Wednesday, August 20, 1986
Campus
University Daily Kansan
3
The flags above Fraser Hall appear to jut out of the foliage on the east side of thing visitors see when they arrive in Lawrence, campus. The flags, which can be seen from miles away, are usually the first
Fraser flags wave at the early birds
Wilfredo Lee/KANSAN
Charles Leroy King, left, and Bill Kelch raise the KU flag. King and Kelch raise the flags every weekday around 7 a.m.
By Rachelle Worral
Staff writer
As the sun rises each morning, so do the flags above Eraser Hall.
Those who raise and lower the flags get the fringe benefit of seeing the campus and Lawrence from one of the highest points in the city.
It's a long climb to the roof of Fraser. Three flights of stairs from the seventh floor lead to the small towers from which the flags are raised.
The ritual begins before most students are on campus. Facilities and operations workers raise them each day at 7 a.m. and lower them at
10 p.m. Flags have been flying high above Fraser since 1967.
At 4: 54 a. m., campus is peaceful as Charles Leroy King and Bill Kelch take the elevator up to the seventh floor where a door in the stairway leads to the attic.
"I go up there and look down at the football field, King said." We can see pretty much everything from up there.
King, who has raised the flags weekday mornings for the past seven years, said that other workers at Fraser also raised the flags. The night crew takes the flags down in the evening.
"When it's pretty up here is when all the students are here."
The flags are not raised if winds exceeded by 25 miles per hour or if it is raining. King said. People often call asking where the flags are when they aren't raised.
"It's been a challenge on account of a lot of people always missing the flags downtown," he said. "Somebody calls in and wants to know where the flags are. You can see them 10 miles out.
"one time, Bill put the KU flag in upside down."
After the flags are lowered at night, they are kept draped over a rod in a large wooden bin in the attic. Kelch removes the U.S. flag first, and he and King start up the metal spiral staircase which leads to another room with another spiral staircase.
The towers from which the flags are raised are much bigger than they look from the ground. Each tower has eight large vented and screened windows. Most of the windows are bolted shut, but the favored view is from a north window in the tower where the KU flag is raised. The view encompasses the football stadium
They recieved a phone call because of that.
and the downtown.
The thick flag poles are anchored to the grated floors and extend through a small opening in the ceiling. The poles extend about 20 feet above the roof and the flags are 8 by 12 feet.
As Kelch tries to raise the flag, it snags and has to be lowered, sweeping the floor as it descends.
Kelch said, "I was always taught that the flag was not supposed to hit
the ground. I was always taught that in Boy Scouts."
They sometimes must climb up the ladder propped against the opening when the flag becomes snagged.
"You have to be careful or the wind will yank you right out of there." Kelch said.
King said visitors could go up into the tower if they got permission from the facilities and operations department.
Amy Rhoads/KANSAN
Prof spins science facts into tastv tales
Thor Holmes, graduate student and teaching assistant in biology, studies life.
By Evan Walter
Staff writer
On his birth certificate he is called, "Thorvald Holmes," but he tells his students to call him Thor.
Holmes tries to give his students an appreciation for biology by delivering course material with humorous plays and anecdotes.
He believes biology relates to everyone on Earth, and people need better knowledge of his field, which he calls "the study of life."
There are four sides to Holmes' personality: the scientist of mammology, working on his dissertation; the biology educator, teaching Biology 104, introductory biology; the performer; and the concerned environmentalist trying to educate and warn his students about how the present generation's doings will affect the future.
Holmes combs his long, reddish hair behind his head in a ponytail, making no attempt to hide his receding hairline. A beard of the same color extends below his collar. He wears Benjamin Franklin-type glasses and an amiable smile. He speaks boldly and clearly.
"It it just is spooky how little most people know of how the world works," he said. "Some of us scientists should be addressing that problem.
"Science is real jargonicism. We need people willing to speak in Bud and Ethel's sophistication of English, to tell them what we're doing."
Holmes has been teaching at the University of Kansas since 1980. In a few months he expects to finish his dissertation. He is uncertain about what he will do after that.
He works at the Museum of Natural History in Dyche Hall, which should make him feel at home. Fossils, seashells, bones and shrubbery stock the shelves of Holmes' house, and a pair of large whale bones appear to stand guard on both sides of his front door.
Holmes said that when he was young, he wanted to become a scientist, but now he would rather be a teacher.
"I would be content to be a T.A. (teaching assistant) for the rest of my life," he said. If the University offered him a full-time position educating children at the museum, he said, he would give up research
Holmes said that he liked teaching because he is good at it and that he preferred teaching to conducting research.
"In my whole life, only 20 people will read my dissertation," Holmss said. "I want a bigger audience.
"Scientists need some interface to communicate their work to the people who are paying for it."
The natural sciences are too important to be handled by the usual didactic practices, which Holmes said were often characterized by teachers who speak in monotone and teach without concern for showing the relevance of scientific material to the
outside world.
"In the study of life, the teacher should be alive." he said.
Holmes said that he didn't like orthodox teaching methods.
"I just fix it so my class is not an onerous experience," he said. "Getting the students to show up is half the battle. The trick is to make the information interesting so they'll suck it up. You've got to sneak around. It's kind of like Walt Disney."
"A lot of people view introductory biology as a cut course. I'm a teacher, not a cutter."
Holmes tells his students not to be intimidated by his status and that the only difference between himself and them is that he is in graduate school.
When teaching, he translates biological information into parables of rhetoric that students can easily relate to. In Holmes' class, animals, plants, cells, and chemicals all come to life and often speak.
For example, a bony fish sensing the presence of a starfish — a predator — says, "Uh-oh, I better get out of here."
The pine trees produce "turpins" — liquids that function as both
insect repellent - also "bandworms"
Holmes tries to make the objects of his teaching both interesting and logically sound.
Dorothy Scott, biological sciences secretary, said that Holmes treated all of his students as friends.
"The students love him," she said,
"he has a way of dealing with you.
He does not carry his degree on his shoulders. He's an even Steven man. If he has a problem, you'll never know it, because he always greets you by asking how you are — how 'you' are.
"He has the most smashing, vibrant personality. He hasn't changed in the three years I've known him."
Scott said students had told her that Holmes treated them as if they were as important a part of the class as he was.
Holmes' students generally perform well on the tests administered to all the introductory biology classes, he said. Out of 37 students in one semester, 19 received A's.
In addition to classroom activities, Holmes welcomes telephone calls at home on nights before tests — the "biology hotline," as he calls it. He also takes his students on a field trip to the Topeka Zoo and a trip to the banks of the Kansas River.
"I've tricked a lot of people into thinking I'm responsible for their effort," he said. "As far as I know, ever since I've been teaching, my students have been performing better on the average."
Behind the humorous facade and facts of interest, Holmes tries to give his students serious messages and warnings about the world.
"Everybody should have a picture of the planet Earth, taken from the moon, in their kitchen," he said.