THE DIAMONDBACK

Between 1953 and 1972, university students’ ideas on what was good, bad and ugly continuously changed. One thing remained constant: their love for the annual “Ugliest Man on Campus” competition.

Though the week-long campus event evolved throughout the years, the name was always deceiving. Men were never judged on their looks or lack thereof – rather, they were elected by their peers based on popularity or a gruesome costume.

During the beatnik-era of the 1960s, contestants decked themselves out in caked facepaint and Frankenstein-like touch-ups while concentrating their efforts on looking as “ugly” as possible. A “Beauty and the Beast” dance became the standard for the competition’s kick-off event.

“It was just a popularity contest,” said Donald “Glip” Goldstein, 74, who won the first contest in 1953. “The idea was to get the votes.”

The Alpha Phi Omega fraternity sponsored the contest as a way to raise money for various xxxxxxx

national charities during the Campus Chest drive – an annual fundraising event. Entrants in the contest were sponsored by a campus organization, and students could vote – one vote cost one penny – as many times as they wanted.

In 1965, wigs, wounds and werewolf fangs upped the ugly for some contestants, while others resorted to driving beat up cars around town to spoil their image. One student panted eyeballs on his face, a lá Captain Jack Sparrow in Pirates of the Caribbean 2.

The costumes brought serious campus hype.

“The biggest charity drive in the university’s history, supported by over 20,000 students, was completed last weekend with the close of the Campus Chest Week,” began a 1966 article in The Diamondback. “Alpha Phi Omega spokesman Hank Wolpert said that collections were double those of last year, and believed that it was the largest sum of money ever collected in any college drive. Almost every fraternity, sorority and dormitory participated in the Ugly Man on Campus and Miss Campus Chest Queen contests and the Beauty and the Beast dance.”

In 1970, the idea of prominent campus figures running for the “Ugly Man” trophy took a twist when then-head basketball coach Lefty Driesell teamed up with Gamma Sigma Sigma as their “Ugly Man” candidate. That year, the participating organizations set up “giant roadblocks” in order to promote the fundraising event, according to an article in The Diamondback.

The contest eventually came to an end in 1972 when participants forgot the original purpose for the event – to fund charities. The intensely competitive atmosphere and lack of concern for fundraising finally ended the almost 20-year campus tradition.

At its inception, the “Ugly Man” contest had centered around quaint campus queens and gentlemanly ugly-men. Goldstein had beat out 44 other candidates vying for the UMOC title to secure his lavish prize: an all-expense paid date with two campus queens.

“Yeah I knew them,” Goldstein said of Sophomore Prom Queen Nancy Mularkey and Junior Prom Queen and Miss Maryland Frances Beury. “Both of them were beautiful girls, you know, queens. I wasn’t a big dater, but being a BMOC [Big Man On Campus], you knew those people.”

The date, paid for by Alpha Phi Omega, consisted of a swanky dinner and a night out at a fancy nightclub.

“Oh yeah, [APO] paid for everything – a 20 oz. steak, a chauffeur,” Goldstein said. “We were in a 1924 Hupmobile – kind of like a convertible – and we drove around town with my name on the side. It was one of the highlights of my career, even though it wasn’t supposed to be I guess.”

After graduating from the university in 1954, Goldstein served in the Air Force for 22 years before retiring as a colonel. He is now a distinguished professor of international relations and history at the University of Pittsburgh, is married with four children, and has published 21 books.

Although the contest was more colorful in the waning years of its life, organizers were nostalgic for its once philanthropic and conservative focus.

“According to contest sponsors, the gruesome face competition of previous years was eliminated when the trouble involved in staging it outweighed the contributions it received,” read a 1972 article in The Diamondback.

“What I want is the attitude of winning eliminated when a charity is concerned,” a junior chairman of the contest said in the article.

Contact reporter Kevin Rector at rectordbk@gmail.com.