Portrait of a

FIRST LADY

Arriving in Chestertown in 1950 with her
husband and three young children, installed in a huge
drafty old house miles from any big city,
First Lady Helen Gibson cried for a month.
Then she thought, as Eleanor Roosevelt once wrote:
“It is better to light a candle than to curse the darkness.”

Catching a glimpse of the lanky English professor named Daniel Gibson walking through the dining room at Cincinnati University, a young Conservatory student of piano had a flash of premonition.
“That’s the man I’m going to marry.”
Helen hadn’t a clue, though, that she and Daniel Gibson would find their way to a tiny college and shape it into a modern post-war institution of national respectability.
It wasn’t love at first sight so much as an instinctual response to a man who would be her life-long companion and partner. Even now, long after the two had packed up and moved out of the Hynson-Ringgold House following a 20-year stint as President and First Lady of Washington College, Helen Gibson often comes home eager to share some bit of news with him. Then she remembers. Daniel’s been dead since 1984.
“We did everything together; we loved being together. I felt I lost my best friend when he died.”
From the formal oil portrait hanging over her grand piano, a vibrant Daniel Z. Gibson looks pensive, as if he is apologizing for becoming ill with Parkinson’s disease and leaving her alone. Together—in those years from 1950-1970—they had weathered storms of discontent and political quagmires on campus,
civil unrest in the community, and Vietnam War protests that touched even Washington College. Throughout it all, they remained steadfast in their devotion to each other and to Washington College.
Those with long-term institutional memories agree that what the Gibsons did together in the course of their 20 years at the helm of Washington College significantly shaped the institution. It was a period of unprecedented growth and program development. Buildings were erected. Enrollment doubled, as did the size of the faculty. Endowment grew from a paltry $100,000 to $2,500,000. (Today it’s $95 million.) Most importantly, Washington College’s academic reputation was greatly enhanced.
Helen Gibson says her husband’s greatest legacy was strengthening the intellectual environment of Washington College. He considered the faculty to be the lifeblood of the institution. He endeavored to engage them in intellectual discourse, and sought out their company socially as well. With virtually no money to pay for visiting speakers, the President hosted monthly faculty seminars, where he would ask faculty members to speak on various topics. Gibson revamped the curriculum—adding music, drama and art—and established the four-course plan that today distinguishes Washington College

(CONTINUED ON p. 18)

Washington College Magazine - Spring 99 16


Back
TOC
Forward