher learning by asking him to take a Gustavus pennant with him to outer space. Aldrin agreed, provided it was small, lightweight, and easily vacuum packed. to outer space. Aldrin agreed, provided it was small, lightweight, and easily vacuum packed. When he and fellow astronauts Neil Armstrong and Michael Collins became the fi rst humans When he and fellow astronauts Neil Armstrong and Michael Collins became the fi rst humans to walk on the moon on July 21, 1969, the Gustie pennant was along for the ride. Aldrin to walk on the moon on July 21, 1969, the Gustie pennant was along for the ride. Aldrin returned it to Gustavus with a small American fl ag from the mission and an o cial patch. This otherworldly bit of history can be found in Olin Hall, where it invites and inspires students to daydream about future study away programs in galaxies far, far away.

CCONGRATS TO COMPANY F When the U.S. military underwent a massive expansion during World War II, enrollment at colleges expansion during World War II, enrollment at colleges plummeted as young men entered the armed services plummeted as young men entered the armed services and military academies couldn’t provide o cers fast and military academies couldn’t provide o cers fast enough.

The V-12 Navy College Training Program solved both problems. O cer candidates completed their bachelor’s degrees, then they went to o cer-training school before being deployed. The fi rst V-12 cadets arrived at Gustavus in July 1943. The College adopted a year-round schedule to meet the needs of these 400 students, GUSTAVUS QUARTERLY | WINTER 2022 half in the Navy and half in the Marines. Dressed in uniform, they outnumbered civilian students by more than 4-to-1. By the time the V-12 program ended in 1945, some 1,000 o cers had studied at Gustavus. This wooden plaque from the College Archives was likely given to “Company F” for winning a drills competition. The names of the 35 men under company commander Schreifer are on the back.

GGONE TOO SOON Joel Sandberg ’67 spent his early years in Becker, where his father was a Lutheran minister. Rev. Ralph Sandberg ’39 and Eleanor Valberg Sandberg ’40 moved their children to Connecticut when Joel was in high school. He returned to Saint Peter, his mother’s hometown, to attend Gustavus. A math major who played tennis and trombone and was in the Kappa Sigma Chi Fraternity, he graduated in 1967 and enlisted in the Navy. Lieutenant Sandberg was stationed in South Vietnam with a squadron known as the Black Ponies. He piloted an OV10 Bronco, an observation plane that provided support for patrol boats in the Mekong River delta. In late afternoon of Dec. 20, 1969, Sandberg was fl ying south of Saigon. Spotting a suspicious-looking boat, he radioed that he was descending to investigate. This was his last transmission. Burning wreckage was soon sighted, and a Navy unit was dispatched to search for the crew. Joel Sandberg’s remains were never found. His mother donated his service medals to Gustavus. A bust of Joel— created by Don Gregory ’47 and cast in bronze by Paul Granlund ’52—is located in the northwest entry of the Art Wing of Schaefer Fine Arts.

BEFORE GOOGLE CALENDAR

students handwrote their schedules and assignments. How analog!

FFASHION FROM THE

HOUSE OF BJÖRLING

In 2002, then-fi ne arts director Al Behrends ’77 toured the Jussi Björling Museum in Borlänge, Sweden with the Gustavus Wind Orchestra. The museum director asked, “Why doesn’t Gustavus have a stronger connection with the Björling family?” After all, the Gustavus recital hall is named for the Swedish tenor, and Björling’s son, Anders ’58, was a longtime Comptroller of the College and owner of Saint Peter’s Swedish Kontur Imports (see page 41). It was a good question, and shortly after, Anders procured Jussi’s costume from the Metropolitan Opera’s production of Faust (in which Jussi played the starring role) as well as a musical score from the production with Jussi’s notes in German, Swedish, and English. They are displayed in Björling Recital Hall’s lobby.

As a child, Jussi visited Saint Peter with his parents as a member of the Björling Family Musicians. By the time he played Faust at The Met in 1950 and 1959, he was considered the most famous musician in the world. “Historically, the costume and score are valuable and fascinating pieces of music history,” Behrends says. As bargains go, their acquisition has not been Faustian in any way the makers of this magazine are aware of. (in which Jussi played the starring role) as well as a musical score from the production with Jussi’s notes in German, Swedish, and English. They are displayed in Björling Recital Hall’s lobby.

As a child, Jussi visited Saint Peter with his parents as a member of the Björling Family Musicians. By the time he played Faust at The Met in 1950 and 1959, he was considered the most famous musician in the world. “Historically, the costume and score are valuable and fascinating pieces of music history,” Behrends says. As bargains go, their acquisition has not been Faustian in any way the makers of this

220 YEARS OF CINCC That’s what these pins represent. Christmas in Christ Chapel itself has been a tradition since 1973. More than 5,000 audience members attend in person each year, and thousands more view the event online, live, and on replay, in emerging traditions of Gusties gathered in each other’s homes for watch parties. Almost from the beginning, “O Come All Ye Faithful” has been the closing hymn, and the current arrangement was commissioned specifi cally for Gustavus in 1976. In 1979, CinCC closed with Handel’s “Hallelujah Chorus” instead. Ope. We have remained faithful to our original plan since.

2001: CELTIC PILGRIMAGE. The fi rst pin was shaped like a Celtic cross. So were the invitations and the human-sized ice sculpture outside Christ Chapel.

2004: SEASONS OF PROMISE.

It features art by He Qi, the fi rst among Mainland Chinese to earn a PhD in religious art after the 1992 Revolution.

2014: TENDER ROSE, STARRY

NIGHT. The fi rst livestream beamed CinCC into homes, ushering in appearance on National Public Television.

TTHAT OLD LIBERAL ARTS SONG This banjo belonged to Carl Towley ’28. According to his senior yearbook, he was “a goodnatured fellow with a resolute admiration for a tall violet that grows on Fourth Street.” That was Violet Mattson ’28, his future wife. The Gustavian Weekly was only three years old when Towley began working on it, and evidence of his passion are all over this banjo: the letters of Iota Chi Sigma, the journalism fraternity he helped found, and illustrations for his satirical Weekly column, “Old Mane.” There is no immediate evidence he pursued banjo picking after college. He was a newspaper editor, a secretary to the Minnesota Senate, and a high school journalism teacher and principal. (The national Journalism Educators Association still gives The Carl Towley Award, its highest honor, to a high school journalism teacher.) He was also dad to Carl Towley ’54, who was also a musician—a baritone and bass—and an editor at The Weekly. He went on to become an Army chaplain, and to deliver the liturgy at the dedication of Christ Chapel in 1962. You can fi nd the banjo in the archives. You can fi nd The Weekly all over campus. You can fi nd Christ Chapel right where the builders left it.

SMALL WONDERS It is fi tting to end on Paul Grandlund ’52. The sculptor left a legacy of more than 650 fi gurative bronze sculptures in public installations and private collections nationally and internationally. Certainly you’ve seen the large outdoor sculptures in the College’s collection. The three pictured here are each small enough to hold in your hand. Together, they make up Floor Exercises (1984), inspired by the 1984 Summer Olympics. “Olga,” “Nadia,” and “Ludmilla,” as they are named, are tucked into the north end of the trophy case in Lund Center’s Hall of Champions, good reminders that history is around every corner, and always in motion.