locked in its great stone walls, and jacks supporting its foundations,
was slated to become the administrative center of the Institute.
The old landmarks were not unappreciated. After a recent
Techni-Forum tour of the campus an out-of-town guest took his
coffee break in the basement of Salisbury, where he was surrounded
by water pipes and exposed beams. Nearby was Tech's
one remaining hydraulic elevator. In an adjoining chemistry
laboratory he had seen the hundred-year-old Norton jugs so
unmistakably linked with the history of the school. "This building
impresses me the most," said the guest. "This is where I soak
up the traditions."
The new eight-acre area, part of it named the A. J. Knight
Field, was still in the process of being developed and so far
provided nothing much more than a bigger beat for Nils Hagberg, the
chief of police. Nils, according to the Tech News, "acts like
W. C. Fields, walks like Khrushchev, reminds you of Kris Kringle,
and smiles nothing like the Mona Lisa."
It was Tony, Anthony Joseph Ruksnaitis, Director of Tech's
Physical Plant since 1956, who was responsible for the exceptional
appearance of buildings and campus. It was also he who
developed such a pride in stewardship of property that on Boynton
Hill there were no status lines between professors and maintenance
men.
Everyone on the Hill and in the community was annoyed at
Nature's affront when Tony Ruksnaitis reported that sixty-two
elms, most of them class trees, were doomed to come down on
Tech's campus. (The Hill began to look as it did a hundred years
before, when John Hurley and his gang had cut down all the
trees to make room for Boynton Hall.) Then Herman Schaefer
came along to make the campus more beautiful than ever.
With here a boulder for character, here a cluster of daffodils for
color, and there a clump of mountain laurel for native rightness,
he created his own landscape pictures. Hermie had a way with
growing things much akin to that of the professors in the
classrooms. "Let them be natural"--you'd swear he was talking about
students--"Give them room to breathe. Don't let them get too
comfortable. Keep scratching up the soil around their roots."
By 1965 Worcester Tech's endowment had reached a market
value of seventeen and a half million, closely matching its property
value. Its yearly budget had grown from the $5450 alloted to
President Thompson to run the Institute in its first year to four
and a half million in 1965. The Alumni Association had always
rated high in proportionate giving; funds and foundations had
been liberal, as had individuals and corporations. The gifts of
George I. Alden, George C. Gordon, Forrest Taylor, the Higgins,
Daniels, Duckworth, Morgan, Stoddard, and Harrington families
had eclipsed them all in amount, but there had been many smaller
gifts to match them in generosity and loyalty.
The Institute's original intention had been to charge no tuition,