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            Web Exclusives: 
              Under the Ivy 
              a column by Jane Martin paw@princeton.edu 
             
            March 22, 2006: 
             Wearing 
              many hats  
              B. Franklin Bunn 1907 was a Princeton fixture 
              – on and off campus
 He “probably knew, and was known by, more members of 
              the University than any other Princetonian” in the 20th century, 
              wrote Alexander Leitch in A Princeton Companion. “His popularity 
              on the campus carried over into the community at large: In his time 
              no citizen was better known than he.” 
              His name was Benjamin 
              Franklin Bunn 1907, and his celebrity came from the many roles he 
              played on campus, from manager and treasurer of student groups from 
              Triangle to The Daily Princetonian to timer at athletic 
              contests to manager of McCarter Theatre.  
            His popularity, however, stemmed from his daytime job: 
              As manager of the University Store, called the Univee in those days, 
              it was Bunn’s pleasant duty to hand out the rebate checks to students 
              once a year. The recipients praised him in one Faculty Song: “Oh 
              Bacon Bunn, you crafty guy,/ Your finger is in every pie,/ But once 
              a year you do relent,/ And give us back our 10 percent.” (A bacon 
              bun was a favorite offering from a campus hangout, the Balt.) 
            Bunn was an untraditional Princeton student in the days 
              before there was such a description. He was born in 1875 on a farm 
              in Pennsylvania. After grammar school, he helped out on the farm, 
              occasionally teaching some classes at a local school. As a young 
              adult, he decided that he would like to become a teacher, and upon 
              the advice of the principal of his school (a Harvard man) Bunn enrolled 
              at Phillips Exeter. He was 25 years old. 
            By 1903 he was ready for college, and this time the 
              advice from his Exeter principal was to head back south to Princeton, 
              where “a coming young man” named Woodrow Wilson 1879 had just been 
              named president. To cover his expenses, he landed a part-time position 
              with the University Book Store, which at the time was run by undergraduates 
              as a for-profit business. 
            When he graduated in 1907 at age 32, the store  a one-room 
              operation in West College  had become a cooperative venture, and 
              Bunn was offered a full-time position as a clerk. He took it, expecting 
              to leave in a few years to pursue his teaching career. But just 
              a year later, founding manager Robert C. McNamara 1903 left, and 
              Bunn agreed to take his place, at the salary of $125 a month. He 
              would run the store for nearly 40 years, retiring in 1947. 
            Through the years he earned many nicknames from the 
              undergraduates he advised, including the aforementioned “Bacon Bunn,” 
              as well as “Uncle Frank,” “Bunny,” and “Mr. Princeton.”  
              He managed the Triangle Club for 50 years, from 1908 to 1958, 
              and subsequently ran McCarter Theatre. He kept the official time 
              at football and basketball games and track and swim meets (one biography 
              says that he personally restored the trophy cases in Dillon Gym 
              after they were destroyed by fire in 1944). He advised The Daily 
              Princetonian and the Tiger, and was active in the leadership 
              of his own Princeton class.  
            His energy on campus was matched by his activities in 
              town. In his 1971 obituary, the Princeton Packet recorded, 
              “From 1914, when he was appointed to the borough board of health, 
              until 1966, when he retired from the township planning board, Mr. 
              Bunn was almost continuously in public service.” He served as mayor 
              in both Princeton borough (1927-1929) and Princeton township (1940-1950), 
              the only person ever to have done so. He was a founding trustee 
              of Westminster Choir College and a trustee of the First Presbyterian 
              Church, Princeton Hospital, the YMCA, and the Community Fund. 
            Bunn was, appropriately, also the motivator behind the 
              consummate symbol of town-gown relations. In 1956, at the prompting 
              of Dean of the Faculty J. Douglas Brown ’19, Bunn proposed that 
              the town present a gift to the University in recognition of the 
              interdependence of the two. The town committee, which he led, commissioned 
              a ceremonial mace, which was presented to the University in 1956 
              upon the bicentennial of Nassau Hall. It has been carried in every 
              academic procession since. When not in use, it occupies a prominent 
              trophy case in Nassau Hall. 
            Of all the awards Bunn received in his lifetime  many 
              student organizations, including the men’s basketball team, have 
              awards named in his memory  Bunn was most proud of the honorary 
              degree Princeton bestowed upon him in 1947, the University’s bicentennial. 
              No doubt he also would have been thrilled by the tributes paid to 
              him upon his death in 1971 at the age of 96. Triangle members gave 
              a special performance, called “One Hour More for Uncle Ben”  based 
              on a wildly popular song from the 1921-1922 show  where members 
              including Josh Logan ’31 and Jimmy Stewart ’32 sang songs and shared 
              memories. 
            In a 1980 issue of the Recollector, an erstwhile 
              local Princeton history monthly, one alumnus wrote this of Bunn: 
              “Mr. Bunn tried to play the role of tough businessman when confronted 
              by students, but he loved us all and had a heart of gold. … No one 
              on campus, I suspect, was more deeply respected and more affectionately 
              loved. I last saw Uncle Ben in the early ’70s. He no longer recognized 
              anyone. I believe he died soon after. But I would be deeply grieved 
              if I thought memory of him died then also.”   
             
            Special thanks to Jeanette Cafaro of the Princeton Historical 
              Society for her help. 
            Jane Martin 89 is PAW's former editor-in-chief. 
              You can reach her at paw@princeton.edu 
                
             
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