Jane Briggs Ford ('78)

Laura Kipp ('78)

Scott Beistel ('79)

Walter Wilson ('79)

Patsy Eakin Williams ('78)

Roger Wells ('77)

Dwayne Yancey ('79)

As a junior at JMU in 1977, Jane Briggs Ford ('78) did not like the idea of her Madison College becoming a university. "I don't like it," she said decisively when asked about it by a Breeze reporter. "I think it's growing too fast." After 25 years however, "I have a more positive opinion," the sociology and social work graduate says. "In the long run, it has given a good school well-deserved recognition." Ford, who admits she was "within a heartbeat of going to William and Mary to study history," says the university status is a "benefit to those who've been there." Looking back, she says, "I thought [Madison College] was a great place. I wish I could go back and do it again, because it was so much fun." She adds: "Some of the best friends I have, I have because of JMU."

Presumably, that includes husband, John Robert Ford ('79M), whom she met while he was a graduate student in music education and a graduate assistant to the band director. Today Ford is a manager for information technology at Sallie Mae. The Fords live in Round Hill, Va.

Laura Kipp ('78), a business administration major, was ambivalent about the change in 1977: "I would have no objections, but they have a housing problem. If they could take care of that …" she told The Breeze. Kipp was a member of the swing class, whose members had the option of choosing whether their diplomas would read Madison College or James Madison University. "I'm glad they gave us a choice. I love Madison College," she says. "It's still my Madison." Although Kipp, today a management analyst with the U.S. Department of Education, chose the Madison College diploma and went on to earn a graduate degree from George Washington University, she holds a sentimental attachment to her alma mater.
"I still keep in touch with my two roommates," she says, as she remembers living in Chandler Hall, which was the university's first coeducational residence hall. It was, she says, "more well-behaved than the regular dorms."

Much of her college memorabilia, however, Kipp lost to insects. "Bugs ate up all my college yearbooks. I had to throw them out. I just felt like I was throwing my life away." But her memories are still intact: She recalls water balloon fights between dorms and streakers. "I … remember walking between buildings thinking, Will I ever get out of here?"

Twenty-five years later, though, she has plenty of memories and a new alumni ring. While in school, she couldn't afford the sapphire class ring she wanted, so she didn't get one. Years later, however, she jumped at the chance to buy an alumni ring: "James Madison University," it reads in small print. "I even wore it today."

In 1977, friends Scott Beistel ('79) and Walter Wilson III ('79) weren't sure about the name change. At the time, they had more immediate concerns: "Laundry service is inadequate," they chorused in The Breeze. "D-Hall is overcrowded, and the quality of food has not improved in conjunction with the name change." Twenty-five years later, however, "I'm in favor of it now," Beistel says. "It really helped put Madison on the map."
Living in the Northern Virginia area, Beistel, a graduate of the fine arts program in design, is a computer graphics specialist for the U.S. government and still keeps in touch with Wilson, an attorney with Stewart Title Guaranty in Richmond.

Wilson, a former political science major, spends a lot of time going up and down I-81 and has watched the transformation of the college to a major university. "I didn't realize it at the time, but to be known as a university is so important. It is more than just a name. It gives us status. … Now they have programs that weren't even dreamed about then."

Wilson, an avid sports fan, has remained interested in the fortunes of the Dukes on their respective athletics fields. "When I was there," he says, "I was involved in everything - basketball, football, women's rugby, intramurals." Whenever there was an event, Wilson was there. Today, living in the Richmond area, he gets to games as often as he can. And maybe, he adds, "I guess I should go back and check out D-Hall. When we had steak night, that was a big deal. Now I believe they have 18 choices."

John McLaren ('77) was a senior when Madison College became James Madison University. At the time he told The Breeze, "It's a good idea, but it won't make any difference to me. My diploma's still going to read Madison College." With his degree in business administration, John, with two other men, owns an investment bank in the Boston area. "I'll be very honest," he says of the university today. Madison College versus JMU - it's all the same place. People don't know Madison College." Although he's only been back to the campus once in the past 10 years, he still remembers what drew him to JMU in the first place. "Are you kidding? … Three girls to every guy. Great odds."

Patsy Eakin Williams ('78) remembers clearly when Madison College became a university. "I was in summer school during the change, and there was a big party. I was there," she says. It was a change that Williams favored from the very beginning. When interviewed by The Breeze, she said the new name "made it a lot better. University status has changed the way outsiders look at the school. The athletics program and the quality of education have improved." And according to Williams, the improvement has continued. "It has become incredibly well known. I am very proud of saying I graduated from JMU," she says today. "JMU is constantly changing, constantly improving, keeping up with the times. It makes my degree more valuable. It means something to have gone to JMU." Williams, an accountant with Carillion, lives in Roanoke with her two children and her husband, Mike ('79), who, like his wife, is an accountant and a former Duke.

Roger Wells ('77) was The Breeze editor when Madison College became James Madison University. "It was," he recalls, "a very creative time at JMU." Even though The Breeze traditionally had an appropriately skeptical attitude about many issues, he says, "this was the first time The Breeze had endorsed Dr. Carrier's vision. … It was so clearly the right thing to do. For all intents and purposes, Madison College was a university."

Wells, who is an investor, president of JRL Inc. and manages a private charitable organization, splits his time between his Oak Hill Farms in Botetourt County, Va., and Texas. However, he has found time to return to the campus. After graduating in 1977 with a B.S. in communication arts and a stint with the Roanoke Times, he taught journalism at JMU for a year. Later he lived in Wales and did postgraduate work at Oxford. "Last November," he says, "I walked through the campus. It was astonishing the memories it evoked. It was as if I could remember the turns in the woodwork of Wilson Hall, the feel of the pavement on campus. It's hard to believe," he adds, "that the current students weren't even born when the change came."

In 1977, Dwayne Yancey ('79), then an editorial writer for The Breeze, brought a distinctly historical perspective to the university's name change. In a series of articles, Yancey described how the school's eponym, Mr. Madison, might have reacted had he visited the campus. "U.Va. always called on the ghost of Mr. Jefferson," Yancey remembers today from his desk at The Roanoke Times, where he is assistant managing editor. "Let's have some fun and invoke the ghost of James Madison."

And indeed, a presidential review might have been appropriate for a change that would signal an ascent toward a national reputation. "It was," Yancey remembers, "a time of great expectation … it was growing … buildings were sprouting up everywhere. It was a time of change - enrollment, programs, buildings, parking problems. The name change helped confirm and move [the school] to a different ranking." It reflected an attitude present and a metamorphosis in progress. "It was a rite of passage," he says. "It's hard to imagine the name not being changed."

Story by Martha Graham