The Plank at Pitt

As soon as he had dismissed History Professor Ralph E. Turner last week. University of Pittsburgh's Chancellor John Gabbert Bowman let it be known that Professor Turner's liberal activities had nothing to do with the case. Said Chancellor Bowman: "I merely thought his position here could be better filled by another man." But the nation raised a doubtful eyebrow. Too many facts fitted too neatly into a contrary pattern. In 1921 hardfisted, go-getting Chancellor Bowman had a vision. He would dramatize and thus revive his huge,* down-at-heels University by giving it the tallest academic building in the world. For 13 years he has thought, dreamed, talked of almost nothing else. Under his flowery salesmanship Pittsburgh pocketbooks melted. His dream became 42 stories of clean steel towering above the city's smoke and grime. But Depression canceled many a promise of cash. Since 1931 the Cathedral of Learning has been a stranded skeleton, with students warming themselves by oil burners in the seven floors completed. To finish dressing his dream in stone Chancellor Bowman lately launched a new campaign for $1,650,000. It has gone harder this time and by last week only $630,000 had been pledged.

Ninety-seven thousand Pittsburgh schoolchildren gave a dime apiece toward the $5,000,000 already spent on the Cathedral. A Magyar woman gave the price of a month's meat. A millworker offered his all. But modern cathedrals are not built by small fry. To Pittsburgh's potent industrialists Chancellor Bowman had to turn for the huge chunks of cash which his dream demands. His trustees include Andrew William Mellon and his nephew Richard, Oilman Joseph Clifton Trees, Foodman Howard Heinz. Westinghouse Boardchairman Andrew Wells Robertson, Banker Henry Clay McEldowney, Steelman Ernest Tener Weir.

Small use have such tycoons for the Tugwellian likes of Ralph Edmund Turner, who used to be State chairman of labor-aiding Pennsylvania Security League. Even after University pressure reputedly made him give up that job he kept on loudly fighting the League's battles against sweatshops and exploitation of women & children, for old-age pensions, unemployment insurance, workmen's compensation. Nor is he the kind of antagonist who makes opponents love him in spite of honest differences. Chunky and spike-haired, he prides himself on speaking his mind anywhere about anything. When he gets on the subject of "invisible government" his thin, sarcastic voice grows shrill with rage. But he is a good teacher. Two years ago Pitt seniors voted him their most popular professor. If anyone still doubted that he was a good teacher, Ralph Edmund Turner could and did refer him last week to no less an authority than John Gabbert Bowman, who few years ago publicly called him "one of the ten best professors in the University."

The Press promptly recalled five other liberal professors who have lately walked Pitt's plank. Friends brandished an investigation by American Association of University Professors. Labor leaders promised a huge protest meeting. Led by a June graduate of Pitt named Marjorie Hanson, the League for Social Justice called for Chancellor Bowman's resignation, promised a house-to-house canvass of Pitt students. State Democratic Chairman David L. Lawrence suggested that at its next session the Legislature might well cut Pitt off its lifeline of State aid.

*Present enrollment: 11,662.

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