Reflections on Menno-Pause

This post accompanies The 50th Anniversary of Menno-Pause, and includes reflections by Lowell Miller, Tom Harley, Verlin Miller and Sue Clemmer Steiner.

Lowell Miller

Fifty Years Later

There once were five guys at GC
Who wrote what they wanted to see
They tried a new style
But just a short while
And the Pres put them all out to sea.

We went separate ways
For most of our days
After what we did write
Was considered a blight
And an insult to Mennonite ways

It’s been fifty years
Since we left GC in tears
We’ve lived normal lives
With children and wives
Have wrestled and overcome fears.

We still like to think
Some with paper and ink
Some by fishing
Some by wishing
And look for a good way to link.

— Lowell Miller, September 2017


Tom Harley

I am now 71 going on 102.  I was then 21 going on 14.

My memory is notoriously unreliable. But if I remember correctly, I wrote two satiric pieces for Menno-pause. One was the article about dancing. It was bitingly satiric. But it was far more ironic than it was satiric. I had never danced. I had no interest in dancing. I couldn’t dance. I wouldn’t dance. I was afraid of dancing. If Goshen College had sponsored a dance, I would have been too shy to go, too scared of women to participate, and too ashamed of my body to make it do anything even remotely akin to dancing. But hey, such is the life of a revolutionary satirist.

But I think I also wrote the “deleted words” summary. I liked it then and still do. It too is ironic. I actually got thrown out of college for deleting the word fuck 37 times. That is a remarkable feat. We had the common decency and social sensitivity to remove obscenities from our writing, and they still chucked us out. In retrospect, I wish we had left those words in. It certainly did us no good to take them out. And it was such hard work – they had been so strategically placed and artfully deployed.

Long live satire. Long live free speech. Long live gay rights. Long live progressive politics. Farewell uptight institutions and quaint Moralism. Farewell homophobia. Farewell coverings.

— Tom Harley, September 2017


Verlin Miller

Post Menno-Pause Reflections Fifty years later

This week watching the PBS Vietnam War series of Ken Burns and Lyn Novick brought back to me the angst, anger and fear during the 60’s. The impulse for Menno-Pause cannot be understood without the experience of the immediacy of a world gone crazy with violence. The Vietnam series is required viewing for anyone wanting to understand. My “coming of age” maybe began with the rude awakening of John Kennedy’s assassination, news of the civil rights movement in the South, the Vietnam war and the draft, and the broader student peace movement of the 60’s.   Our story [my story] can’t be told without folk and blues roots music, Bob Dylan, the Rolling Stones and of course Sargent Pepper. We listened to them together. I also learned to appreciate Tom’s collection of Hayden and more [having not had Mary Oyer was my loss]. And I still have memories of Pete Seeger’s “Waist deep in the big muddy and the big fool says push on” and The Smothers Brothers sarcasm.

We were five young men from rather conservative churches and sheltered cultural backgrounds exploring dissent in a time when leadership was fearful of losing control. We felt that we had been “sold a bill of goods’ –both theologically in our churches and politically/socially by our conservative cultures– which demanded fresh responses. We were not really activists like some people we knew, but felt compelled to speak somehow.

There was a kind of meanness in the suspensions, since all would immediately lose their student deferment and be subject to the draft. Any Girardian or reader of James Alison would recognize right away the dynamics involved in a large majority of Goshen College students standing and applauding President Mininger’s speech justifying the abrupt suspension. “The many righteous have to stand up to the wicked few”. We were not heroes, though in the aftermath, I think Sam and Tom’s resistance to the draft was heroic. But it was clear that for some Menno-Pause was “dangerous” and many of you reading this decided you were on “the other side”-siding with President Mininger’s call for “family values” and exclusion- standing and applauding with approval for removing and punishing the “audacity of a visible danger on campus”. I still don’t understand that need to make a stand against. It was a fearful time. Some no doubt had little idea how to respond or which side they were on.  For the editors there was a personal urgency to call for a sane world. During my years in college I read all I could of the Anabaptist history of dissent, followed John Howard Yoder and the Concern movement as they wrote and spoke.

I have been asked in more recent years if I had “survivors guilt”.  I’m sure I felt some of that, but what I remember is the devastation and anger at the loss of my closest friends. I felt deeply the pain and disruption in their lives.  I kept contact in the transition and I knew the time was volatile. I didn’t feel the college administrators were on our side and felt betrayed by the acquiescence of some professors. Today I’m grateful and highly value my time, friendship and shared hilarity with the other four editors.

As far as my own journey, I was heavily influenced by the student house church movement that began on campus and later became a part of the Mennonite “fringe” communal movement of the Atlanta Fellowship, Reba Place Fellowship and the Fellowship of Hope.

The success of Jon Stewart, John Oliver, Trevor Noah, Stephen Colbert, also the Marginal Mennonite Society and the Daily Bonnet on Facebook stem from similar impulses. I am shocked but maybe not surprised at the current absurdities of today’s political situation. Fifty years later, dissent and resistance is needed now as much as any time in our history.

— Verlin Miller September 29, 2017


Sue Clemmer Steiner

Navigating Churning Waters

There’s a spot in Indiana where the leafy maple grows;
Tis our dear and glorious Parkside where the Elkhart River flows…[1]

Thus begins the official Goshen College song. Yet in my four years as a Goshen undergrad in the late 1960’s, I ignored the Elkhart River completely. It was a mile away, over by the College Cabin and the dam, and was probably the most beautiful spot in Goshen. Yet I never once canoed on it or even got my pant legs wet from the banks.

But at Goshen College I did get my pant legs wet in another way. I steered a venerable but fragile craft through churning waters, avoiding rocks, trying not to take on too much water or capsize my little boat. The craft I steered was the college’s official student newspaper—The Goshen College Record—housed “across the tracks” in a non-descript cement block building.[2] During my stint as Record editor during the tumultuous 1967-68 school year, I claimed a voice I still own. I also began to imagine myself as a leader.

Thirteen years later I wrote in a commissioned article in the Goshen College Bulletin:[3]

To recall the late 60’s at Goshen College takes almost more energy than
I can muster. The times were heady, frantic, larger than life. It seems to me now that they must have run on sheer energy.

As editor of the Record, I had the job of analyzing the times while they happened. During that era, it seems to me, both the idealism and the disillusionment of the age impinged upon our sheltered institution—and our sheltered psyches—with a force which caught everyone off guard.

That year the war in Vietnam heated up, spreading dis-ease, threatening to keep us coming-of-age folks from the good life we thought was our due. Martin Luther King Jr. was assassinated, spurring a distressed Record reporter to write: “Today the American Dream looks like it is nothing but a gargoyled vision of another time.”[4]

And early in the year, while the Record staff was still finding its way, four male members of our “publications Brüderhof”—including photographer Sam Steiner—distributed two mimeographed issues of an underground newspaper they called Menno-Pause.[5] While I had no part in creating the content, I did unlock an office door so the guys could make page stencils. The “M-P boys” saw their irreverent little rag as “a gadfly…a watchdog…a critic…an extended student opinion board…and general all-around crap.” They assumed it would be officially ignored.

We at the Record struggled with whether and how to officially respond. We were not of one mind. After much discussion, we agreed on a staff editorial stating our hope that Menno-Pause would survive beyond its initial issues.[6] To do so, we suggested, the paper would need to get beyond “immature sarcasm” and crude language and “choose more significant subject matter.”[7] Perhaps we showed our true colours by including in that issue of the Record three photos by Sam Steiner, as well as an innocuous signed news article or column by each of the other M-P boys. Privately, we enjoyed the unscientific stats on the rise and fall of the head covering in Menno-Pause, based on photos from the college yearbook from 1953-67.

None of us foresaw the degree to which Menno-Pause could be interpreted as a political act against the institution and its value system. The suspension of the M-P boys, applauded by a large bloc of the student body at a Presidential Forum, sparked a crisis for campus opinion leaders. The applause took us completely by surprise. It hit me smack in the face. It felt thunderous and endless and directed at me too.

We had dimly realized that some students considered us Record and yearbook folks to be a “self-styled elite.” Certainly some members of our loosely-connected Brüderhof were part of campus subgroups focusing on the arts or on popular music or on left-leaning politics. We tended to inhabit the English department or one of the social sciences. And our religious expressions were less conventional than the campus norm. But we hadn’t grasped how suspect these various associations and inclinations made us to some students.

From time to time we claimed to want to know what the “silent majority” thought. Yet we were unprepared when we found out. I and other campus leaders with mildly left-wing leanings wondered if we any longer had a mandate to do our jobs. We felt like a rejected minority.

During those dark days when I felt very unsure of myself, I had two invaluable guides. John Fisher, for whom I graded freshman English essays, advised: the important thing is to stay cool until tomorrow. He informed me that I was not going to even think of resigning. We need your leadership now more than ever, he asserted.

Meanwhile a beleaguered Dan Hess, the young faculty advisor we claimed as almost one of us, called a soul-searching meeting of the Record staff. We talked about the minimum requirement for campus publications to continue—the ability to be able to discern the main body of campus opinion and to present it at face value.

Over the next days and weeks, I glimpsed a way forward. I felt determination rising within me. We’d show those students who applauded. We were going to be darn good journalists!

With Dan’s support, we set ourselves to it. We began with a double-page spread on Menno-Pause which gave due voice to all varieties of campus opinion. Our features on the meaning of Vietnam and of Martin Luther King’s death for Goshen students followed the same pattern. I’m still proud of them.

My editorials took on a tone and angle of approach I still recognize and own. My confidence grew as various people—including a few administrators—wrote notes to me in campus mail, thanking me for my editorials and expressing the opinion that we were doing good journalism.

That year at Goshen, I sorted out how to honour my own views while endeavouring to represent the whole student body, and to some degree those things important to the institution itself. Somehow I figured out how to do this while staying connected with the M-P boys and other friends who expressed little use for “the establishment.” Weekdays I studied and edited the Record. Some weekends I visited two of the M-P boys in Chicago. Less than two years later, I married one of them.

That Record year also afforded me the chance to try my wings as a staff leader, team builder and encourager. Forging a team spirit, making space for others to shine, but also knowing when my own voice needs to be clearly heard—this has always been my best leadership stance. I learned it at Goshen College, navigating a small craft called the Record during that tumultuous year.[8]

[1] “Goshen College ever singing” was adopted as Goshen’s alma mater in 1911. After falling into disuse, it has  recently enjoyed a modest revival.

[2] Previously, caged mice occupied the space as part of a psychology experiment.

[3] Sue Clemmer Steiner, “1967-68: The Way They Were” in Goshen College Bulletin, March 1981 (Vol. 66, No. 2), 4-5.

[4] Dan Kauffman, “A Nation Divided—Will There Be A Sane Answer?” in The Goshen College Record, April 12, 1968 (Vol. 69, No. 12), 4.

[5] Copies of Menno-Pause are on deposit at the Mennonite Historical Library (Goshen, IN) and at the Mennonite Archives of Ontario at Conrad Grebel University College (Waterloo, ON).

[6] We adapted a pro-M-P piece submitted by columnist Steve Kreider, reworking it with his participation.

[7] “On Campus Gadflies,” in The Goshen College Record, October 6, 1967 (Vol. 69, No. 2), 2.

[8] In spring 1968, I wrote an 11-page piece for myself and a few others, chronicling what had happened and my reactions.  It was invaluable to me as I wrote this essay.

— Sue Clemmer Steiner, extracted from Flowing with the River: Soundings from my Life and Ministry (2013; no longer in print)


If you have memories of the Menno-Pause affair at Goshen College, please share them in the comment section (“Leave a Reply” at the bottom of this blog.)

See also The 50th Anniversary of Menno-Pause, with historical review and comments by Sam Steiner See also Menno Pause Revisited by Dan Hess, first published in CMW Journal in 2009

The 50th Anniversary of Menno-Pause

Sam-Steiner-68

Sam Steiner, 1966. Maple Leaf photo

Today (September 29, 2017) marks the 50th anniversary of the first issue of Menno-Pause, an underground newspaper, at Goshen College, a Mennonite College in Indiana. It can fairly be said that my move to Canada in October 1968 as a draft dodger partially resulted from this publication, though the experience was shared with other students at Goshen College in September/October 1967. Menno-Pause was an experiment that lasted one month.

I hope regular readers of this Ontario Mennonite History blog will forgive this personal intrusion into the series. This account is primarily a re-issue of a post I made two years ago, with additional comments and photographs.

Jim-Wenger

Jim Wenger, ca. 1967

The five editors during our experiment included James S. “Jim” Wenger, a brilliant English major we all assumed would become a university professor. He was a voracious reader, a lover of ideas, as well as being a gifted pianist. Lowell Miller, a farm boy from Ohio, was another English major who enjoyed theological debate. In September 1967 Jim and Lowell roomed together at one end of Yoder Hall, the largest men’s dorm at the College.

Tom-Harley

Tom Harley, ca. 1967

Tom Harley was a political science major with an incisive wit, a love for both Joseph Haydn and the Beatles, and a passion for trout fishing. I was a political science major, a photographer, and a lover of urban blues. Some thought that I was also a faux rebel because I had been suspended from the college twice previously for illegally entering a campus building and for refusing to hand in attendance cards at thrice-weekly mandatory “convocations”/chapels. In fall 1967 Tom and I were roommates at the other end of Yoder Hall in Room 201, after Tom made a last-minute decision to live in the dorm instead of his home, which was in Goshen.

Verlin Miller, another English major with a rich curiosity for people and ideas, was a staff assistant on another floor in Yoder Hall.

Sam-and-Verlin-1965

Sam Steiner and Verlin Miller, 1965

The five editors were friends before Menno-Pause started. I had been the photographer for the Maple Leaf yearbook in 1966/67 when Jim was its editor. Tom and I were the only political science majors at the college, and had spent a lot of time with the College’s sole political science prof, Dan Leatherman. Verlin and I roomed together part of the summer of 1967 with a shared interest in blues and underground newspapers. Lowell Miller was the only editor I didn’t know before our adventure began.

Maple-Leaf

Sam & Jim with Phyllis Detweiler and Carolyn Mullet of Maple Leaf staff, Maple Leaf photo

We were all young, naive Mennonites from rural areas or small towns (except for Tom, who was just young and naive and came from a small city). We were part of a “publications Brüderhof” at the college, loosely connected to The Record (the official student newspaper), the Maple Leaf (the annual student yearbook), and Foolscap (the student literary publication). In September 1967 I was the photographer and Tom was a regular columnist for the Record, while Jim and Lowell also wrote for the Record.

Sue-Clemmer-1967

Sue Clemmer, Record editor, 1967. Maple Leaf photo

Sue Clemmer, the Record editor, was part of the Brüderhof, as was Phyllis Detweiler, the Maple Leaf editor. Jim and Lowell were both on staff for Foolscap.

Jim Wenger was the intellectual leader of our little band.  He had studied the growing phenomenon of underground newspapers in spring 1967 for the English department’s Communication and Society course. In this course he analyzed the East Village Other, a New York City alternative publication. He was a convinced adherent of the free speech movement, and wished for a living example at Goshen College. He also wanted to shake his “egghead” academic reputation because he had a near 4.0 grade average, except for lower marks in Physical Education (which sometimes earned him the nickname of “Volleyball”).

339px-Port-huron-statementJim and I, and possibly a few other Goshen students, were also adherents of the New Left movement through individual memberships in the Students for a Democratic Society (SDS). SDS’s philosophy was articulated in its Port Huron statement. It emphasized the buzzword “participatory democracy” (which stated students should truly participate in shaping their own education). SDS was extremely appealing to students restive about a college that they believed listened to its conservative Mennonite “constituency” more than it did to its students.

The summer of 1967 Verlin and I saw a modest underground newspaper published by two Mennonite Voluntary Service workers who lived in the south side of Chicago, Steve Stucky and Mark Wagler. We mused about the possibilities at the college, and took inspiration from their work.

Doug_Swartzentruber

Doug Swartzentruber, 1968. Maple Leaf photo

Bill-Horrisberger

Bill Horrisberger, 1968. Maple Leaf photo

In early September the five of us began to plan, mostly in Yoder 201, often against the backdrop of “Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band.” By September 10 we were serious about producing an underground paper. Tom came up with the name of the paper. We co-opted others to help. They included Carol Beechy (for a women’s perspective column), Doug Swartzendruber (designed the cover), Eric Yoder, and Bill Horrisberger.  We delegated Jim and Lowell to give Record editor Sue Clemmer a “head’s up” that our alternative publication was coming.

Cover of Menno-Pause, issue one.

Menno-Pause, issues 1 & 2. Click on the image to download a pdf copy. My apologies for the poor quality of issue #1

Since our work on the paper was an open secret, four of us decided to sign the masthead of Menno-Pause issue #1. We encouraged Verlin to leave his name off the masthead, since he had an official role that might be jeopardized by a visible connection to the paper. For reasons I no longer explicitly recall, the individual articles were all unsigned, though it was probably to prevent one writer from being singled out for sanction because of a specific article.

Jim drafted our purpose statement: “The Menno-Pause is a gadfly (poking and prodding the GC sacred cows), a watchdog (checking and analysing disciplinary action), a critic (positive or negative analysis of GC education), an extended student opinion board-and general all-around crap.” We characterized ourselves as the “campus underground newspaper team.”

On the evening of September 28, Sue Clemmer provided us access to the English department’s stencil cutting and mimeograph machines. Verlin frantically typed the stencils. We had a blank space that needed filling, so we added a list of unacceptable words that been “deleted,” including shucks, goodness gracious, and fuck (37 times). Peg Mullet and Kathy Helmuth assisted us in printing the two-sheet, four page paper. Lenny Preheim agreed to circulate issues in the dining hall the next morning. He showed up late, so I gave away almost all of the 400 copies in less than 30 minutes in the breakfast lineup.

Record-editorial

Record editorial, October 6, p. 2

The reaction was mixed, but there were many requests for leftover copies. Critical comments suggested we had come closest to meeting the last phrase of our purpose statement (“general all-around crap”). Even our friends at the Record later editorialized: “Unfortunately, the first issue was cruder than it was funny.”

Dan-Hess

Dan Hess, 1967. Maple Leaf photo

We delivered a personal copy to Dan Hess, the faculty adviser for student publications. (Dan Leatherman, our political science prof, was on leave, living in Chicago that year working on a PhD degree, and wasn’t available for counsel during these days.) Hess was soon asked if he could provide the administration a copy of our paper. By Saturday afternoon we had received our first letter to the editor–a critical analysis by Delmar Good, a young Economics professor, of Lowell Miller’s graph and analysis on “the decline and fall of the covering [prayer veil]” in the student yearbook over the years.

By Monday (October 2), it was clear that President Paul Mininger and other administrators were very unhappy. Dan Hess advised Jim Wenger, based on his earlier research, to gather a folder of articles that would provide background on the underground press movement for President Mininger. Hess also advised us to prepare a second issue as quickly as possible to provide a better example of our intent.

Paul-Mininger

Paul Mininger, 1967. Maple Leaf photo

We thought this advice was good, and immediately began work on the next issue. There was one conflict within the editorial board. Should we pursue the use of “obscene” language? Tom said it was not crucial to the paper. Jim was not sure. I thought we should not go out of our way to use it, but that we should claim the right to use it as the situation demanded.

We finally decided to discuss the issue of obscene language in the second issue, and delegated the task for the primary article to Tom, since he would probably have the coolest head in writing it. Jim found a quote from Eberhard Kronhausen (who wrote learned books on pornography) that seemed to fit the front page nicely, and we also found a little piece by Episcopal rabble-rouser Malcolm Boyd that addressed the issue.

We also wanted to present something explicitly positive. So Jim wrote a short article about Prof. Mary Oyer, a real academic hero of Jim’s in the area of Fine Arts and Music. I opposed this, probably because she once publicly lectured me for falling asleep in her class, but was overruled by the other editors.

Russ-Liechty

Dean of Students Russ Liechty, 1968. Maple Leaf photo

That Thursday we were pulled out of class for a meeting “in ten minutes” with President Mininger and Dean of Students Russ Liechty. They expressed concern about “the word on the back page,”  the combination of letters in the name of our team, and the name of the paper. We talked about the nature of underground papers and satire, that this was a first effort. I defended our use of the language.

After the meeting with the four of us, Jim and I were kept for individual meetings with President Mininger and Dean Liechty. In my meeting they expressed great disappointment because of my earlier infractions at the college. I claimed that in my re-admission from a previous suspension I had specifically retained the right to speak to issues at the college. I suspect I was fairly defensive.

None of the rest of us editors knew that Jim Wenger was in the process of sorting out his sexual identity. That summer he had placed an personal ad in the Berkeley Barb soliciting a male partner. An alumnus of the college had seen the ad, and had sent a copy to the Goshen College administration. Despite this act, however, Jim was also then tentatively exploring a romantic relationship with a female member of our publications Brüderhof. I assume the administrators discussed the ad with Jim, though I don’t know that as a fact. I have searched for this ad in in the online archives of the Berkeley Barb and East Village Other (the paper he had studied in his research) on several occasions, but I’ve never been able to find the ad.

Our second issue came out on Monday, October 9. Copies created with a slightly more sophisticated process in downtown Goshen at a Mennonite agency, again were snapped up in short order. In the aftermath Jim and I were invited to participate in the campus church on the following Sunday to talk about dissent on Christian campuses.

As it happened, all the decisions we had made about content in issue #2 were used against us in the ensuing decisions. Even the article about Mary Oyer was interpreted as being destructive to the integrity of the college community.

Wednesday night, October 11, the four publicly-identified editors meet individually with the Faculty Discipline Committee. In my meeting President Mininger read a lengthy statement on the goals and purposes of Goshen College. I was then asked why I should be allowed to remain at Goshen College. I responded, likely with limited coherence, that I thought I could make a contribution to the life of the college. When asked if I had regrets, I said I regretted that we had failed to properly communicate our goals. The three other publicly identified editors had similar experiences.

A Presidential Forum for all students was announced for Thursday evening, October 12, in the church-chapel. The meeting was scheduled for 8:30 pm. Since a faculty meeting had gone on most of the day, we did not learn our personal fates until 7:30 that evening. It was harsher than we expected. All four public editors were suspended for the remainder of the academic year. We had speculated that I might be disciplined because of my prior “record” at the College. This disciplinary action changed all our lives in varying ways.

Record-summary

The Record‘s summary of events. October 27, p. 6

The administration asked us not to attend the Presidential Forum. For reasons I don’t recall, we agreed. At the forum a large majority of the students supported the suspension with a round of applause. Verlin, and other members of the publications Brüderhof in attendance at the meeting, were surprised by the intensity of the student support for the administration, and felt it was directed against them as well.

The next days found the four of us contacting family, sorting out logistics and making plans. Some of the editors had a debriefing at Dan Hess’ home. Sunday afternoon the editors were interviewed by Sue Clemmer as part of a two-page spread in the Record. After a “last [spaghetti] supper” prepared by Forreyce Lewis for the editors and their friends on Sunday night, the four of us left for Chicago.

Menno-Pause editors, October 1967

Menno-Pause editors, October 15, 1967. L-R: Jim Wenger, Tom Harley, Sam Steiner, Lowell Miller. Goshen College Record photo, October 27, pp. 6-7

Record-quotes

Quotes in the Record’s two page spread, October 27, p. 6

Two things attracted us to Chicago. The Voluntary Service (VS) unit on Chicago’s south side housed Steve Stucky and Mark Wagler, the two guys, who had shown us an underground paper the previous summer, as well as Mark’s wife and infant son. Also, Dan Leatherman, our political science prof, lived with his family near the VS unit.

Tom and Lowell soon left Chicago and returned to their homes. Jim and I moved to the northern edge of Chicago and got jobs at the Evanston Hospital–Jim in the kitchen, I as a supply clerk in the general stores area. Jim was able to use his work to fulfill his alternative service obligation to the Selective Service System. He remained working in the hospital kitchen for the rest of his life. I worked at the hospital for about six months until I destroyed my draft card, returned it to my local draft board, and was dismissed from the hospital.

Sometime in late 1967 or early 1968 Jim confirmed his sexual orientation as a gay man, and came out to me and other close friends. Within a half a year or so he had begun a life-long committed relationship with Peter Johnsen. They shared almost 30 years together. Jim died May 31, 1997 after initially contracting non-HIV pneumonia, and finally succumbing from a superbug he caught while in the hospital.

Sue and Sam wedding

Wedding party L-R: Sara Freed (former Record editor), Sue Clemmer, J. R. Burkholder (minister), Sam Steiner, Tom Harley. Verlin Miller was an usher. 

During this tumultuous time in Chicago (1967/68), Jim and I were periodically visited by various friends from the Goshen publication Brüderhof. As my legal and living situation worsened, they expressed growing concern for my psychological well-being. One friend from the Brüderhof in particular, Sue Clemmer, persuaded me that Canada was a healthier alternative for me than prison. I left for Canada during the last week of October 1968. Our courtship deepened, and we were married in Canada on August 2, 1969.

People have asked if there was ever reconciliation with the administrative leaders at Goshen College. Tom returned to Goshen and Lowell ended up following another educational path; I finished my undergraduate degree in Canada.

Jim Wenger, ca. 1992

Jim Wenger, ca. 1992. Photo by Peter Johnsen. Used as a publicity photo for his musical performances.

Jim Wenger never returned to academia, and stopped playing the piano for almost 20 years. He eventually healed enough to begin to play the piano again in the late 1980s and  to create tapes of his piano music for friends as Christmas presents. He began to perform as a piano soloist in the early 1990s, including at the Art Association of Harrisburg, Pennsylvania, near his home community of Lancaster, Pennsylvania.

Jim and Peter returned to the Goshen College for the first (and only?) time for a weekend in October 1993 as a guest of Dan and Joy Hess. Jim later described it as cathartic for himself–“many positive and negative memories flowed.” He also had what he described as a “joyful reunion” with Mary Oyer. In 1995, as recounted by Dan Hess, Jim had one meeting with then former President Mininger, though we don’t know what was said in that encounter.

I first encountered Paul Mininger after my suspension around 1980 in the home of Richard Detweiler, then pastor of the Souderton Mennonite Church. Mininger was the preacher at the Souderton Church one Sunday when Sue and I were visiting her family in Souderton. Richard Detweiler was Sue’s first cousin. Richard and his wife, Mary Jane, invited us to Sunday lunch and Richard forced me to sit next to Mininger at the dining room table. We had a cordial conversation.

Paul Mininger and I later had several longer conversations. In 1991 I made a presentation about my college and draft experience to a Mennonite Historical Society meeting at the Mennonite Church Assembly in Eugene, Oregon. Paul Mininger asked if I would mind if he came to the presentation. He exhibited a warmth in our conversations then that I had not experienced when a student. I felt we ended on good terms.

On reflection, the four of us were naive in estimating what a small Mennonite college, still shaking off the traditions of the 1950s and early 1960s, was capable of absorbing. The applause of the student body at our dismissal forced the editorial staff at the Record and the Maple Leaf to reassess whether their left-leaning “self-styled” elite was able to serve the full spectrum of the student community. They worked hard at it in the subsequent months.

Nonetheless I’ve always felt the college administration’s reaction was excessive, exhibiting greater fear of our power to disrupt the college community than was reality in 1967. In addition to the profanity, and the perceived attack on community, our loose association with SDS and Jim Wenger’s working out of his sexual orientation  seemed to be held against us in formulating the level of discipline imposed on us.

For me, the events were life-changing as with the loss of my student deferment I launched into conflict with the U.S.’s Selective Service System. I also had to come to grips with my own response to Jim’s homosexuality at a time when I had not ever considered the issue. I refused induction in spring 1968 and went to Canada in October 1968. I worked as a grocery clerk and a computer programmer for several years, and completed my BA at Conrad Grebel College at the University of Waterloo in 1973. In that study I also came to embrace the Mennonite Church, and became passionately interested in its history. I worked in the library and archives at Conrad Grebel College from September 1974 to December 2008.

Over the years Menno-Pause made its way into the folklore of Goshen College’s history. However, I believe the only published reflections on this publication are in Susan Fisher Miller’s Culture for service: A history of Goshen College, 1894-1994, J. Daniel Hess’s memoir reflection, “Menno Pause Revisited” and two chapters in Sue Clemmer Steiner’s Flowing with the River: soundings from my life and ministry (2013)

In 2014 the surviving editors held a reunion at the home of Verlin and Elaine Miller. It was a time to laugh and remember; it was a time to mourn the loss of our friend, Jim Wenger.

After our reunion, Lowell Miller wrote the following limerick that he sent to each of us:

There once were four guys who wrote stuff
They were tired of flimflam and fluff
They twice went to press
But suffered redress
And were kicked out of school in a huff.

Menno-Pause editors, 2014

Surviving Menno-Pause editors, June 2014. Back (L-R): Tom Harley, Lowell Miller; Front: Sam Steiner, Verlin Miller

My own experience with the U.S. draft in 1967/1968 has appeared in Melissa Miller and Phil Shenk, The Path of Most Resistance: Stories of Mennonite Conscientious Objectors Who Did Not Cooperate with the Vietnam War Draft. Scottdale, PA: Herald Press, 1982: 95–114 and Samuel J. Steiner,  “Alternative Service or Alternative Resistance? A Vietnam War Draft Resister in Canada.” Journal of Mennonite Studies 25 (2007): 195–204. https://jms.uwinnipeg.ca/index.php/jms/article/viewFile/1234/1226. It has also been interpreted in a drama authored by Rebecca Steiner, Gadfly: Sam Steiner Dodges the Draft, and put on in fringe festivals across Canada in 2012, and at Goshen College in 2013 by Theatre of the Beat.

This reflection on Menno-Pause is enormously undergirded by three unpublished typescripts on the Menno-Pause event written in late 1967 and early 1968. These were by myself, Jim Wenger and Sue Clemmer. Copies of these reflections are available at the Mennonite Historical Library at Goshen College and in the Mennonite Archives of Ontario in Waterloo, Ontario.

See also Reflections on Menno-Pause by Lowell Miller, Tom Harley, Verlin Miller and Sue Clemmer Steiner See also Menno Pause Revisited by Dan Hess, first published in CMW Journal in 2009

This extended blog, and the accompanying “Reflections” replace the blog that would normally be posted next Monday.

Menno-Pause — a personal reflection

Today’s blog is tangentially related to Ontario Mennonite history, since I would likely not be in Canada to write about Ontario Mennonite history without this incident.

It can fairly be said that my move to Canada in October 1968 partially resulted from an experience shared with a number of other students at Goshen College (Goshen, Indiana) in September/October 1967. This was a one month experiment with an underground “newspaper” called Menno-Pause.

Although Menno-Pause has been most closely associated with the four young men who were expelled from the College because they signed their name to the title page, the editorial team included a fifth member, and a number of other students assisted in its design, production and circulation.

The five editors included Jim Wenger, a brilliant English major certain to have a future in academia. He was a voracious reader and a lover of ideas, as well as being a gifted pianist. Lowell Miller, a farm boy from Ohio, was another English major who enjoyed theological debate. In fall 1967 Jim and Lowell were roommates in Yoder Hall.

Tom Harley was a political science major with an incisive wit, a love for both Joseph Haydn and the Beatles, and a passion for trout fishing. I was a political science major, a photographer, and a lover of urban blues. Some thought that I was also a faux rebel. In fall 1967 Tom and I were roommates at the other end of Yoder Hall in Room 201. Verlin Miller, a religion major with a rich curiosity for people and ideas, was a staff assistant on another floor in Yoder Hall.

We were friends before Menno-Pause started. I had been the photographer for the Maple Leaf yearbook in 1966/67 when Jim was its editor. Tom and I were the only political science majors at the college. Verlin and I roomed together part of the summer of 1967 with shared interest in blues and underground newspapers. Lowell I didn’t know until our adventure began.

We were all young, naive Mennonites (except for Tom, who was just young and naive). We were part of a “publications Brüderhof” at the college, loosely connected to The Record, the official student newspaper, the Maple Leaf (annual student yearbook), and Foolscap (student literary publication). I was the photographer and Tom was a regular columnist for the Record, and Jim and Lowell also wrote for the Record.  Sue Clemmer, the Record editor, was part of the Brüderhof, as was Carol Beechy, the Maple Leaf editor. Jim and Lowell were on staff for Foolscap.

Jim Wenger was the intellectual leader of our little band.  He had studied the growing phenomenon of underground newspapers in spring 1967 for the Communication and Society course. He was a convinced adherent of the free speech movement, and wished for a living example at Goshen College. He also wanted to shake his “egghead” reputation because he had a near 4.0 grade average.

I was a convinced adherent of the New Left movement through membership in the Students for a Democratic Society (S.D.S.). This philosophy was articulated in its Port Huron statement and the buzzword of “participatory democracy” (which believed students should truly participate in shaping their own education).

The summer of 1967 Verlin and I saw a modest underground newspaper prepared by two Voluntary Service workers in Chicago, Steve Stucky and Mark Wagler. We mused about the possibilities.

In early September the five of us began to plan, mostly in Yoder 201, often against the backdrop of “Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band.” By September 10 we were serious about producing an underground paper. Tom gave us the name of the paper. We co-opted others to help. They included Carol Beechy (women’s perspective), Doug Swartzendruber (design), Eric Yoder, and Bill Horrisberger.  We delegated Jim and Lowell to give Sue Clemmer a “head’s up” that our alternative publication was coming.

Since our work on the paper was an open secret, four of us decided to sign the masthead of Menno-Pause issue #1. We encouraged Verlin to leave his name off the masthead, since he had an official role that might be jeopardized by a visible connection to the paper. For reasons I no longer recall, the individual articles were all unsigned.

Jim drafted our purpose statement thusly: “The Menno-Pause is a gadfly (poking and prodding the GC sacred cows), a watchdog (checking and analysing disciplinary action), a critic (positive or negative analysis of GC education), an extended student opinion board–and general all-around crap.” We characterized ourselves as the “campus underground newspaper team.”

On the evening of September 28, Sue Clemmer provided us access to the English department’s stencil cutting and mimeograph machines. Verlin frantically typed the stencils. We had blank space that needed filling, so we added a list of unacceptable words that been “deleted,” including shucks, goodness gracious, and fuck (37 times). Peg Mullet and Kathy Helmuth assisted us in printing the two-sheet, four page paper. Lenny Preheim agreed to circulate issues in the dining hall the next morning. Four hundred copies were gone in less than 30 minutes.

The reaction was mixed, but there were many requests for left-over copies. Critical comments suggested we had come closest to meeting the last point of our purpose statement (“general all-around crap”). Even our friends at the Record later editorialized: “Unfortunately, the first issue was cruder than it was funny.”

We delivered a personal copy to Dan Hess, the faculty adviser for student publications. He was soon asked if he could provide the administration a copy. By Saturday afternoon we had received our first letter to the editor–a critical analysis by a professor of Lowell Miller’s graph and analysis of “the decline and fall of the covering [prayer veil]” in the student yearbook over the years.

By Monday (October 2), it was clear that President Paul Mininger and other administrators were very unhappy. Dan Hess advised Jim to gather a folder of articles that would provide background on the underground press movement for President Mininger. Hess also advised us to prepare a second issue as quickly as possible to provide a better example of our intent.

We thought this advice was good, and immediately began work on the next issue. There was one conflict within the editorial board. Should we pursue the use of “obscene” language? Tom said it was not crucial to the paper. Jim was not sure. I thought we should not go out of our way to use it, but that we should claim the right to use it as the situation demanded. We decided to discuss the issue of obscene language in the second issue, and delegated the task to Tom, since he would probably have the coolest head in writing it. Jim found a quote from Eberhard Kronhausen that seemed to fit the front page very nicely, and we also found a little piece by Malcolm Boyd that addressed the issue.

We also wanted to present something positive. So Jim wrote a piece about Dr. Mary Oyer, a real academic hero of his. I opposed this, but was overruled by the other editors.

That Thursday we were pulled out of class for a meeting “in ten minutes” with President Mininger and Dean of Students Russ Liechty. They expressed concern about “the word on the back page,”  the combination of letters in the name of our team, and the name of the paper. We talked about the nature of underground papers and satire, that this was a first effort. I defended our use of the language.

After the meeting with the four of us, Jim and I were kept for individual meetings with President Mininger and Dean Liechty. In my meeting they expressed great disappointment because of my earlier infractions at the college. I claimed that in my re-admission from a previous suspension I had specifically retained the right to speak to issues at the college. I suspect I was fairly defensive.

None of the rest of us editors knew that Jim was in the process of sorting out his sexual identity. That summer he had placed an personal ad in the Berkeley Barb soliciting a male partner. An alumnus of the college had seen the ad, and had sent a copy to the Goshen College administration. Despite this, however, Jim was also then still open to exploring a romantic relationship with a female member of our publications Brüderhof. I assume the administrators discussed the ad with Jim, though I don’t know that as a fact. He did not mention it to me.

Our second issue came out on Monday, October 9. Copies again were snapped up in short order. In the aftermath Jim and I were invited to participate in the campus church on the following Sunday to talk about dissent on Christian campuses.

As it happened, all the decisions we had made about content in issue #2 were used against us in the ensuing decisions. Even the article about Mary Oyer was interpreted as being destructive to the integrity of the college community.

Cover of Menno-Pause, issue one.

Menno-Pause, issues 1 & 2.

Both issues of Menno-Pause are available as a pdf download by clicking on the image to the left. My apologies for the poor quality of the original issue #1.

Wednesday night the four publicly-identified editors meet individually with the Faculty Discipline Committee. In my meeting President Mininger read a lengthy statement on the goals and purposes of Goshen College. I was then asked why I should be allowed to remain at Goshen College. I responded, likely with limited coherence, that I thought I could make a contribution to the life of the college. When asked if I had regrets, I said I regretted that we had failed to properly communicate our goals. The three other editors had similar experiences.

A Presidential Forum for all students was announced for Thursday evening, October 12, in the church-chapel. The meeting was scheduled for 8:30 pm. Since a faculty meeting had gone on most of the day, we did not learn our fate until 7:30 that evening. The four public editors were suspended for the remainder of the academic year.

The administration asked us not to attend the Presidential Forum. For reasons I don’t recall, we agreed. At the forum a large majority of the students supported the suspension with a round of applause. Verlin, and other members of the publications Brüderhof were surprised by the intensity of the support, and felt it was directed against them as well.

The next days involved contacting family, sorting out logistics and making plans. Some of the editors had a debriefing at Dan Hess’ home. Sunday afternoon the editors were interviewed by Sue Clemmer as part of a two-page spread in the Record. After a “last [spaghetti] supper” prepared by Forreyce Lewis for the editors and their friends on Sunday night, the four of us left for Chicago.

Menno-Pause editors, October 1967

Menno-Pause editors, October 15, 1967. L-R: Jim Wenger, Tom Harley, Sam Steiner, Lowell Miller. Goshen College Record photo

Two things attracted us. The Voluntary Service unit on Chicago’s south side housed Steve Stucky and Mark Wagler, the two guys who had shown us an underground paper the previous summer. And Dan Leatherman, Goshen’s sole political science prof, was studying that year and lived with his family near the VS unit.

Tom and Lowell soon left Chicago and returned home. Jim and I moved to the northern edge of Chicago and got jobs at the Evanston Hospital–Jim in the kitchen, myself as a supply clerk. Jim was able to use his work to fulfill his alternative service obligation to the Selective Service System. He remained working in the hospital kitchen for the rest of his life. I worked at the hospital for about six months until I destroyed my draft card and was dismissed from the hospital.

Sometime in late 1967 or early 1968 Jim confirmed his sexual orientation as a gay man, and came out to me and other close friends. Within a half a year or so he had begun a life-long committed relationship with Peter Johnsen. They shared almost 30 years together. Jim died May 31, 1997 initially from non-HIV pneumonia, and finally from a superbug he contracted while in the hospital.

Sue and Sam wedding

Wedding party L-R: Sara Freed (former Record editor), Sue Clemmer, J. R. Burkholder (minister), Sam Steiner, Tom Harley. Verlin Miller was an usher. 

During this tumultuous time in Chicago, Jim and I were visited by various friends from the Goshen publication Brüderhof. As my legal and living situation worsened, they expressed growing concern for my well-being. One friend in particular, Sue Clemmer, persuaded me that Canada was a healthier alternative than prison. I left for Canada during the last week of October 1968. Our courtship deepened, and we were married in Canada on August 2, 1969.

People have wondered if there was ever reconciliation with leaders at the College. Tom and Lowell returned to school; I finished my degree in Canada.

[The following two paragraphs were updated December 4, 2015 and a photo added after discovering a folder of correspondence with Jim from 1994-1996.]

Jim Wenger, ca. 1992

Jim Wenger, ca. 1992. Photo by Peter Johnsen. Used as a publicity photo for his musical performances.

Jim Wenger never returned to academia, and stopped playing music for almost 20 years. He eventually healed enough to begin to play the piano again in the late 1980s and  to create tapes of his piano music for friends as Christmas presents. He began to perform as a piano soloist in the early 1990s, including at the Art Association of Harrisburg, Pennsylvania.

Jim and Peter returned to the Goshen College for the first (and only?) time for a weekend in October 1993 as a guest of Dan and Joy Hess. Jim described it as cathartic for himself–“many positive and negative memories flowed.” He also had what he described as a “joyful reunion” with Mary Oyer. In 1995, as recounted by Dan Hess, Jim had one meeting with President Mininger, though we don’t know what was said in that encounter.

I next encountered Paul Mininger around 1980 in the home of Richard Detweiler, then pastor of the Souderton Mennonite Church. Mininger was the preacher at the Souderton Church one Sunday when Sue and I were visiting family. Richard and Mary Jane invited us to Sunday lunch and forced me to sit next to Mininger at the table. We had a cordial conversation.

We later had several longer conversations. In 1991 I made a presentation about my college and draft experience to a Mennonite Historical Society meeting at the Mennonite Church Assembly in Eugene, Oregon. Mininger asked if I minded if he came to the presentation. He exhibited a warmth in our conversations then that I had not experienced when a student. I felt we ended on good terms.

On reflection, the four of us were naive in estimating what a small Mennonite college, still shaking off the traditions of the 1950s and early 1960s, was capable of absorbing. The applause of the student body at our dismissal forced the editorial staff at the Record and the Maple Leaf to reassess whether their left-leaning “self-styled” elite was able to serve the full spectrum of the student community. They worked hard at it in the subsequent months.

Nonetheless I always felt the college administration’s reaction was excessive, exhibiting much greater fear of our power to disrupt the college community than was reality. In addition to the profanity, and the perceived attack on community, our loose association with SDS and Jim Wenger’s working out of his sexual orientation  seemed to be held against us in formulating the level of discipline.

For me, the events were life-changing as I was launched into conflict with the Selective Service System. I also had to come to grips with my own response to Jim’s homosexuality at a time when I had not ever considered the issue. And over time I came to embrace the Mennonite Church that finally refused to spew me out, even when many within it may have wanted to.

Over the years Menno-Pause made its way into the folklore of Goshen College’s history. However, I believe the only published reflections on this publication are in Susan Fisher Miller’s Culture for service: A history of Goshen College, 1894-1994, J. Daniel Hess’s memoir reflection, “Menno Pause Revisited” and two chapters in Sue Clemmer Steiner’s Flowing with the River: soundings from my life and ministry (2013)

In 2014 the surviving editors held a reunion at the home of Verlin Miller. It was a time to laugh and remember; it was a time to mourn the loss of our friend, Jim Wenger.

Menno-Pause editors, 2014

Surviving Menno-Pause editors, June 2014. Back (L-R): Tom Harley, Lowell Miller; Front: Sam Steiner, Verlin Miller

My own experience with the U.S. draft in 1967/1968 has appeared in Melissa Miller and Phil Shenk, The Path of Most Resistance: Stories of Mennonite Conscientious Objectors Who Did Not Cooperate with the Vietnam War Draft. Scottdale, PA: Herald Press, 1982: 95–114 and Samuel J. Steiner,  “Alternative Service or Alternative Resistance? A Vietnam War Draft Resister in Canada.” Journal of Mennonite Studies 25 (2007): 195–204. https://jms.uwinnipeg.ca/index.php/jms/article/viewFile/1234/1226. It has also been interpreted in a drama by Rebecca Steiner, Gadfly: Sam Steiner Dodges the Draft.

This reflection on Menno-Pause is undergirded by three unpublished typescripts on the Menno-Pause event written in late 1967 and early 1968. These were by myself, Jim Wenger and Sue Clemmer.