Ellie and Wilmott "Rags" Ragsdale had been living in Washington, D.C., London, and New York City for most of their marriage while Rags was a correspondent for Time-Life. His tenure-track job at Grinnell College in Iowa in 1953 caused some culture shock.
Dear Rosa and Murray:
Who ever said teaching was a life of leisure? Let me have at
him! Only the thought that sometime Christmas holidays will come sustains us --
And I mean us -- since I’m recruited to cope with the periodic and far too
frequent innundations of Freshman Basic Communications themes that pour in by
forties—I also pick out bright biographical bits for Rags to interlard in this
American Lit dissertations. But even so it’s three in the morning and still at
work—with eight o’clocks three days a week to struggle up for.
Sounds terrible! But all is not black here at Grinnell—and as Rags realizes, he’s got to pay a year in blood, sweat, etc. for having
pulled off the neat trick of having lept from part-time instructor at the New
School to Associate Prof. of English-Journalism at Grinnell--which does have a
good reputation among small colleges and pays very well. When he looks about
him and sees guys who have ground up for 15 years (PhD and all) (Grant Redford) and are still Assist. Profs, who is he to gripe at groggy eyes and harassed
brainwaves for a year.
The whole thing came about in such a flash in mid-August,
that we’ve been rushing ever since--and have only counted on your hearing the
news by the inevitable grapevine (maybe Howard Lewis who dropped in for our
farewell drinking party amid packing cases and 100 degree heat, or the indirect
report of Mintons to Dinny to Morgans etc) to put you onto our Big Move. Now
I’ve no theses till tomorrow’s new batch, and Rags is a couple of days ahead in
Am Lit -- So here is the letter I’ve been mentally writing for a couple of
months! …
My gloomy academically swamped mind is only too apparent in
the perspective -- or lack thereof -- of this black letter.
But it must not prevent my giving your other sides of the
picture, dimly though I see them at the moment.
 |
| Dancing in Mexico in more leisurely times |
Though the Middle West is of all parts of the country the
one we’d least longed to live in, we’ve successfully rationalized that one--by
the usual justifications: see Heart of America, feel Republican pulse, probe
mind of farm and Bible belt, and so forth. In fact, although Grinnell students
come from all over the place, and from Iowa hardly at all, the MidWest
generally is predominant as point of origin--that the Republican-Bible Belt
spell is everywhere apparent. The school is no longer denominational
(Congregational) but old Josiah B. Grinnell (to whom Horace Greeley said "Go
West young man," thereby setting him on his way hither) left quite an
imprint of religion about the place. All three philosophy profs and the
President Sam Stevens himself, are ED’s. And judging by the tenor of the BC
themes and reports of the discussions on Puritanism, Calvinism, etc., in A Lit,
the skeptics and atheists, though vocal as usual, are scarce. …
There are a few more sophisticated types from the Chicago area
-- and quite a sprinkling from Minneapolis, St. Louis -- and New York environs.
But on the whole it’s a rather wholesome, naïve, clean-living bunch. (Three
just kicked out and two suspended for drinking on campus – two suspended for
breaking the car-on-campus rule.]
But the small town aspect is one of the best things for
us--or at least for Noel and Dana--for the present. We’ve a nice big half-house
on wide elm-shaded street. Dozens of nice kids all around for them to play
with. College stables provide cheap riding, and Faculty Kids Club gives weekly
swimming, tumbling, target practice, hiking, etc., free for some 50 between
ages of 7 and 14. Schools crowded and the reactionaries just resoundingly voted
down a new school bond issue. In fact the town couldn’t give us a better
caricature (almost) of conservative, narrow midwesternism (It’s really a dilly
and stands out as such among all other Iowa towns, I’m told, for various
reasons, economic, historic, and political). Considerable town-gown cleavage
results, as you can imagine, but this makes things quite lively--especially for
the club-minded women (and which of them is not -- God!)
We could go into the Faculty-Administration cleavage--But
it’s the usual long story, full of dirty work and cliques--how long we can stay
out of it, none can tell. It’s fairly entertaining whilst we’re out, but I can
see it isn’t a bit so for those within.
Rags’ one indulgence has been pheasant and rabbit hunting.
It is fine -- during these days of apparently endless Indian Summer -- to tramp
among the crackling harvested corn fields and nearly dry creek beds. Our
beagle, Luke, finds more dead hogs than game, but he looks right, silhouetted
against the red west, or with his white tail flourishing above the dry alfalfa.
So far only bagged one rabbit but it was delicious, and the girls are tanning his
fur (apologies, Rosa)
Still there’s a temporary feeling about the whole deal -- and
we’re glad we’ve only sublet our N.Y. apartment. We doubt that this is IT. Rags’ contract is for two years -- and then who knows…
When he gets in the groove he may feel more relaxed and
settled, but we can’t see it yet. Rags says to tell you he now sees the joke is
on him -- Remember when he used to chide you for taking such pains over your
grades, papers, students’ whims and problems? HaHaHa.
BUT I must to bed -- My two “club” activities so far are League of
Women Voter and Bluebird leader -- and both of them happen to come up tomorrow. It’s
a new life for me, I’ll say -- I’m just dying of morning “coffees” which the
housewives go in for.
However, I just toss my clothes into our second hand
automatic Laundromat, and dash off for a chat with the “girls” about School
bonds, tsch-tsch -- Community Chest drive, PTA meetings, etc. ENOUGH.
So much love to you both -- We both still love you though you
may think we don’t show it. Tell us ALL soon.
Ellie
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