The Beginning, The Middle, The Future: A Journey Through Southeastern’s First Century
Explore a vision becoming a reality, the reaching of a turning point, and where we are now—and are going next—through a trio of stories.
Sheri Gibson
Explore a vision becoming a reality, the reaching of a turning point, and where we are now—and are going next—through a trio of stories.
Sheri Gibson
As Southeastern celebrates its Centennial, we take a sweeping look at its remarkable story. In this three-part series, we journey through “The Beginning,” where a bold vision laid roots for what would become Southeastern; explore “The Middle,” a decade of evolution that bridged the old and the new; and envision “The Future,” as Southeastern builds on its legacy to inspire generations to come. Together, these chapters capture the heart of an institution that builds on its past while striving for the boundless possibilities ahead.
1925 | From Vision to Reality
Legend has it that on a crisp, clear morning in the dawn of 1925, as a lit stove struggled to combat the icy morning air, Linus Sims sat at his wooden breakfast table, staring at the newspaper in front of him. Taking slow sips from a cup of coffee, feeling the warmth flood him, his thoughts began to clarify and take shape.
Linus was the principal of nearby Hammond High School. But to his students and their parents, he was more than this. He didn’t just provide administrative oversight—he had made it his mission in life to inspire and guide young minds toward greater possibilities. To him, the transformative power of learning was one of the most important things there is.
But there was a problem. Many of the children who attended his school did not come from wealthy families, instead being raised by strawberry farmers and small modest shopkeepers, and there wasn’t a college within a commutable distance. For the ones who could afford to go away after finishing at the high school, their parents did not feel it allowable for them to be on their own yet. They believed they were still too young and malleable to be out in the world, living in an unfamiliar place without parental guidance, on their own.
These kids were smart. They had hopes and dreams of their own. But for many of them, they could only be dreams, and their formal studies were forced to end at high school.
Yet, Linus knew Hammond could be the perfect spot for them to continue. At the heart of town, the railroads crisscrossed like veins, connecting Hammond to the wider world and fueling its growth as a commercial hub. Lines had made their way there in the 1850s, but it wasn’t until the 1890s—with promotion of the town in the Midwest; an influx of Italian immigrants; and, primarily, the growth of the local
strawberry industry—that the area really began to boom. By 1925, streets lined with modest bungalows and Craftsman-style homes bore witness to a community on the rise, while the bustling downtown showcased shops and businesses that reflected the town’s promise. Hammond was rooted in the rhythms of agriculture, but the hum of progress had also become palpable.
Linus looked down at the paper again, the problem rolling through his mind. That day, January 6, 1925, there was an article on the insistence of longtime State Superintendent of Public Education T. H. Harris that Louisiana establish a junior college system. Having already read it through once, Linus skimmed back through it, steadily becoming more energized.
“There is a growing demand in Louisiana for the establishment of locally supported junior colleges, that is, local institutions offering the first two years of college work. . . . There is no reason why the locally supported junior college should not offer instruction of the class that is offered by the state-supported institutions; nor should the instruction be more expensive to the public.”
This was it. This was what they needed. It wasn’t a new thought that a college was needed more locally. But the support of Harris for it—that was big.
Linus was known for being a practical man, but he was also idealistic. The paper still lying in his hand, he began to envision how this could help the kids at his school. The kids he had watched grow up, had gotten to know. How it could affect their children, and their children’s children. Why couldn’t they start a junior college right here? They could do it. The lightbulb had lit, and there would be no turning it off ever again. A spark in a place already brimming with possibility.
Filled with an excited energy and not letting the thought out of his head, Linus got up. It was time to head to work at the school. Taking one last glance at the paper, he headed out.
Before he reached the two-story building near downtown, he ran into his buddy Oscar Donaldson—who just happened to also be president of the Chamber of Commerce and a local businessman. Linus couldn’t help share his idea for starting a junior college right in their town. Oscar was immediately in. Now it was time to get more people on board.
By this time, Hammond was already abuzz with talk of getting a junior college. While the months drew on, the chatter spread, from dinner tables to workplace chitchat and running into friends in the bustling downtown shops. By and large, the community was all for it. This could actually happen in their town.
This enthusiasm from the people in the area helped seal the deal, and eventually Harris was on board too—if they could figure out a way to pay for it. Time for the hardest battle yet.
Linus and fellow supporters of the college charged ahead full force, campaigning with zeal for the passage of a tax during that July’s voting—a tax that would be essential to helping fund the school’s startup. It would pass, it just had to, Linus thought.
But while the politicking had to be kept at the forefront, and long, sometimes tumultuous hours were spent debating with opponents, there were more matters Linus still had to focus on. The college was in plans to open that September.
Just a few months to get a college off the ground. Linus couldn’t stop, couldn’t slow down. He planned curriculum. He recruited students. And he recruited faculty—provisionally, of course, as there was still just the tiny issue of securing funding for their salaries.
Then, the tax passed. Plans were approved. But there was still barely time to take a breath. The school would open in two months.
But open it did. With space secured in two rooms and a janitor’s closet at the high school, and Linus playing double duty as the secondary school’s principal and college’s president, Hammond Junior College opened its doors on a warm, clear Monday morning for the first time. There would be even better news for the newspapers that day: September 14, 1925.
And so the legend—and the legacy—begins.
1975 | Coming of Age
By 1975, Southeastern was no longer the small junior college Linus Sims launched in two borrowed classrooms in the high school. It had grown into a bustling university, one that was beginning to take recognizable shape—with a well-developed yet still lushly green campus spanning 365 acres of its own. Spurts of rapid growth had prompted the addition of some of today’s most iconic buildings, from 1934’s McGehee Hall to 1973’s Cate Teacher Education Center, while the enduring oaks played witness to the rise and fall of other structures along the way, including the Pop House—an iconic student gathering spot—and the flood of WWII era G-buildings.
Southeastern had indeed physically grown and evolved a great deal in the past five decades; but more importantly, it had also been, in a sense, growing up and coming into its own.
On one front, academics were reaching new heights. Although starting as a two-year junior college in 1925, Southeastern became a full-fledged college in 1928. The first baccalaureate degrees were conferred 11 years later. In 1946, the school received accreditation from the
Southern Association of Colleges and Schools Commission on Colleges, a mark of the rising standards. In 1960, Southeastern began offering its first master’s degrees, and only four years after that the first nursing program was established—one of numerous new programs that had been implemented over the years.
By 1970, the school had grown into a comprehensive regional university, earning another name change: Southeastern Louisiana University.
This same year, near the height of the Vietnam War, the Army Reserve Officer Training Building was opened—with General Westmoreland, chief of staff of the US Army, paying a visit. This facility was created to house the new ROTC program, which played a crucial role in preparing students for military service.
Southeastern was not immune from the issues in the outside world and the wars being fought elsewhere; it had faced them before. During WWII, 29 students lost their lives for the cause, while the dwindled number who stayed behind pitched in daily in their community—from watching for enemy bombers in Strawberry Stadium to helping save the local strawberry crops.
During Vietnam, especially compared to other campuses across the country, Southeastern remained a relatively calm, safe haven. While many felt it their duty to support the war efforts this time as well, there were, expectantly, others who felt the need to show their dissent—through debates and peaceful protests with signs and sit-ins, such as for the arrival of General Westmoreland.
But the swirling together of the draft and the women’s rights movement had begun to create a seismic shift in students’ minds, as it did for others in the outside world, causing renewed perspectives and desire for more independence.
Until the ’70s, universities served as a sort of surrogate parent for students, with strict rules in place for their behavior both on and off campus. The regulations instituted may be laughable to today’s youth, but for most of the first half of Southeastern’s history they were the norm and expected.
Attending every class was required. Reports on attendance were collected every hour, and anyone who missed without an excuse note had to report to the dean’s office. An abundance of skipped classes and they faced suspension.
For many students, though, it was the personal regulations that began to hit even harder.
When it came to way of life, students had to reside on campus, with exceptions given to those who could live with their parents or who had to support a family. In the campus housing, there were many rules in place to continue the expectations of wholesomeness lingering from earlier decades, particularly ones pertaining to curfews, lights-out time, guests, and alcohol.
Women’s housing monitors would complete checklist forms on each resident, keeping track of such things as their moral character, physical appearance, dating habits, drinking habits, and attitude to authority—a practice that was quickly disbanded upon students finding out in 1970.
As for dress codes on campus, men had to wear collared shirts, while women were relegated to dresses and skirts—with the exception of being able to wear shorts or pants to and from the gym if they were completely covered by a coat. While the codes did adapt some to changing fashions, such as allowing women to wear miniskirts, these base rules remained in place despite the rising prevalence of women wearing pants in the outside world.
The debate was growing on what the role of a college or university should be. Historically it had been the parent figure, feeling a sense of obligation to students’ parents and society to essentially finish raising them until they were ready to get married or make their own way in the world. But students were increasingly questioning this, viewing themselves now as independent adults and, more and more, the school as a service provider—with them being the customer. They saw the historical ways as outdated and in need of a real shakeup.
In 1974, leading into Southeastern’s 50th year, this shift reached its peak, with layers of the past—and, for a time, clothing—falling by the wayside.
That spring a streaking craze was making its way across the country. On March 4, it hit Southeastern, when four naked male students were seen running through campus. Two days later, with the precedent set, streak shows had become rampant, with law enforcement even called in—though finding it difficult to catch the bare runners and impossible to put a stop to it. The students had made their point; they would not
accept living in the world of adherence to intuitional parental control, and the ability to enforce the strict social parameters of the past could no longer survive. The days of white gloves and conformity were over, with values transitioning to an emphasis on freedom and individuality.
In August of that year, the federal Family Educational Rights and Privacy Act (FERPA) was signed into law, giving students control of who can see their records and when, demonstrating the replacement of parents with students as the responsible adult. On campus, the student body also launched the Students Rights Bureau to navigate the changes and ensure their rights were upheld.
These events, in addition to the elevation and expansion of academics, were indeed a major milestone in the shift between Southeastern’s past and future, interestingly also coinciding with the halfway-point dividing line in its first century, but there was still more at work during this time that brought Southeastern into what it would become.
One of the most significant advancements was the rise of inclusivity. In 1955, Southeastern had become one of the first colleges in the South to integrate, and it did so with relatively little controversy. But the number of students of color in these first years remained low, with early Black attendees struggling against prejudices from some while embraced by others. Slowly, over the ensuing years, their numbers rose. Student organizations were formed to celebrate and share their cultural heritage and identity alongside the growing enrollment.
Between these years, the Southeastern community had also come to embrace a rich, diverse artistic community. Dion Warwick, The Platters, Ray Charles, and The Harlem Globetrotters were among the headliners brought to campus with much fanfare.
By the mid-’70s, Southeastern was finding its footing as a more culturally diverse institution, welcoming all who were dedicated to furthering their education and opportunities, while also transitioning into a future filled with the open exchange and merger of more varied
viewpoints and experiences.
This 50-year mark was also the point at which commuter life began to rise, with students now having more freedom to choose where to live, and the alteration of class schedules soon followed to better accommodate them. While for the faculty teaching these courses, the emphasis transitioned to credentialing and being experts in their chosen disciplines, as it had been becoming for other major universities.
An increased focus on outreach was also marked in 1974 with the addition of non-credit courses on such topics as scuba diving, practical welding, newspaper reporting, genealogy, current affairs, and the Kennedy assassination, the latter of which became so popular it drew national attention and eventually became a for-credit course and a corresponding book. And filling the airwaves beyond campus and creating another marker for hands-on student learning opportunities, KSLU radio station was also launched this same year.
By 1975, Southeastern had in many ways become starkly different than the small school founded by Linus Sims half a century earlier, taking a dramatic shift toward something that more closely resembles the university we know today. The ’70s were more than a midpoint in Southeastern’s story to date; they were a transformation. They were a time when old ways gave way to new freedoms, when diversity began to flourish, when academics and outreach reached an elevation never before known, and when students found their voice in shaping their futures.
Yet, although it was a period characterized by dramatic change, these alterations did not materialize out of nowhere. They were the culmination of 50 years of not merely growing, but evolving. Paired with the steady building of traditions and the commitment to helping students reach their best futures, the institution’s cornerstone since 1925, Southeastern had also developed the quiet courage to let go of old ways and to embrace new possibilities. The university’s journey through this pivotal moment carried the legacy of its founders into a future brimming with promise—a future that continues to unfold today.
2025 | Building on the Past for Limitless Tomorrows
Southeastern today stands at a vibrant crossroads—a place where its storied past meets an inspiring vision for the future. The journey that began in 1925 with Linus Sims, community supporters, and a handful of determined students has evolved into a dynamic institution deeply rooted in tradition and influenced by its century-old past. Yet, it’s also an entity that has become accustomed to embracing change, from WWII to integration, cultural revolutions, the rise of computers and technology, and the ever-evolving needs of both students and job markets. This determination to meet the future head on will empower Southeastern to stay on course with its original purpose of helping students grow and achieve their best futures, while also causing monumental ripple effects on our communities and our world.
Walking through Southeastern’s campus today, you can feel the legacy of the past deeply intertwined with the everlasting energy of what is still to come. There are several major additions currently in the works for not only today’s students, but future generations.
One of these developments is the renovation of D Vickers Hall and the Robin Roberts Broadcast Media Center, set to open this fall. This state-of-the-art facility, made possible because of a generous donation from and named for one of Southeastern’s most celebrated alumni, Robin Roberts, will be a game-changer for students entering the world of media and communication. With cutting-edge studios for news, film, and multimedia production, this addition to D Vickers Hall will give students hands-on experience with tools and technology used by industry leaders. It’s more than a building; it’s a bold declaration that Southeastern is preparing its students for a future where creativity and innovation are paramount.
On the other side of campus, Southeastern is enhancing its athletic training and athletics facilities to benefit both those in the athletic training program and student-athletes. The renovation of the 25,000-square-foot Dugas Center, combined with a new 20,076-square-foot facility, will create a comprehensive hub for athletic training education. These state-of-the-art facilities will not only provide future athletic trainers with hands-on learning opportunities but also offer unparalleled training support for Southeastern athletes’ wellbeing. Building on a tradition of excellence in both academics and athletics, this project looks firmly to the future, equipping students with the tools to thrive and ensuring Southeastern remains a leader in preparing the next generation of professionals and champions.
Further afield, the university is also investing in the future of healthcare education with the renovation of its Baton Rouge School of Nursing. This project will transform the facility into a modern space designed to meet the demands of the foreseeable healthcare landscape. Featuring upgraded classrooms, cutting-edge labs, and simulation spaces, the center will provide nursing students in the Baton Rouge region with an immersive, modern learning environment. But just as importantly, it will also allow future healthcare professionals from across South Louisiana to complete their coursework in a location that’s more convenient for them—Hammond or Baton Rouge—while also expanding capacity, allowing for the acceptance of significantly more nursing students each year to help combat regional nursing shortages. Southeastern will be able to produce more graduates ready to lead in the ever-evolving field of healthcare, strengthening the university’s legacy of excellence in nursing education.
These current physical changes are the most visible signs of what may lie next for Southeastern, but there is still far more than that going on to help build onto the legacy for future generations. One of these initiatives is perhaps the most ambitious fundraising effort since the school’s establishment—the “Get There Together” campaign. With a goal of $100 million, this initiative underscores the university’s unwavering commitment to its students and the community.
At the heart of the campaign is a vision to inspire lifechanging opportunities, invest in faculty excellence, ensure higher education remains accessible, and build a workforce ready to meet the demands of an ever-changing world. Within these four pillars are nine initiatives, three of which revolve around the previously mentioned facility developments. The remaining six are ongoing objectives based on strengthening scholarships, academic excellence in colleges and departments, student success through support of faculty, flexible support through the Area of Greatest Need, the vibrant campus community, and the ability to help students in need through the Student Emergency Fund.
A testament to the unwavering passion and dedication of Southeastern’s alumni, supporters, and community members—and a testament to how coming together for a common purpose makes us unstoppable—the campaign had already reached its ambitious goal by April 2025.
The Centennial celebrations, which kicked off in October 2024, have already proven to be a joyous and reflective time, filled with events that honor the university’s rich history while looking ahead to its bright future. And the best is still in store for later this year.
As Southeastern nears the anniversary of the day its doors first opened in 1925, one thing is evident: the university’s future is as bright as ever. There’s a sense of possibility in every corner of campus, a belief that the next generation of students will achieve even greater heights, armed with the tools, knowledge, and experiences that Southeastern provides. Just as it always has, the strength of the university lies not just in its buildings or programs but in the people who call it home—students striving for success, faculty dedicated to inspiring minds, staff carrying the university forward, supporters providing much-needed resources, and alumni whose achievements shine as a beacon of what’s possible.
One hundred years ago, Southeastern began as a small college with a big dream. Today, it’s a thriving university preparing to embark on its second century, determined to keep dreaming big. With the momentum of the past and the promise of the future, Southeastern is ready to show the world that great things still lie ahead.