ALUMNI STORES 1914-1959

S. Oliver Paredes (BA,1950)

 
(Paredes, who had a 37-year career with CBS Radio & Television, says his most memorable moment came in a 1966 article in the St. Louis Globe Democrat. He was a sportscaster on KMOX TV and broadcast the results of the 1966 Texas Western College basketball NCAA championship.)

I'll let the Bob Burnes’ column in the St. Louis Globe Democrat (March 21, 1966) explain:

"The Bench Warmer"

"The words of someone else are worthy of attention at this moment at the end of the basketball season...To appreciate them you have to be a late stayer-upper.

“For those of you who watch the Late Late movie on KMOX TV and then catch the late news and sports, you may have wondered about the announcer when he reached one particular segment. He would go through the sports news...giving the scores and other details without stress...until he came to Texas Western...for the past few months on the late late news...you not only get the score of the Texas Western game...but a few added details, related with a real touch of pride.

“The words come from Ollie Raymond (Paredes) Texas Western's most loyal alumnus in the area...who rooted his boys all the way to the NCAA title...

“The way things have gone, Ollie, the least you can do is tear off a chorus or tow of the Alma Mater..."

Travis Hartley Bennett (BA, 1953)

  I attended UTEP when it was known as Texas Western College in the 50s. I was a struggling student in the Biological Science Department and took many courses under Dr. Berkman.

    My favorite story was the time I was in Organic Chemistry lab under Dr. Lake and the World Series was going on. It was the final game of the playoff between the Giants and Dodgers. This was in the afternoon (El Paso time). I was a rabid Dodger fan and when Bobby Thompson of the Giants hit that winning home run in the 9th, I was devastated.

    I almost broke all the glassware in the lab. Of course, I could not do that. I had an important chemical reaction going on and it meant a good grade. Nevertheless, I will never forget the moment.

Tom D. and Gerry Laird Porter (BBA,1951)

    We met at the Christmas Dance held at Holiday Hall in 1947. We dated and attended many classes together until graduating in June 1951. We married during "Easter Break" in March 1951.

    Tom had taken ROTC so graduated he in uniform. We spent several years in Germany where our first son, Thomas Laird, was born, then returned to civilian life in El Paso where our second son Paul was born. After 10 years, moved to California for 20 years, then Florida for five years.

Now we are proud to be Golden Grads of 53 years! We have life memberships as UTEP alums and look forward to many more years of growth and improvements at our great UTEP!

Louis W. Cope (BA,1950)

    During discussions of the name change at the Texas College of Mines in 1949, a group of engineering and geology students held a demonstration. There were about 20 of us. Someone had made a crude 10-foot long banner stating: "Texas College of Mines."

    While El Paso businessmen and college officials in the Mills Building were holding a meeting, we gathered in Alligator Park across the street. We had just unfurled our banner when a policemen with a billy club approached us. He said, "You boys break it up, or I'll run the bunch of you in." I thought to myself, "One cop and he's going to arrest 20 of us?"

    Instead, I said, "But officer, we aren't on the sidewalk and we're not making any noise."

The policeman's response was direct and to the point.

    "You've got 30 seconds to scatter or you'll be arrested." And pointing to me he said, "You'll be the first."

    Just at that moment, someone from the meeting came out to the group. He said that we should send three spokesmen to the meeting. The others left, thus ending a very brief demonstration!

Joy McKechnic Odom (BA, 1946)

    I remember Dec. 7, 1941, Pearl Harbor Day. I was a senior at Austin High School that year and I went to enroll at Texas College of Mines and Metallurgy in El Paso the following fall.

    These were the war years. We students often remarked that the Mines had become a "girls school" as most of our boys had gone to fight the war.

    I remember gas rationing as it forced many of us to ride the college bus, which we would catch each morning at the Plaza downtown. There was usually standing room only, and if we missed it, we had to walk.

    There was another bus at noon to take us back to town. One day, a group of us taking the long walk down Mesa Street, soaking wet as it was raining. (We never complained).

    Sometimes one of us was lucky enough to borrow a car. We would all pile in and head across the border to get gas. I also remember running out of gas and we would jump out and push.

Donald "Sparks" Buddecke (BS, 1957)

    It was 1955 when we assumed that the traditional dynamite blast wake-up call in the early morning of St. Pat's day was our turn.

    So four of us — Hank Bartell, a real mining fanatic; Lou Buescher, who found out he was claustrophobic after four years of underground mining education; Mike Holt, a remittance man from England; and myself, who finally passed freshman English my senior year when being dyslexic was considered just being stupid — exploded our 50 pounds of noise successfully.

  Later, I was apprehended eating huevos rancheros in an all night eatery. I was put in the jail's holding tank. When asked what I was in for, I replied, "Dynamiting the college."

    I was bailed out.

Mary Margaret Davis (BA, 1952)

    During my Texas Western College years (1949-52), there were barely 2,000 students — and everyone knew everyone.

    What fun we had! I recall hosting after-curfew snack sessions; a panty raid led by Alan Rash; and Conger Ballard at the grand piano in the living room.

  Also there was the painting of the "M" on Mount Franklin and later pleading with dear Dr. Berkman of the Disciplinary Committee to go easy on the boys caught not only with whitewash, but beer. Finally, a blind date from an SAE spring formal brought me my late husband George. His showing up at 6 a.m. on Homecoming to help me decorate the Chi O lodge exterior led to almost 47 happy married years — though no doubt our share of sadness — before his death in 2000 from Parkinson's Disease.