Orange Coast College

From Student to Teacher
Back to Main

by DEAN BURCHETT,
student in first OCC class; staff member from 1950 to 1956; faculty member since 1956.

SEPTEMBER, 1948. After a long ride I stepped off the Greyhound bus on Newport Boulevard, roughly one-half mile east of the Orange Coast College campus. It was just at sunset. Tumbleweeds were blowing across the deserted former Army Air Base that lay ahead. Considering the lateness of the hour, my lack of certainty about the location of Orange Coast College and my certain lack of funds—I had barely $3.00 in my pocket—I knew I had to make an immediate decision.

Elwood Spencer, former agriculture teacher and wrestling coach at Central Union High School in E1 Centro, California, had accepted a similar position at Orange Coast College in Costa Mesa. As teachers, especially coaches, are wont to do, Mr. Spencer had set about encouraging some of his former pupils to continue their education at this new two-year community college. Encouraged by some of my high school buddies I had agreed to meet them at the campus for a firsthand observation of what this brand new institution had to offer.

I crawled through a makeshift combination wood and wire fence and started doubtfully across the blacktop "grinder" now penetrated here and there by weeds. This hesitant advance was made more uncertain by grim looking signs warning trespassers to KEEP OUT.

Among the first evidences of recent human activity that I came across was a freshly sawed post that had originally served to prevent highway vehicles from contacting a fire hydrant. There it stood with several inches sawed off at the top. I was to learn a few days later that one of my old classmates had played a very emphatic part in this phenomenon. He had been driving one of the school's Crown busses in the deserted area to practice for his driving test when the bus and this post made contact. Unfortunately the post didn't break but lodged underneath the bus. This necessitated the driver's making the same long walk that I was now engaged in. But he was going after a saw and knew where to get it. I had nothing so definite in mind. I had no means of knowing that, beginning the next day, those busses and I would be very closely associated for at least the next 16 years.

About one-half hour and several jack rabbits later I found the college administration building. Dr. Bill Priest, head of the evening college, was just preparing to lock up for the evening. Together we surveyed a large map of the campus area, locating what we supposed to be the Spencer building. I set out again. After walking east for some distance l angled south and crossed what appeared to be several old roadways. Dotted here and there in some kind of order were a number of trees. Mr. William F. Kimes later told me that these were the remains the old town of Fairview. The following summer I was to spend considerable time dynamiting, bulldozing and in general destroying this historic old site. Continuing my walk, I finally ended up at a group of old kennels where army dogs had been housed. The Spencer residence must be elsewhere. I retraced my steps to a point where I might have gone wrong.

Scanning the darkening campus I saw buildings some distance to the north. Then I made out a light and headed in that direction. In a few moments I was in the Spencer home laughing, joking and making light of my recent misadventures.

During the next few weeks the fetal characteristics of this new educational institution manifested evidences of life and growth; students registering, faculty members preparing for classes, administrators guiding the whole process and maintenance men hurrying here and there in last minute preparations. Caught up in the vitality and vigor of this emergent enterprise I found myself registered for classes, licensed as a school bus driver, and a student employee of the agricultural department school farm. l do not recall deciding to become a student at Orange Coast College, but was propelled along by a shared enthusiasm. I see it now as one of the most momentous decisions of my life.

Through the next few months everyone associated with Orange Coast College spent laborious hours creating the "academic climate." It was my privilege as an impressionable young man to sit under the tutelage of such men as Mr. Vernon Patterson in English, Dr. Giles Brown in History, Mr. Donald Bridgman (now Dr. Bridgman) in Psychology, Mr. "Cy" Rockey in Math and Welding, Mr. Richard Barrett and Mr. Wesley Mole in Agriculture, Mr. Robert Kest in Speech, Mr. James Pitton in Chemistry, Mr. Hueston Harper in Life Science, Mr. Miles Eaton in Economics, Coach Wendell Pickens in Physical Education and Wrestling, Mr. Elwood Spencer in Agriculture and Wrestling, and Mr. Dudley Boyce in Business Law. A few years later Mr. Boyce (now Dr. Boyce) was to prove most helpful in both encouraging and guiding me in my decision to become a teacher. I am certain that a more extensive search of my memory and the records would lengthen this list to include virtually all of my teachers at "Coast," for it is my sincere conviction that the instruction I received there was equal to, and in many cases surpassed that which I received at any other institution at any level up through the Master's Degree.

As impossible as it may seem now, in the Fall of 1948 Orange Coast College provided dormitories for men, one for women, and apartments for married students on campus. I have vivid memories of being chased by dogs while servicing the oil stoves and hauling trash from these residences. At that time there were a great number of more mature fellows attending college who had served in the military and now were taking advantage of the G.I. Bill. I shall never forget how the noise would echo from the shower room when one short husky Irishman would indulge in a vocalized shower. Actually this young fellow was a good singer—anywhere but in the shower. He went on to do very well by himself; eventually graduating from Gonzaga University in Washington, he later obtained a Master's Degree from California State College at Long Beach and has for some time now assisted with football and coached our wrestling team. Yes, Fred Owens

During the Spring of that first year, Mr. Spencer worked up a weekend field trip to that progressive agricultural area, Imperial Valley (acre for acre the most productive region in the world). Several of the local high school agriculture departments joined with us, some providing their own transportation, and some riding in the Orange Coast bus. Unfortunately, Mr. Spencer had broken his leg while moving some sheet aluminum in one of the warehouses and was unable to share the experiences of that stimulating trip. Mr. Richard Barrett, who was teaching at Orange High School at that time, took charge. Aside from the incidental bus-sickness of a couple of the fellows the trip proved to be an extremely worthwhile educational venture. It demonstrated the progressive attitude of the administration and faculty of Orange Coast College. Incidentally, the substitute teacher on this trip (Mr. Richard Barrett) turned out to be at least semi-permanent in that he came to Coast full time the following Fall and is still teaching the animal husbandry and agronomy classes. Another man who made that trip with us was the agriculture teacher at Newport Harbor High School, Mr. Elgin Hall. He very dutifully went the full route, even to the point of sleeping in the Central Union High School gymnasium with the students. Here again, a lasting relationship was developed, for in 1954 Mr. Hall came to Coast, was appointed Chairman of the Division of Agriculture in 1956, and is still serving in that capacity.

The unique situation of the Spencer family's living on campus contributed to many pleasurable experiences for those of us who had followed Elwood Spencer from Imperial Valley. Like the head of the house Mrs. Spencer and the children were very warm, friendly people. On one occasion the family was prepared to go out, and Richard, then a youngster of about seven, had dressed up and was outside pestering me while waiting for the family. I stood it for a while, then picked him up by one leg and one arm and holding him over a mud puddle, threatened to drop him if he didn't behave. He looked at the puddle and kicked. This made me lose my hold and down he went into the mud. I felt like fleeing, but heroically walked him to the door. My attempted explanation brought a memorable reply from Mrs. Spencer: "I don't know whether to whip him or you." Fond memories!

In the Spring of 1949, Mr. Spencer announced that he had accepted an assignment under President Truman's Point-Four Program to go to Guatemala as an Agricultural Advisor and Teacher. His many friends were disappointed that he was leaving, but were pleased that he had found new and more challenging outlets for his talents.

In the absence of a teacher in the agriculture department at the end of the academic year, Mr. Kimes called me into his office and offered me the opportunity to head up the summer activities on the school farm. Dale Middleton, one of the E1 Centro boys, and I spent the summer bulldozing, dynamiting, repairing and in general putting the school farm in order.

Mr. Bill Payne, who is still one of our art teachers, at that time had some kind of mine that he operated up in one of the canyons. By virtue of his mining experience we requested his help with the dynamite work. He responded in a very efficient manner and it can truthfully be said that things went off with a "bang." Many of the larger eucalyptus trees that would not budge for the small bulldozer we had were most cooperative after the application of a few sticks of dynamite.

One afternoon while bulldozing trees approximately 200 yards south of the bus barn, I eased up against one tree that, to my dismay, toppled right over. I wasn't long in finding why, for immediately hundreds of bees came swarming out directly at me. I released the hand clutch and leaped off the tractor and headed for the bus barn in a dead run. In spite of the fact that I left in such a hurry that I failed to slow the throttle down on the tractor, three of the bees caught me and stung me on the neck. That evening, armed with the necessary protective clothing, unquestioned bravery, and some cyanide gas, Mr. Kimes very decisively brought the bee problem under control.

As the 1948-49 year drew to a close there were two developments that provided encouragement for me to return for another year of college. During the student government elections I had been elected Commissioner of Cooperatives for the following year, and, by a stroke of luck (I'm sure Mrs. Marie Howes had something to do with this), I was the recipient of the first Jennie S. Crutcher Foundation Scholarship for $100.00 awarded annually to a freshman student returning to Coast. These factors in addition to the pleasurable memories and academic stimulation of my first year of college were more than sufficient to entice me back for the completion of the Associate in Arts degree.

Starting the first year Orange Coast managed to field a strong wrestling team. Aided by a nucleus of fellows from E1 Centro, some of whom were former C.I.F. High School Champions, both Mr. Spencer and Mr. Pickens were able to put together a tear strong enough to win the Eastern Conference Championship in 1949 and 1950. Probably the outstanding wrestler on this team was an old elementary school, high school, and college classmate of mine, Carroll Middleton. This young man was a two-time Eastern Conference Champion, undefeated in two years of dual meet competition.

In June, 1950 my collegiate experience at Coast appeared over. Graduation ceremonies were set and all 160 of the graduates filed past the podium in the old auditorium to receive their degrees. As I approached Dr. Peterson, whose custom was always to shake every graduate's hand, he shook mine and said, "We are going to miss you, Dean." Neither he nor I expected that I would be a full-time employee of Orange Coast College in approximately seven weeks.

One week-end in early August of 1950 I had returned to Orange County to see my girl. While here I stopped by the campus to see if I had any mail. At just the right moment Mr. Kimes walked out of his office, saw me and said to Mr. Fran Albers who was with him, "Here is a fellow that will go to work for us." I half jokingly replied that I sure would because it was hot in Imperial Valley (110 degrees in the shade, and no shade). On my birthday, August 17, 1950 I assumed responsibility for the maintenance of the school's new technology building. The salary at that time was a staggering $190.00 per month plus $20.00 a month cost of living raise. Of course I was satisfied with this wage or I would not have gone to work.

In late November of 1950 Chet Gridley, O.C.C.'s transportation supervisor, resigned. As a student, and as an employee it had been my privilege to work very closely with Chet, repairing and operating the busses. He is an especially well-qualified mechanic and I had learned a great deal from him. Hoping desperately but doubtful, I applied for the job. How often Dr. Paterson and Mr. Kimes have demonstrated their confidence in young people who were willing to prove themselves. My case was no exception. On December 15, 1950, I was appointed Transportation Supervisor. This was a real break. Fourteen years later I still look upon that appointment gratefully as a mark of trust in me by two men whom I esteem very highly. But the new job brought its problems.

During the football season of 1951 an agreement was made whereby Orange Coast would travel to Klamath Falls, Oregon to play Oregon Tech. As transportation supervisor it fell my lot to drive the bus on this long trek. Leaving very early one morning we traveled to San Jose, spent the night there, then traveled the rest of the way next day. While wheeling down Golden Gate Boulevard as fast as the law allowed, I was thrust suddenly into a chain of circumstances that brought on my most harrowing experience as a school bus driver. Traveling on the inside lane I was proceeding past two cars when suddenly and without warning the rear car pulled into my lane to turn left into the Tanforan Race Track. I at once activated the airbrakes, realizing that it might be impossible to avoid a severe collision. But a glance at the outside lane in my rear view mirror showed me it was clear and I cut sharply into it, missing the right rear of the offending vehicle by inches. As we whizzed by on the right side of the offender, John Owens, who was aboard as the faculty advisor at the time, rolled down his window and said something emphatic to the driver that I was fortunately under too much strain and pressure to catch in its eloquent entirety.

The game with Oregon Tech proved to be both frustrating and stimulating. As a spotter in the announcing booth, I was pitted against two sidelined Oregon Tech players. Playing on a muddy field, everything went wrong for us the first half and we were being wiped out. From the starting whistle these two boys made it their business to keep me appraised of this fact. Well, the game was not over yet. After an unimpressive third quarter our team began to improve. Part way through the fourth quarter we really came alive. Switching to a short punt formation with Howard Miller at the tailback slot, the team successfully swept one end and then the other, picking up 12-15 yards at a time. When the final gun sounded the scoreboard read: Oregon Tech 20, Orange Coast 25. I assure you that l kept my erstwhile antagonists appraised of these developments on a play by play basis. I believe they would have assaulted me physically had it not been for their injuries. (That is why they were side-lined). In excitement and come-from-behind effort this was a spectacular accomplishment for Ray Rosso's team.

Another incident concerns a select group of five of our top administrators (not Dr. Peterson) and a trip they took to San Bernardino one rainy day. All of these gentlemen were well-educated academics clear through the successful quest of doctors' degrees. On their return late at night the school car they were driving failed just south of the town of Orange. Dr. Thornton later related the story of their reaction to this disturbing inconvenience. It seems that as the car rolled to a stop, one of the men asked the reasonable question, "What do we do now?" to which Dr. Thornton unhesitatingly replied, "Get out and raise the hood." This the others agreed should be done. After completing the not too difficult task, they turned to their advisor for further counsel. Contemplating the situation, Dr. Thornton finally admitted that he wasn't sure just what they should do next but he was confident they had done the right thing so far. All unanimously concluded that the next step would be to call the transportation department—in this case, me—and request help. I arrived, and amid much laughter and perhaps some exaggerations in embroidering the story, we all got safely back on campus.

In June of 1951 I married the girl who had been partially responsible for my return to Orange County. A few years later we moved into one of the dwellings on campus and undertook the task of meeting the transportation needs of the college. As time passed it became more and more clear to me that I needed additional formal education. And here I would like to inject just a bit of personal philosophy. It has been my experience that success is not in the attainment of a specific goal, but in the effort to reach it. I sincerely believe that man travels from want to want and the success is in the journey. This belief was a primary motivation in my quest for further training. As a result of my failure to anticipate returning to school I found myself woefully short of necessary transfer courses. Selecting needed courses on the basis of convenience at Orange Coast and Santa Ana colleges' evening offerings, I started once again the long, rigorous climb up the academic ladder. Thus I completed the California State College lower division requirements, at the same time securing an Associate in Arts degree from Santa Ana College. On numerous occasions being an alumnus of two rival institutions has proven to be a matter of no small convenience.

In the Spring of 1956 I happened to mention to Dr. Peterson that I was eligible for a teaching credential. Within a matter of weeks Dr. Peterson again demonstrated his confidence in youth and the Orange Coast College product by offering me a contract to teach agricultural mechanics and continue, on a limited basis, the supervision of the transportation department. Ray Jones was appointed equipment mechanic to handle the remaining duties of transportation. My assignment was later broadened to include the responsibility of coaching the wrestling team. Because of a lack of local high school participation in this, the oldest of all sports, it was now in a state of dormancy at O.C.C.

Over the next few years, I took courses at U.C.L.A. and California State College at Long Beach on a part-time basis. My education was thus more diversified than Mr. William Kimes was aware of when he said that I am probably the only junior college teacher in the State who successfully completed five years of college training without ever "leaving the junior college campus." Actually I did leave the campus several hundred times, and via the shortest, most direct route it is precisely 105 miles from Orange Coast College to U.C.L.A. and return. For some time that little jaunt was a daily exercise of mine.

After one year of teaching agriculture in an old converted army building, a new agriculture facility was completed and occupied in the Fall of 1957. In my teaching I have had reason to be grateful for the help and encouragement of Mr. Elgin Hall, chairman of the division, Mr. Richard Barrett, colleague and fellow teacher, and Mr. Fred Oelkers, farm operator. Over the past few years this part of the college program has enjoyed a steady expansion.

It has been my pleasure both as student and faculty member to participate in the extracurricular club activities that Orange Coast College has sponsored over the years. As a charter member of the Orange Coast Chapter of the California Young Farmers, I endured and designed some hectic initiation experiences before hazing was banned. As a faculty sponsor of the College "Y" it became necessary for me to take my family, now consisting of a wife, three daughters and a son, on a five-day 750 mile trip to Asilomar on one occasion. Mrs. Martha Buss, our school nurse and long time friend, and her husband accompanied us on that memorable trip. It proved to be a most stimulating experience. Mrs. Buss deserves a great deal of credit for successfully building the College "Y" into one of the enduringly strong clubs on campus. Mrs. Howes deserves equal recognition for her untiring efforts on behalf of all the many clubs on campus.

As wrestling coach I encountered numerous obstacles and hindrances to the successful development of our program. We started by making arrangements to put on exhibitions at local service clubs and high schools. This brought me opportunities to speak to such groups as the Junior Chamber of Commerce on the merits of amateur wrestling. In December, 1958 we established a date and hosted the first of a series of annual high school invitational tournaments. Over the next few years wrestling began to "catch on" in Orange County. Soon the majority of the high schools and all the junior colleges in Orange County were fielding competitive varsity wrestling teams. To illustrate, in 1964 Orange County wrestling reached a high point when Westminster High School's wrestling team, coached by Ken Duddridge, tied for second place in the C.I.F. Tournament. It now became necessary for me to have professional guidance and encouragement in my coaching assignment. This help came from Coach Wendell Pickens. I had many memorable experiences with "Pick" as an athlete. On one occasion near the climax of the Eastern Conference Tournament, my last year of competition in 1950, I was matched against the team captain from Fullerton, undefeated to that point. He had been an outstanding football player and wrestler in Ohio and had come out here to compete when regulations were not so stringent in residence eligibility. This extremely competitive individual had set off a near riot a few months earlier during the annual Fullerton-Santa Ana Thanksgiving Day football garlic. He had come out of the game for a breather when a Santa Ana player intercepted a flat pass and headed down the sideline for six. Unable to contain himself, this Ohioan, to the amazement of everyone, leaped off the bench and tackled the unsuspecting Santa Ana player, injuring his knee. As if the prospect of wrestling a man with this background wasn't bad enough, Fullerton had jockied the weights of their men around so as to bring him and me together with the ultimate outcome of the Eastern Conference Team Championship at stake. "Pick" called me aside before I stepped on the mat and talked confidently of how sure he was that I could win. He almost had me convinced when very solemnly, he declared he would bet all his money on me. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a dime. I have learned to appreciate "Pick" a great deal. He is the kind of a man I would choose for my own son to compete under.

My experience of progressing from student to teacher at Orange Coast has not been unique. Several former students have joined the Orange Coast College family in one capacity or another. Just recently, former student and now practicing attorney Robert L. Humphreys, was elected to serve on the Board of Trustees. Twelve former students are now serving as faculty members. As one of them I have enjoyed this opportunity of telling my story. It has been exciting to pull out my old yearbooks and thus renew acquaintances with old friends there.

In my professional experience I am conscious that my teaching reflects ideals and attitudes gleaned from an intimate association with Orange Coast College. I can see how decisively the personal and professional philosophy of Dr. Basil H. Peterson has permeated this institution. Thousands of young people, after passing through these halls, have gone on to make their mark in life reflecting to some extent, the unique character of Orange Coast College.

During recent months things have been happening fast at Orange Coast. Chief among these developments was the resignation of Dr. Peterson as President and District Superintendent. When he announced his resignation, my thoughts went back to the time when President Eisenhower was recovering from his heart attack. After being questioned time and again by reporters about his plans regarding the coming election, President Eisenhower finally made clear that if he didn't run someone else would and the country would go right on. Such has been the case at Orange Coast College. Many of us who had known and respected Dr. Peterson for so long were sincerely concerned about the void his absence would create. Certainly, a man of his stature, character, and ability is and will be missed. However, Orange Coast College is going on. Dr. Peterson would have it no other way. Two fine, well qualified men will be at the helm. Enrollment is up. Morale and enthusiasm are high among faculty and student body. Surely, Orange Coast College is destined to maintain and enlarge her recognized role of leadership among the community colleges of our nation.

Next Chapter