lando papers. The first ad asked “Who Owns Rollins College?” It listed the names of the trustees who had attended the New York meeting, and implied that they had acted illegally. The second ad, labeled “Fair Play the American Way,” accused the trustees of defaulting on their promise to back Wagner following the downsizing decision. An anti-Wagner group responded with its own full-page ad, explaining “What Rollins is Trying to Achieve.” On May 21, Wagner filed a $500,000 lawsuit against the 11 trustees who had voted for his dismissal. And then, to further complicate matters, the Florida Legislature inserted itself. The local legislative delegation, at the behest of influential pro-Wagner campaigners, had pushed through a bill ousting all out-of-state members from the board of trustees. “It is the duty of the Legislature,” the pro-Wagner committee declared, “to remove this valuable asset of the state from the grasp of a small group of selfish and irresponsible men from other states and their rabble-rousing followers on the campus, and put it under the control of open-minded, capable people close to the situation and aware of the interests of Central Florida and the whole state.” News of the bill threw the campus into turmoil once again. A hastily called meeting of faculty, students and townspeople resulted in a “Friends of the College Committee,” which began mobilizing opposition. More than 200 people in cars and buses traveled to Tallahassee seeking to scuttle the bill, which was seen as unprecedented meddling in the internal affairs of a private institution of higher learning. In the face of mounting pressure, representatives asked Governor Fuller Warren to return the bill for a second consideration and, on May 28, both houses unanimously rescinded the ill-conceived legislation.
ulty, students and alumni had assembled. At the gathering, Carrison announced that McKean had been appointed president of the college. The next day, McKean called an all-college meeting at the Annie Russell Theatre, where he, Tiedtke and Carrison gave victory speeches to an ecstatic audience. When the meeting ended, students spontaneously lifted McKean on their shoulders and carried him through the campus, exuding optimism and shouting cheers. The euphoria, however, would be short-lived.
Four days later, the Orlando Morning Sentinel’s front-page headline read: “Wagner Says Still President.” An accompanying story explained that the deposed president refused to recognize the legality of the action taken at the New York trustees’ meeting. The executive committee, which still consisted of Wagner loyalists, held a special meeting to discuss the matter, but failed to secure a quorum as trustees pointedly stayed away. A pro-Wagner citizens committee, after holding a large meeting at the Winter Park Country Club, began publishing a series of ads in the Or-
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FINAL SHOWDOWN
The following day, the trustees held their regularly scheduled — and now critical — commencement meeting, at which they would either reconfirm or reverse the decision made in New York. When members arrived at the conference room of Knowles Memorial Chapel, they found Wagner and his attorneys already seated. Bancroft gaveled the meeting to order, called the roll — 15 members were present — and then declared a recess, during which he asked Wagner and his team to leave the meeting. When they refused, Bancroft reconvened the meeting and announced that it would be moved to the Morse Art Gallery. The Wagner contingent, Bancroft insisted, would be barred from the building “unless they use force to enter.” An escalation S PRING 2 0 1 7 | W IN T ER PARK MAGAZ IN E
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ORIGINAL IMAGE COURTESY OF THE ROLLINS COLLEGE ARCHIVES
Arthur Enyart (top), former dean, reads, likely with some satisfaction, of Wagner’s travails. Just a few months before, Enyart and Nathan Starr, an English professor caught up in Wagner’s purge, had met cordially with the new president (above).