The Virginian-Pilot
                             THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT 
              Copyright (c) 1996, Landmark Communications, Inc.

DATE: Wednesday, February 14, 1996           TAG: 9602140378
SECTION: LOCAL                    PAGE: B1   EDITION: FINAL 
SOURCE: BY PHILIP WALZER, STAFF WRITER 
                                             LENGTH: Long  :  273 lines

BACK IN THE CLASSROOM IN VIRGINIA, SOME COLLEGE PRESIDENTS ARE TAKING TIME FROM THEIR BUSY SCHEDULES TO RETURN TO THEIR ROOTS AND TEACH STUDENTS.

Professor Koch offered his class one of the less-popular reasons for the American defeat of the Japanese during World War II: Maybe it had more to do with America's financial edge than with superior military training.

``If you talk to U.S. Marines, they would like to believe we had superior troops,'' he told nearly 20 students taking his World War II history course at Old Dominion University one recent night. ``But what's also true is that the typical soldier had the logistics and equipment and support behind him that the other side never had.''

Then, point by point, he focused on the Pearl Harbor attack: how it happened, why the attack didn't lead to total victory for Japan, whether the U.S. military commanders in the Pacific should have known better.

He sounded as if he spends most of his working days researching the Second World War. He doesn't.

Professor Koch is also President Koch, whose main job is to be the leader of Old Dominion. James V. Koch is among a growing number of university presidents who are finding time in between wooing donors, buttonholing legislators and running their schools to return to their roots and teach students.

In Virginia, the other president/teachers include Regent's Terry Lindvall (film comedies and humor), Virginia Tech's Paul E. Torgersen (industrial

engineering) and Virginia Commonwealth's Eugene P. Trani (Russian history). The newest university president in the region, Christopher Newport's Paul S. Trible Jr., began teaching a course on leadership and politics just a couple of weeks after taking the helm last month.

Most teach one course every year and say it requires about six hours a week of preparation, often done after hours.

Some acknowledge that teaching provides a welcome relief from the more tedious and stressful parts of the job. ``It's really the only time of the day I know what I'm doing,'' joked Torgersen, who teaches Theories of Organization to more than 90 students three mornings a week. ``It's really almost the highlight of the day for me; it's just a marvelous hour.''

Trible said his time in the classroom sends a powerful message across campus about what counts. ``I think symbols are important in any leadership position,'' he said. ``What we've always valued at Christopher Newport University is excellent teaching. I want to, in my words and actions, honor teaching and ensure that fine teaching always remains the highest priority.''

The presidents also say it gets them down from the ivory tower and keeps them in touch with students. In fact, the students in both Koch's and Trible's classes give them high marks.

``I'm rather impressed with his teaching skills,'' said Brian Graham, a history major in Koch's course. ``He's a lot more down to earth and in touch with students than I thought big university presidents would be.''

Now, Graham said he wouldn't hesitate to ask Koch ``anything I need to know about college.''

From Koch's perspective, ``It forces a president to see things through faculty eyes. If the media equipment doesn't work or the VCR isn't delivered or it's too cold or too hot, I feel that immediately. Those are things faculty members experience on a daily basis.''

And with that knowledge, Koch said, ``I think I can do a better job representing us in Richmond. . . . If they ask, `Why do you need additional technology?' I can give them a very specific experience of what has or hasn't worked.''

John T. Casteen III, the president of the University of Virginia, had been teaching an occasional English course. But he stopped a few years ago because he needed to spend more time on the road to shepherd U.Va.'s capital campaign.

Yet Torgersen said his teaching can help him win points with potential donors. ``When I speak to the alumni chapters, they love the idea that the president is teaching,'' he said. ``When I'm involved with fund-raising, it's helpful that I can demonstrate this commitment to undergraduate education, which they think is the primary purpose of the university.''

Some presidents have never gotten the chance to teach while they've been in office. Timothy J. Sullivan regularly taught classes as law dean of the College of William and Mary. But he stopped when he became president in 1992. ``This has been a tumultuous 3 1/2 years,'' Sullivan said, ``and I wouldn't do a job I'd be satisfied with. . . . If I have pride in anything, it is that I was a good teacher and I wouldn't want to go into a classroom and be less than a good teacher.''

Trani, VCU's president, had similar qualms while he was teaching his history course three years ago. So he came up with a compromise: He would team-teach classes. Last fall, he taught four sessions of a seminar on Russian and U.S. perceptions of each other.

This semester, Koch and Trible are the only university presidents teaching in the region. They come to their subjects from different perspectives. Koch's specialty is economics, but he has been fascinated by the war since college, where he gained Illinois certification to teach high school history: ``It seemed to me that it was the seminal experience of the 20th century; nearly everything we see now is somehow connected to World War II.''

Trible's interest in leadership is more personal: He's a former U.S. senator and member of the House. ``Hopefully, what I bring is not only a thoughtful discussion of the philosophy of leadership, but also a discussion of the practical application of all this to the real world.''

Their styles differ, too. During a recent class, Koch offered a lecture packed with facts and even-handed theories about Pearl Harbor.

Adm. Husband Kimmel and Gen. Walter Short were drummed out of the military for failing to anticipate Pearl Harbor. Were they unfairly cast as fall guys? ``One can make the case that they weren't told all they could have been told and they weren't given the resources they needed,'' Koch said. Yet they placed air reconnaissance missions in all the wrong places and blithely ignored the warning signs.

The Japanese goofed, too. ``At the very least, they should have come back again. . . . Had they destroyed our oil supply, it would have been difficult for us to do anything at Coral Sea or Midway. It doesn't take expert marksmanship to hit a big oil tank. That would have made a tremendous difference in terms of the length of the war.''

In contrast, one of Trible's first sessions was more touchy-feely, with lots of give-and-take with the two dozen students. ``My purpose is to have fun and learn together,'' he said. ``My intention is for us to have a conversation and not to give a speech.''

He asked the class: How would you like to be remembered?

Octavius Pinkard, a senior majoring in international relations, offered this: ``That I was always there for my family; I didn't think of myself, but I always thought of them.''

Trible's response: ``I couldn't think of anything better.''

Others talked about honesty and changing the world. The point, Trible said, is that a strong leader has to stand for something. But sometimes there are painful sacrifices.

He told the class that he thought he'd been ``Super Political Dad.'' He'd sometimes miss Senate votes to attend school assemblies. He made sure to always be home Sundays. But he learned the truth after he left politics and was a visiting lecturer at Harvard University's John F. Kennedy School of Government. His son was in the class one day at Harvard, and he was asked what it was like to have a senator as a father.

``And my little guy said: `For nine years, I never saw my Dad, and then I moved to Boston, and it was wonderful.' The room was as quiet as this room is. I had tears in my eyes.

``You can't fool children. I was there, but he was telling me I was 1,000 miles away. I was thinking of the last press conference, the last bad headline, and I knew that.''

Professor Koch offered his class one of the less-popular reasons for the American defeat of the Japanese during World War II: Maybe it had more to do with America's financial edge than with superior military training.

``If you talk to U.S. Marines, they would like to believe we had superior troops,'' he told nearly 20 students taking his World War II history course at Old Dominion University one recent night. ``But what's also true is that the typical soldier had the logistics and equipment and support behind him that the other side never had.''

Then, point by point, he focused on the Pearl Harbor attack: how it happened, why the attack didn't lead to total victory for Japan, whether the U.S. military commanders in the Pacific should have known better.

He sounded as if he spends most of his working days researching the Second World War. He doesn't.

Professor Koch is also President Koch, whose main job is to be the leader of Old Dominion. James V. Koch is among a growing number of university presidents who are finding time in between wooing donors, buttonholing legislators and running their schools to return to their roots and teach students.

In Virginia, the other president/teachers include Regent's Terry Lindvall (film comedies and humor), Virginia Tech's Paul E. Torgersen (industrial engineering) and Virginia Commonwealth's Eugene P. Trani (Russian history). The newest university president in the region, Christopher Newport's Paul S. Trible Jr., began teaching a course on leadership and politics just a couple of weeks after taking the helm last month.

Most teach one course every year and say it requires about six hours a week of preparation, often done after hours.

Some acknowledge that teaching provides a welcome relief from the more tedious and stressful parts of the job.

``It's really the only time of the day I know what I'm doing,'' joked Torgersen, who teaches Theories of Organization to more than 90 students three mornings a week. ``It's really almost the highlight of the day for me; it's just a marvelous hour.''

Trible said his time in the classroom sends a powerful message across campus about what counts. ``I think symbols are important in any leadership position,'' he said. ``What we've always valued at Christopher Newport University is excellent teaching. I want to, in my words and actions, honor teaching and ensure that fine teaching always remains the highest priority.''

The presidents also say it gets them down from the ivory tower and keeps them in touch with students. In fact, the students in both Koch's and Trible's classes give them high marks.

``I'm rather impressed with his teaching skills,'' said Brian Graham, a history major in Koch's course. ``He's a lot more down to earth and in touch with students than I thought big university presidents would be.''

Now, Graham said he wouldn't hesitate to ask Koch ``anything I need to know about college.'' If more presidents taught classes, he said, ``it would make students feel more comfortable going to administrators with their questions and concerns.''

From Koch's perspective, ``It forces a president to see things through faculty eyes. If the media equipment doesn't work or the VCR isn't delivered or it's too cold or too hot, I feel that immediately. Those are things faculty members experience on a daily basis.''

And with that knowledge, Koch said, ``I think I can do a better job representing us in Richmond. . . . If they ask, `Why do you need additional technology?' I can give them a very specific experience of what has or hasn't worked.''

John T. Casteen III, the president of the University of Virginia, had been teaching an occasional English course. But he stopped a few years ago because he needed to spend more time on the road to shepherd U.Va.'s capital campaign.

Yet Torgersen said his teaching can help him win points with potential donors.

``When I speak to the alumni chapters, they love the idea that the president is teaching,'' he said. ``When I'm involved with fund-raising, it's helpful that I can demonstrate this commitment to undergraduate education, which they think is the primary purpose of the university.''

Some presidents have never gotten the chance to teach while they've been in office. Timothy J. Sullivan regularly taught classes as law dean of the College of William and Mary. But he stopped when he became president in 1992.

``This has been a tumultuous 3 1/2 years,'' Sullivan said, ``and I wouldn't do a job I'd be satisfied with. . . . If I have pride in anything, it is that I was a good teacher and I wouldn't want to go into a classroom and be less than a good teacher.''

Trani, VCU's president, had similar qualms while he was teaching his history course three years ago. So he came up with a compromise: He would team-teach classes. Last fall, he taught four sessions of a seminar on Russian and U.S. perceptions of each other.

This semester, Koch and Trible are the only university presidents teaching in the region. They come to their subjects from different perspectives. Koch's specialty is economics, but he has been fascinated by the war since college, where he gained Illinois certification to teach high school history: ``It seemed to me that it was the seminal experience of the 20th century; nearly everything we see now is somehow connected to World War II.''

Trible's interest in leadership is more personal: He's a former U.S. senator and member of the House. ``Hopefully,'' he said, ``what I bring is not only a thoughtful discussion of the philosophy of leadership, but also a discussion of the practical application of all this to the real world.''

Their styles differ, too. During a recent class, Koch offered a lecture jam-packed with facts and even-handed theories about Pearl Harbor.

Adm. Husband Kimmel and Gen. Walter Short were drummed out of the military for failing to anticipate Pearl Harbor. Were they unfairly cast as the fall guys? ``One can make the case that they weren't told all they could have been told and they weren't given the resources they needed,'' Koch said. Yet they placed air reconnaissance missions in all the wrong places and blithely ignored the warning signs.

Of course, the Japanese goofed, too. ``At the very least, they should have come back again. . . . Had they destroyed our oil supply, it would have been difficult for us to do anything at Coral Sea or Midway. It doesn't take expert marksmanship to hit a big oil tank. That would have made a tremendous difference in terms of the length of the war.''

And how come Douglas MacArthur, who presided over the defeat of the Philippines, came away unscathed? ``He became known for his resolute defense of the Philippines and for saying, `I shall return.' Critics say he had an effective publicity engine and Kimmel and Short didn't. Supporters said he did what he could.

``It's another one of those arguments that will never be settled.''

In contrast, one of Trible's first sessions was more touchy-feely, with lots of give-and-take with the two dozen students. ``My purpose is to have fun and learn together,'' he said. ``My intention is for us to have a conversation and not to give a speech.''

He asked the class: How would you like to be remembered?

Octavius Pinkard, a senior majoring in international relations, offered this: ``That I was always there for my family; I didn't think of myself, but I always thought of them.''

Trible's response: ``I couldn't think of anything better.''

Others talked about honesty and changing the world. The point, Trible said, is that a strong leader has to stand for something. But sometimes there are painful sacrifices.

He told the class that he thought he'd been ``Super Political Dad.'' He'd sometimes miss Senate votes to attend school assemblies. He made sure to always be home Sundays. But he learned the truth after he left politics and was a visiting lecturer at Harvard University's John F. Kennedy School of Government. His son was in the class one day at Harvard, and he was asked what it was like to have a senator as a father.

``And my little guy said: `For nine years, I never saw my Dad, and then I moved to Boston, and it was wonderful.' The room was as quiet as this room is. I had tears in my eyes.

``You can't fool children. I was there, but he was telling me I was 1,000 miles away. I was thinking of the last press conference, the last bad headline, and I knew that.'' ILLUSTRATION: Color photos

BETH BERGMAN/The Virginian-Pilot

Old Dominion University President James V. Koch is teaching a course

on World War II this semester.

GARY C. KNAPP

Christopher Newport President Paul S. Trible Jr. began teaching a

course just weeks after taking the helm last month.

by CNB