Former student recalls Goheen’s integrity, cheer

And how could politics and the tectonic cultural shifts of the 1960s have done anything but put us on opposite sides of a generational divide? I don’t think he supported the Vietnam War in any shape or fashion, nor do I believe he had a racist bone in his body, but the times were a changin’, and for those of us who were lucky enough to be young, it seemed that everything was being transformed. We were determined to be the agents of change, and the University was where we happened to be. It was a good thing to oppose that war — I almost said “terrible war,” but then, they all are — and it was and still is right to try to redress the tragic flaw of racism in our splendid republic. In retrospect, both Princeton and Bob Goheen probably had less to answer for in that regard than many of the other institutions of society.

But we were young and we were there, and the University was our only forum. Bob Goheen, with his slightly befuddled “Goodbye, Mr. Chips” mien, was as confused by the changes in society and in his beloved Princeton as we were determined to do something — anything — to change the status quo.

It’s funny, but when I think back about my dealings with Bob Goheen, the image that comes to mind is running into him and his wife Peggy coming out of a movie theater in Paris in the summer of 1968. This was shortly after the March on Nassau Hall that spring. I had been invited as the American representative to a UNESCO Conference on “The Future of the University” (I guess they figured a Princeton student was a pretty sure bet to fritter away his time chasing chorus girls around the Folies Bergere and steer clear of radical politics). The movie was “The Graduate.” I had laughed myself silly and, so, apparently, had Bob. We joked about the clueless Benjamin Braddock and marveled at the Machiavellian Mrs. Robinson. A warm summer’s night, a nice chat, Paris.

That next year — my senior year — was fraught with conflict, which I would rather have had with almost anyone other than Bob Goheen; he just didn’t feel like the enemy. On the most important issue that he and I faced and on which we could hope to have some effect, though, we were in agreement. I am speaking, of course, of the admission of women to Princeton. Forty years later, Americans are once again divided on the issue of a misguided war and not yet united on the cure for our social inequities, but now we can say (with some Princetonian pride) that we have alumnae like Michelle Obama ’85 and Meg Whitman ’77 as leaders in our national conversation. That would make a fair-minded fellow like Bob Goheen very proud because he was a nice guy, and a good one too.