Back to Report Contents

`Scobeyfest' honors a UWM legend

The long line of dignitaries at Nancy Zimpher's Inauguration included five former UWM chancellors and Milwaukee Mayor John Norquist. Each of them passed Paul Scobey with a warm greeting. Scobey, who retired this summer as assistant secretary of the university, has seen his share of ceremonial events. He has attended every commencement at UWM for the past 33 years, and estimates that he has witnessed the graduation of at least 40,000 UWM students. He has worked under six secretaries of the university and six chancellors.

His impish sense of humor and remarkable head for details made him an indispensable part of campus life.

"There are people who thought Paul's first name was `Call,' because of the number of times I said, `Call Scobey,'" says Provost and Vice Chancellor Ken Watters, adding that UWM probably should retire Scobey's phone number.

If you've ever taught or taken a class at UWM, given or taken an exam here, attended an official ceremony, or served on a committee, your life has been touched by Paul Scobey. That's nearly everyone on campus - and, says Scobey, that's the reason he's been here for so long.

"The office (of secretary of the university) and the university have changed a lot since 1966," says Scobey. "I was essentially the middleman between the administration and the faculty and academic staff. That's why I've enjoyed my job so much - it's brought me into contact with all segments of the university."

As assistant secretary, Scobey took care of the nuts and bolts of the university's daily business - tasks most people take for granted, like scheduling classrooms and final exams each semester. But he also took on volunteer activities, such as coordinating the State and University Employees Combined Campaign (SECC). And, each year, bidders at the Chancellor's Auction crowded to the bake sale table to buy a plate of Scobey's tart lemon bars.

Scobey is a walking reference on all things UWM. He has never thrown anything away, some co-workers claim. "He was the custodian of records, has every conceivable document," says Mary Heller, "and you would be amazed at the number of people who come into this office to use his collection of old staff directories!"

Heller, Scobey's assistant for the last seven years, is, like so many on campus, clearly fond of her old boss. "He and his wife are two of the kindest people I've ever met," she says. In June, Heller and some other colleagues threw one heck of a retirement party in Greene Hall, a location where Scobey prepared many official events. They called it "Scobeyfest."

Along with the levity came the laud: a commendation from Gov. Tommy Thompson, and designation of emeritus status from the UW System Board of Regents, an honor that usually is reserved for retiring faculty.

But it was the crowd of some 200, reveling in Scobey's "mock" honorary degree of Doctor of Pomp and Circumstance and Other Things Vital to the University (PACAOTVU), that Scobey enjoyed the most.

Escorted by Marilyn E. Miller, former secretary of the university and the one with whom he had worked the longest, Scobey was honored with - what else? - an official awards ceremony, complete with a procession headed by Registrar Emeritus Fred Sperry and Paul Rediske, who has served as a marshall at 26 commencements and has been chief marshall since 1990. Music Professor Wayne Cook, also retiring this summer and also receiving emeritus status, provided the trumpet fanfare. Associate Professor Scott Emmons joined the performance on trombone.

A rabid Chicago Cubs fan, Scobey received a picture of Wrigley Field with a message on the scoreboard: "Scobey Retires. Holy Cow!"

More than just a super resource, Scobey was a mentor, says Allen Meier, whose job involving classroom assignments was moved from the secretary's office to Academic Affairs two years ago.

"He has certainly been my master," said Meier. "Luke Skywalker had his Obe Wan. I had Scobey Wan."

Colleagues poked fun at him for carrying "a newfangled electronic pocket calendar, which works only when he's with other people who can tell him that his timer has sounded and something is about to begin."

"Paul has made this job a can of corn," says Miller, also a retired psychology professor. "For those of you who don't know what that expression means, it's baseball terminology. You and I would say `a piece of cake.' At the risk of sounding immodest, I thought he and I made a darn good team, and had so much fun that I actually came back from retirement for a few months because I missed it."

For his part, Scobey says he will pursue community work, play softball with the "over the hill gang," and spend time with his grandchildren, Jacob, 4, and Liam, 1.

"I'd like to work with the elderly, I think, or with Habitat for Humanity," he says.

In his trademark, unpretentious manner, he gave his parting address from notes made on a piece of scrap cardboard. And, of course, Scobey made the lemon bars.

GET OUT YOUR SCISSORS!

PAUL SCOBEY'S PRACTICALLY WORLD-FAMOUS LEMON BARS

2 cups flour

1/2 cup confectioner's sugar

1 cup butter

Mix like a pie crust. Press into ungreased 9X13 metal pan. Bake at 350 degrees for 22 minutes or until lightly browned.

Filling 4 eggs 1-1/2 to 2 cups granulated sugar

1/2 cup BOTTLED lemon juice

1/4 cup flour

1/2 teaspoon baking powder

Combine eggs, sugar, and lemon juice and beat until well creamed. Blend flour and baking powder; add to egg mixture. Mix well. Pour over crust as soon as it comes out of the oven. Bake at 350 degrees for 25 minutes. Cool, dust with confectioner's sugar, and cut into squares. Filling will be a little on the loose side, but sets quickly. Better set on second day.