Albeitz was part of historic era
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From The Columbus High School Log
Wilbur Albeitz, at his desk early in his career as dean of boys at Columbus High School, was remembered this week by friends as strong and supportive. The veteran educator died earlier this week at his retirement home in Florida at the age of 85.
FOR one remarkable decade in the 1950s and early ’60s, Wilbur Albeitz was one of the most important people in the city of Columbus.
He was Columbus High School’s ticket manager.
It was not an easy job, which might explain why he got it in his first year as a local educator. It was 1952, and I imagine teachers more senior to him wanted no part of the hassle that went with the duties.
That was when the Bull Dogs were playing basketball at the old Pearl Street Gym. Tickets to games, especially season tickets, were cherished possessions. Pearl Street Gym was extremely small and once the student body was seated, there wasn’t a whole lot of room for anyone else. What seats were available usually had to be distributed through a ticket draw. Hundreds, even thousands of fans, left the draw ticket-less.
In a way, that span as ticket manager serves as an illustration of the man Wilbur was to become.
Phil Houston, who years later would replace Wilbur as principal at Columbus East High School, recalled a story recounted by his friend.
Wilbur was manning the door to the Pearl Street Gym for one very important game that drew attention from throughout central Indiana. The crowd was huge, so huge that more people had gotten into the gym than there was room for.
“Wilbur said that the place was filled before the opening tip-off and at one point he was approached by the local fire marshal,” Houston said. “The man told him there were too many people and the gym had to be emptied.”
Ticket managers don’t like to hear such things, so Wilbur called on his principal — the legendary Jud Erne — to negotiate a compromise with the fire marshal. The negotiations worked. The marshal returned and told Wilbur the gym didn’t need to be emptied but Wilbur had to give his word that he would not admit another person.
“Wouldn’t you know that the first ticket holder to come up to the door after that was none other than J. Irwin Miller,” Phil said, referring to one of the most fervent Bull Dog fans in town who also happened to be chairman of what was then called Cummins Engine Co. “I think it says a lot about Wilbur that he had the courage to tell Mr. Miller he couldn’t let him into the game.”
Phil hesitated a moment after that and then added, “It also says a lot about Mr. Miller that he told Wilbur he understood, turned and left the gym.”
That incident was only one snippet in Wilbur Albeitz’s life which ended earlier this week at his retirement home in Florida.
It said a lot about the man and the time and community in which he lived.
Although he would later serve 15 years as an administrator in a school corporation that had been divided into two high schools, Wilbur is memorable to many people around here for the first 20 years in his career, the ones spent when it was just Columbus High School.
Things were a lot simpler pre-1972 when the over-crowded conditions at the 25th Street school forced the division.
Necessary as the split was, it still closed a chapter on a period of unity that has not been seen around here since.
“There was a sense of collegiality in the school at that time,” recalled one of Wilbur’s contemporaries, Leroy Nelson, who would later have the rare distinction of having served as principal at both East and North. “There was this whole group of characters gathered in one place who were basically held together by one man, Jud Erne.”
Jud’s name is still fresh in a lot of people’s minds. Tens of thousands of local residents had him as their principal. He headed the one high school from 1949 to 1972 and assembled around him a pretty unique staff.
Each of them had their own individual stories and characteristics. Some of them, like basketball coach Bill Stearman and his football counterpart Max Andress, are still regarded as legends but that was due in large part to their success in sports. There were also memorable teachers like Neal Carmichael, Alta Redmond, George Utterback, Evelyn Seward, Elwyn Brown, Shirley Lyster, Marion Callan, Art Taylor, Josephine Armuth, Mel Harrison, C.G. Addleman and Nelson.
Jud inherited some of them but in the end, they were essentially all one.
Wilbur Albeitz was always in the center of things.
His job as ticket manager was actually a sideline. He started as a math and physics teacher but eventually became dean of boys.
Don Reed, who joined the high school staff in 1963, knew Wilbur for that role.
When he called Tuesday morning to tell me of Wilbur’s death, I asked if he knew of others who might have insights on the former administrator.
He laughed and said, “I suspect you could get some interesting perspectives from any of the boys who might have been called into his office.”
Funny thing is, that’s just about the same thing LeRoy Nelson said.
“Wilbur didn’t mince words or try to soft soap things,” LeRoy said. “He told things as he saw them. He was strong and he had high expectations for those kids but I was always struck by the number who were called into his office and came through for him in the end.”
When he took on a different administrative role as assistant principal at the new high school in 1972, Wilbur brought with him the expertise of experience.
It not only served him well but those who worked with him.
“I know that I depended on him heavily,” said Phil Houston who took on full time duties as principal at East in 1977. “It seemed like in those days we were going from crisis to crisis and there were times that I just felt overwhelmed. Wilbur had this ability to help me work through each of them. No matter what was going on or how dire it seemed, he was very calm and would tell me about similar experiences he had had in his past. The upshot to all of those recollections was that we would get through this. Sure enough, we always did.”
A lot of people around Columbus today will probably not recognize Wilbur’s name. They came along well after he had retired in 1987. I’m sure that they have had teachers and principals that they remember fondly from their own youth.
But Wilbur was part of a unique time and a unique set of characters in this community.
Those who experienced that time and those characters will know what I mean when I describe it all as “special.”
Harry McCawley is associate editor of The Republic. He can be reached by phone at 379-5620 or email at harry@therepublic.com.
“Wouldn’t you know that the first ticket holder to come up to the door after that was none other than J. Irwin Miller,” Phil said, referring to one of the most fervent Bull Dog fans in town who also happened to be chairman of what was then called Cummins Engine Co. “I think it says a lot about Wilbur that he had the courage to tell Mr. Miller he couldn’t let him into the game.”
Phil hesitated a moment after that and then added, “It also says a lot about Mr. Miller that he told Wilbur he understood, turned and left the gym.”
That incident was only one snippet in Wilbur Albeitz’s life which ended earlier this week at his retirement home in Florida.
It said a lot about the man and the time and community in which he lived.
Although he would later serve 15 years as an administrator in a school corporation that had been divided into two high schools, Wilbur is memorable to many people around here for the first 20 years in his career, the ones spent when it was just Columbus High School.
Things were a lot simpler pre-1972 when the over-crowded conditions at the 25th Street school forced the division.
Necessary as the split was, it still closed a chapter on a period of unity that has not been seen around here since.
“There was a sense of collegiality in the school at that time,” recalled one of Wilbur’s contemporaries, Leroy Nelson, who would later have the rare distinction of having served as principal at both East and North. “There was this whole group of characters gathered in one place who were basically held together by one man, Jud Erne.”
Jud’s name is still fresh in a lot of people’s minds. Tens of thousands of local residents had him as their principal. He headed the one high school from 1949 to 1972 and assembled around him a pretty unique staff.
Each of them had their own individual stories and characteristics. Some of them, like basketball coach Bill Stearman and his football counterpart Max Andress, are still regarded as legends but that was due in large part to their success in sports. There were also memorable teachers like Neal Carmichael, Alta Redmond, George Utterback, Evelyn Seward, Elwyn Brown, Shirley Lyster, Marion Callan, Art Taylor, Josephine Armuth, Mel Harrison, C.G. Addleman and Nelson.
Jud inherited some of them but in the end, they were essentially all one.
Wilbur Albeitz was always in the center of things.
His job as ticket manager was actually a sideline. He started as a math and physics teacher but eventually became dean of boys.
Don Reed, who joined the high school staff in 1963, knew Wilbur for that role.
When he called Tuesday morning to tell me of Wilbur’s death, I asked if he knew of others who might have insights on the former administrator.
He laughed and said, “I suspect you could get some interesting perspectives from any of the boys who might have been called into his office.”
Funny thing is, that’s just about the same thing LeRoy Nelson said.
“Wilbur didn’t mince words or try to soft soap things,” LeRoy said. “He told things as he saw them. He was strong and he had high expectations for those kids but I was always struck by the number who were called into his office and came through for him in the end.”
When he took on a different administrative role as assistant principal at the new high school in 1972, Wilbur brought with him the expertise of experience.
It not only served him well but those who worked with him.
“I know that I depended on him heavily,” said Phil Houston who took on full time duties as principal at East in 1977. “It seemed like in those days we were going from crisis to crisis and there were times that I just felt overwhelmed. Wilbur had this ability to help me work through each of them. No matter what was going on or how dire it seemed, he was very calm and would tell me about similar experiences he had had in his past. The upshot to all of those recollections was that we would get through this. Sure enough, we always did.”
A lot of people around Columbus today will probably not recognize Wilbur’s name. They came along well after he had retired in 1987. I’m sure that they have had teachers and principals that they remember fondly from their own youth.
But Wilbur was part of a unique time and a unique set of characters in this community.
Those who experienced that time and those characters will know what I mean when I describe it all as “special.”
Harry McCawley is associate editor of The Republic. He can be reached by phone at 379-5620 or email at harry@therepublic.com.
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