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IN MEMORIAM
RUDOLPH CONRAD DOENGES
Just a couple of months before
he would have celebrated his seventy-first birthday, Rudolph
Conrad Doenges passed away in Austin on September 14, 2001. He
had served with distinction as teacher, scholar, and administrator
since he and his wife, Ellen, came to The University of Texas
at Austin in fall 1964.
Conrad was born in Tonkawa, Oklahoma, on December 7, 1930, and reared in
Colorado. In an early display of his academic talent, he was valedictorian
of his Colorado Springs high school. From there he enrolled in Harvard
College, graduating magna cum laude in history in 1952. He remained in
Cambridge for another two years, earning an MBA in finance and marketing
from the Harvard Business School in 1954, which enabled him to add Beta
Gamma Sigma, Sigma Iota Epsilon, and Phi Kappa Phi memberships to his Phi
Beta Kappa key.
Following a brief stint as a marketing analyst for Ford Motor Company in
Dearborn, Michigan, he entered active duty in the Supply Corps of the U.S.
Navy. He received his officer's commission in 1955. Following the end of
active duty in 1958, he continued as a member of the U.S. Naval Reserve
until retiring with the rank of commander in 1979. The end of his period
on active duty permitted him to participate in a number of consulting and
other business activities, including his family's Colorado firms, until
he entered the graduate program of the University of Colorado in 1962.
His advanced graduate studies at CU were supported by fellowships from
both that university and the Stonier Foundation, and to complete his doctoral
work he received a Ford Foundation Dissertation Fellowship. With that background
he was attracted to The University of Texas in 1964. This was the beginning
of a mutually beneficial and congenial relationship from which he never
departed.
His advancement through the academic ranks at UT was both steady
and inevitable. He quickly earned a reputation as a superlative
teacher, whether at the
undergraduate, graduate, or executive education levels. He received the
College of Business Administration (CBA) Student Council Award in 1970;
became the first recipient in 1973 of the coveted (then and now) Joe D.
Beasley Award for Teaching Excellence in the Graduate School of Business;
was named the "Eyes of Texas" Excellence Award winner in 1991;
and was his department's nominee for too many teaching awards to list.
In 1983 he became the Arthur Andersen & Company Centennial Professor of
Finance. He held visiting professorships at the Graduate School of Business
of the University of Stellenbosch (Republic of South Africa) and at the
McIntire School of Commerce of the University of Virginia.
His scholarship was noteworthy, resulting in several CBA development grants
and research assignments, including funded support from the Universities
of Stellenbosch, Virginia, and Houston. He produced many published articles
and working papers. As much as his eminent stature rested on teaching and
research, he was at least as widely praised for his service contribution,
both within and outside the University. His committee work extended far
beyond memberships on the University-wide Educational Policy Committee,
the Armed Forces ROTC Appointment Review Committee in the College of Liberal
Arts, and business school committees. He served for eight years as a member
of the General Board of Pensions of the United Methodist Church (with its
$5 billion portfolio); assisted the Ex-Students Association's Texas Excellence
Scholarship Review Committee; and was a member of the Board of Trustees
of Denver's School of Theology. Transcending all these contributions and
accomplishments was the quality of his commitments as a husband and father.
He and Ellen raised three talented and devoted sons, Curt (1966), John
(1969), and Will (1973).
An even greater service contribution to the college and Graduate
School of Business came from the various administrative positions
he was persuaded
to hold by a succession of four deans. From 1972 to 1976, he was the school's
associate dean, with responsibilities for three master's degree programs.
The following four years he chaired the finance department, putting him
at the heart of a period in which there were significant increases in enrollment
and all other dimensions of student/faculty activities. In January 1987,
he again accepted a challenge that was to engage him for the next decade
and which, according to many informed observers, was the crown of his career — the
associate deanship for undergraduate programs. At the end of those ten
years of service — a period of extraordinary growth and change — Dr.
Robert G. May, the last dean under whom Conrad served, included the following
in his announcement of the completion of Conrad's administrative appointment:
The undergraduate program under
Conrad's tenure has undergone significant changes in recent
years, and now ranks in the top five according to U.S. News & World
Report. Conrad's leadership and administrative skills have
played a major role in the program's enhanced rankings. He
oversaw the process of downsizing the program and the shift
in emphasis from screening out unqualified students to embracing
and meeting the needs of highly qualified students admitted
as freshmen. He has developed and staffed the Dean's Office
with a team of professionals who deliver student services of
the highest quality. Perhaps even more important, Conrad has
a keen sensitivity to students.... He applies our high standards,
but also seeks solutions to students' problems in a most non-
bureaucratic fashion.
In the spring of 1997, Conrad announced
his retirement from the faculty and began the University's three-year
phased retirement program. Regrettably, his declining health
did not permit him to complete that program, and his death followed
shortly after the tragedy of September 11, 2001, in New York
and Washington, D.C. That tragedy carried a special irony for
Conrad's many friends and family; for on an earlier "Day
of Infamy," December 7, 1941, Conrad had celebrated his
eleventh birthday.
Seldom has a faculty colleague, by virtue of both his academic competence
and his unswerving personal integrity, earned such high respect as that
bestowed upon him by all who knew him.
<signed>
Larry R. Faulkner,
President
The University of Texas at Austin
<signed>
John R. Durbin, Secretary
The General Faculty
This memorial resolution was prepared by a special committee consisting
of Professors Robert D. Mettlen (chair) and Beverly L. Hadaway, and Dean
Arthur T. Allert.
ATTACHMENTS
A Eulogy Delivered at the Memorial Service
at Tarrytown United Methodist Church
By
Professor Robert D. Mettlen
September 20, 2001
On Tuesday evening last week, as
did many of you, I was attending a prayer service at my own Methodist
Church in Northwest Hills. It struck me then that the tragedy
to which our thoughts were glued was about to be painfully compounded
because I was cognizant of the impending loss of my dear friend
for nearly forty years, Conrad Doenges. Throughout that day and
thereafter I often heard references to Pearl Harbor — and
I was aware of the sad irony that Conrad's birthday was December
7 — a date on our calendar that, on Conrad's eleventh birthday,
we began calling a day of infamy.
But during that prayer service my pastor, Bill Henderson, included
in the scripture readings he shared with us, the first two verses — very
familiar and comforting verses — from the fourteenth chapter of John's
Gospel. Listen to them again, with me. They are the words of Jesus:
Let not your heart be troubled:
Ye believe in God, believe also in me. In my Father's house
are many mansions; if it were not so I would have told you.
I go to prepare a place for you.
The translation from which I have
just read is the original King James version of the Bible. Various
subsequent translations refer, instead of to mansions, to dwelling
places or to heavenly rooms. And last week, when I heard these
verses, I began thinking of the dwelling place Conrad was soon
to occupy. And it occurred to me that, without too much difficulty,
I could probably describe that room. First, there would probably
be a Ford car parked outside. And inside a certain amount of
clutter because of the numerous stacks of books that he'd surely
insist on having around. In addition to the ever-present and
well-thumbed Bible, there would probably be a copy of Jane's
Fighting Ships, a dozen or so novels remaining from Patrick O'Brian's
Aubrey-Maturin series about naval adventures during the Napoleonic
wars that Conrad had not yet had an opportunity to finish, and
goodness knows what else. But books and Doenges go together like
lilies and Easter!
Except for Ellen and one or two others, I have probably known Conrad longer
than the rest here today. During the 1963-64 academic year he had entered
the academic slave market and his search for a faculty position had taken
him to Indiana University where I then was, and my liking and admiration
of him began with our very first conversation. All of us know that he chose
The University of Texas for his academic home, much to the chagrin of my
senior professor in Bloomington who wanted very much to add a colleague
who was superbly trained in history as well as finance and economics, a
perfect description of Conrad.
When I myself came to Austin in 1966, the allure of UT was substantially
augmented by Conrad's presence here. I do recall from those early days
watching him zip by in his pink T-bird convertible (he wasn't the world's
most cautious driver back then!) and he and Ellen together in that car
easily conjured up images of Frankie Avalon and Annette Funicello on a
romp! (Some of you may have to have those names explained...)
As it has to this day, the Doenges and Mettlen family friendship
flowered through those early years. There was instruction from
the Old Testament
Book of Genesis to go forth and multiply — so we did. Each produced
three offspring — three Mettlen girls and three exceptional Doenges
boys, Curt, John, and Will, whose relative sizes do not reveal the sequence
of their births. Well before the concept of genetic engineering was developed,
Conrad and I had at least one conversation in which we speculated on the
extraordinary improvements in the human gene pool that could be expected
if our children could be paired off. Each, respectively, subsequently proved
that he and she had independent views on such matters, so Conrad and I
merely reverted to attributing their obvious intelligence and independence
to their parents.
Among Judi's and my fond recollections are such shared pleasures
as a picnic on our Clear Creek County Colorado mountainside and
a sumptuous meal at
the Doenges' mountain cabin near Buffalo Creek. As you know, Conrad is
to be interred in Colorado — a beautiful part of the world that he
dearly loved. He fully appreciated the majesty of the purple mountains
above the fruited plains! And that heavenly room I spoke of earlier will
surely have a big picture window looking out over the Rockies!
Conrad's own parents were marvelous folks who also became friends of ours
during their Austin visits from Colorado. Both his mother and father strictly
held sincere views about morality and proper behavior that, while thoroughly
commendable, may have been just a bit on the puritanical side. On one occasion,
in anticipation of a parental visit, the Mettlen home became the temporary
hiding place of Conrad's bottle of scotch! And Conrad displayed his trust
in me (to the best of my knowledge) by not even marking the level of its
contents!
Well, if President Roosevelt taught us to say "day of infamy," one
of F.D.R.'s favorite pen pals, one of my 20th Century heroes, Winston Churchill,
also serves as a stimulant to my memories of Conrad. When Churchill wrote
to F.D.R. during the war, he routinely signed his letter, "Former
Naval Person," as a testament to his earlier role as First Lord of
the Admiralty. That designation applies with equal accuracy to Conrad as
well. Or should I say to Commander Doenges! Churchill's numerous writings
stamped him, among other things, as a first-class historian. Conrad was
magna cum laude in history at Harvard. And Churchill's voice inspired millions
of freedom-loving peoples around the globe. Who among us will ever forget
that wonderfully deep, melodious, and mellifluous voice of Conrad's? Conrad
was passionate about many things — his wife, his sons, his church
and faith, his profession, his universities. But I cannot recall ever seeing
him truly angry or flirting with the boundaries of self-control. When you
are well versed in the history of mankind and totally secure in the faith
of our fathers — as Conrad was — few circumstances need be met
with debilitating alarm or panic. Conrad was cool — in both the contemporary
and traditional uses of that term, and that marvelous voice of his never
failed to inspire his listeners' calm and close attention.
Rudolph Conrad Doenges was a great friend, a great colleague, and, as long
as I draw breath, I shall miss him dearly.
Eulogy for Dr. Conrad Doenges
Tarrytown Methodist Church
September 20, 2001
Delivered by Arthur Allert
Assistant Dean, Red McCombs School of Business
In January of 1986, a man I had
never met became associate dean of the undergraduate program
and our new boss. Staff, including myself, were curious as to
what type of man he was. Knowing that he was a professor of finance,
I called an employee in the finance department, and asked her
opinion of Dr. Doenges. She was enthusiastic in her assessment: "He's
a wonderful man. You'll love working with him." Her assessment
was prophetic. He was a wonderful man, and everyone did indeed
enjoy working with him. That sentiment is echoed by the multitude
of witnesses who are gathered here today to remember and honor
Dr. Doenges.
As undergraduate dean, Dr. Doenges came into a difficult situation at the
time of his appointment. We had a large, unwieldy program, lacking in resources
and prominence. We were an office with half the number of employees we
have today, but with twice the number of students, and no technology except
for one small Apple Macintosh computer, which Dr. Doenges closely guarded
in his office. There were many problems, crises and difficulties, and above
all, lots and lots of students. Into this barely organized chaos walked
Dr. Doenges. He provided a steady hand, a cool head, and quiet leadership,
which allowed us to progress forward.
By the time he left ten years later, he had transformed an unruly giant
into the fifth best undergraduate business program in the country, increased
resources and staff, improved student services, raised student quality,
and reduced resentment from the other schools across campus. Dr. Doenges
didn't need to take on the undergraduate assignment. After all, he had
already provided administrative service to the school as dean of the MBA
program and as chair of the finance department. But he was a giver and
a team player, and when he was called upon, he saddled up once again. It
was typical of the selfless devotion he demonstrated in countless other
ways to his friends, his colleagues, the college, the University, his church,
his community, and his country.
I call him Dr. Doenges now, but then we always referred to him as Dean
Doenges. To those of us who worked for him, we never called him by his
first name. Never. It was not so much the difference in age between the
staff and him, but out of respect. He was a father figure to most of us,
and calling him by his first name was like calling your parents by their
first name. He had a marvelous ability to bring people together and get
them to work as a team. His strength of character diffused many potential
staff problems. His wisdom and guidance kept us on a clear course, and
as employees we all learned to work together for the common good. About
the worst thing you could do as an employee was to disappoint him by not
doing your job, or behaving inappropriately. Not because he would yell
at you, or write a reprimand for your file, or discipline you. But you
didn't want to disappoint him because you felt just AWFUL about it. When
you had to sit there with him in his office and discuss what went wrong,
it was like flunking an exam or letting down a close friend. Dr. Doenges
inspired you to do what was right by his example.
Students also had a great respect for Dr. Doenges, although they
had a little different viewpoint. Imagine yourself being 18 years
old and at
a summer orientation session at UT in a room full of 200 other freshmen.
There is a lot of noise, talking, and shuffling around when the orientation
program starts and your dean is introduced. You glance to the stage and
see a slight man, somewhat reminiscent of your grandfather, with glasses
covering piercing blue eyes. He goes to the microphone and speaks, and
for the first time you hear it — the VOICE; that deep, resonant voice
which hushes a room and commands attention. Our students called it the
voice of God, and never was it more prominent than at our college commencement.
Dr. Doenges read the names of thousands of students each year for ten years
and never made a mistake! Well, he did make mistakes, but you never questioned
it because the Voice said it in such a way that it must be so. Dr. Doenges'
voice just seemed to fit the measure of the man and was a vocal manifestation
of how we all felt about him, generating a sense of awe and respect.
It's no wonder students were a bit intimidated by him after their
orientation encounter. Once, I remember a freshman who had an
appointment with him,
and as the student checked in at the receptionist desk, I heard him say
in a nervous voice "I'm here for my appointment with Dean Dangerous." The
name Doenges received a variety of pronunciations over the years, but it
was the only time we ever heard him called Dangerous. But this young man
and indeed all of our students had nothing to fear from Dean Doenges. He
was a kind and understanding man. Well, unless you were a student who wanted
to get out of the history requirement. Since history was a lifelong love
of Dr. Doenges, he was not accommodating to students who didn't see its
value.
We have some very smart, accomplished faculty in the business school and
some of them are not shy about letting you know it. However, Dean Doenges
didn't flaunt his accomplishments and he likewise expected us to check
our egos at the door. He treated students with the same respect he showed
for faculty and staff and did not differentiate when it came down to human
dignity and worth. As a dean he was patient, empathetic, a remarkable listener,
and extremely fair in dealing with students. His lifelong commitment to
students led to the establishment of an award in his name, which is given
annually to the graduating senior in the Honors program who demonstrates
the qualities of leadership and service that Dr. Doenges embodied.
In dealing with all people Dr. Doenges was sincere, honest beyond description,
and patient. He had a defined set of values and morals that clearly guided
his actions. Dr. Doenges lived his values and followed his beliefs in all
situations, at all times. Here was an examined life worth living. There
was something about him, something quiet but strong, unassuming but magnificent,
brilliant but humble. This inner composure I discovered came from his faith.
He was a deeply spiritual man, and lived his faith step by step, not in
loud proclamations, but day by day. He was confident in his beliefs, and
the week before he died when the finality of his situation became evident,
he told his family that he was not afraid.
I know that Dr. Doenges relished being at the University and loved teaching
and interacting with students. After all, he spent 35 years of his life
at UT. But there was one priority above his profession. The most important
thing in his life was his family, and at the center of his universe were
his wife and three sons. Nothing meant more to him in the world, nothing
pleased him more, and nothing rivaled his love for his family. Out of all
of the accomplishments he achieved, and all of the positions he held, the
ones he was most proud of were that of husband and father. What wonderful
sons he raised in Curt, John, and Will, and how proud he was of each one
of you. I know that we are here today to say goodbye to your dad, but all
we need to do to see him again is look at each of you.
My office was next to Dr. Doenges' office, and I could always
tell when he got a phone call from Mrs. Doenges. His usual businesslike "Hello" when
he answered the phone, would be quickly followed by a euphoric "Hello,
Mrs. D!" and his voice would lift, and his spirit soared and the room
seemed to brighten just because he was talking to her. Ellen, the two of
you were indeed a match made in heaven.
Dr. Doenges was a giver, an example to follow, a mentor, a man
of principles and faith, and a family man. He knew his priorities
and he lived up to
them. In the New Testament in the twenty-third chapter of Matthew, there
is the story of a lawyer who asks Jesus what is the greatest commandment
of all. Jesus answers him "You shall love the Lord your God with all
your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind." And a
second is like it, "You shall love your neighbor as yourself." We
have all known a man in Dr. Doenges who tried to live his life according
to these commandments. And because of the quality of his life, we are better
people for having known him. Thank you Dr. Doenges for being a part of
our lives — we can never forget you.
May God bless the Doenges family and give you strength and comfort in the
days ahead.
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