Emma Lommasson

Long ago this writer was given assistance by Emma Lommasson when guidance was not so easy to get at U of M. I can attest to the accuracy of the numerous testimonies that have been given for her.  She is a credit to the University of Montana and to Missoula. Thanks, Emma.

Don Gilder

  

Emma, Bravó!

By Betsy Holmquist

Countless stories surround Emma Bravo Lommasson ’33, M.S. ’39. Nearly ninety-three years of them. And Emma tells some of the best. This endearing and enduring woman, whose presence at UM spans more than seventy years, still cannot believe that a building on campus—the Emma B. Lommasson Center (formerly the Lodge)—is named in her honor. Emma will tell you that she just did her job. That she worked hard. And, along the way, tried to make other people happy. “Isn’t that the way,” she says, “that you keep happy in life?”

 

In 1942 a thirty-one-year-old Emma was hired to teach navigation and civil air regulations to future Air Force pilots stationed on the UM campus—subjects she knew nothing about. Emma stayed ahead of her students by studying all day for the two-hour nightly classes. “I’d never even been in an airplane,” she admits. “I worked hard, trying to imagine what it was like to fly.” One wintry day the orders came to take her up. “All my boys came to the airport,” she says. “They put a flight suit on me, the helmet, the goggles. I was just ready to step into the plane when they attached a parachute to my chest. ‘Do you know how to work a parachute?’ someone asked. ‘No,’ I replied, ‘Who cares?’” Emma climbed into the open cockpit behind pilot Frank Wiley. He gave her an instruction: “When you start to get sick and want to go down, pat your head.” Up they went. Wiley put the plane through all possible maneuvers. The ground and mountains were covered in snow. The sky was white. Emma didn’t know if she was right side up or upside down. But she never patted her head. After they landed, Emma faced one more challenge—she had to drink a cup of coffee and eat a piece of pie to prove she wasn’t airsick. Emma had never been a coffee drinker, still isn’t. But she drank a cup and ate a piece of pie in front of all the men. “The next night,” she says, “ I knew I was a much better teacher.”

Emma was always hard on herself, a trait that allowed her to put pressure on others she felt could do better. One year a transfer student from Custer County Community College fell under Emma’s scrutiny when she noticed that his straight “A” record was marred by a “B” in a Spanish course. “Emma was crushed and I know felt much worse about the B than I did, and I felt badly,” this former student reports. “She spent some time consoling me and urging me to get the string going again. I made it to graduation the following spring with one more B. Despite these two B’s, Emma congratulated me for doing well, and cautioned me to sustain the effort as I went off to graduate school. Nearly thirty years later,” President George Dennison continues, “Emma welcomed me back to campus as president almost as if she had expected that to happen.”

President Dennison’s current home was Emma’s residence for a time when she was a student. Then, 1325 Gerald was owned by Dr. N.J. Lennes, the head of UM’s math department. He employed Emma as an assistant for his math classes and she lived with Dr. and Mrs. Lennes and Marie, “the maid,” as she was called by Mrs. Lennes. Marie and Emma were the same age and wanted to be friends. Mrs. Lennes preferred that the girls kept their distance. Emma was learning to roller skate and one summer evening invited Marie outside to try it herself. Unfortunately, Marie fell and hurt her arm. Mrs. Lennes was livid. The girls were forbidden to ever talk again. “But,” Emma explains,” we’d open our upstairs windows and talk to each other that way.”

Emma worked hard for Dr. Lennes, teaching a class for him each quarter, correcting his tests, and editing his math workbooks. One quarter she taught all his classes. “I learned a lot from him,” she quickly adds, always admitting that the harder she worked, the more she learned and the better person she became.

From her youngest days, Emma worked hard. She was the first woman from Sand Coulee, Montana, to attend UM. The oldest of three girls born to Italian immigrants, Emma spoke only Italian until first grade. “I learned English properly,” Emma says, of her first year in school. “My teacher would write the words I needed to learn on the board and make me pronounce them until I got them right. I struggled with those ‘th’ sounds.” As with most struggles she’s encountered, Emma triumphed. Her English is flawless. And, she still speaks and reads Italian.

When she was seventeen, Emma boarded the train for the overnight journey to Missoula and the State University of Montana. A resident of North Hall that fall of 1929, she soon became a senior assistant to the housemother, Mrs. Brantly. Emma led the girls into the dining room—now the Presidents Room of Brantly Hall—each day for lunch and dinner. The girls dressed for meals. A host and hostess sat at each table. There were tablecloths and linen napkins. “We learned manners!” Emma declares and fondly recalls the frequent visits of Mary Clapp, the wife of Charles H. Clapp, UM’s fifth president. Mrs. Clapp came to teach the coeds etiquette and Emma was a rapt pupil. To this day Emma can eat a piece of chicken without touching it with her fingers—thanks to Mrs. Clapp. “I never have chicken without thinking of her,” Emma laughs. “We respected her. She impressed me a lot.”

By her senior year, Emma was deeply involved in campus activities. In the 1933 Sentinel yearbook a serious Emma Bravo appears in the photos for Mortar Board and the governing body of the Associated Non-Fraternity and Non-Sorority students. Her erect posture, thick, wavy hair, dark eyebrows, and prominent cheek and jawbones quickly catch the viewer’s eye.

A slight grin appears on Emma’s face in the Hi-Jinx Committee photo. That year she had managed “Must We Go On,” a musical revue of take-offs on campus life. Emma presided over May Fête activities that year, too, as Queen of the May.

Emma received a bachelor’s degree in math from UM in 1933 and returned to Sand Coulee for six years to teach. She remembers her first day teaching high school algebra. “I looked at my students and said, ‘You’re all going to like algebra when I’m done teaching you.’ I wanted them so to like it. At the end of the year one student came to me and admitted he just didn’t like algebra. I told him I understood completely, but that I admired him so for trying. I learned from that experience that you can work hard with a student, but if it’s not in their nature, they’re just not going to get it.” This sense of compassion and acceptance of the difficulties others face came early to Emma and allowed her to offer reassurance without judgment to countless people along the way.

“You were my role model from the very beginning,” a former Angel Flight member related to Emma just a few years ago. Emma was the sponsor for this Air Force ROTC drill team for eighteen years and had worried all that time that the girls thought her a “fuddy-duddy.” Emma admits to interceding several times for girls who were too frightened to go before the Dean of Women, Maurine Clow, in the ’60s and ’70s “Why aren’t you the Dean of Women?” she was frequently asked.

Dick Joy ’54 from London, Ontario, Canada, remembers meeting Emma when he was thirteen years old. Joy’s father worked with Emma’s husband, Tom, in the U.S. Forest Service and one evening the Lommassons invited the Joy family to dinner. “Her flashing eyes,” Joy recalls, “her dark-haired beauty really made an impression on me.” When he returned to campus as a student six years later, Emma was the assistant registrar. “She took the sons and daughters of Forest Service employees under her wing,” Joy says. “We could go to her office in the old men’s gym any time we had questions or needed help.” This past May at Joy’s fiftieth class reunion, he proudly escorted Emma Lommasson to his table at his class banquet. Many of his classmates, now in their early seventies, came by to pay her tribute.

Students who worked with Emma often learned more than their jobs required. UM’s Associate Registrar Laura Wolverton Carlyon ’63, M.P.A. ’87, began working for Emma at ninety cents an hour while a college freshman in 1960. She continued working for Emma, who was then assistant registrar, throughout college, even during the summers. Following graduation, Carlyon left Missoula, returning several years later, married and expecting her second baby. She wanted to work on campus, in the registrar’s office, if possible. Emma interviewed her for a secretarial position posted by Registrar Leo Smith. She told Carlyon that Leo wouldn’t hire her because she was pregnant. “I’ll hire you,” Emma said and she did. Carlyon was soon back on staff and still is today. “Emma always appreciated a hard worker,” she says, “and she never fired anyone. If someone was not up to par, they just knew it. They went away. Emma had a way of getting them to leave. She never raised her voice. She was always a lady.” Carlyon doesn’t remember Emma ever taking a coffee break either. “People always came over to see her,” she recalls. “She couldn’t leave.”

Ruth Rollins Brocklebank ’67 keeps handy a poem Emma gave her forty years ago when she worked for Emma in the registrar’s office. “It typifies her view about life and work,” Ruth believes:

A horse can’t pull while kicking
This fact we merely mention,
And he can’t kick while pulling,
Which is our chief contention.
Let’s imitate the good horse
And lead a life that’s fitting;
Just pull an honest load, and then
There’ll be no time for kicking.

“Mrs. L. is amazing,” Brocklebank says. “She remains interested in life—is a great advocate for education—encourages people to improve. She has been a source of inspiration for me since my meeting her.”

Karen Smith Temple, currently an internal auditor at UM, received many life lessons from Emma when she worked for her in the 1970s. “Emma was one of the first people to see the importance of a woman keeping her identity, of not being Mrs. John Doe, but of being Mrs. Jane Doe,” Temple says. She still thanks Emma for showing her how to write a letter of introduction she would use later when job searching in a new state. Emma’s sage advice, “It’s important to introduce yourself,” has stayed with Temple throughout the years. She fondly remembers a gift of plum trees from Emma’s yard when she and her husband needed help with landscaping. “I don’t know how she knew we needed trees,” Temple muses. “Emma just knew.”

Emma lives in a beautifully furnished third-floor apartment at the Village Senior Residence near Fort Missoula. She paid rent for a year before she could move in to make sure she got the spot. “It’s the farthest walk from the elevators and stairs,” she explains. “ I have a view of Mount Jumbo every day, and when the trees are bare, I can see Mount Sentinel.” Baskets of letters hug the end of her couch, bundled according to their arrival at Christmas, her birthday, or Mother’s Day. Although she has no children of her own, countless University “children” send her greetings on many occasion. She answers them all. In her spare bedroom is a computer. Emma has discovered e-mail.

An autographed photo is taped to a kitchen cupboard door. “To the best lookin’ gal in the building! With love, Monte,” it proclaims. A bobblehead Monte stands nearby. A large stuffed bear greets visitors in Emma’s entryway. Her University and Grizzly ties are reflected in the many awards, photographs, and plaques on her walls. Emma is happy about Don Read returning to campus, and that “her” boys—Krysko and Tinkle—will be coaching basketball this winter. “Until two years ago I’d attended all Griz and Lady Griz basketball games,” Emma says. “I was the oldest attendee at all the Griz football games, too.” Last season Emma missed three Griz football games. She’d been out walking, fell, and broke her hip. Her recovery was quick and complete, but she’s given up her Griz football tickets this year and will watch the games on TV.

“I don’t want to be a burden to anyone,” she says, and doesn’t understand, “what all the fuss is about.” Quick to credit others and deflect attention from herself, she still worries that “I just might do something that would make me not be the same woman walking out of a room that I was walking into it.”

That’s not yet happened. Most likely it won’t. When Emma Lommasson leaves a room, or a building, or an institution she leaves it a better place. And most often someone seeing her leave will openly admit, “I want to be just like her when I’m her age” (really meaning “just like her, right now!”).

“I’ve known all but the first four University presidents, Emma Lommasson quietly states. “There’s no one else who can say this.”

Betsy Brown Holmquist ’67, M.A. ’83, is a writer/editor for the UM Alumni Association She has known Emma Lommasson since her undergraduate years at UM and admits to wanting to be like Emma, too.

 

Long-serving UM alumnus Lommasson to celebrate 100th

November 23, 2011 10:30 pm  •  By CHELSI MOY of the Missoulian

The public is invited to wish Emma Lommasson a happy 100th birthday at a party hosted by the University of Montana on Dec. 10 from 11 a.m.-12:30 p.m. at the University Center Ballroom. Music and appetizers will be served. The program begins at 11:20 a.m. UM requests anyone interested in attending please RSVP to the president’s office by Tuesday, Dec. 6, by calling 243-2311 or at presrsvp@umontana.edu.

Donate to a scholarship

In lieu of birthday gifts, the University of Montana encourages people to donate to the Emma B. Lommasson Scholarship. The scholarship, established by Lommasson, will go to a needy Montana high school graduate. People wishing to donate to the scholarship for Lommasson’s birthday may do so by going to www.supportum.org or by contacting Vickie Mikelsons at 406-243-5110 or mikelsonsvm@mso.umt.edu.

Emma Lommasson has met every University of Montana president except the first four, all whom served prior to 1921.

So, when President Royce Engstrom took the reins of the university more than a year ago, Lommasson phoned the president’s office to request a meeting.

“We picked her up and took her out to lunch,” said Mary Engstrom, the president’s wife. “She’s just this remarkable university and community citizen.”

It’s hard to point to a more devoted and loyal UM alumnus who has served the university for as long as Lommasson, for whom the Emma B. Lommasson Center on campus is named. Of course, not many live as long as Lommasson, either.

On Dec. 10, Lommasson turns 100 and the university is throwing a birthday party in honor of the century mark. The bash is planned for the University Center Ballroom and dozens of guests are expected to attend.

Yes, Lommasson is turning 100, but she doesn’t look a day over 85, , and considers herself blessed to have her vision, mind and mobility all in tact. When asked the secret to a long and healthy life, Lommasson credits the university and its students.

“I’m used to being with young people all my life,” she said. “I spent 40 years around young people, who are so vivacious, I forgot to get old.”

The 99-year-old giggles upon answering the door to find a reporter and photographer standing on her welcome mat. She is shy, she said, and doesn’t like the attention that’s accompanied this monumental birthday – but it speaks to Lommasson’s importance to the university.

There’s a “Go Griz” flag above her door knocker, and Griz memorabilia decorates the walls of her home at the Village Senior Residence. There are birthday flowers on the counter from the registrar at the UM College of Technology.

Lommasson still hears from hundreds of former students. During a recent interview, the telephone rang. It was Engstrom calling to wish her a happy Thanksgiving.

“I’m baring my soul!” she says into the phone with a chuckle. “It’s terrible.”

When asked what the university means to her, Lommasson said: “It’s been my whole life.”

***

Lommasson has been affiliated with the university as a student, teacher, staff member, student advisor or registrar for 58 years. She enrolled at UM in 1929 and studied mathematics. Upon graduation in 1933, Lommasson returned to her hometown to teach for four years before returning to UM, taking a job as an assistant to mathematics professor N.J. Lennes, who built what would later become the presidential residence on Gerald Avenue.

For a year, Lommasson paid $30 a month to live in a bedroom on the second floor of the house.

“I felt like I was a very wealthy woman,” she said. “It was really something to live there.”

Lommasson earned her master’s degree from UM in mathematics and taught math classes. During World War II, she taught university-sponsored navigation and airplane identification classes to enlisted military men, despite having never ridden in an airplane.

“The boys would march going to class,” she said. “Those were wonderful days. The spirit was great. Students were wonderful.”

Lommasson served as the veteran’s affairs advisor in 1945 and then took a job a year later with the Registrar’s Office.

“Those were disruptive years,” Lommasson recalls, referring to the 1960s, when the campus was “full of hippies and rebellions.”

In 1973, at the age of 62, Lommasson was named registrar of the university and served in that capacity until 1977. For a decade after retirement, Lommasson continued to advise students.

Lommasson served as the 1998 homecoming grand marshall, was named one of the top 50 “Griz Greats” in 2005 and was the feature in the fall 2004 edition of the alumni magazine, The Montanan. She’s held season tickets to the Griz football games and the School of Theater and Dance performances for decades.

Even now, she still subscribes to the Montana Kaimin, the UM student newspaper.

Former university President George Dennison was a UM student when Lommasson was the registrar.

“She took great interest in students and helped many of us in so many different ways,” Dennison is quoted as saying in a 2001 university newsletter. “She helped us to realize our potential and try to achieve it.”

Dennison was one of the few straight “A” students on campus back then, Lommasson said, but she still recalls that he received a “B” in Spanish.

Of all the UM memories that Lommasson has amassed over the years, nothing is as special as when Dennison announced at a private luncheon in 2001 that the university was renaming what was called The Lodge as the Emma B. Lommasson Center.

“Oh my, oh my,” Lommasson remembers saying. “I was numb. Tears just came to my eyes. I was stunned.”

Every year, Lommasson celebrates her birthday by eating at the Food Zoo in the building that bears her name. The university chef bakes a carrot cake, her favorite.

“The university, I think, she feels is family to her,” Engstrom said. “And the university feels the same way about her.”

Rather than the student cafeteria, Lommasson will celebrate her 100th birthday in a nicer, larger venue across campus. It’s a birthday Lommasson never thought she would celebrate, but she still doesn’t understand all the fuss. Even as the big day approaches, Lommasson only has the best interests of the university in mind.

“We may have a (football) playoff game that day,” she said. “My decision was to cancel the birthday, but they won’t listen to me.”

Reporter Chelsi Moy can be reached at 523-5260 or at chelsi.moy@missoulian.com.