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Fall 2007 Vol. VI, No. 1
AUB Reflections
“Aren’t you Dr. Slade?”
Landry Slade arrived in Beirut to teach chemistry in 1960; he later served as associate dean from 1974 until his departure from Lebanon in June 1985. When Dean Elie Salem became Lebanese foreign minister in 1982, Slade served as acting dean until the appointment of Loutfy Diab as dean in 1984; he then served as assistant to the president until 1985. Back in the New York Office, Slade continued as assistant to Presidents Calvin Plimpton, Frederick Herter, and Robert Haddad. Of his years in the New York Office, Slade said, “Although I was officially assistant to the president, I was actually more the assistant director of the New York Office and secretary of the Board of Trustees. . . Administering by long distance was difficult, and that’s why the custom developed of going as often as three times a year to the Middle East, mostly to Cyprus.”
MG: When did you first arrive at AUB, and what were your
first impressions?
I came in September 1960. I remember being met at the dock by John Saba,
(then assistant to the director of housing) and coming through town with
him in his pick-up truck. My wife Virginia followed in an AUB car with
our daughter, Lyell, and some of our luggage. Over the radio came the
voice of Fairouz, which I later came to appreciate very much.
The beauty of the campus struck me immediately. I thought my campus at
the University of Virginia (UVA) was one of the more beautiful in the
United States, and it is, but AUB was very different—spectacularly beautiful
and tranquil, because, perhaps, of the Mediterranean Sea.
MG: Was this your first teaching job?
Yes. But I had done some laboratory instruction at UVA.
MG: What differences did you notice between AUB and UVA students?
Certainly the Lebanese students were less well prepared in chemistry,
but that was simply because they had not had laboratory experience in
high school. They were more serious, more interested, better motivated,
and worked harder. Just a pleasure to work with.
Teaching in an American university system I was familiar with, I had a
much easier row to hoe than students from the French educational system.
But language was never really a problem in chemistry. We didn’t have to
talk down to the students, and they managed very well. Language was never
an issue.
MG: Where did you teach most of your classes?
I was in Old Chemistry from 1960 until February 1968, when New Chemistry
opened. In the old building the labs were okay, but not very sophisticated.
But we had no significant problems in those early years.
MG: During your years at AUB, what were the biggest changes?
Slade: Before ’75 the biggest change came with the move to New Chemistry
in 1968 and the sudden transition to much better facilities for lectures,
laboratories, and equipment for upper division courses. We had instrumentation
that hadn’t existed at AUB before.
In 1974 I gave up teaching to become associate dean under Dean of Arts
and Sciences Elie Salem. He wanted me to teach one course a semester,
but that just didn’t work. I was not giving justice to the course or to
the dean. So I was a full-time administrator after that. I loved teaching,
but I was ready for a change. Since I’d always enjoyed administrative
work, I accepted the new position with delight.
But the biggest changes came with the war, of course. Increasingly from
1975 to 1985 the fine details of how we did things were submerged and
it became more just a matter of staying afloat.
The strife in Lebanon was not constant—if it had been, it would have been
impossible to sustain the University. The bad times alternated with some
near normal times. My wife and I frequently took Volkswagon van-loads
of children to the ski slopes.
But the dangers were very real. Students and faculty members often had
difficulty reaching the University. Some lost their lives. In Faculty
I, under the illusion that the hallway was a safe spot, my family and
I slept there in sleeping bags one night. Shrapnel punched through the
dining room window and three pieces landed near our feet. One day when
I was sitting at my desk in the dean’s office, a stray bullet entered
so fast through the window opposite, that it left only a neat, round hole—the
glass did not shatter.
Getting in and out of the country was full of surprises. The plane I took
out to Jordan was hijacked two days in a row. I never returned to the
University.
Perhaps the most difficult ongoing problem for the University was the
slow, continual drain on the faculty as individuals reached their tolerance
level and left the country. Finding qualified replacements became harder
and harder as the years dragged on. But those who stayed did wonderful
work and were a major force in keeping the University open.
MG: What do you remember about your students, and what would they remember
most about you, your classes, and your teaching?
I developed a reputation from one large, loud, good student who later
went on to medical school. He began counting the number of times I said
“now” in a lecture. I was appalled when I realized that at the beginning
of every sentence I emitted a rather long, drawn out “Now. . .w. . .w.”
He delivered this information with great pleasure.
I thoroughly enjoyed teaching and lecturing, and the students caught that.
When they realized I was having a good time, then they had a good time
too.
I taught Qualitative Organic Analysis. Now that sounds terribly sophisticated,
but it was a course in which each student was given at the beginning of
the semester a half dozen chemical compounds to identify. They had some
basic rules to follow, but it was really independent research. It was
always very exciting and fun for the students because it was a challenge.
They could forget they were aiming for a grade. I loved that course, and
so did the students.
I have to mention the very rewarding six or seven years I spent as adviser
to the premedical students—a bright, happy group of young men and
women I came to know very well, both as a group and individually. My work
with them was really one of the high points of my career.
MG: Do you keep in touch with your students?
No, I don’t. Not on a regular basis. I left rather precipitously
during the war, and never returned to work at AUB in Beirut. But many
medical students have come to this country as residents, and young doctors
are constantly coming up to me and asking, “Aren’t you Dr. Slade?”
MG: What was the impact of AUB on your life?
AUB was my entire professional career. I came to Beirut straight out of
graduate school, and I retired from AUB in 1995. The impact was very major
indeed.
MG: Given the fact that it was your whole professional life, was it
very distressing to have to pull up and leave when you did?
At the outset, we thought we would be going back very soon. We held on
to our apartment in Faculty II for two years, and only then did we come
to grips with reality and realize that we weren’t going back any
time soon. Sadly, we arranged to have things packed up and shipped.
Working in the New York Office, I still felt totally immersed in the affairs
of the University, especially with the many meetings in the Middle East
with members of the administration on the ground in Lebanon. We needed
to keep the University open in the worst of times.
MG: Do you have anything to say to your former students?
I recollect how much fun it was. I would tell them just what a pleasure
it was to teach them. There was a measure of pleasure in it all which
came as something of a surprise to me, and I don’t think that’s
universal. Discipline problems, like those in the United States in the
’60s, just did not exist. Lebanese students were highly motivated—the
pre-med students perhaps over motivated—but they were a very bright
bunch to work with. In the US we wouldn’t have had the same relationship
with students. I looked forward to every lecture and lab session. I liked
the AUB students.
Getting in and out of the country was full of surprises.
The plane I took out to Jordan was hijacked two days in a row. I never
returned to the University.
The bad times alternated with some near normal times.
My wife and I frequently took Volkswagon van-loads of children to the
ski slopes.
I have to mention the very rewarding six or seven years I spent as adviser
to the premedical students—my work with them was really one of the
high points of my career.
The Campaign for Excellence
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of AUB rests on the shoulders of its alumni.”
Norma and Michel Slim (BA ’50, MD ’54) | Rye, New York | Donors
since 1986
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