Change of Command

One professor called it "the blackest day in the history of the college," and many of his colleagues agreed with him. The College of William and Mary, not yet recovered from its athletic scandal and the resignation of President John Edwin Pomfret (TIME, Sept. 24), was once again in a state of shock. The center of the storm this time: the man who had been chosen as President Pomfret's successor.

The faculty had nothing against its new president personally--even though he was a military man rather than a scholar. Rear Admiral Alvin Duke Chandler, 49, director of the Navy's logistics plans division, seemed able, energetic and affable enough, and his father, Julian A. C. Chandler, had been a William and Mary president before him (1919-34). The only thing wrong with Admiral Chandler, the faculty insisted, was the highhanded way he had been chosen.

It was all done in a surprise move by the Board of Visitors, which previously had indicated that it had no intention of choosing a president until next spring. The board had even invited a faculty committee to make suggestions and recommendations. Then, without "notifying the committee, or even telling Acting President James Wilkinson Miller, philosophy professor and chairman of the Division of Humanities, the board in closed session suddenly made its decision.

The first word the faculty heard of it was over the 6 p.m. local news broadcast. By next afternoon, the professors had drawn up a formal protest, denouncing the action as a gross "violation of accepted academic practice and the traditions of the college . . ." The board's reply was to move the admiral's installation up a day earlier. To Dean Nelson Marshall, who pushed through the athletic investigation last spring, this was nothing less than a "studied insult to our faculty," and he resigned forthwith.

Through this campus gale last week the smiling admiral ("It's 'mister' now--since 9 o'clock this morning") seemed to be setting a confident course. Just why the board had chosen him, no one on campus quite knew, though some suspected that it was "a move of vengeance" directed against the faculty's recent attempt to take over the college athletic policy (TIME, Oct. 1).

In any case, the admiral was obviously determined to carry on. "I'm a great believer in loyalty," said he to his new crew. "Loyalty up and loyalty down. I give loyalty and I expect loyalty of everyone at this college." Despite a falling barometer and the nasty weather piling up on the horizon, the admiral seemed to expect nothing but smooth sailing aboard the good ship William and Mary.

This file is automatically generated by a robot program, so reader's discretion is required.