The Great
Toothbrush Caper
By Carl Haag ’52
It was Valentine’s Day, 1952. Antioch students
emerged from their common rooms and dorms to find
the blazing headline “Grab Toothbrushes Worth $130”
in the Daily Record. Of course, most students already
knew something was going on because their toothbrushes
had been purloined.
It was reported that some 325 toothbrushes and a $50
dental bridge had been stolen on campus the day before,
from all the dorms except Marshall. They had been
removed from out-of-the-way places like drawers and
top closet shelves. Later, 26 brushes were found on a bed
in Anchors and more turned up on a table in Mann Hall.
The Feb. 14th issue of the Record (no. 134) had a
fiery editorial calling it “a stupid impractical joke by
mental midgets,” two long letters of outrage from groups
of students, and a short letter of a punny response saying
the incident “left a bad taste in my mouth.”
Then issue no. 134 1/2 came out with the headline “Nab Jokesters.” Three people, the article said, had
been found in Mann Hall at 3:30 AM by Pete Signell ’52 and George Stoertz ’53, who were in an ambush off the
main hall. George waited until two of the culprits started
festooning the pilfered brushes around and between two
large posts and then popped out and took a flash photo
of Dan Gruender ’52 and Marty Ostrander ’52. Cy
Tebbetts ’52 was discovered a short time later distributing
copies of a bogus “toothbrush survey.”
Members of the Record staff working on the paper
were summoned, followed by Cy Worby ’52 and assistant
securities coordinator Bill Finefrock ’53. Gruender
and Tebbetts said they set up the stunt because the
campus was too serious and thought this would liven it
up. They refused to name others involved and took full
responsibility, but said their barracks coordinator denied
that the missing denture from Casbah had been
taken by their group. To accomplish this grand theft
required at least one agent in each hall and a pyramid
organization structured in such a way that no one knew
who was involved beyond one level lower or higher.
The campus was in an uproar. One group thought it
was a good joke and had been well organized; some
students upon hearing of the heist even ran to their
rooms to make sure they had not been left out. However,
another group was concerned about students with limited
funds having to buy a new 50¢ toothbrush (about the
hourly wage in 1952), and many were concerned that
outsiders would realize how easy it might be to enter and
take things from the dorm rooms.
Two petitions were posted on the official bulletin
board, one condemning the prank and the other supporting
the effort to lighten up the campus. Lillian Pillard,
Director of Student Aid, signed the first and Mort Rauh,
Business Manager, the second. Betty Corcoran, the
Bookstore manager, called their supplier and was able
to obtain a quick delivery of toothbrushes.
The Record of Feb. 15 (no. 135) had this information:
a total of 36 students requested $21.27 reimbursement
for their toothbrushes with three times that number
of students volunteering to ante up the repayments, the
report that a $50 dental plate had been taken proved
false, a flood of letters had come in about the missing
toothbrushes and the Record had room to print only a
representative sample. One letter stated that each of the
culprits held “high places” in the community: Ostrander
a graduate and junior faculty member, Gruender a hall
adviser, and Tebbetts a member of Community Council.
In the middle of all the furor was the Community
Manager, Ted Fritsch ’53. Months later Carl Haag ’52 drove up to northern Ohio with Ted Fritsch as a passenger
and commiserated with Ted in having to deal with
the toothbrush tumult. Ted turned and said: “I was
behind the caper.”
|
