Desert yearbook remains alive in its editorsā memories

Lorraine Olshansky remembers that in 1953 everyone had to have a yearbook, that indispensable chronicle of student life.

The Desert captured the University of Arizona's friendly campus and the way of life for students, Olshansky says. Playing bridge in the Student Union basement, swimming on weekdays, skiing at Mount Lemmon on the weekends.

Arizona was a "play school," says the former yearbook staffer. The Desert depicted that campus mood, and no one was without a yearbook.

But those times were different times.

After publishing only 934 copies for 33,737 students on campus and losing a total of $200,000 in the 1990s the University of Arizona ceased publication of the Desert yearbook in 1997.

It may be a sign of the times that a yearbook is no longer important to students.

"(The yearbook) is an interesting trend that mirrors society," says Valerie Miller, the final editor in chief of the Desert. "We used to be into family and community relationships and social events-those things that would tie us together, like a yearbook."

But with little student interest in the 1990s and funding that was dependent on sales, the Desert was no longer feasible. The yearbook's $30 price didn't meet the cost of production with sales below 1,000.

Too few students were buying copies to keep it alive, says Mark Woodhams, the director of student media.

The staff knew that the end of the yearbook was coming, says Najah Swartz, the Desert academic editor from 1995 to 1996 and assistant editor in 1997. She says students were no longer aware of the yearbook, and those who did know about it were not interested in buying it.

"We used to laugh that our favorite thing to say around the basement was, 'Yearbook, what yearbook?'" Swartz says.

Between 1987 and 1997 yearbook sales dropped by almost 4,000 copies a year, Woodhams says.

Lack of student interest in college yearbooks appears to be a national trend. In 1997, the same year that the Desert was canceled, Arizona State University also stopped publication of its yearbook. According to a December 1997 article in The Arizona Republic, the University of Hawaii and Ball State have also seen their yearbooks disappear.

In the 1950s and 1960s the University was smaller with less people to include in the yearbook making more students interested in buying it, Woodhams says.

In 1953 only 5,843 students were enrolled at the university. Purchase of the yearbook was included in a student fee, so every student received one.

Chuck Lee, who in 1952 was the Desert assistant editor, considers himself privileged to have been one of the first students to occupy the new Memorial Student Union.

Students loved the new union. In the Desert it was called the "headquarters for students at work and at play." One picture shows students enjoying music in the "listening room" while lounging on its "ultra modern chaise lounges."

In 1953 Olshansky was thrilled to be on a committee for the Desert.

Like her colleague Olshansky, Diane Weintraub, a staff member of the Desert from 1953 to 1955, also remembers the enthusiasm in student life and the popularity of the yearbook.

"It was the thing you did," Weintraub says. "Everybody had a copy of the yearbook. It is such a memorable thing to have."

The yearbooks of Olshansky and Weintraub's era featured parties, teas and the Greeks' annual carnival.

Every now and then, Weintraub says, people will call her and she will pick up her yearbook to see their face. It is sad that students will no longer be able to do this, she says.

As times changed, so did the Desert. In 1987 the Desert's theme was Wildcat Country. Photographs show men and women in bell bottomed pants and paisley blouses. Long hair was the rage. Nearly 70,000 people attended a Kenny Loggins concert held at the football stadium. It was the "largest gathering of people in one place in Arizona history" at that time. The Associated Students of the University of Arizona and the Arizona Heart Association sponsored the concert and many others, including Fleetwood Mac.

For many students the best part of being involved with the yearbook was the sense of unity.

"I loved putting in extra time working with others to put out a quality product," says James McKnight. He began in 1986 as a copywriter and page editor. In 1987 he became the assistant editor and in 1988 he moved to editor in chief.

James' sister, Jean McKnight, knew that the yearbook was in danger during her time as editor of the Desert from 1986 to 1987. Each yearbook cost $20. In 1987 only one in seven students bought a yearbook. Their staff worked hard to publicize the yearbook with posters on campus and enticing students with gimmicks, she says.

Jean McKnight says she loved every minute of working on the Desert.

She served on the Student Publications Board for two years, participating in decisions made concerning the Desert. She could see in 1997 that with the shrinking university budget and the forever increasing student ratio "the deck was stacked against them."

She wasn't the only editor of the Desert who knew that the yearbook was close to shutting down.

Frank Nguyen, editor of the Desert from 1994 to 1995, made a commitment to himself to put the yearbook back on track.

"After the hard work that my staff put into winning an AP award, I felt we proved that the Desert could be legitimate," Nguyen says. "Unfortunately, my efforts only bought the program a couple more years of survival."

He hopes that someday the Desert is revived, creating more enthusiasm among students.

"It's human nature to not appreciate things until they are gone," Nguyen says.