ter meeting without breaking the deadlock. Frustration mounted, and not only because this impasse was keeping anything else from getting done. llie committee was very publicly making everyone's worst fears about the proposed merger come true: that it would see the two institutions consumed by distrust, pitting themselves against the other. As was said at the time, each school feared that it would “forcibly be recast in the image of the other.""" Finally, on January 13, at the end of a five—hour meeting that stretched beyond midnight, the supporters ofjewett, though in the majority, surrendered the field. The University Planning Committee voted by a ()—I margin to invite Ronald Baker to be the new university's first president. Earlier that evening, Chair Edward Sheffield suggested it would be best if the new university's opening was postponed until the fall of197o. Premier Campbell had just presented the committee with a long list of things still to be done, including select a site and draft a charter, and set up curriculum, departments, faculties, and adminis— tration — and, before all that, choose a president. Surprisingly, most on the committee took exception to the idea. As Prince ofWales’ student representative Dulcinea Andrews said, “We have failed mis—

n, ,0

erably to date and there is no need to prolong the agony. It was hardly a ringing endorsement for the new university, now just nine months away. ' ¢X<>

In the late 1980s, I took English courses at UPEI from Ronald Bak— er, never knowing he had once been its president. He carried no great aura of authority, just ot‘unflappable good humour. He needed this as president. On being introduced to one of his new faculty in the spring of 1969, Baker was informed that everyone knew he was the government’s hatchet man, come to close down the university

for good. The fact that he had rented a house rather than buying

it) See 71W(IV/(ill'z/lirl/I.Vlkllluzll'yI}, who. :0 ‘/’/H7"11[/—l)/’1/l£'t'7', january 14. mm).

24 — U'l‘Ol’lAN I'