Before Porta Bella closed in February, Joyce ’82 and Arlon ’80 Spaeth enjoyed a last meal in one of its secluded booths. Jeff Miller

Years ago, I had a memorable first date at Porta Bella, the campus-area Italian restaurant. One reason I remember the date so well: the overripe romantic ambiance.

Stepping through the archway at 425 N. Frances Street was like entering another world — one set apart from the chain restaurants on nearby State Street. Porta Bella offered an enchanted realm of stained glass, classical statues, mirrored walls and ceilings, dark wood paneling, brass chandeliers, and private booths. Each of the three dimly lit dining rooms had its own character, and an enclosed garden courtyard promised old-world charm. It was a welcome contrast to the utilitarian parking ramp across the street.

Stepping through the archway at 425 N. Frances Street was like entering another world. Jeff Miller

Unfortunately, enchanted realms don’t last forever. After 58 years, Porta Bella closed last February to make way for a high-rise apartment building. Well, they can take away our manicotti, but they can’t take our memories.

Porta Bella opened as an upscale spinoff of Paisan’s, the campus favorite that lasted almost as long — it closed in 2022. Ed Shinnick, who worked at the restaurant when it opened in 1968 and became a co-owner in 1974, lovingly preserved some of the original recipes. The Porta Salad, with a choice of seven dressings, was the stuff of UW legend. And no one ever left hungry after ordering the Garibaldi Sandwich, an original concoction featuring layers of ham, salami, pepper jack cheese, tomatoes, and peppers.

Shinnick also updated the menu based on his regular trips to Mantova, Italy. In the banquet room, an eight-panel mural of Mantova beckoned to dreamers with its towers and turrets.

Porta Bella’s customers and staff were primarily UW students. And as UW alumni, they continued flocking to their favorite tables on return trips to campus. No one ever forgot the distinctive atmosphere.

“The upholstered booths made it feel like you were in your own quiet space,” says Shinnick, who felt ready to retire after nearly six decades. “It was a romantic place where you could go on your first date or your anniversary.”

As for my own first date at the restaurant, there’s another reason it sticks in my memory. My companion that night — who wisely ordered the fettucine alfredo — is now my wife. I doubt things would have turned out quite so well if we’d dined at a chain restaurant on State Street instead of the ever-magical Porta Bella.

UW dance students and members of the group Hitterz Collective perform at Lathrop Hall during Moonshine 2026, a spring semester event sponsored by the department. For 100 years, the UW has been a leader in dance studies. Xiaomeng Shen

UW–Madison holds a special place in the history of American dance: in 1926, under the direction of Margaret H’Doubler 1910, MA1924, the UW created the nation’s first university-based program for the study of dance as an academic discipline. From that beginning, generations of dancers, choreographers, and instructors have carried the Madison influence to stages and studios around the nation. This year, UW–Madison is honoring a century of dance with a yearlong celebration.

H’Doubler was a coach and physical education instructor, and she revolutionized dance studies by mixing creativity with physiology. She founded Orchesis, the UW’s modern dance troupe, and wrote a seminal textbook, Dance: A Creative Art Experience — and she also famously kept a human skeleton in her classroom to teach her students to appreciate anatomy as much as artistry. A century later, the UW’s dance program is still closely connected with kinesiology.

According to Professor Li Chiao-Ping, the incoming department chair and director of the celebration, the birthday party began in April 2026 and continues through May 2027. It involves a faculty concert, alumni appearances, and visiting artists, including choreographer Tiffany Merritt-Brown ’16. But the program is also receiving something of a birthday gift: a new master of fine arts degree program begins this fall with a cohort of four graduate students. The UW hasn’t had a dance MFA in decades — “not during the career of any of us on the faculty now,” according to Li. The new degree will help the UW reassert its place as the springboard of American dance thinking.

“We can probably trace everyone [involved in dance and dance education today] back to someone who was influenced by the ideas that were innovated here,” Li says.

In June, Alumni College attendees met at a lodge in Arbor Vitae, Wisconsin. This February, the popular program will expand its offerings to include a session in Tucson, Arizona. Courtesy of Red Crown Lodge

For a dozen years, alumni and friends have traveled to Wisconsin’s Red Crown Lodge in Arbor Vitae, Wisconsin, for Alumni College, where they learn about the most important topics of the day from UW experts.

For this year’s event in June, some 50 participants gathered for a long weekend on the shores of Trout Lake at the scenic resort owned by Bob Dunn ’89 and his wife, Julie Dunn ’91.

“It’s a treat for Badgers to spend time with such accomplished UW faculty and learn about the breadth and impact of their work,” says Sarah Schutt, chief alumni officer and executive director of the Wisconsin Alumni Association (WAA). Melissa Zehner ’12, who directs the program along with McKenzie Zdrale ’00, MA’23, adds that “there is a lot of ongoing connection with people who see each other year after year, but there are always some newcomers, too.” Some attendees come from as far as Texas and Alaska.

Zehner says that the immersive experience connects attendees with faculty members for meals and leisure activities such as canoeing, pontoon boat rides, and pickleball, “so it really gives them a good opportunity to learn more about what their academic departments are doing.”

This year’s presentations covered a range of topics. Gregory Nemet, a professor at the La Follette School of Public Affairs, spoke about renewable energy. Journalism professor Michael Wagner explored how news and social media affect democracy, and Laura Albert, a professor of industrial and systems engineering, explained how engineering is optimizing public safety. Nasia Safdar MS’02, PhD’09, associate dean for clinical trials at the School of Medicine and Public Health, spoke about antibiotic resistance.

“I would love to be able to add five stars to all the [satisfaction survey] ratings,” says Milwaukee attendee Heidi Cooper ’70. “The venue and professors are fantastic. I come away feeling a part of the greater UW community and so proud of my university.”

Donald Olson ’74 of Fort Mill, South Carolina, adds, “Great weather, amazing food, terrific speakers, and old and new friends made for a perfect long weekend.”

In addition to the annual summer event in the Northwoods, in February 2027, WAA will host its first Alumni College in Tucson, Arizona, due to popular demand from Badger chapters and other alumni in the state.

When this photo was taken around 1890, the clock’s mechanism used a 1,000-pound weight that fell to the ground every eight days. UW Archives

It’s hard to believe now, with smartphones in our pockets and smartwatches on our wrists, that UW students once relied on the Music Hall clock tower at the foot of Bascom Hill to make it to class on time.

In 1922, the Daily Cardinal offered this bit of service journalism: “It is poor policy … for a student to set his watch by looking at the hands of the tower clock, for he is below, looking up, and the perspective is such that he cannot get the exact time.”

Instead, UW students keyed their watch to the chimes of the clock tower’s bell, which marked the top of an hour — “always within 20 seconds of being correct.”

But even those students had the new luxury of wristwatches. When Music Hall was built in 1878, the 100-foot-high clock tower became one of the only places on campus to reference the official time. The clock featured four faces, with dials six feet in diameter and brass-studded Roman numerals.

To tell time, the clock tower looked to the sun and stars — or rather, to the Washburn Observatory. UW astronomers took celestial readings to calibrate the observatory’s master timepieces. Then, according to the book Chasing the Stars, they used what was likely the city’s first telephone line to listen in on the tower clock’s rhythms and note corrections. Shortly after, the observatory installed an electrical system that delivered signals regulating the Music Hall clock.

Originally, the clock’s mechanism used a 1,000-pound weight that would fall to the ground every eight days. At that point, a pair of herculean workers would spend an hour-plus cranking it up 50 feet to keep the clock ticking.

The clock was made automatic with electrical winding in 1933.

Music Hall was first called Assembly Hall and later Library Hall for its original functions — seating the whole student body in a large auditorium and housing the main book collection. It soon became home to the new School of Music and was officially renamed in 1910. Music Hall served as the school’s headquarters until 1969, after which it was largely left to the University Opera and the urban planning department.

Earlier this year, the UW announced it would use a lead gift from Herb Kohl Philanthropies to renovate Music Hall into the future home of the La Follette School of Public Affairs and rename the building after the late senator. The updates will modernize the interior while keeping the iconic exterior intact — including the clock tower. So, tomorrow’s students will still have no excuses for being late to class.

Denison: Getting things done, making things better, giving others a moment to shine. Althea Dotzour

Heads up, readers: you may want to hang on to this issue. It could become a collector’s item. The Fall 2026 On Wisconsin will be the last issue that has a feature article by Niki Denison in her role as coeditor.

This October, Niki will retire after 38 years as an editor here. Her first byline showed up in the November 1989 issue of what was then called Wisconsin Alumni (and was then published six times a year). During her tenure, the magazine changed its name, changed its frequency, and changed its publisher, after the Wisconsin Alumni Association (WAA) merged with the UW Foundation to become WFAA.

A lot of Niki’s efforts over the years have come without her byline. But then a good editor works quietly, helping others do what they do, only better. Still, you can see her influence in this magazine’s long-running excellence. Under her guidance, On Wisconsin has won a lot of awards, including the 2022 gold award for best alumni magazine from the Council for Advancement and Support of Education, our trade group, and 2024’s gold award for best issue of a magazine.

Beyond her professional accomplishments with On Wisconsin, Niki has been a friend and supportive voice, not only to me but to generations of colleagues: she has worked with four coeditors, four heads of WAA, three heads of the UW Foundation, six chancellors, two printers, many staff writers, and I have no idea how many freelance writers, photographers, and illustrators. She had a hand in hiring every writer and editor who works on the magazine right now.

This issue also offers a full-circle coincidence. In March 1990, in her second issue, Niki wrote a feature article about the grads that the alumni association was honoring with that year’s Distinguished Alumni Awards. It was her first byline in what we call the feature well, the middle of the magazine. In the middle of this issue, you’ll find an awards insert with articles about all the alumni that WAA is honoring this year. Niki oversaw development and production for that insert, though she lets others have the spotlight — the bylines go to writer Wendy Hathaway ’04 and WAA executive director Sarah Schutt, while Niki’s name shows up fifth in the staff box. That’s typical of her: getting things done, making things better, giving others a moment to shine.

Congratulations on your retirement, Niki, and thank you for the decades you spent building this magazine into an embodiment of what the UW stands for. Your byline will always be welcome!

Hoofers is dedicated to making its activities accessible to people at all levels of experience — including no experience. Adam Remus

When you attend a university that sits on a lake, how could you not appreciate the outdoors?

Fortunately, since the 1930s, the Wisconsin Hoofers has taken advantage of UW–Madison’s proximity to nature. While sailing on Lake Mendota remains the student-led organization’s most recognizable and popular programming, Hoofers also offers membership to clubs that span every season and an enormous range of outdoor activities.

The Sailing Club organizes lessons, rentals, and races. The Outing Club guides wilderness excursions across the state and country, from canoeing and whitewater kayaking to backpacking and snowshoeing. The Mountaineering Club climbs the indoor rock wall of Union South, the bluffs of Devil’s Lake State Park, and summits as far as Spain. The Riding Club saddles up for lessons and competitions on horseback. The Scuba Club dives underwater to explore local lakes and international waters. The Ski and Snowboard Club trains at Tyrol Basin in Mount Horeb, rides down mountains out west, and chases winter conditions all the way to Chile in the off months.

Wisconsin Hoofers is not only unique for these broad offerings but also for its mission to make outdoor adventure accessible to people at all levels of experience — including no experience — thanks to robust education and certification programs.

“At other universities, the riding club might be limited to folks who have been riding since they could walk. But here, we’ve had students who’d never even seen a horse before going on to learn, compete, and win nationals,” says Madeleine Carr, communications specialist for the Wisconsin Union, which houses Hoofers.

Bree Ward-Debauche

More than 2,220 students, faculty, staff, and community members are active members of Hoofers. Joining a club requires a Wisconsin Union lifetime or annual membership (if not a student) and a separate fee that helps cover equipment.

Hoofers’ popularity has prompted UW–Madison to propose a $2.7 million renovation of its boat storage and education facility by the Memorial Union shoreline. The project would use private funds and add equipment rental and storage space plus a rooftop event area.

Hoofers, it seems, is here to stay.

“Every year, people join the Mountaineering Club who are scared of heights, and then within a year, they’re teaching others how to set anchors,” says Luke Waldhuetter ’26, president of the Hoofers Council. “Even for me, I had never been scuba diving before Hoofers, and now I love planning dive trips and relating to a whole other community. It’s completely changed my life.”

Sahil Joshi

In our spring 2026 issue, “State Street, That Great Street” revisited old haunts and showcased new favorites on UW–Madison’s legendary campus corridor. The article spurred an outpouring of letters from alumni who fondly recalled their own days on State Street — and who passionately advocated for bars, stores, and restaurants we didn’t have space to mention.

Many thanks to Preston Schmitt for his stroll down the memory that is State Street. A brisk walk from Library Mall to the Capitol and back provided just the intellectual respite I needed after hours slogging through GPA killers like organic chemistry and calculus. Serious studying requires reinvigoration, and the seemingly endless parade of State Street denizens provides that for me. In many ways, I owe my academic success to those walks. State Street is, indeed, a special place in Madison.

—Michael T. Selch ’73

In the spring semester of 1970, I was a junior waitressing at Gargano’s pizzeria on State Street — late shift. That was the year the Vietnam War expanded into Cambodia and the classes I inhabited seemed to virtually shut down — everyone was meeting and protesting. I thought it was better to take the semester off and earn some money. I have four memories: sloshing a plate of spaghetti into a customer’s lap, convincing my shifts to pool tips (I wasn’t a very good waitress), smashing iceberg lettuces on the table to pull out the hard core, and the joy of sunrise after a long night of work, then sleeping till afternoon. Those were the days!

—Robin Kutner ’72

My parents lived on Hawthorn Court just off State Street when I was born in 1950. I had many fun State Street experiences shopping, dining, and drinking during the crazy ’60s and ’70s (especially Saturday pregame beers on a window stool at The Pub).

Once the Orpheum Theater offered two free tickets to a James Brown concert for the best reason someone would deserve to see the show in 10 words or less. My submission: “My girlfriend will dump me if I don’t get tickets.” One year after attending that great show, my James Brown date became my first wife! We even got our wedding rings at Goodman’s Jewelers on State Street.

—Doug Lindquist ’72, MBA’73

Thanks for the great article about State Street. What a wonderful trip down memory lane. My family moved to Madison in 1973 when I was just 10 years old. My first memories of State Street revolve around our hippie mom treating my sister and me to toasted cinnamon raisin bagels smothered with peanut butter and honey, served at the aptly named Good Karma restaurant. I think it was in a basement on the south side of the 500 block.

I remember Lake Street Station, which was a record store and weed paraphernalia shop.

Sacred Feather sold more than just hats. I’m still carrying a fine leather wallet I purchased there in the 1980s, along with a matching leather checkbook cover and datebook cover, still in great shape, although the latter two have been rarely used in the last couple decades, what with electronic banking and calendars.

When I was a teenager, several blocks of State Street were still open for driving private cars. It was a great place to cruise and people-watch on a Saturday night. As a 16-year-old I used to think that college students were so mature.

Great memories!

—Tom Hazen x’88, MBA’95

Nice job on “State Street, That Great Street.” I have vivid memories of my days at the UW and, of course, of State Street. It was the place to be for good food and nightlife. In my opinion, there is one glaring omission in your article — The Pub. Certainly no establishment during the late ’60s and early ’70s served more UW students than The Pub. It was busy on weeknights and packed on the weekends.

—Gary Konwinski ’74

When I attended the UW in the late 1960s, our group would hang out at the KK (Kollege Klub). Ed Sweet ’70 would start playing the Subway pinball machine and one of our friends would continue playing throughout the day, usually on his first dime. Of course, we would eat their burgers and O Steak and beers. We also played Palooka at Burgerville. To cap off the day, Ella’s Deli. I come back many times a year to eat at State Street Brats.

—Jay Bubrick ’71

I thoroughly enjoyed reading “State Street, That Great Street” — the attention to detail in particular. I’ve reread it several times.

My memories of State Street are numerous, one being the couple steps up to Rennebohm’s at State and Lake, known to many of us students simply as “The Pharm,” to enjoy a cake after classes.

In my senior year, the main assignment in Elizabeth Patterson’s feature writing class in journalism school was to write and sell a feature story. I chose the busy little popcorn shop on the wedge-shaped corner of State just west of the Orpheum. The shop was bustling with customers — many of them UW students — selecting their favorite flavor before watching a movie at the Orpheum or the Capitol right across the street. The Orpheum and the Capitol were the city’s top first-run houses for years. I did sell the story to a trade publication and earned an “A.”

One more memory of State Street is the Toddle House, a little freestanding restaurant on the north side of State about halfway between Park Street and the Capitol building. While walking back to the dorms on Lake Mendota, we students would often stop for a breakfast-type snack at the Toddle House after a movie. It was clean, friendly, and inexpensive.

Good memories!

—Dan Omernik ’57

There was The Pub located on State Street. One year, the Badgers basketball team was at Ohio State for an afternoon game. We were badly outmatched against a team that included future NBA and Hall of Fame players. We were listening to the game (on radio) at the frat house, and somehow Wisconsin won!

We all raced down to The Pub to celebrate. Now, there were two rules at The Pub that would get you kicked out: number one, dancing on the tables. Number two, “accidentally” dropping and crashing your glass beer mug on the floor.

So, I’m dancing on one of the tables, when the bouncer (future Governor of Wisconsin Tommy Thompson) grabs me to kick me out. At that point, our fraternity president yells: “If Feldman goes, we all go,” and along with everyone else in The Pub, drops his glass beer mug, which crashes on the floor! Then everyone heads for the door as fast as they can. (It took two days to clean up the place.)

Fast forward 25 years or so. Tommy Thompson is now governor. He’s hosting a reception at the Governor’s Mansion for industry folks and publishers to celebrate the 75th anniversary of the American Dairy Association.

There’s a reception line to shake hands with the governor. When it’s my turn, he grabs my hand tightly and says: “I know you from someplace!” So we spend the rest of the reception retelling the story, and the governor graciously takes us on a tour of the mansion.

Solid guy, that governor.  Should have run for president!

—Martin Feldman ’64

I remember many fun and inebriated times at Madison from 1982 to 1986. One of the greatest memories was the Halloween celebration in 1982. The event really blew my mind at the time, as there were over 110,000 people on State Street that Saturday evening. The Badgers crushed Northwestern University earlier that day, and the rest of the day was one big party extravaganza. I remember getting dressed up in Halloween garb and painting my face like a zebra. Walking up State Street that evening was like being a blood cell in a vein. It was really packed. The police greased the light poles, but people still climbed them. There were people stripping in apartment windows above the shops on State Street. There were no rules on carry-ins, and the crushed glass on the street was inches thick. It was amazing that so few people got injured that evening.

One of my favorite bars on State Street was the State Street Infirmary, which was not listed in the article. I liked the bar because they served gyro sandwiches which were just about as good as those at the Parthenon. The bartenders there would give me breaks on paying for the sandwiches and drinks, and often just poured lines of shots on the bar. Unfortunately, one of the last evenings I was there it burned up.

—Rob Martens ’86

The Preston Schmitt State Street article brought back many fond memories. Breakfast at Rennebohm’s before 8:45 classes, and the Chocolate Shoppe was always a treat. One retail store that was omitted was The Clothes Post. They had the proper blue blazer or whatever was needed for the collegiate look.

—William Soman ’70 

Memories of State Street during freshman and sophomore years at Ann Emery Hall (1944–46), with World War II raging. Ann Emery was behind shops on State Street, very handy for those of us living in that dorm.

Cigarettes rationed. Students lined up single-file at the pharm to get one pack. Glad I never smoked.

Chocolate Shoppe a lovely, quiet popular retreat for heavenly chocolate yummies. Great spot to relax with friends and reflect on the day’s activities.

The Cabin (I think that’s what it was called) was a small, popular beer haunt. Sat on the tables, feet on benches. Always crowded.

Ice-skated on Library Mall — beginning of State Street then.

—Joan Chalmers Harris ’48

I graduated from the UW in 1973 and haven’t lived in the area since 1984. I was a frequent customer at The Brathaus because Warren Lamm (Lammy) was my uncle. I have often visited State Street Brats when back in Wisconsin visiting family.

Going further back in State Street history was the Log Cabin. I don’t know when it opened but my father, Paul Lamm, ran the Log Cabin, and I understand that he hired Lammy to work there after he returned from World War II.  I find it interesting that in those days steak sandwiches were 15 cents or two for a quarter.

—Katy Lamm Rogers ’73

To my dismay, there was no mention of The Pub or the Varsity Bar (a.k.a. The Var Bar), both of which thrived on lower State Street for a long time. Although I am admittedly older than dirt, there are quite a few of us ancient grads from the early sixties still doddering around, and I can assure you that those two watering holes are fondly remembered as major facets of our UW experiences.

—Marilyn Taylor ’64

Nice walking down memory lane, but there’s a critical omission: Anthology, owned by Madison natives and UW graduates proudly selling Wisconsin and UW-themed gifts, stickers, and paper products. Little Luxuries is mentioned, and although adjacent, the two are distinct stores and each deserve mention, especially as Anthology is locally owned!

—Ann Fritz MS’96, MS’21

I attended the UW from 1986 to 1990. I have many great memories and a lot of them had to do with walking down State Street, alone or with my friends, eating, drinking, shopping, or celebrating Halloween. One particular restaurant meal I remember and enjoyed was called pork noodle at Shanghai Mini’s. It had the perfect amount of spice to it, Napa cabbage and slippery noodles. I wish it was still around because I would go there when I’m in town. I loved meeting people from so many cultures when I was there.

—Patti Newberg Gerhardt ’90

I was dismayed that the State Street article did not mention an institution that has been present on State Street for 119 years, the Saint Paul’s Catholic Student Center. Granted it may not fit into the commercialization facet of the State Street article but is arguably one of the more prominent buildings on State Street and is a cultural touchstone fondly remembered by many alumni.

—Gerry Gosewehr ’75

I remember buying albums at B-side Records. There was a step or two up into the long narrow shop. They would always have a new album playing.  One day it was the 1985 LP by a reunited UK folk band called Pentangle, Open the Door. I stood and listened to almost the whole album, nothing like I ever appreciated before. I still listen to that album often and never would have been aware of it had it not been for that day.

—Shane Zaruba ’87

I don’t get back to Madison often but each time the many changes around campus are exemplified by the different offerings on State Street. So different from my time at the UW in the mid ’80s, where an excursion to that side of campus was always a treat featuring the three P’s – Paul’s Books, Pegasus Games, and Puzzlebox.

—Jim Pederson ’88

Your State Street article certainly brought back many memories to us. Another eatery we can’t forget is The Plaza Tavern on North Henry Street, just a half block off State Street. In 1964 they began selling the Plazaburger with their secret sauce. We’ve tried to replicate that sauce for years without success. Each week we would bring them a shopping bag of empty Coke bottles using the deposit refund as a downpayment on Plazaburgers! Try one — they are still in business.

—Janice Carlson Donner ’66 and Jack Donner ’65, MBA’66

After I graduated and moved back to St. Louis, I used to dream about walking up and down State Street. Preston Schmitt’s story really brought back some great memories. I used to live two blocks off the Capitol Square and would walk State Street all the time. I dragged my husband up and down that street years later and was happy that I could still get a gyro from the Parthenon.

—Valerie Goldston ’85

I really enjoyed the State Street article. I attended the UW in the late 1950s and was trying to recall the name of the Italian restaurant in a basement on State Street. There were murals on the walls and the owner would sing along with the opera records he played over the sound system. I would go there frequently with a friend and enjoyed the spaghetti.  It was such a favorite place that I proposed to my future wife there and gave her a small ring (poor-student size). We have now been married 65 years.

—Richard Garberson ’60

State Street was a great street. Was. The last time we strolled it I cried.

The massive departures are too much for this alumnus. You know it’s bad when The Pipefitter closed.

It was an eclectic mix of small quirky shops and restaurants. No, the libs in Madison let the riots during COVID go on and vandalize small businesses. No, I don’t want a Target on State Street, nor do I want every chain restaurant or clothing store. High-rise apartments absolutely killed the State Street vibe.

It’s gone. So unfortunate that the heart and soul of campus life is now commercialized.

No, we won’t be back for our several-times-a-year visit. My heart can’t take it.

—Mary Hotchkiss ’77

Just wanted to tell you how much I enjoyed your walk up State Street. Loved the photos and the info about current and, of course, past businesses.

In Ogg West (1970–71) we ordered a lot of Gargano’s pizzas. One nearby dorm door had maybe a couple dozen Gargano’s bill’s taped to it.

The Pub, Chesty’s, Paul’s when the tree was still alive. Marches to the capitol (tear gas and the occasional police club). I appreciate the forbearance and professionalism of the Madison Police.

It’s so nostalgic for me. Enjoy it. It’s wonderful.

 —Scott Wilcott ’86

Jeanne Nye and her granddaughter Charlotte Nye learned about DNA at a biotechnology class at the 2022 Grandparents University. Althea Dotzour

Grandparents University (GPU), the UW–Madison summer event that brings grandkids and their grandparents to campus to enjoy special classes together, was launched by the Wisconsin Alumni Association in 2001. Since then, more than 30 other schools have been inspired to start their own initiatives.

Children between the ages of seven and 14 visit campus with their grandparents or other adults, with many opting to stay in a residence hall. Attendees can register for “majors” in fields ranging from art and music to entomology, nursing, and veterinary science. They also participate in tours of campus destinations such as Camp Randall Stadium, the Geology Museum, and Babcock Dairy.

“We hear all the time from grandparents that kids decided on their college major based on a class they took during Grandparents University,” says Nathalie McFadden ’14, who manages the program.

Julie Underwood, a former dean of UW–Madison’s School of Education, says that her grandkids plan their GPU majors a year in advance. “Kids opening up and learning about things that you would never have an opportunity to teach them — that’s pretty special.” One of her favorite moments was seeing the kids’ faces light up when they got to dance with Bucky Badger at the GPU dance party.

Liz Philosophos Cooper ’77, who attends GPU with her husband, Scott Cooper ’77, and their grandchildren, says the program has lived up to their expectations tenfold. She enjoys experiencing something new through her grandchildren’s eyes and says, “They’re so excited — they talk about it all year round.”

Scott adds that “the instructors do a marvelous job at getting involvement, bringing it down to the kids’ level, and also making it interesting for us.” The kids were thrilled to hear their names called at the graduation ceremony and to choose their own food in the cafeteria. He was also impressed to see how excited they got about the idea of actually attending college when they got older.

During the graduation ceremony, Kate Prehn ’09, who played a key role in the program from 2010 to 2025, began a tradition of asking the children to thank their grandparents. “It is so magical to see them all turn at the same time with huge smiles on their faces, and they throw their arms around each other and high-five,” she says. “It’s just such a special moment. That’s why we do this.”

The nationally syndicated, Peabody Award-winning talk program aired its last episode in fall 2025, but it will not be forgotten — ever. The show’s 2,000-plus episodes have been preserved in the American Archive for Public Broadcasting, a project of the Library of Congress. Fans like me always considered To the Best of Our Knowledge an American treasure, and now it’s official.

The show was an expression of its cocreators’ bottomless curiosity. Steve Paulson MA’83 and Anne Strainchamps were interested in, literally, everything, and they designed To the Best of Our Knowledge to inform and transform their listeners. Each hour-long episode was crafted around an intriguing theme, explored with multiple interviewees and storytelling techniques. Evocative audio snippets and music set the mood for an intellectual and emotional journey.

To the Best of Our Knowledge took the audience’s intelligence as a given, a mark of respect in an age of rampant dumbing-down. It gloried in the world’s great authors, per the commonly used acronym of the show’s name: TTBOOK. Paulson, Strainchamps, and their fellow interviewers were free to explore their personal interests in science, technology, philosophy, history, psychology, spirituality, politics, food, economics, sports, health, and the arts. And their passions became our passions.

Among their hundreds of internationally prominent guests, they spoke to primatologist Jane Goodall about her “mystical experience” with a favorite chimpanzee and to novelist Toni Morrison about “the tiny thoughts that skitter across the imagination.” They put together deep-dive series on the latest psychedelics research and the mind-blowing properties of time. In the best tradition of the Wisconsin Idea, they also featured UW faculty, beaming Madison expertise to the borders of the state and beyond.

Over 35 years, did IQs gradually tick up in the 200 markets where To the Best of Our Knowledge aired? I wouldn’t be surprised.

That’s not to say the show felt like homework. It was always full of laughs and surprises. As it grappled with cosmic questions and eternal mysteries, it also inspired a sense of wonder.

To the Best of Our Knowledge had its peers in the public radio pantheon, such as Fresh Air and This American Life. But it has never — to the best of my knowledge — been surpassed.

Wisconsin Historical Society

In our winter 2025 issue, “Lunch at Rennebohm Drug Store” paid tribute to a go-to gathering spot for UW students from the 1920s to the 1980s. The article spurred this outpouring of letters from fans of Rennebohm’s Bucky Burgers, grilled Danishes, and generous UW scholarships.

Preston Schmitt’s “Lunch at Rennebohm Drug Store” brought back a flood of memories.

As a student at Madison West High School, my friends and I would head to Rennie’s after school for grilled Danish and cherry sodas. If I remember right, the bill was probably under a dollar — and worth every cent. Yep, those Danishes are unforgettable!

Rennebohm’s was also where I had my first job, working as a short-order cook for $2.10 an hour. I especially loved the breakfast rush: there was something satisfying about turning out plate after plate of eggs, pancakes, and toast for the morning regulars.

Later, as a graduate student working at the old UW Hospital Service Memorial Institute building, I found my way back to Rennie’s yet again. My coworkers and I would cross University Avenue for lunch, and it became as much a part of our routine as the work itself.

Rennebohm’s wasn’t just a drugstore or a lunch counter — it was a thread that ran through different stages of my life in Madison. I still miss it.

—Robert Nadler ’77 MS’79

My memory of Renebohm’s is being a short-order cook at the Park Street location close to the Beltline. It was my senior year. I was married and starting as a catcher on the baseball team. (Yes we had a team then.) I don’t remember her name but the lady I worked with was great to me teaching me more than how to cook. A great experience.

—Mike Setzer ’69

In the spring of 1965, I was sitting at my kitchen table in Muscoda, Wisconsin, with both parents working on my budget for going to UW–Madison in the fall. I didn’t have enough money. My parents had none to help me. I had started a savings account at the local bank when I was 12 to start saving for college, but it wasn’t enough. I had some scholarships and qualified for work-study. I would be the first from the family. I couldn’t make the figures work.

I told my parents that unless I got the scholarship from Rennebohm, I would not be able to go. I had applied and was waiting for the result.

A few days later, the letter came from Rennebohm. I tore it open at the post office. I enrolled at UW and frequently ate at the drugstore because I owed them so much.

I’m an international human rights attorney now and hope that my work has repaid them and everyone else who helped me get through college. Thanks from the bottom of my heart.

—Dianne Post ’69, JD’79

Every Sunday at the Rennebohm store on University Avenue across from Liz Waters Hall, I got a grilled Elephant Ear and a large orange juice at the counter. Later in the day it was Paisan’s for a french fried shrimp early dinner. The rest of the week in the basement of the Methodist church, I had three squares, eating at $4.50 a week because I washed the pots and pans after dinner. Can’t beat that!

—Mike Gregg ’58, MBA’63

Memories of Rennebohm Drug Store: a banking window where I could cash a check for $20. Seeing the first copy of Playboy magazine. Having coffee in a booth with friends.

—John Manning ’55

Having been a most grateful Rennebohm scholar in my first two years as a first gen student studying physical therapy at UW, I enjoyed the On Wisconsin article on the Rennebohm drugstores that were everywhere during my time in Madison. This fall I enjoyed a tour of the beautiful new pharmacy building with other members of the Women’s Philanthropy Council. Happy to know it’s named for my benefactor, without whom I would never have been able to afford to attend UW.

—Suzann K. Campbell ’65, MS’68, PhD’73

I was last at Rennie’s on State on a cold December morning in 1979 for breakfast. Then I walked to H. C. White library where I wrote my master’s exam in English. Six and a half hours. I was so relieved after that, I must have broken every law about alcohol and highways getting home. Not proud of that part, but mission accomplished. I’m grateful for those days and the university that provided them.

—Todd Johnson ’73, MA’79

One sister is three years ahead in school and the other three years behind, so I overlapped with each one for a full year. It was great to have a sister on campus at the beginning and end of my college years. One tradition was going to Rennebohm and enjoying a bran muffin and coffee. I did this with both sisters. My younger sister and I did it almost weekly and we enjoyed peanut butter on our muffins too. It was a way to connect, and we loved the muffins and the atmosphere too.

—Maureen Gecht-Silver ’77

Having attended UW–Madison from 1958 to 1966, I often found myself in Rennebohm’s at Lake and State. But the day that will forever be imprinted in my memory is the Saturday afternoon in late May 1960 following a final exam in American history. Descending Bascom Hill, several of us headed immediately to Rennebohm’s for coffee and ice cream, there to discuss the final essay question on the test: “Discuss why members of the U.S. Senate opposed the Smoot-Hawley Tariff bill of 1929.” As we began our discussion, one fellow turned white and dropped his spoon. “Wait,” he cried, “are you sure the prof asked why members of the Senate opposed the legislation?” We nodded. “Oh my God!” he shouted. “I discussed why some in the Senate supported it.”

With that, he dashed out, shouting over his shoulder that he had to catch the professor and explain what happened. As it turned out, the professor found his essay worthy of consideration and gave him full credit. Our group passed the course with flying colors!

—Theodore J. Cohen ’60, MS’61, PhD’66

I worked at the Rennebohm lunch counter during my student days. On my usual late-afternoon and evening shifts, the atmosphere was always relaxed and cordial. While visiting with one of the pharmacists on his Bucky Burger break, I learned that he was my third cousin once removed. Badger football coach Milt Bruhn and Madison realtor and future Governor Pat Lucey were occasional customers. My grandparents, Chauncey and Mabel Wolferman, were church friends of Oscar Rennebohm, although I never met him.

Rennebohm treated their employees like family, and as lunch counter staff we were always allowed to consume as many grilled Danish, milkshakes, and anything else we wanted, without charge. Happy memories!

—Richard C. Haney, PhD ’70

I loved “Lunch at Rennenbohm Drug Store.” What a great flood of good memories! During my UW years, I was nearby as I lived at Lowell Hall when it opened as a dorm and then at 252 Langdon Street at the Sigma Delta Tau house. It was a frequent plan to say, “Let’s meet at Rennie’s for lunch.” It was always fun and delicious!

—Patty Eisberg Kaplan ’65

I remember my roomie and I going to the counter in early am to get 2 eggs and toast for 65 cents. Those were the days.

—Brian Weir ’79

Celina Vogt Current: “I remember presenting my first seriously melting banana split to an understanding customer with shaking hands.”

Wow, it was a flashback to see the picture of Rennebohm’s State Street store. I worked there between my junior and senior high school years in the summer of 1956. (I lived in Brooklyn and my girlfriend’s father knew Mr. Rennebohm.) Making Cokes with syrup and soda water and malted milks was a big step above babysitting for two 16-year-olds. On one Saturday morning, we were educated regarding the complexities of being a soda jerk. We were issued uniforms (see photo) and given a work location and a schedule. Little did I know what was coming. I became part of a community. We had our regular customers and really got to know people. It was influential in making me want to be a part of the university culture.

There were some uncomfortable moments. The manager of food services was a little scary, always frowning at us, and I remember presenting my first seriously melting banana split to an understanding customer with shaking hands. We used to joke that the statue representing “Forward,” on top of the capitol, was actually representing Mrs. Rennebohm pointing out the next location for a Rennebohm Drug Store. Happy days!

—Celinda Vogt Current ’61

I remember having a coffee at Rennebohm on State Street and seeing a picture in LIFE magazine of U.S. soldiers in body bags, piled up on a tank after the Tet Offensive in 1968. It is a sad and brutal memory that stays with me to this day.

—John Goodman ’69

Your article on Rennie’s was spot on! It was also one place that cashed student checks. You had to go to the back counter and weren’t required to purchase anything. The amount didn’t matter. For me, they cheerfully cashed my checks for $2, which could buy me eight small glasses of beer at the Pub! Money went a long way back in the day. Thanks for the memories.

—Stephen Halloway ’69

When my parents were dating and both attending UW Madison in 1956, my dad (Ronald Walz ’58) worked at Rennebohm on State and Lake while studying pharmacy. My mom drew a picture for their “Dating Days” scrapbook capturing my dad’s evening shift at the Rennebohm pharmacy counter.

My parents married in October of 1958 and settled in Milwaukee. My dad worked as a pharmacist for over 30 years. My dad would say his career in pharmacy began at Rennebohm!

—Susan Walz Berry ’83

I enjoyed your article on Rennebohm’s. The first I heard of Rennebohm’s was from my Ogg Hall house fellow telling us that it was really Mrs. Rennebohm atop the state capitol, pointing and saying, “Put another one over there!” And although I enjoyed a burger from Rennies, my main memory is a sad one. During my senior year we had a great party at our upper flat out on East Johnson. Most of our college friends were there, and I shot two rolls of film of everybody dancing and partying. I dropped the film off at Rennebohm’s, but when I returned to pick up the pictures it had disappeared, leaving the memories of that night to fade over time. So as an appeal to my classmates of that era, if you are holding on to a stack of pictures of people you don’t recognize, probably having a good time, reach out to me! I’d love them back!

—Gary Anderson ’79

One turbulent night in 1970, my friend John and I were out watching the antiwar demonstrations going on and found ourselves at the corner of Lake and State streets. Suddenly, a large group of demonstrators began throwing rocks. One hit me in the leg, and other rocks smashed the windows at Rennebohm’s. Police and demonstrators then appeared everywhere.

John and I ran up State Street and then down an alley. But the police must have thought we were part of the demonstrators and shot tear gas canisters at us in the narrow alley. I could barely see, and we ended up at a makeshift first aid station at the Hillel center.

We recovered, and a cute girl assured me I would not go blind. But Rennebohm’s never did recover. Ever since that night, the walls facing State and Lake were covered with concrete.

—Jim Hill ’71, MS’76

1. My mother worked at Rennebohm’s #1 (University Avenue across from what was then University Hospital) in the early 1950s. There she met a man. She thought he was the homeliest guy she’d ever seen. He thought she was the world’s worst waitress. So of course, they got married.
2. I worked at Rennebohm’s #10 — the one pictured in your article, at the corner of State and Lake — in the mid-1970s. There was a guy who came in regularly as a break from studying for his prelims. One day, when I was working the cash register in the cafeteria, he said to me, “Oh, it looks like you have something in your eye.” As he reached toward me, I closed my eyes and he stole a kiss. The next day when he came in, he asked if I’d liked it. I said yes. And about four years later, we got married.
3. A joke in my family went something like this: “Do you know who that is on top of the capitol building?” Most people would answer “Miss Forward.” We would then say, “No, that’s Mrs. Rennebohm, picking out the location for their next store.”

—Ruth (Witzeling) Flescher ’79

Interesting story about Rennebohm’s. I searched through some of my estate sale acquisitions from the past and saw that the regular menu had a daily supplement. It had to be typed up and actually dated for the day. Wow, what a buck could buy in 1946.

—Michael Kratochwill ’75, ’89

It was in 1960, with anticipation and trepidation, that I, a junior in the UW School of Pharmacy, reported for work at Rennebohm’s number one, Oscar’s first pharmacy at the corner of University and Randall. I knew that Rennie’s featured the Bucky Burger and grilled Danish as well as newspapers, cigars, and alarm clocks, but I didn’t know much else about retail pharmacy. That summer, I became an intern pharmacist, graduated in 1961, and became a registered pharmacist a short time later. I retired after 50 years standing behind the counters visiting with folks. Only good memories now remain of the corner pharmacy, its soda fountains, its remedies, and especially its customers.

—Ken Onsrud ’61

In the early 1960s, my girlfriend at the time worked as a cashier at Rennebohm. She moved from store to store as was needed. Familiar with the cost of many things, she noticed a significant price difference at the Rennebohm store nearest Sorority Row. Tampax, Kotex and other feminine products were priced higher at the store closest to the sorority girls. Rennebohm knew how to stick it to women.

—Ray Uhler ’63

Your article on Rennebohm Drug Store sure jogged my memory! The Pharm was a go-to place during my four years at Madison. In 1949 I had a lab mate who worked there, on the late shift. She mentioned to me that she was apprehensive going home alone at night, and that her boyfriend couldn’t walk her home as he worked a later job. I said she could call me and I would come over and walk her home. I lived in a fraternity on North Henry Street and was not too far away. She started calling me at the fraternity around 9:30 pm on our only phone, so whoever answered would yell my name and say, “Finke, some girl wants to talk to you!” I would get to the phone and tell her I was on my way. This went on for about two months, and then she said her boyfriend told her not to call me anymore!

And the lab course was ending. I never saw her again!

—Dick Finke ’52