Ruby E. Dare

RUBY E. DARE AND THE ESTABLISHMENT OF THE LIBRARY

Stephanie Kamp and Nick Christ present on Ruby E. Dare's life and the establishment of the library. 

A PLACE TO LIVE WITH BOOKS: RUBY E. DARE AND THE GREENVILLE COLLEGE LIBRARY

By Nick Christ and Kollin E. Fields, Ph.D.

The subject of History consumes most of our days, Kollin as an instructor and Nick as a student and soon-to-be teacher. What can—but hopefully does not—get lost in discussions of the past is its relevance for us today. The historian C. Vann Woodward once reminded his readers that history is for the quick, and not the dead. Or as William Faulkner’s protagonist puts it in Absalom, Absalom!, “The past isn’t dead. It’s not even past.” All of us alive right now are the inheritors of a tradition, centuries and millennia of people, places, and things. So, it’s important to know what came before us so that we recognize our place in the grand narrative, and in doing so we’re empowered to shape a better present and future. Jeffrey Bilbro writes in The Liberating Arts that “without that slow, patient engagement with the democracy of the dead, we’ll be unable to imagine our proper end or steer a steady course, because our ship will be pushed around by the winds of today’s fads.” So as our team began this project a few years ago—studying women in leadership throughout Greenville’s past—we didn’t know at the time where our research would take us, or what our conclusions would be, but we knew it would be vital in anchoring the institution’s identity. Thus, we set out in a fitting place: the GU library.

As visitors to campus walk around, they may or may not notice that our university library is named after Ruby E. Dare (1904-1968). Studying Dare’s life and times, as our team did, is one of those anchors that Bilbro mentions, tying us to people and places that came before us. Dare’s exceptional life and contribution to the building that is now her namesake helps us appreciate not only what she did, but what she inspires us to do now. Upon her death in 1968, Dare left not only a new library, but a legacy of devotion to Greenville College. So, it is her story we want to tell, but as good historians, we must go back before we can move forward. The story begins in 1856, just a few years before one of the most cataclysmic events in American history.

Almira College, the predecessor to Greenville College and now Greenville University, was begun in the 1850s as one of the pioneers of women’s higher education. As Lucas Nowlan and Sharon Grimes report in their story, our institution has always had close ties to women in leadership, as the original college was made possible through a grant from Almira Morse, the college’s namesake. While Nowlan and Grimes tell that story, we wanted to briefly digress to explain the various iterations of the college library up to the point that Ruby Dare assumed directorship in 1930. According to records, the Almira library began with a fund of $70 and was housed in the Morse home, now a historical marker in downtown Greenville. The Ladies Library Association helped fundraise for the library by selling items such as sunbonnets and nightcaps, and a certain literary society at the time, The Calliopean, also contributed to the cause. Within a few decades, the library at Almira College housed a few thousand volumes and was able to add a few hundred more each year. Debra Ann Ambuehl, who wrote a brief history of the college library in 1976, reports that, “When President Hogue visited the college for the first time in 1892, he found the library in a room on the second floor of Hogue Hall.” This of course was the same year that Almira College sold its buildings and property to what became Greenville College. Between the 1890s and Dare’s arrival at GC in 1929, the library waxed and waned, and seemed never to have moved much beyond the initial state of organized chaos that Hogue discovered in 1892. To be sure, several people made significant strides in shoring up the library, but as we will see later in this essay, part of Dare’s project was to improve the library after the college was docked by an accrediting agency, thus implying a major need for improvement.

In the early 1900s, the library’s needs seemed to focus on growing and organizing its holdings. To aid such efforts, Wilson Hogue began raising funds for the library, and John Ladue even donated his set of Edward Gibbon’s The History of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire. Ambuehl also reports that E.G. Burritt (later President) even served as the librarian for a time. Popularizing the library and literary studies at the time was the Wilsonian Library Society (named in honor of Wilson Hogue), which published a journal that was the precursor to the Papyrus. Throughout the early 1900s, it’s clear the library lacked a certain sense of direction, being managed as it was by students and at times, various faculty members. And of course, we can’t judge too harshly when we consider the magnitude of world historical events between 1892 and 1930, which included everything from global wars to a presidential assassination. The Gilded Age and Progressive Era were turbulent times, but amidst it all the library managed to grow in size and in its holdings, containing 6,000 volumes by 1916. We can’t say for certain what the “Roaring ‘20s” looked like around Greenville’s campus, but the decade is notable for what (and who) came along in 1929. This was when Ruby E. Dare, a twenty-five-year-old graduate of Taylor University and the University of Michigan arrived. Dare came to GC as a Professor of Classical Languages, but shortly thereafter was tasked by President H.J. Long to “assist” the library. The Roaring ‘20s were over, and the Depression was creeping in, but Dare’s work had just begun.

We find a striking contrast in the late 1930s and early ‘40s between Dare’s focused commitment to a new library amidst unprecedented global events. The Great War was supposed to have been a “war to end all wars,” and yet the 1920s ushered in an era of global depression and political chaos. It is staggering to imagine our Greenville College community navigating the heady waters of world crisis during this time, but it is also instructive to see how they, and specifically Ruby Dare in this case, were faithful to their callings. So even in the late 1930s, as Hitler’s Germany was amassing an empire and the world was on the brink of another war, Dare was able to remain focused on the task at hand of planning for a new library. There is a sort of beautiful irony to the fact that Dare helped create a new building that would house thousands of books: tools of the mind to combat authoritarianism. The new library became Dare’s passion and she was meticulous in its planning and details, addressing everything from color patterns and square footage to a coat room and wastebaskets. As her former assistant Jane Sanders (‘50) told us in an interview, Dare was a “master at planning.” And, of course, we should not lose sight of the fact that for Dare this was not just a building, but a mission field. Later in her life, as documented by Stephanie Kamp and myself (Kollin) in our essay “Ruby E. Dare: A Librarian’s Commitment to Character and Service,” Dare would spend time abroad in places such as India. Sanders said that Dare’s “enjoyment was serving people.” She was “all business. All serving the Lord.” So, in planning for the new library, this was simply another way to serve people, to curate lives for the Lord. The details—the location of the circulation desk, lighting, stacks, layout, etc.—were always in pursuit of creating a welcoming atmosphere to serve people.

In terms of her knack for details, we consider a few specifics. While planning out the fuel source for the library, for example, Dare considered using coal from a nearby mine. Her plan was “to have coal delivered from the mines by truck and thus to make the coal cheap,” but she later ruled this out because she thought that the coal dust could be problematic. She also feared that a furnace would take up too much space and be a fire hazard. But so specific was her vision that she even planned out which color hues of paint would be used for each wall of the library. Dare explained, “Twelve of the milder modern colors are used on the walls in such combinations as woodland rose and medium green, light and dark green, blue and grey, chartreuse and Bataan brown, lily yellow and medium brown, terra cotta and light green.” Her planning was done with the intent of creating an innovative and welcoming place for students. When describing her vision for the library Dare said, “The building should be so arranged, finished, and furnished that it will create an appropriate atmosphere which will afford a quiet welcome and give a comfortable, restful place for reading and study.” Her goal for the library was to “furnish a comfortable place for students to live with books.”

Planning was done in the early 1940s, and the estimated cost for the building was $125,000. Originally, Dare speculated that the library would come to fruition by 1948, but WWII and budget setbacks delayed this by a few years. Ironically, the new library would be more needed than ever after the war, when the GI Bill encouraged tens of thousands of returning servicemen to enter higher education. Former professor and Vice President of Academic Affairs, Brian Hartley, said that the influx of students after the war was so great that the college had to provide temporary housing for new students. The timing was exceptional, then, since Dare and the college administration had already put plans in place for the new library. When conceived in the early 1940s, Dare asks and answers the question, “Who Is Sponsoring the Library?” Its benefactors, she writes, are “those who believe that our Christian young people deserve the very best that can be provided for them,” and “Loyal Free Methodists who want to provide the highest quality of Christian Education for Free Methodist Youth who will attend Greenville College in the future.” Though funds were low during the war, we see in the archival records various mailouts for donations, and throughout the late 1940s the college was able to raise enough money to begin construction. In GC’s Record from December 1948, Dare paints a picture of the soon-to-be library. “It is a low rectangular structure, simple in appearance, modified colonial in design. Everything about its lines suggests the grace achieved by simplicity, which is a part of the basic philosophy of Greenville College.” We’re especially struck by her phrase, “grace achieved by simplicity,” as this is one of those anchors from the past that grounds us in the present. Dare’s vision did in fact begin in 1948, and whether she knew it or not, the building would be erected fairly quickly, all things considered.

Also in the Record from a year later are details of the architect and intended style of the building. The architect was C. C. Briggs, who seemingly emphasized functionality in his buildings. This is in keeping with Dare’s emphasis on a “student-centered” library, one which synthesizes modern form with complete function. According to the Record, “He [Briggs] is opposed to frills of any kind,” and “...one discovers a thrilling fundamental beauty in Mr. Briggs’ buildings.” Dare writes of his plans, “These two unique features, flexible modular planning and mixing books and readers throughout the building, represent the newest philosophy of college library building.” We’re struck in reading though Dare’s plans her forward-thinking approach to the new building: not only would it house more books and students, but it anticipated the future growth of the college. Dare uses the word “philosophy” quite a bit in her planning and notes, and it is instructive to see how her philosophy was borne out in the eventual physical space. It reminds us that planning and vision are vital to execution, and that Dare’s time spent waiting fostered a sense of patience and faith in God’s timing. Construction on the new library lasted about two years and the building was officially dedicated on November 4, 1950.

It was given the name “Memorial Library,” and was a significant upgrade from the original space in Hogue Hall. It consisted of two floors: the ground floor and basement. The ground floor housed books, periodicals, an office, multiple study areas, and a coat room. Student assistant to Dare and later head librarian, Jane Hopkins (‘68), gave our team a tour through the library as it stands today, and helped us envision what it looked like in 1950. In the Memorial Library of 1950, the main entrance from the outside was arrived at through steps to the left of today’s entrance. Currently, there is a brick wall in the staff office adjacent to the double doors from inside the building, and Hopkins noted that at the time, this was the conduit through which guests entered the building from the outside; what students would have seen as they walked into the building is the circulation desk, which stood essentially where the water fountain and restrooms are today. The basement floor in the new library housed books and places for students to read and study, and there was also a receiving room, restrooms, staff and faculty rooms, classrooms, a typing room, music room, kitchenette, and a heating unit. Overall, the library could hold a total of 60,000 volumes and was capable of seating up to 200 students.

The new library was much more flexible than the former library. It was part of the “modern philosophy” that Dare envisioned. In former days, students could requisition books from the library staff, but in the Memorial Library they had access to the open stacks, and could check out books, with the only stipulation that they be returned by the due date. Being “all business” as Jane Sanders told us about Dare, there are notes in the records having to do with Dare’s disappointment in some irresponsible students, as noted below. If students wanted to read, study, or work on homework in the new library, there were many places for them to do so. Dare intentionally put tables all around the library, including close to the stacks. At the time, this arrangement was uncommon, but Dare appreciated the flexible seating because it gave students options and made the library more lively. As Dare titled a later essay, there were “no barriers to books in Greenville College.” A year after the library opened, Dare wrote, “When the planning was in progress some questioned the wisdom of a building with so little supervision and so much freedom of movement and access. We have believed, with Epictetus, that ‘No man is free who is not master of himself.’” Dare truly thought that Greenville College was unique, and that its students were uniquely capable of her trust.

But while the flexibility of the new layout worked well, eventually students began to abuse their new freedoms. Throughout the early 1950s, the library had many problems with overdue books and with some students not returning books at all. Dare was, at times, appalled at the way students took advantage of the freedoms that were granted to them. This resulted in Dare instituting a strict policy on overdue books. Students would be charged 25 cents for an overdue book, 10 cents every subsequent hour, and 2 cents per day after that. In 1956, Dare wrote a memorandum about the “selfish” nature of not returning books, even comparing it to theft. She wrote (notably in all caps), “THIS IS THE FIRST TIME IN OVER TWENTY-FIVE YEARS STUDENTS HAVE TO ANY CONSIDERABLE EXTENT FAILED IN THE CONFIDENCE THE COLLEGE HAS PLACED IN THEM. IT IS THE FIRST TIME THIS TYPE OF PROBLEM HAS BEEN DISCUSSED PUBLICLY.” While the tone of the message is humorous to us now, we should appreciate the way that Dare strove to be a good steward of the library’s finite resources.

Despite these issues, Dare and the students appreciated the new layout and rules of the library. The library was unique and innovative for the time, which led to public interest beyond Greenville. Throughout the ‘50s, Dare was interviewed by various newspapers, magazines, and journals where she described the library, the ideas guiding its development, and how it functioned at the time. It appears that our library here at this humble college gained some national interest, which speaks to Dare’s novel approach for the time.

Dare was head librarian for another two decades, and passed away in 1968. During the 1950s and ‘60s, she continued to innovate and make every possible improvement. Jane and Everett Sanders (‘50) informed us that Dare was always amenable to new technologies and input from faculty and staff. Eventually, the library began using a hardwired electronic system to maintain circulations, and integrated new forms of media and learning opportunities. As noted in our other essay on Dare as part of this project, Dare also constantly sought to include students, making use of the Student Library Committee formed decades prior. Many of her former student workers would go on to become GC librarians in future decades. After Dare passed away in 1968, Greenville College renamed the Memorial Library the “Ruby E. Dare Library” in honor of her hard work and dedication.

Dare’s vision of a welcoming and comforting environment where students can “live with books” is still alive. The current library utilizes what Dare and others built, with some minor expansions and the addition of the tower in the 1990s (currently the HUB, a tutoring hall, and administrative offices). The library continues to grant students freedom with its policies. Students are still allowed to borrow books and use them wherever they see fit, and the “Course Reserve” option allows students to use required textbooks as they study in the library. We also offer an interlibrary loan feature with other colleges and universities, and of course, the library now hosts thousands of materials online, in keeping with modern library science and approaches. 

Our research on the Greenville library and the life and legacy of Ruby Dare has helped us discover our place in the college's (and now university’s) historical narrative. As students, faculty, staff, and alumni, it’s easy to take what we have for granted, but the unique story behind how it came to be should give us a sense of appreciation. Our realities are the products of visionaries who came before us. We’re fortunate at Greenville University to have a library that is a “comfortable place for students to live with books,” as Dare wrote so many years ago. Dare’s service to our community is inspirational and when she passed away, she left behind a beautiful legacy worth telling. We as an institution have also benefited from the scores of students, staff, and faculty involved with the library over the last hundred years and more, and though receiving less recognition, their contributions are no less significant. Librarians such as Cornelia May, Judy Cox, Jane Hopkins, Georgann Kurtz-Shaw, Gale Heidemann, and others all worked tirelessly to continue to build on Dare’s legacy. And we appreciate the work Michelle Thole is currently doing as she, too, seeks to continue building a “modern library” in the spirit of Dare. We asked Jane Sanders what Dare’s legacy is, and it’s telling about the kind of person Dare was that even beyond the library she helped build, Sanders answered, “Dare’s influence on the students and their personal lives.” It is our hope that Dare’s story of service and devotion to students inspires us now and in the future.

Sources:
Ruby E. Dare Papers, Box M-336-338, Greenville University Archives, Greenville, IL.
The Debra Ann Ambuehl Papers, Box 26a, Greenville University Archives, Greenville, IL.
Kollin Fields, Nick Christ, and Stephanie Kamp, interview with Jane and Everett Sanders, Sep.
23, 2024, notes in possession of the authors.
Kollin Fields and Nick Christ, interview with Jane Hopkins, October 1, 2024, notes in possession
of the authors.

RUBY E. DARE: A LIBRARIAN’S COMMITMENT TO CHARACTER AND SERVICE

BY STEPHANIE KAMP AND KOLLIN E. FIELDS, PH.D.

Greenville College was founded in 1892 on the principles of character and service, displayed in lives centered on faith. This mission is foundational to the transformative education that GC (and now GU) instills in its students. What makes Greenville exceptional is the vast amount of faculty, staff, and students who have demonstrated these characteristics as they graced the halls of the university. There have been hosts of these “saints,” one of them being the namesake of the university library, Ruby E. Dare (1904-1968). Dare had a profound effect on the college, taking the small, unremarkable library then located in Hogue Hall, and transforming it into one of the most impressive college libraries of the time. Many of us today know the name of the library, but far too few know the story of the incredible woman who made it possible. Her legacy is one of incredible Christian devotion and service. Sharing stories is what keeps legacies alive, and Ruby E. Dare’s is one worth telling. 

Dare was born in December 1904 to parents Albert and Mary Dare. She and her two older sisters, Neva and Irma, were all born in Illinois but lived there only a short time before moving west to New Mexico as a family. There is little information on her early life in the West, but in a former interview conducted by the Greenville Papyrus, Dare recollects, “Those were the days when one lived in a shack until a barn could be built and then occupied the barn until a house could be erected,” and she added, “Doors were ‘dehinged’ in those times to make table tops.” Dare’s family lived a pioneer lifestyle, with Ruby being only in second grade when New Mexico gained its statehood. In the same interview, Dare reminisced on the event, describing how “a special train came to her tiny town to provide a holiday atmosphere, and her class prepared special songs as its contribution to the celebration.” The Dare family ventured further west in the following years, before leaving for Missouri where she finished high school. She started her first young-adult adventure when she left for Indiana to study at Taylor University, which is an independent Holiness school that originated as a women's college, similar to the college at which Dare would soon be hired. Dare also earned a master’s degree in Classical Literature from the University of Michigan, and would later earn multiple degrees in library science, making her the first formally educated librarian at the college. She was incredibly dedicated to her studies, with a passion for learning she maintained throughout her life. 

Dare was born in December 1904 to parents Albert and Mary Dare. She and her two older sisters, Neva and Irma, were all born in Illinois but lived there only a short time before moving west to New Mexico as a family. There is little information on her early life in the West, but in a former interview conducted by the Greenville Papyrus, Dare recollects, “Those were the days when one lived in a shack until a barn could be built and then occupied the barn until a house could be erected,” and she added, “Doors were ‘dehinged’ in those times to make table tops.” Dare’s family lived a pioneer lifestyle, with Ruby being only in second grade when New Mexico gained its statehood. In the same interview, Dare reminisced on the event, describing how “a special train came to her tiny town to provide a holiday atmosphere, and her class prepared special songs as its contribution to the celebration.” The Dare family ventured further west in the following years, before leaving for Missouri where she finished high school. She started her first young-adult adventure when she left for Indiana to study at Taylor University, which is an independent Holiness school that originated as a women's college, similar to the college at which Dare would soon be hired. Dare also earned a master’s degree in Classical Literature from the University of Michigan, and would later earn multiple degrees in library science, making her the first formally educated librarian at the college. She was incredibly dedicated to her studies, with a passion for learning she maintained throughout her life. 

In 1929 this passion for academia would bring Dare to Greenville College as a Professor of Classical Languages, an impressive feat especially for women navigating the male-dominated spaces of higher education at the time. In her first year at GC Dare taught Latin and Greek, and we assume that her deep appreciation of the classics and humanities fostered a passion for the role that books play in one’s education; this would of course serve her well as the soon-to-be librarian. Jane Hopkins (‘68), Dare’s former student assistant and later head librarian in her own right, relayed to our team through interviews that “God made her [Dare] a Greek and Latin Professor, and President Long made her a librarian.” Former professor and Vice President of Academic Affairs, Brian Hartley, has regaled our campus with stories of Long’s ability to persuade faculty and staff to take on unanticipated roles within the college, and though we can’t say what Dare’s life would have been like had she remained a professor of classics, we can assuredly say that the college’s future was all the better for Dare becoming its librarian. 

And so, in 1930, with the United States and the world at large in the early moments of the Great Depression, Dare quietly took on the role of assistant librarian. Seemingly within the next year, she was promoted to head librarian, and would remain so for the next four decades until her passing in 1968. What Dare bequeathed to the college in 1968 was a far cry from those early days. The first library on these grounds was housed in the Morse home when the college was then Almira College, a place of higher education exclusively for women. In the 1890s, after being purchased by what became Greenville College, books were located in a room on the second floor of Hogue Hall. Records indicate that former president Eldon Burritt even served as librarian for a time. Before Dare’s assumption as the librarian, a previous history of the library informs us that it consisted of “three rooms filled with stacks and presided over by a student of mature years, and, presumably, skilled in handling persons of non-studious or mischievous disposition.” By all accounts, Dare would continue this tradition of “handling persons” of mischievous dispositions, as she pursued her work with passion and a sense of calling, recognizing the profound effect that genuine learning has on one’s life. As her former student worker and later GC professor, Jane Sanders (‘50) informed us Dare was “all business.” “She was very kind,” Sanders said, “but very exact . . . no monkey business.” Such was the approach with which Dare assumed control of the scattered stacks of GC’s library in 1930.

In learning about Dare’s life and contributions to the college, we’re reminded of the notion of stewardship in the Bible. In Jesus’s various parables, there are good stewards, and bad, faithful, and unfaithful. Some are given little and some much, but all are expected to steward what they’ve been given. In Matthew 25, Jesus tells a parable of the talents, and when the master returns to see how one of his servants has stewarded his deposit, the master says, “Well done, good and faithful servant. You have been faithful over a little; I will set you over much.” Dare was entrusted with the little that Greenville College had at the time, and thus was set over much. World events in the 1930s were obviously turbulent, amidst both a global depression and the rise of authoritarian regimes in Europe. And yet, Dare was “all business” as she set about both organizing the library and envisioning the construction of a new library, eventually completed in 1950, and later renamed in her honor. It is evident to us not that Dare was unaffected by local and global concerns, but that she faithfully devoted herself to the task at hand. Jane Hopkins recalls that Dare worked long hours, deep into the night, and that student workers would at times see Dare asleep at her desk chair from exhaustion. And when we asked Jane Sanders what Dare did for pleasure, she said that “Her enjoyment was serving people.” Dare was, evidently, deeply committed to her work but also to the spiritual lives of students, as emphasized by Sanders. 

And just what was the task at hand when Dare began directing the library? Ever the studious worker, Dare was faced with multiple challenges: a disorganized library housed in Hogue Hall, the need for more books and resources to support the college’s growing student population, keeping up with trends in library science, and, most obviously, the need for a new library. Though Dare began envisioning the new library in the 1930s and ‘40s, budget cuts and the war would delay its progress. And yet she remained faithful, assured that God would provide. Sanders reports that Dare was a “master at planning,” and that those among her staff all had a job and knew exactly what to do. In 1939, Dare published an essay in The Library Journal in which she spoke to the philosophy and ideals behind a modern library. It “must become a coordinating factor in the whole educational regime and the center of the reading program. It must give the student opportunity for exploration under guidance and stimulate initiative in reading. It must furnish a comfortable place for students to live with books,” Dare wrote. We’re struck by the beautiful juxtaposition in Dare’s sentiment: a conservative belief in the power of books and environment, coupled with a progressive vision of what the “modern” library should be. 

Dare notes in the essay that the typical approach to libraries at the time was to almost exclusively defer to faculty in terms of book recommendations and resource needs, but that a “student-centered library” such as that envisioned at GC should also accommodate and value the input of students. Here again we’re reminded of Dare’s emphasis on students, both their intellectual and spiritual needs. We suggest that Dare’s idea of the library would ideally foster both “a place to live with books,” and a place to recognize the intellectual and spiritual needs inherent within all of us. With students in mind, Dare created in 1938 a student library committee, who met regularly, maintained extensive notes, met with the librarian, planned events, and, as Dare put it, “develop[ed] within the members an increased appreciation of good literature.” Though the new library was years away, Dare continued to effectively steward the resources at her disposal, and she and the student committee oversaw several initiatives in the 1940s and ‘50s such as a “Week-End Shelf” containing recommended reading, and “Book Ahead Day” where for one Saturday, “all library traditions were broken,” including “traditional decorum.” On this day, Dare and her staff provided coffee and donuts, as well as “Hi-Fi music floating in the breeze” for students to enjoy. Lest one gets the impression that everything about these events were idyllic, Dare and her students also record in our documents their misgivings about the various library-related issues. One student wished that the library committee was “more representative of the student body than it is.” Our readers will be amused by the student’s next complaint: “Hardly anyone realizes that we exist.” Yet Dare and her students persevered, innovating and evolving as they went. As Dare wrote in 1939, “The imperfections of the present age are our challenges for the future.” Indeed. 

Our team has published alongside this essay another on the topic of Dare and, specifically, the construction of the new library dedicated in 1950, so lest we stray too far from the issue of Dare’s personal life and commitment to the college, suffice it to say that one of her crowning achievements was the planning of a new library, a task that began seemingly as soon as she became the librarian in 1930. At one point early in her tenure, the college was penalized by an accrediting agency for the sad state of the library. Our readers should keep in mind that at the time, a library was the hub of research for colleges and universities, long before the Internet and personal computing put information at our fingertips. So, it was essential that to remain in good standing, the college remedy the issue and begin thinking about how to improve. With this in mind, Dare completed, for a summer course at the University of Michigan, “A Suggested Building Program for Greenville College Library.” The paper, written in 1943, begins, “the work done in this course is intended as the background for the new building which we hope to see on our campus within a maximum of five years and for which more definite plans will be made at the close of the summer.” The war and budgetary setbacks would delay her anticipated timeline, but we see that Dare and those supporting her efforts in the early 1940s had the foresight to plan and execute the new, “modern” library that would come to fruition in 1950. Dare’s meticulous plans and notes from the time reveal a deep seriousness about how to properly steward the resources she had been given. And as Jane Sanders told us, no matter how many books Dare had or how large (or small) the budget was, Dare always wanted more. But her desire for more was always to better meet the needs of the students and the college at large. She wrote in 1943 that the ideal of the new library was to “serve as adequately as resources permit the complete needs of the individual student and let the heritage of books fill its full share in personality development.” (For the full story on the planning and construction of the new library we point readers to our other piece on Dare entitled “A Place to Live With Books: Ruby E. Dare and the Greenville College Library.”)

In 1961, Dare was called to take her skills and diligence outside of Greenville, and outside of the country. She began her sabbatical year venturing to Union Biblical Seminary in Yeotmal, India, a seminary known for being the largest evangelical seminary in India. A new building was constructed to house the seminary library, and Dare was set to take part in its organization, a task for which she was no doubt well-suited. The other portion of her work before leaving included securing, preparing, and shipping materials not available in India. These items included tool books, typewriters, paper, file cards, mending materials, paste, and many other items too numerous to mention. Dare was able to raise funds to pay for these items and had always shown skill and a great degree of faith in garnering support for her mission work. She used her six-month visa and fully dedicated herself to the betterment of the library in India, similarly to the way she transformed the library of Greenville College. She describes her time in India as full of new experiences. In a detailed letter sent home to Greenville friends, she speaks of her new reality: sitting on the floor to eat curry and rice with her fingers, sleeping on the floor of a third-class train, learning to put on a sari, using buffalo milk and eating goat meat, the spectacle she attracted as a foreigner, trying to master buying things with rupees, using sign language, sleeping under a net, and fearing cobras, rats, cows, crows, and lizards. To be effective, Dare overcame cultural differences for the sake of the betterment of the Seminary. On the more positive end, she describes the students of the seminary. She explains the necessity of character and devotion that it takes to be a Christian in an “absolutely unchristian culture,” describing their devotion to faith that endangered them in a country inhospitable to Christianity. For Dare, this was a life-changing experience. She writes at one point, “I have always wished I could make some special contribution to the spreading of the Good News in other lands, this pleases me very much.” Her dedication to faith and her craft as a librarian, missionary, and scholar is something to be admired and learned from. 

Upon her return, Dare expressed her desire to go back to India, this time for five years rather than one. But her appeal for a work visa was rejected this time, bringing this component of her missionary work to an unexpected end. But through it all, Dare kept her positivity and focus, writing, “I believe the Lord will use the granting or withholding of the visa to put me for my last years of service where He wants me—in India or Greenville I shall be content.” While she was barred from pursuing her dreams of continued missionary work in India, it did not stop her dedication to living a life of service. She continued to travel and help libraries outside of the country, as well as nurturing the library that she had worked so hard to procure at Greenville College. In a letter to close friends she noted, “This year is bringing me a deeper satisfaction in my service to Greenville College than I have recently found. I firmly believe all of life’s adjustments have meaning and can be used constructively.” Her unwavering faith and acceptance of life's unforeseen changes affected not only her, but those who admired her, as well as those who will come to admire her now. Dare’s ability to pivot her focus from overseas mission work to more local service exemplifies her dedication to God’s calling, wherever it led her. Her work at Greenville College continued to flourish, and her commitment to fostering education, both locally and abroad, became a testament to her spirit of service. Dare’s life serves as an example of how fulfillment and purpose can be found in following the path laid ahead for us, even when that path is unanticipated. 

On August 8th, 1968, Dare passed away following a cerebral hemorrhage. Her funeral was conducted at the college church by Dr. Donald N. Bastian on August 10th, 1968. A faculty octet sang at the service and tributes were given by Bishop Emeritus Leslie R. Marston and college president Glenn A. Richardson. Her passing marked the end of an era at Greenville College, but her hard work helped usher in a new era, the one that helped create Greenville University as it is today. Dare wrote in 1948, “We who have been working, praying, and longing many years for our new library building can now stand on the back steps of Hogue Hall, look off to the northeast, and visualize in our minds the building we hope will take form next summer.” May we all continue to work, pray, and long for better things as Ruby Dare did before us. She was faithful with little, and so was set over much. 

Sources:

Ruby E. Dare Papers, Box M-336-338, Greenville University Archives, Greenville, IL.
The Debra Ann Ambuehl Papers, Box 26a, Greenville University Archives, Greenville, IL.
Kollin Fields, Nick Christ, and Stephanie Kamp, interview with Jane and Everett Sanders, Sep.
23, 2024, notes in possession of the authors.
Kollin Fields and Nick Christ, interview with Jane Hopkins, October 1, 2024, notes in possession
of the authors.