Beyond Truman. Douglas A. Dixon
made sense since he joined the faculty at BGSU in 1945 and taught the sorts of courses that would have attracted the by-then widely traveled Ferrell—“Oriental Civilizations” or “Africa and the Near East”;37 Sanderlin would publish his first book in 1946, and this gave him the expertise and scholarly approach that no doubt inspired his protégé. According to various campus newspaper reports in the Bee Gee News, Sanderlin was a constant social presence around campus too, whether at dances, debates, or volleyball matches. Ferrell played organ at campus concerts, and the two likely grew close both academically and through informal events. The returning student finished his Music Education degree by the spring semester. Robert Ferrell’s note to Robert Gallagher suggested Ferrell’s preparation continued beyond music education, and perhaps the full academic record would shed more light, if obtainable.38
Two sources pointed to potential saving graces for Ferrell’s acceptance to Yale, though hardly watertight justifications, given other evidence. Following graduation from Bowling Green State, the war veteran sat for the Graduate Record Exam (GRE) at his alma mater.39 Overall scores were not stellar. In the hard sciences—mathematics, physics, chemistry—the scores came in below average. His verbal skills and literature background did little more to recommend him. Yet importantly to the Yale History Department, Ferrell found himself toward the top few percentiles in history and social studies. Ernest Sr. later pontificated that this must have been the reason his son found his way to Yale, noting, “with the discharge of so many soldiers in 1945–1946 seeking higher degrees, colleges were filled, but he took an examination and on the basis of this test was, much to his surprise, admitted to Yale.”40 Ferrell himself explained, perhaps in gest, that his acceptance was merely on the basis that the department “needed someone West of the Hudson . . . and I was the person.”41 There was no mention of other factors by Ernest Sr. or his son, for or against, that colored the pathway, as the record eventually displayed.
The evidence reviewed to this point hardly made the case for how this young Midwest-rooted former enlisted soldier came to Yale, or rather, was invited. At least several extant BGSU grade cards demonstrate a less-than-exceptional student, Bs primarily with the exception of As in music. An exam blue book comment was decidedly below average. His music degree did not include evidence that history was a pursuit. Above average marks at a lesser school, Bowling Green State, would not be an Ivy League launching pad. While the GRE scores also did not mark him as exceptional, except of course for those top scores in the target area, they would not predict competitive status. There were, nevertheless, signs that Ferrell had attended to history courses beyond those that received poor marks. No records of these were available at this point, but it was an opening to pursue. Military correspondence suggested history was only one of several possible career avenues and one he did not consistently rate highly. Years later, Ferrell shared that cycling trips to Egyptian pyramids during service drew him to history, but the war letters on career choice do not make the case.
Several points may have counted in applicant Ferrell’s favor at Yale, aside from the GRE scores. Young Bob had two Yale-connected family members, both highly respected surgeons in New Haven, who no doubt may have leveraged their weight in his favor. Certainly Uncle Burt paved the way for Ernest Jr. (June), Bob’s younger brother, to intern then gain residency at Grace Hospital, later a Yale Medical teaching facility.42 The elder son also came to Yale and New Haven at his Uncle Burt’s invitation as the Indiana historian later recounted.43 Young Bob also enjoyed other pursuits in high school and college that may have supported his application. He participated in numerous extracurricular activities, achieving the rank of Eagle Scout, excelling at music (and teaching others those skills), swimming competitively, and performing journalist duties. It is possible too that an essay that gained national recognition from The American Magazine’s Youth Forum contest added the extra feather needed to tilt the scale with Yale admissions committee members.44 The award fell somewhere outside the top group, gaining Ferrell five dollars, whereas the top winners earned $1,000 (grand prize), $500 (second place), $100 (third place), $50 (15 winners), and $10 (50 winners). Hundreds of winners received $5. Nevertheless, the award was significant if one considers the 317,161 article entries across the country.45 Young Bob’s 2,000 or so words addressed a topic that might have gained the attention of patriots on Yale’s faculty in the early post–world war period—“What I owe America and What America Owes Me.” Hilda Scott, a fellow competitor from Hickman Springs High in Columbia, Missouri, won the Grand Prize, perhaps producing some irritation given Ferrell’s views toward women.46
Again, considering the times, not so long beyond the victorious troops returning from Europe, Ferrell’s war service certainly may have contributed to gaining admission. Contrarily, neither a war hero nor combatant, he might have encountered an uphill climb against many returning combat soldiers competing for a spot as Ernest Sr. relayed. Indeed, the veteran staff sergeant admitted how safe he was during his assignment while “at war” in correspondence.47 Yet, Ferrell had gone from private to staff sergeant in less than a year outside of the rigors of warfare. As a competent organist and pianist, he played for military-run religious services and at informal celebrations. Officially a chaplain’s clerk, he ingratiated himself with superiors by performing a variety of official and unofficial duties, and in appreciation, these earned him opportunities to travel extensively on generous weekends during the war, gaining a breath of international experience that fit well with scholarly interests of Samuel Flagg Bemis, his eventual mentor at Yale. End-of-war recognition came in the form of a “Bronze Star Medal for non-combatants” that he could list on the Yale application.48
Higher education historians have described the context and criteria of college admissions during the late 1940s. Elite schools such as Yale were relying less on subject matter mastery (as demonstrated in high school coursework) and more on intelligence testing.49 Granted this was for undergraduate admissions, but researchers at the time noted that “statistical studies showed that general verbal and mathematical ability predicted college grades better than did achievement tests in particular subject matter.”50 In this context, Ferrell’s mediocre mathematics and verbal GRE scores would not have proven useful. Post–Second-World-War students also demonstrated a higher level of competence thus raising the level of competition against returning veterans. Even more, some in the academic community at Ivy League schools were complaining that their admissions committees were placing too much emphasis on academic criteria and too little on the attributes that contributed to a well-rounded student; not until the late 1950s, however, would other factors such as geographic balance or extracurricular activities be advantageous. This, again, discounts what might be thought as part of Ferrell’s admission advantages.51 Another factor, legacy admissions, trended upward through the first half of the twentieth century at elite institutions for a variety of reasons (e.g., excluding minorities, say Catholics or Jews, or bolstering needed alumni contributions, especially sagging since the Great Depression; Ferrell’s use of the GI Bill may have added to his attractiveness in this latter point).52 David O. Levine, an historian, found that these schools even invited alumni to participate in admission decisions, serving “to give legacy applicants an added advantage . . . ensuring the admission of their own children and those of others with whom they closely identified.”53
One can speculate on the path that cleared Robert Ferrell’s way to Yale, including at least two narratives, WASP-advantaged, alumni-connected insider (e.g., Uncle Burt Rentsch) or multitalented, late-to-history, war veteran bloomer.54 It is important not to discount other factors that may have played into either hypothesis directly: the background (and possible empathy) of Ferrell’s second-year mentor, Bemis, who came from a rural farming community in western Massachusetts similar to this applicant or Ivy League officials pushing to broaden the representation of Midwesterners.55 Bob had an endearing personality too, which no doubt contributed to graduate school recommendations or any interviews with Yale officials that may have taken place. A telling document, Ferrell’s second degree (completed in a year) at Bowling Green State University, listed all “A’s” in history and political science, and this during his return from service. These marks no doubt reaffirmed his purposefulness, if not level of academic rigor or equivalent excellence to east coast elite schools. Once accepted in New Haven, those less-than-exceptional GRE scores, aside from history