Remarks
at the Memorial Service for Frederick W. Cropp III
August
19, 2017
The
College of Wooster
Scheide
Music Hall
J.
Douglas Drushal
I guess I am in love with the Earth!
Coming to Wooster
Fred Cropp arrived at the College of Wooster in
1950, from Wheeling, West Virginia, where his father was Presbyterian minister. Fred’s initial thought was that he would be
an English major, later he thought Sociology.
Fred’s father, Wooster Class of 1926 and a good friend of Howard Lowry, was
a very prominent force in the Presbyterian Church, and recall that in those
days there was much more concern about the perceived conflict between religion
and the teaching of evolution. As such, those
who knew neither his father nor the College very well thought Fred’s eventual choice
of Geology as a Major to be curious. Fred
found this amusing, knowing that Wooster stood firmly on the side of science in
this debate and that there really was no conflict to be debated. After all,
Prexy Wishart had debated the topic with William Jennings Bryan on the floor of
the Presbyterian General Assembly in the early 1920s, taking the side of
teaching evolution. It was into such a
campus, and such a Geology Department, that Fred stuck his toe with an
introductory class. The Department, led
for many years by Professor Charles Moke,
Wooster Class of 1931, hooked Fred and therein arose his lifelong love for all
things geologic.
Fred was often asked if he argued with his father, to
which Fred replied that they did, indeed, have bitter arguments … about
baseball, and whether the National or American League had the better talent.
Scientia et Religio Ex Uno Fonte … at its best.
Returning to Wooster/Administration
Excited by Geology at Wooster, after graduation Fred went
on to earn his doctorate from the University of Illinois, where he also taught
for six years. He and Helen returned to
Wooster in 1964, recruited to a new administrative position of Associate Dean, along with being
Associate Professor of Geology (promoted to full Professor in 1969). Howard
Lowry suggested Fred for this new position and when my father checked with
Charlie Moke as a reference for Fred, Charlie responded that Fred was one of
the department’s best students ever and they had been trying to bring him back
for some time. That was all the
reference checking that was needed.
The Deanship did not last too long due to the sudden
death of Howard Lowry on July 4, 1967, at which time Vice President Drushal
became Acting President and Fred essentially became acting Vice President. A national search was undertaken for a new
President, and Fred was one of the faculty representatives on that
committee. Upon the Board selecting my
father as President in early 1968, he immediately asked Fred to be his Vice
President for Academic Affairs, which Fred accepted at the youthful age of
36. They formed a great team for the
rest of their decade of leadership. Both
trusted the other implicitly and duties were delegated and not second
guessed. It was unusual for my father
and Fred to attend the same meetings since they didn’t think that
necessary. A delightful outgrowth of
this professional relationship was the Drushal family and Cropp family becoming
close, a relationship I am pleased continues to this day.
One important task impacted by Fred’s leadership was the
effort to begin the transformation of the faculty at the College from what was,
in 1967, almost exclusively Western-oriented, Protestant, white, and male. While there were a few female faculty members,
virtually every one of them was unmarried, and low paid despite including some
wonderful teachers. Fred set about to
change this, and improve faculty salaries and fringe benefits across the
board. He was successful, at least in
getting started on this process, although all of these issues certainly remain
challenging yet today.
1967-77 were perhaps the most turbulent years in the
history of higher education in the United States. I am sorry if I sound like the old timer who
walked uphill to school both ways in his youth, but this is simply the
truth. The trio of the Vietnam War, the Civil Rights movement and a revolution
in values presented issues on college campuses which remain unmatched to
today. These were heady times on this
campus. Recall that we are just down the
road from Kent State, where the outcome was much different than here at
Wooster. Fred was at the forefront of
dealing with those issues in a manner which related to student concerns but
kept the situation peaceful. Fred was
instrumental in coordinating a very student-oriented team, including the likes
of Westminster’s Ray Swartzback, College physician Viola Startzman, then-Dean
Henry Copeland and Dean of Students Doris Coster.
Of course, if you knew Fred and my father, things were
also fun in Galpin Hall. Both had a
great sense of humor that fed off of one another. A smile was never far away.
Do you recall the Pet Rock craze of the mid-1970s? Well, being a Geologist, of course someone
got a Pet Rock for Fred, which he proudly displayed in its original gift
case. One day, the rock was missing and
in its place was a ransom note, demanding that a large sum of money be
delivered to a location to be disclosed later.
In those days, ransom notes consisted of words assembled by pasting on a
sheet of paper excerpts cut out of newspapers and the like. Well, Fred foiled the kidnappers by placing
in the container a number of smaller pebble-sized rocks, with a note explaining
that his Pet Rock was pregnant and had reproduced and thus he would not be
meeting the kidnappers’ demands.
Some of you will also remember that at their last
Commencement in 1977 every graduating senior handed my father a golf ball,
which quickly started overflowing all of the available storage space on the
podium. This was Fred’s idea, but as a
Plan B to divert a devious group of students whose Plan A was to move all of
the furniture out of the President’s office and onto the podium. Upon learning of this plot, Fred succeeded in
diverting the conspirators into the golf ball donations. Although it turned out they were just the
very used balls from the driving range at the College golf course, to which
they were returned shortly after commencement.
Returning to the Classroom
After the end of his time as Vice President in 1977, Fred
took a year’s leave at the University of Arizona, thus beginning a long
association with that state. More about
that later. While Fred enjoyed
administration and excelled at it, I think it is fair to say that his real love
was teaching, and he became one of Wooster’s most beloved faculty members in
the long history of this institution.
Fred had what it takes to be an outstanding
Professor. Full command of his subject
matter, an evident caring for and empathy with students, an engaging style of
delivery of the material, a challenging approach that made students work harder
than they thought they might have to. He
never excused poor grammar, to the chagrin of many students who wondered why
that mattered in a science class.
Listen to the following collection of comments from
former students:
“I will always remember Professor Cropp and my freshman Geology 101 class. His contagious enthusiasm and passion for the subject, coupled with an ability to make rocks interesting will never leave me. I still regularly bore friends and family alike with random, unsolicited comments on things like the Kaibab formation, siltstone layers, thrust faults and glacial erratics. I remain fascinated by the subject to this very day. He was a great teacher and a great man.”
“I will always remember Professor Cropp and my freshman Geology 101 class. His contagious enthusiasm and passion for the subject, coupled with an ability to make rocks interesting will never leave me. I still regularly bore friends and family alike with random, unsolicited comments on things like the Kaibab formation, siltstone layers, thrust faults and glacial erratics. I remain fascinated by the subject to this very day. He was a great teacher and a great man.”
“Fred
Cropp was the person I listed on a recent C.O.W alumni survey, ironically the
day he died, as the person who most influenced me while at Wooster and after
graduation. So very many twists and turns in my life since graduation in 1983
can be traced back to him. Thank you, Dr. Cropp, for making my life richer.”
“I
knew Dr. Cropp in both his capacity as Dean and as a geology prof. Wonderful,
inspirational person with lots of smiles and laughs. Loved his geology class
that was informative and had lots of illustrative slides. If I had taken this
class in my freshman year instead of my senior, I probably would have majored
in geology. I live in western Canada. In my travels around western North
America I've visited lots of the places he showed in his slides, and I always
think of him.”
“No
one epitomizes Wooster or the Wooster experience more than Fred Cropp, and I
feel truly blessed to consider him a teacher, mentor, and most importantly,
friend. My fondest memories of Dr. Cropp are simply watching his eyes light up,
discussing plate tectonics, or slogging around a rainy, muddy field trip,
sharing his knowledge and experience. Dr. Cropp taught immeasurable life
lessons to his students, many of which I carry with me to this very day. And of
all things, I learned how to truly write and write well in his classes? Learn
to write and think critically in a Geology class? Yes, if you have Fred Cropp
as your professor. While I mourn the passing of Fred Cropp with his family and
friends, I also celebrate a life very well lived. Few are lucky enough to have
such far-reaching impact and influence on the lives of thousands, and simply
have fun doing it. Fred Cropp was someone who did and I consider myself lucky
and privileged to have known him.”
I could go on at length, but I
think you get the point. Many other
comments could be boiled down to “He was the best professor I had at the
College.”
And especially interesting were
quite a number of comments to the effect of “I am a Geologist today because of Fred Cropp.” Abe
Springer, now Professor of Geology at Northern Arizona University (see how
Arizona keeps popping up?), wrote “Like many Geology majors, I didn’t
consider majoring in Geology until I was turned on to it through Physical
Geology with Fred. … I still have my journals from that semester and immensely
enjoy pulling them out every now and then and reading them. I even assign similar writing assignments for
[my students].”
Fred was often a spokesperson
for the College, on campus and elsewhere.
A colleague of mine who graduated from the College but never took a
class from Fred commented once to me, after hearing a presentation from Fred at
an alumni event: Fred Cropp seems to be who the College trots out to alumni to impress
them with what’s happening on campus.
And from another former
student: I went to Wooster because of
Fred. He came to Washington DC with the recruiting team and he gave an amazing
presentation of his trip down the Grand Canyon and created an analogy to the
Wooster experience and I was hooked!
While Fred loved Geology and thought it important, he
never wanted students to think only about that.
Abe Springer again: “Fred encouraged us to balance our lives
inside and outside of Scovel Hall. I’ll
never forget how Fred talked Frank Koucky into delaying a minerology exam so
that we could come over to Fred’s house and watch an NCAA basketball Final Four
game.” Fred definitely thought that
sports, whether as athlete or fan, was an important part of the college
experience. And theatre, lectures,
concerts, late night bull sessions, take it all in and find something new. It was no accident that Fred’s closest
friends on the faculty taught in other departments.
Fred’s approach was outlined in a series of letters he
wrote to each of his children as they headed off to college at various
schools. He adapted these letters into
an Op-Ed in the Cleveland Plain Dealer in 1989, just after
the youngest, Tom, headed off to Northern Arizona University. After some practical tips about independent
decision making and good study habits and social habits, he encouraged them to
do at least one extra thing every week, including things that might not appeal
at first glance. Do not worry about
asking “Who am I?”, as that will come in the daily decisions made outside the
classroom. Rather, remain open to growth
and change. “If the college you go to is any good, it will hit you like a ton of
bricks and stretch you until you squawk.”
He closed, “Peace, love and good
luck.”
And finally, The Grand Canyon
During Fred’s leave year, while in Arizona in the summer
of 1978, through the pre-Google search processes of the day, Fred arranged to
take a raft trip through the Grand Canyon organized by Hatch River Expeditions. He
was hooked. He returned to Wooster with
a plan to both coordinate and lead such trips for the College as an alumni
travel opportunity. Thus began nearly
twenty years of leading such trips, starting out in 1980 with one trip that
included some people in this room today and Charlie Moke, long retired and then
living in Arizona. The administrator in
Fred oversaw the coordination of the logistics before the trips. The Geology teacher in Fred had the joyous
task of explaining the Canyon Geology to all along during the trips.
Careful to call it The
Grand Canyon of the Colorado River (as there are other places, Yellowstone
included, that have canyons labelled “grand”), it became a place that Fred
liked to call his “La Querencia.” This is a metaphysical concept in the Spanish language which describes a place where one
feels safe, a place from which one's strength of character is drawn, a place
where one feels at home.
Always one to compose his own journal, and encourage
others to do the same, during Fred’s first trip, his first journal entry was “I guess I am in love with the Earth.”
From a single trip in 1980, word got out and the next
year it was two trips, already including repeaters from the year before. This pattern of repeaters continued
throughout, with some going nearly every year.
My first trip was 1983, memorable as the year of record-setting flows
and fears that the Glen Canyon Dam, just upstream from the Grand Canyon, was at
risk of sudden collapse. The pattern was
established of trip lists of Fred’s former Wooster students, Fred’s former
Geology colleagues from around the country, local Wooster folks, and others who
knew someone in one of the former categories.
There was virtually no advertising and no promotion.
The thrill of the rapids in the Canyon was definitely a
draw. After all, it’s the fastest
navigable white water in the Western Hemisphere. Fred enjoyed watching others enjoy the
Roaring 20s, Unkar, the Jewels, Hance, Sockdolager, Hermit (my personal favorite),
Crystal, Lava Falls. But the River was
just a means of conveyance to see not only the Geology visible from the River
but also to access the side canyons, places of spectacular beauty, with lush
greenery and warm waterfalls, the latter being a nice respite from the frigid
waters of the main River. The River got
Fred to fantastic hiking trails, facilitating frequent hikes, sometimes just
short strolls and other times taking up to eight or more hours. We would hike up to the Granaries at
Nankoweap, up and over at Carbon Creek and Lava Chuar, up to Elves Chasm to
jump off the cliff into the water pooled below, to the waterfall up Stone
Creek, and the genuinely grueling up Tapeats Creek, across Surprise Valley and
down into Deer Creek through the Throne Room.
Toward the end of each trip, there would be a “silent hike” up National
Canyon, an otherwise routine (albeit, still spectacular) side canyon, where
Fred required walking quietly by one’s self and taking some time to
contemplate.
And, of course, I must mention Blacktail Canyon, where just a few dozen yards off the main River
is an excellent view of the Great
Unconformity, a place where two adjoining rock layers should not be
adjoining, missing hundreds of millions of years of geologic history. Now, I must confess that this exposure to the
Great Unconformity was more awe-inspiring to Fred and other geologists who
might be along than it was to the History Majors in the group. But to sit in this place, a cool respite in
the shade away from the 100 degree air along the River, and listen to Fred talk
about the passage of hundreds of millions of years was a special
experience. We still stop in Blacktail
every year, I was just there a few weeks ago, and new geologists share Fred’s
enthusiasm for the place, and always place their fingers on either side of the
hundreds of millions of years gap. I
will never forget the thrill of seeing Fred revel in this small portion of La
Querencia.
At Mile 170 in the Canyon, there is a rock formation
along River Right the forms a small mesa-like structure. When we would pass that spot, Fred would quip
that if there were ever a statue erected in his honor that this rock should be
the “plinth”, a term he explained
was the base upon which a statue is erected.
This was good Cropp humor, said with a smile, as he really did not
expect a statue to be erected anywhere.
And Fred was not a Saint. He had
his human frailties, as we all do. I know
he had some regrets and some things in his life did not turn out as he would
have liked. But if anyone deserves a
statue to be erected in his honor, I would be eager to nominate Fred.
In 1990, the College decided, for reasons I never really
understood, that the College should not be the sponsor of these trips any
longer, but Fred was not ready to quit, so he came to me as his lawyer with the
task of creating a new non-profit corporation to be the sponsor. He said he wanted to call it “Environmental Experiences, Inc.”, and
thus was born EE. I informed him that
Ohio law requires at least three directors for a non-profit corporation, so he
said he would be one, Tom would be one, and, pointing at me, said “You’ll be
the other.” I did not take this as a
request, but rather an order. But that
was fine with me, and led to a wonderful ongoing relationship with EE which has
been a meaningful part of my life.
The name was important to Fred, as he saw these trips as
not just vacations for those coming along, but truly an environmental experience in
the wilderness, surrounded by the best Geology workshop known to humanity. Folks who went along were not “passengers”,
but rather “participants”. He wanted
participants to emerge with a new, or renewed, appreciation of the environment. He explained what we were seeing, starting
with the bus ride from Flagstaff to Lee’s Ferry and continuing through the bus
ride back to Flagstaff from Lake Mead. He
carried a Canyon library with him on every trip, in addition to the normal
collection of maps which seem to accompany all geologists. All of his adult life, Fred was an
“environmentalist”, before that term was popular. He certainly did not waste paper, as those of
you who received his hand-written notes on scraps of paper can attest. Before anyone knew anything about “carbon
footprint”, Fred’s was quite small.
When Fred retired from teaching in 1998, he decided to
retire from running Environmental Experiences.
He had recently undergone bypass surgery and while he was still the same
old Fred we did not realize at the time that he was beginning his long, slow
descent into what robbed him of his mind that was so painful for the rest of us
to watch in recent years. But Tom and I
thought that EE was too good a thing to just let it die, so we took over and
have continued it, still using Hatch
as our outfitter but hiring another Geologist to play the Fred Cropp Geologist
role in the Canyon. The Canyon is still
magnificent and Tom and I are pretty nice guys, but we quickly found out that
the real draw for these trips was Fred.
We now are happy to fill one boat (maybe two) once per year.
Think about
this: Imagine, if you
will, organizing a trip with a group of friends to visit some beautiful
place. Perhaps Provence or Tuscany,
perhaps India and the Taj Mahal, or an African Safari, or a River Cruise, some
place anyone would like to go. Then,
imagine finding 30-some people who would like to take that trip with you, and
coordinate their travel plans and arrange for lodging and meals and all that
would go with such a trip, and they would all pay their own way. You can imagine that. I was on such a trip just last year to
Normandy. But now try to imagine finding
four more groups of 30-some people who also want to take that same trip the
same year with you. Then try to imagine
getting most of those people to go again with you, sometimes over and over
again, year after year for twenty years, eventually having some two thousand
people take your trip. I just cannot
imagine doing that. I just don’t have
that many friends! Such was the draw of
traveling with Fred Cropp.
One year during the peak years of EE, Fred sponsored a
reunion, held at the President’s Home on campus. Henry Copeland remarked afterward: “Fred, you’ve created a cult!” While not meeting the technical definition
“cult”, there was quite a following of people who smiled when they heard the
word “Sockdolager”, who didn’t say “Goodbye” but said “See you Down the River”,
who knew they were “participants” and not “passengers”, who appreciated “The
Great Unconformity”, who knew to say “rock” and never “stone”, and otherwise
“spoke Canyon”.
While thinking about these remarks, I thought it would be
appropriate to close with an eloquent passage from the extensive collection of
Canyon literature. Perhaps the journal
of John Wesley Powell, the leader of the first recorded passage through the
Canyon in 1869. Perhaps the writing of
Edward Abbey, noted author of such books as The Monkey Wrench Gang
and Desert
Solitaire, two of Fred’s favorite books. Indeed, Fred and Edward Abbey even had an
intriguing exchange of correspondence about the relative merits of rowing trips
vs. motorized trips in the Canyon. But
my research included a Convocation Talk by Fred and none of these other authors
said it any better, so let’s end with Fred’s own words, again taken from his
own journal on his first trip:
“I guess I am in love with the Earth.
“I guess I am in love with the Earth.
Tonight
I am lost in time and space. I put my
watch away last Saturday and I do not know when it is – although I suspect it
is early morning on Friday, July 14.
Since
I woke up I have been lying here looking at the stars – and clouds – wondering
where we all are – where any of us is.
I
think I know better than ever before where I am. I think I learned that Wednesday – after a
long hike up Deer Creek where cold water poured from the Muav Limestone and
where I wept – me – FWC. I wept for joy
and appreciation for what the Grand Canyon has meant to me. I wept as I looked east from the top of the
Tapeats Sandstone – and saw almost the entire Grand Canyon geologic story
before my eyes.
I
have thought a lot this week about our Earth, the people on this trip – and
some people not on this trip.
My
appreciation of those who appreciate our Earth – and who, I suspect, share my
love of it – has grown. I have loved
watching them push themselves – and me – to a greater appreciation of the Earth
and some
of its inhabitants.
I
have felt sorry for those whose minds and/or bodies do not allow them to
experience what I have experienced. But
I have felt most sorry for those whose minds and bodies would have allowed them
to do more … and grow more…. ****
My
flashlight has attracted hundreds of bugs – a rarity in the Grand Canyon – and
I need the rest my mind and body cry for.
Yet sleep is hard for me in the Grand Canyon because this canyon brings
me to peace with myself and with our Earth –and I think maybe that is God.”
Fred’s spirit is now
certainly in his La Querencia. Rest in
Peace, my friend. And we do not say
Goodbye, we just say See you Down the River.