Creighton University

Like all other things, college commencements have undergone a profound change during the last half century. Fifty years ago there were so-called commencements during the year, the annual one which no power on earth seemed able to dislodge from the last Wednesday in June, and the semi-annual which was held sometime in February. To these two it was the custom for a while, in the eighties especially, to add a third one, in May, which was scientific, and in which two or three students gave lectures on some scientific topic and with the help of a few companions illustrated them with experiments. These were the only occasions in which students handled scientific apparatus personally.

The annual commencement was generally conducted in this way. Speeches were delivered by the graduates mostly on some philosophic subject. If the number of the graduates was nor too great, every one of them made a speech; if it was too large, of course only the best were selected, and if too small, students from other classes assisted. The college orchestra, or if there was none, a hired orchestra, relieved the strain with a few pieces of music. The last speech was always entirely or partially a valedictory.

Thin followed the long list of premiums. A book was given to the first, and also to the second, in each branch in each class, and three or more who were next in merit were read out as distinguished, three distinctions then being rewarded with a book. When a bright student received an armful of books in this way, one by one, the audience always showed its interest by loud applause. The books were of various sizes, and when several were given to the same student they were generally connected volumes by the same author. The matter treated in the books was generally literary or historical. I remember that I myself, when a student received a year before I finished my stay at the college, Figuier's 'Insect World," and there was hardly a book that I did nor read and study more thoroughly.

Happening to mention the fact that the books were of various sizes reminds me of what took place here in Creighton College at its Second Commencement in 1880. Major John B. Furay (the father of Edward, John, Harry, Guy, etc.) presented a Webster's unabridged dictionary to the boys that had made the most progress in reading. This was a fact difficult to decide, and as the premium went to my class I designated the best reader. I think his name was Fred Delone. His name and that of the donor, the reason of the reward, etc. were then stamped in large gold letters on the front cover of the book. And it was amid the thundering applause of the audience that the little fellow succeeded in successfully carrying his big premium off the stage.

The distribution of the books at the commencement threatened to lengthen out into an uninteresting and interminable proceeding. It was then shortened by first calling upon the stage all the recipients, and then handing to each his whole set at once with words like these, "John Smith, first in Latin, Rhetoric and Mathematics, second in Greek and English Prose Composition." While this abbreviation saved much time, it gave the audience, however, little or no chance to applaud a heavily-loaded premium carrier.

I should perhaps have mentioned that the order in which the classes received their premiums was from the highest to the lowest, and that the graduates came first. Their diplomas were the same as at present. The president of the college often read one in the Latin in which it was written, and then translated it into English. These diplomas were rolled up, and an old custom, which was observed like a law, was that the bishop should hand them to the graduates.

Now here is an incident which will interest the reader. Our graduates were always notoriously awkward and clumsy receiving their diplomas. While a few bowed gentlemanly to the bishop and then to the audience, the most of them almost tore their diplomas our of the bishop's hands, some even genuflected towards the bishop or the audience or in any other direction, and in fact seemed to show that the solemnity of the proceeding had robbed them of all self- possession. Of course, the audience was in a titter, and at times burst out in an uncontrolled applause.

While these commencements were generally held at night, it happened on the occasion of which I wish to speak that this time one was held in the morning in our present auditorium. That same afternoon the bishop, Scannell, with many of the clergy went to the commencement of Mount St. Marys, at 15th and Castelar streets. Fr. Dowling went also, and so did I. After distributing the premiums, crowns, scarfs, books, etc. the bishop rose to say a few words. His theme was that the girls were so graceful and the boys so awkward. He could not help reiterating "The girls, oh, the girls are so-graceful, and the boys, oh, the boys are so-awkward." As he had referred to the College Commencement of that morning, he began to realize that he might have given offense to Fr. Dowling, who was there listening to him. To make amends for this attack he considered it only fair to give Fr. Dowling a chance to defend his students. This was a noble motive in principle, but it proved to be disastrous in practice. Everybody, and Bishop Scannell also, was painfully aware of the fact, that he himself had no tact and was as awkward in his ways as our boys were in theirs, and that Fr. Dowling was immeasurably his superior in practically everything.

As Fr. Dowling began to speak, everybody was in high expectancy of what was going to happen. He frankly admitted that boys were awkward when compared to girls, but he said, "there is a certain grace that befits a boy and another that befits a girl. Nobody, and not even Bishop Scannell himself, I am sure, would want the boys-to be as graceful as the girls." The speech was short, masterful, tactful, and to the point.

It is of importance to state here that the custom of giving books as premiums, especially in such abundance, was very wisely never introduced into Creighton College, the only book thus given being the big dictionary mentioned before. The reason was twofold, first, it was judged unbecoming the dignity of a college, and secondly, it was a great expense. It really is astonishing how the custom still prevails in many places, and how, to avoid the possibility of offense, the poor Sisters, that conduct these institutions, manage for one reason or another to give every pupil without exception a book of some kind.

The semi-annual commencement, or exhibition as it was often called, differed from the annual one in that, first, there were no graduates, and secondly ribbons were given instead of books. These ribbons were generally about an inch wide and six inches long, of different color, and sometimes had the words first or Second Premium printed on them. I have often been told by my relatives that my big brother Joseph when a boy at college one time received so many premiums that the bishop could find no more room on his breast, but began to pin the ribbons on his back.

Besides the two public commencements or exhibitions, there was a distribution of premiums every month before the faculty and students only. Ribbons were given, and the best student in each class had a silver medal pinned on him which he was expected to return in a few days. This practice of distributing ribbons was introduced into this college in the very beginning, but I cannot determine when it ceased.