[News releases]

If you’d asked someone in 1939 what mattered most, they probably would’ve mentioned the turmoil sweeping across Europe—Germany’s invasion of Poland, the beginning of what would become World War II, the Manhattan Project quietly launching in the background. Yet even during these seismic historical moments, institutions were still trying to document themselves, to say “here’s who we are and what we’re doing.” That’s what makes this collection of news releases from the Illinois Institute of Technology’s Department of Public Relations so quietly valuable. Published that same year, this 97-page document captures something we often overlook: how universities were communicating their mission and identity in one of the most turbulent periods of modern history.

The Illinois Institute of Technology was establishing itself as an institution worth paying attention to, and this collection is essentially their voice during that moment. Rather than being polished for academic journals or high-minded publications, these were news releases—the raw material sent to newspapers, the everyday language meant to reach the general public. That directness is actually what makes this document interesting to read now, nearly a century later. There’s no pretense here. The Department of Public Relations was doing practical work: announcing achievements, explaining programs, introducing faculty members, telling the story of what their institution meant to American engineering and education.

What strikes you about studying these releases is how they reveal the anxieties and ambitions of a major technical school in 1939:

• How IIT positioned itself within the broader American educational landscape
• The emphasis on practical engineering and applied science (reflecting what employers and society demanded)
• The careful balance between tradition and innovation that characterized mid-century technical education
• The ways the institution tried to build credibility and public trust
• How they managed their public image during uncertain economic and political times

The actual content shows an institution deeply invested in proving its relevance. These weren’t just administrative announcements—they were strategic communications designed to establish IIT as a serious player in American higher education. The releases likely covered faculty research, student achievements, new programs, partnerships with industry, and the kinds of practical innovations that appealed to post-Depression America. People needed jobs, and institutions needed to demonstrate they could prepare students for the real world.

This document matters because it’s primary source material. When historians and researchers want to understand how universities actually presented themselves in 1939, when they want to know what IIT thought was worth broadcasting to newspapers and the public, they come to something like this. It’s not filtered through someone else’s interpretation or memory. These are the actual words the institution chose. That makes it invaluable for anyone studying the history of American higher education, public relations in that era, or institutional communication more broadly.

The 97 pages might seem modest, but density matters more than length with material like this. News releases are efficient documents—they say what needs saying and move on. The pages would have been filled with specific announcements, quotes from administrators, details about programs and people. That economy of language actually makes the collection more useful than a thousand pages of meandering prose. You get the essential story of what IIT was doing and how they wanted the world to see it.

There’s also something historically poignant about reading institutional communications from 1939. The world was changing rapidly around them—FDR had just become the first sitting president to appear on television at the New York World’s Fair in April of that year. Technology was accelerating. War loomed. Yet here was an engineering school doing what it had always done: training minds, building programs, documenting progress. These releases are like a small, calm voice continuing practical work while larger forces moved through the world.

The creative achievement here isn’t in fancy prose or experimental storytelling. It’s in the fundamentally challenging task of institutional self-representation. How do you tell a complex story about what you do in a way that gets picked up by newspapers? How do you make technical education sound important to people who may never set foot on your campus? How do you build trust and credibility when you’re competing for students and attention? These are problems the Department of Public Relations was solving, and their solutions are documented here.

What makes this collection endure is that it answers real questions:

1. How did IIT see itself in the late 1930s?
2. What did they believe were their key strengths worth announcing?
3. What kind of students and programs were they promoting?
4. How did technical education market itself in this historical period?
5. What values did the institution emphasize to the public?

For researchers, this is gold. For anyone interested in the history of American universities, the evolution of public relations, or simply what daily institutional life looked like in 1939, these releases offer genuine insight. They’re unglamorous, practical documents that reveal more truth than a polished history ever could.

Reading these releases now, you realize they’re a kind of time capsule. They document not just what IIT was doing, but how institutions thought about themselves and their public role. In 2026, when we think about higher education, accountability, and institutional communication, the basic challenges those 1939 press releases were addressing haven’t really changed—they’ve just gotten more complex. That continuity is why this collection still matters. It reminds us that universities have always been in the business of telling their story, and the way they tell it says as much about their values and priorities as anything else. This document is that story, told in the institution’s own voice, frozen in time from a pivotal year.