Blood Hounds Tree White Man

From the May 30, 1913, Nashville Globe

On last Thursday morning, May 22, it was discovered at Fisk University that some one had been stealing from the institution. So annoyed were the members of the faculty in charge that it was thought advisable to secure blood hounds to trace the guilty party.

When the dogs reached the grounds they struck out a chase which they never relinquished until they had come into the house of a white man on Amonsia street, even going into the bed. The dogs could not be turned off the trail.

The white man, it is said, conducts a grocery in that community and all were so amazed when the dogs stopped at his house that they did not know what to do. No one could believe that he was the guilty party, but if there is any virtue in blood hounds, and if there ever was a case that seemed to establish beyond a doubt, it was this one. It is said that they went direct to the house and lounged in and climbed all over the bed of the man. The action of the dogs seemed to have caused a great embarrassment to the faculty and no one seemed willing or to have courage enough to order the man to be arrested.

Such action is unknown in the history of Nashville and Tennessee, for the people have great faith in blood hounds. You cannot make a southern believe that these famous canines will make a false report.

It has happened that they were thrown off their track but it has never been known for them to accuse the wrong party. Just why there has been so much hesitancy in arresting the man is not known.

A short while ago a Negro boy who had been in the University for several years was suspected of theft and was promptly arrested and lodged in jail. The friend of the child who had paid his expenses in the institution since he had been there, came all the way from New York and it is said that he upbraided the faculty for having treated the boy so rashly. This gentleman on his return to the East carried the young fellow with him, for he was only a child, but when a white man is chased down by blood hounds there is still some doubt in the minds of the authorities as to his guilt and he is still at large.

(Newspapers .com)

From the July 1, 1975, Nashville Banner

By Robert Churchwell

Black churchwomen are “more liberated” than their “white sisters,” a woman minister in the African Methodist Episcopal Church said here Monday.

The Rev. Juanita Payne, pastor of Winters Chapel A.M.E. Church, Lebanon, said she came away from a conference of United Churchwomen “amazed” at the way white women accept inferior status to men.

“I found that we are more liberated than our white sisters,” the Rev. Payne said in comments before the A.M.E. Tennessee Annual Conference at St. John A.M.E. Church.

One of several women speaking on the status of women in the denomination at the opening session of the Women’s Missionary Society, the Rev. Payne, who was ordained in 1968, said, “The Lord has abundantly blessed my ministry.”

“I have had no opposition from the men,” she said.

“Praise the Lord,” she added, “He is using women in the home, in the government and a woman one day might be President. He’s got a woman queen of England today.”

Mrs. A. Lewis Williams, Nashville, said the A.M.E. Church “took a stand for women preachers a long time ago.” She said the church “recognized that in Christ we are all one.”

“I am proud of black women and their status in the world,” said Mrs. Williams, the wife of an A.M.E. minister and general officer.

Bishop W. R. Wilkes Sr., conference presiding head, cautioned delegates going to Washington next week for four national A.M.E. meetings to be “very careful.”

“If you don’t,” he said, “something might happen to you. The crime rate in Washington is very high. Sisters, those of you who carry a lot of money, don’t carry it in cash, Get travelers checks.”

Wilkes warned young female delegates to be “especially careful” in Washington. “Don’t go riding with boys you don’t know.”

The conference’s traditional “Night in White” program will be at 7:30 p. m. today. The Rev. S.M. Davis, pastor of Ebenezer A.M.E. Church, Clarksville, will preach.

(Tennessee State Library and Archives)

From the March 30, 1982, Nashville Banner

By John Taylor

More than 100 55-gallon drums of diesel fuel and oil burst into flames in a chain-reaction explosion today at the Southern Oil Service warehouse in South Nashville, authorities said. …

Metro Fire Chief Fred Davis said there were no injuries but he said the fire could have been “very dangerous” if any of the 25,000-gallon tanks had exploded.

Metro Fire Marshal John Collins said the fire was “pretty will contained” to the warehouse by noon although flames were still shooting as high as 50 feet out of the roof of the warehouse.

Jim Rau, sales manager of Southern Oil Service, said the damage would reach as high as several hundred thousand dollars.

Joe Poulin, plant manager of the Southern Oil Service warehouse, said the fire started at approximately 10:30 a.m. when a spark from a welder’s torch ignited some dry [grass].

“We had a man cutting a pipe and evidently a spark from the cutting torch fell into a grassy area,” said Poulin. He said the grass fire spread into a warehouse in a matter of seconds and the 55-gallon drums containing oil began exploding.

As firefighters sprayed water into the burning warehouse, several drums inside exploded.

Poulin said five workers attempted to put the flames out with fire extinguishers but when they determined it was out of hand they called the Metro Fire Department.

When firefighters arrived at the warehouse, located at 63 Hart St., they found flames shooting 80 feet high out of the warehouse and thick, black smoke enveloping the area for several miles. The fire soon spread to an adjoining warehouse and company officials predicted that three buildings would be destroyed before the fire was completely extinguished.

Davis said the main priority was cooling down those 25,000 gallon tanks with large volumes of water.

The company owns two 25,000-gallon tanks of gasoline across the street from the burning warehouses but fire officials said they did not believe the tanks were in danger.

Davis said the 25 employees who were in the warehouses when the explosions began all got out safely. He said no one was evacuated from the neighboring houses and businesses. However, police blocked all streets leading into the fire area to traffic.

Poulin said the warehouse contains more than 100 55-gallon drums of diesel and different types of oil and about 12 tanks containing oil. …

(Tennessee State Library and Archives)

Editor’s note: The Tennessean reported the next day: “Three oil terminal warehouses were destroyed yesterday in a fire that darkened Nashville’s skyline with thick black smoke and sent thousands of gallons of spilled oil into the Cumberland River. Two firefighters received minor injuries [in] the spectacular blaze….”

From the April 1, 1870, Nashville Union and American

… The first of April is called in the English language April or All-fool’s Day, but the custom of sending people on empty errands and laughing at them is quite common in Europe and in America. Two accounts are given of its origin. The Oriental scholars say that it is derived from the huli feast among the Hindoos, where a similar custom prevails. There is another opinion, and an older one, that it comes from a celebration of Christ’s being sent about to and fro, between Pilate, Herod and Calaphas.

In France the fooled man is called poisson d’avril, meaning a silly fish, like a mackerel, easily caught. In Scotland he is called a gowk, which means a cuckoo.

In this country the victim of the joke is called simply an “April Fool.” Again, the origin of “All Fool’s Day” is ascribed to the first day of April as the time when Noah sent the dove from the Ark to discover land, and finding none, returned from the “errand” with the olive branch.

Leaving the origin of the day to the authorities and those who study them, we will add that it is among the favorite and venerable diversions of the day to send persons on nonsensical and empty errands, and to laugh at them on their return. There are various ways of making an April fool, and those who would not be sold today would do well to keep their wits about them.

For on this day are people sent,

On purpose for pure merriment;

And though the day is known before, 

Yet frequently there is great store

Of those forgetfuls to be found

Who’re sent to dance Moll Dixon’s round;

And having tried each shop and stall,

And disappointed at them all,

At last some one tells them of the cheat;

Then they return from their pursuit,

And straightaway home with shame they run.

And others laugh at what is done;

But ‘tis a thing to be disputed,

Which is the greatest fool reputed—

The man that innocently went,

Or he that him design’dly sent?

(Tennessee State Library and Archives)

From the March 11, 1863, Nashville Dispatch

In our Sunday’s issue we published the fact that Ella V. Reno and Sarah E. Bradbury had been arrested in military uniform, at Murfreesboro’, and sent to Col. Truesdail. After an examination into their case, the Colonel generously provided them with comfortable female attire, and furnished them with means to reach their homes. Miss Bradbury, whose assumed name was Frank Morton, made a written statement of her life, under oath, before the Judge Advocate, from which we make the following extracts:

“I am eighteen years old, was born in Wilson county, Tennessee, and moved from there to this county about one year ago. I was raised by a step-father, my mother having died when I was seven years old. I have no recollection of having ever seen my father. I lived seven miles from Nashville, on the old Chicken road that leads from Nashville to Lebanon.

“I have been in the service six months. I first went into the 7th Illinois cavalry, in company C. This company was the body guard of Gen. Palmer. I was induced to go into the service by my friend Mr. H., who, by his frequent visits and manifestations of love, won my heart. I dressed myself in men’s clothing and determined to follow him. I served in this company two months, making a faithful and attentive soldier; while there I become Orderly for my General, and flatter myself that I made him a good officer. During all this time my sex was never discovered. Unfortunately, my friend was captured by the rebels while out scouting the day after I went into his company, and I have never heard of him since.

“Despairing of seeing him again, and becoming attached to a young man in the 22d Illinois infantry, I joined his regiment in order that I might be the more with him. I was with him constantly, and we have passed many pleasant hours together. One day, while taking a walk with him, and thinking that I had gained his confidence, I gave him my history and disclosed my sex. This he was surprised to hear, for he had taken me for a boy, and was disposed to doubt me. Since that time he has made me frequent proposals of marriage. Circumstances proved to me that I was mistaken in my man, for I soon became satisfied that he was not a gentleman. Thus loosing confidence in him, I made up my mind to return to my home. When I thought of my friends, I instantly abandoned the thought, and determined to remain in the army. Camp life agreed with me, and I never enjoyed better health in my life.

“Afterward I became a member of General Sheridan’s escort, company L, 2d Kentucky cavalry. One day Colonel Barret sent me as bearer of dispatches to Col. Libott, a distance of six miles. On my return, one of my brother orderlies betrayed me to the Colonel, he being jealous of my reputation as an orderly, and having found out my sex a few days previous. My sex thus exposed, I was arrested and sent to Col. Truesdail in irons. May I never fall into worse hands, for I found him a gentleman in every sense of the word.

“I have made a good and faithful soldier, have learned a good deal of human nature, and had some aspirations as a soldier, and thought at the time of my arrest that my chances were good for promotion. I will try to profit by the lessons I have learned.”

We strongly suspect Frank to be one who figured in Nashville some months ago. The soldiers brought a large number of girls with them—one is still here, known as Charley, and several have returned to their homes in the North.

(Tennessee State Library and Archives)

Editor’s note: This article appeared in the March 2013 issue of The Nashville Retrospect newspaper along with other Civil War stories from March 1863, including: “How Deserters and Spies are to be Treated,” “Negro Soldiers in the Rebel Army,” and “Fight at Brentwood.”

From the April 3, 1981, Nashville Banner

By John Taylor

About 35 fifth and sixth grade students at Buena Vista Elementary School today developed severe stomach pains and nausea and were taken to area hospitals after eating lunch at the school.

School officials said the students became ill after eating fresh pears in the school’s cafeteria.

“We think the perpetrator is some pears they were served at lunch. Some kids took two or three bites and became ill several minutes later,” District Fire Chief Wayne Crafton said.

The school is located at 1531 9th Ave. N.

Crafton said six of the students were taken to General Hospital by ambulances and about 12 others were taken to area hospitals by their parents. Some of the students were taken to the ambulances by stretcher.

Two of the students were treated at Baptist Hospital where doctors said they complained of abdominal pains, nausea and vomiting. Other parents were still arriving to take their children for medical care.

Metro Health officials planned to go to the hospitals to interview students to determine the cause of the problems.

School officials said about 35 students developed the food-poisoning symptoms.

Crafton said the poisoning could have been caused by the pears, but he added that officials are not completely sure it was the pears which caused the problems.

A teacher said one by one the students began holding their stomachs and crying complaining of severe stomach cramps.

The students had started their lunch period about 10:30 a.m., school officials said.

Crafton said food poisoning can be “very serious” but he said these cases did not seem to be critical.

Crafton said botulism has just about been ruled out. “If it was botulism, these kids would be in a whole lot worse shape right now,” he said.

Crafton said officials think the pears were the cause because all of the children had eaten the pears.

(Tennessee State Library and Archives)

Editor’s note: “Mass ‘Hysteria’ Tied To Student Illnesses” read the headline in The Tennessean the following day. From the article: “A hysterical reaction to the initial illness of a few students—not food poisoning—probably led to the sudden illness of 43 Buena Vista Elementary School students yesterday, health officials said. The vomiting and stomach cramps were short lived, as 29 of the fifth and sixth graders were taken, by ambulances and by teachers, to Metro General Hospital where they were treated and released within hours. ‘There probably was one child or a few of them who might have had a virus or something,’ said Dr. Bill Altemeier, chief of pediatrics at General Hospital. … “[The others] had acute anxiety reactions. They were just frightened.’” One official said he would not dismiss the possibility that cleaning agents or insecticides were also contributing factors.

This article appeared in the April 2017 issue of The Nashville Retrospect newspaper along with other stories from the city’s past, including: “Sword Unsheathed By Uncle Sam” (1917); “Our Relations With Russia” (1878); and “Monster Scales Union Station” (1955).

From the June 21, 1965, Nashville Banner

By Red O’Donnell

Nostalgia Dept.

Razing of the old Petrone (the late Michael Petrone & his colorful family) homeplace at 103 27th Ave. N., has turned up some musty, mellow movie memories.

Johnny Morton, who leases the property for a restaurant at 27th & West End, is having the house torn down, and likely will use the land for parking facilities.

But that isn’t the story at hand.

Workmen came across some half-century old posters advertising silent films starring actors who have either passed on or are inactive, at local theaters long-gone; pre-empted, as it were, by progress.

The billing sheets (multi-colored & in fair condition) were found in the walls; utilized perhaps as early-day insulation. One advertised William S. Hart & Bessie Love in “The Ayran” at the Knickerbocker; another Theda Bara in “Gold and the Woman” at the Strand. A third publicized an actress named Bertha Kalich in “Slander.”

The best guess of veteran movie buffs hereabouts is that the year was 1916.

Billy Wassman (a local cinema pioneer) was listed as owner of the Knickerbocker, which he opened in 1912 on Capitol Blvd., or 6th Ave. N. (It had exits and /or entrances on each). He sold it to Crescent Amusement Co. in late 1916.

A Super-X drug store now occupies the site.

The Strand was at 235 5th Ave. N. across from the Arcade, and began operating in 1916 under Carson Bradford. He sold out shortly thereafter to Ray Shelton. The Strand eventually became part of the Crescent chain.

With the exception of Bessie Love now 67 (a piquant blonde; remember?), all performers listed on the posters are deceased.

William S. Hart, a very popular, grim-faced western hero, died in 1946 at the age of 76; Theda Bara, a sultry-eyed sexpot (they were called vampires then) in 1955 at age of 65, and Bertha Kalich (hardly recalled by oldtimers, though she is listed in the World Almanac of early screen stars) in 1938 at 65.

The producers & directors of the pictures, & even the old Keystone Kops are no longer around.

Nor the 10 cent admission prices!

(Tennessee State Library and Archives)

Editor’s note: This article appeared in the  June 2011 issue of The Nashville Retrospect newspaper along with other stories from the city’s past, including: “Mother, 2 Daughters Hurt In Bomb Blast” (1960); “Wail Form A Community Of Poor White People” (1911); and “Young People Running Amuck" (1912).

From the June 13, 1873, Nashville Union and American

Early yesterday morning, a laborer employed by Wm. Nichol, Esq., who lives about five miles from the city on the Lebanon pike, while out looking for a stray cow, came up rather suddenly on the remains of a well-dressed stranger, who was lying on a piece of oil cloth, with his face down. He was attracted to the spot in the first place by the offensive smell. He did not approach near enough to the body to make a personal examination, but returned immediately to the house and informed Mr. Nichol of the circumstance, when the latter visited the spot, and found the man in the position described by the informant.

Coming to the city, Mr. Nichol apprised the coroner of the mysterious affair. Mr. L. G. Ryan, the deputy coroner, summoned a jury and proceeded to the place, where an inquest was held. The body was thoroughly examined and not a bruise was found upon his person. A bottle of morphine was found by his side, and the knife that he had used in taking the stopper from the bottle. Near the bottle too was a tin bucket nearly full of milk, in which was a tin cup. The body was very much decomposed, and indicated that he had been dead several days.

Upon the person of the deceased was found an American open face silver watch, a pocket book containing $68.70, and on the pocket book was the name in ink of “Atwood R. Morley, Yorkville, Ill.” His bank book was also in his pocket on the back of which in a legible hand was also the same name and place. On the cover of the book was “Kendall Company Bank,” and it also showed that he had made many deposits of small sums at sundry times. We did not strike a balance to ascertain whether he had drawn out his deposits, but we noticed that he had been checking on the banks at different times.

The deceased was apparently between 35 and 40 years of age, 5 feet 10 inches high, and had on when found a black hat, blue cashmere pants and net jacket. His body was in the position above described in the woods about one hundred yards from the river. Near the place where found was a shelter made of brush and leaves, under which was his trunk, containing fine clothing, every kind of fishing tackle, all the articles necessary for hunting, etc. He had also in his trunk a large lot of music, a magnificent flute, and many other articles. In his trunk was also a photograph of himself, a photograph of Ole Bull, and several fancy pictures. We noticed also among the papers examined some were prescriptions, at the head of which was printed the name of A. T. Seely, Druggist, Yorkville, Ill. A good many manuscripts were found in his trunk, including several pieces of poetry, written in good style, and which had the appearance of being prepared for the press. The following, on “A Rainy Day,” shows a refrain that is rather desponding, and is suited to the weather several days ago:

The day is cold and dark and dreary,

It rains and the wind is never weary,

The rain still clings to the mouldering wall,

But at every gust the dead leaves fall,

And the day is dark and dreary.

My life is cold and dark and dreary,

It rains and the wind is never weary; 

My thoughts still cling to the mouldering past,

But the hopes of youth fall thick in the blast, 

And the days are dark and dreary.

Be still, sad heart, and cease repining,

Behind the clouds is the sun still shining;

Thy fate is the common fate of all,

“Into each life some rain must fall,”

Some days must be dark and dreary.

Other pieces on different subjects were of the same melancholy strain. Poor sufferer! The heart bowed down with grief, unheeded save by himself, finally frenzied the brain, and self-destruction was the finale to a “life that was cold, and dark and dreary.”

The verdict of the jury of inquest was that he came to his death by an overdose of morphine. We should have mentioned above that a new gun that never had been loaded was found by his side, and he had with him all the necessary cooking utensils, and was well fixed for a life of a recluse.

His remains were brought to the city, and his personal effects are in the hands of L. G. Ryan, and if he has friends or relations, information can be had by addressing him. Illinois papers are requested to publish the details of this sad occurrence.

(Tennessee State Library and Archives)

Editor’s note: Fortunately today a person can seek immediate help when feeling suicidal by dialing 988 or visiting 988Lifeline.org. This article appeared in the June 2015 issue of The Nashville Retrospect newspaper along with other stories from the city’s past, including: “‘Rock And Roll’ May Be Fad, But To Dad It’s Bad” (1956); “Fourth of July” (1818); and “Freeman’s 120-Year-Old Bible Was Waterlogged, But Survived” (1976).

From the May 22, 1972, Nashville Banner

By Elmer Stewart

Thousands of red, white and blue balloons floated into the air Sunday afternoon at Opryland, U.S.A. as an estimated 3,500 invited guests were singing God Bless America, marking the dedication and a “dress rehearsal” preview of the $28 million blend of music, architecture and nature theme park.

Following a 45-minute program of dedicatory speeches by top officials of NLT Corp., National Life and Accident Insurance Co. and WSM Inc. on a hot asphalt parking lot, the crowd moved into the three-shaded entertainment portion of the park to get a first-hand look at the many food and entertainment facilities.

By the time Opryland gates closed, park officials estimated that as many as 12,000 pleasure seekers had passed through the turnstiles.

The park will be opened to the public Saturday.

G. Daniel Brooks, chairman of the boards of directors of WSM, National Life and Accident and NLT, told the audience at the dedication program that Opryland was the “logical outgrowth of the principle of service to the American family,” the premise upon which National Life and Accident was founded more than 70 years ago.

It also was the result of the giant insurance company’s “desire to render a standard of service to the community and region beyond the contract,” he said.

Mike Downs, the general manager of the park, while on the bunting-draped platform said that in view of the warmth of the day he would only explain three points:

“What sort of a place is Opryland?” he asked. Then he said it was “to the best of our efforts a different—and better—park of family entertainment.”

“It’s a dress rehearsal day,” he continued, “and we can expect a lot of tears from the boys and girls” who were there to staff, serve and entertain, but hitches were few.

In conclusion Downs commended the work of all persons involved in the planning, construction and operation of the park saying “that never in my life have I worked with so many fine people.”

The well-scrubbed, uniformed youngsters who appeared everywhere running the concessions, herding guests into lines at the various rides and shows and standing anxiously every few feet in anticipation of a dropped piece of litter, acted like veterans.

The 1880 vintage carousel sat idle—a gear stripped—and too much water was splashing out of the Flume Zoom, one of the rides.

But then the shows were free Sunday and nobody could complain about that. Saturday, it’ll cost $5.25 to enter the gates.

Sunday’s festivities were for employes of Opryland’s corporate parents, WSM, Inc., and the National Life and Accident Insurance Co., newsmen and dignitaries.

Gov. Winfield Dunn, Rep. Richard Fulton, and Nashville Mayor Beverly Briley were on the speaker’s platform along with representatives of the country music industry, Roy Acuff and Tennessee Ernie Ford.

Brooks in his remarks told the dedication ceremony audience that Opryland was the end result of a chain reaction started 47 years ago when Uncle Jimmy Thompson sat down with his fiddle in front of a microphone.

For that was the beginning of the Grand Ole Opry, which will move into a new home at Opryland sometime before the end of 1974.

Downs emphasized that Opryland is different than other tourist attractions such as Disneyland or Six Flags over Georgia.

“Opryland is an entertainment park, and this is what makes us different, and better,” Downs said. “It is a park in which we have tried to preserve as much of God’s green earth as was humanly possible.”

The winding walks of Opryland pass through five different “towns” each symbolizing the birthplace of the five principle currents in the mainstream of American music—western, folk, country, jazz and blues and contemporary.

There are rides in Opryland such as a steam-powered train, a sophisticated roller coaster called a “timber topper,” and a log flume. But entertainment is the main theme.

And entertainment is almost continuous in one part of the park or another.

Sunday, a marching band strutted through the complex, passing by a group of teenaged square-dancers, past an amphitheater where a folk music show was starting and finally stopping for cold drinks at a refreshment stand near a pavilion where a country and western trio twanged.

Refreshments, visitors found, aren’t ordinary refreshments.

There are no hot dogs, just “Opry dogs” and “Grand Ole Doggies.”

There are no ice cream bars, just “Guitar Bars,” ice cream on a stick in the shape of Nashville’s best-known symbol.

Of course, there was the customary optimism that accompanies such an event.

“This park is going to do even better than Disneyland or Six Flags,” said Danny Davis, Nashville trumpeter-band leader.

Echoing the same tone was a pretty lass who greeted visitors ready to enter the animal ravine.

“The animals haven’t arrived yet,” she said apologetically. “But it’s a nice walk.”

(Tennessee State Library and Archives)

Editor’s Note: This year marks the 50th anniversary of the opening of Opryland USA theme park. The park closed in 1997 and was replaced by Opry Mills mall. This story appeared in our May 2012 issue. For more Opryland stories, get the Opryland U.S.A. Sampler Set.

From the July 19, 1968, Nashville Banner

By John McLemore

I took a ride on a Spider.

That’s right. It’s probably the biggest and as far as any of the officials of Life & Casualty know, the only one of its kind in the city.

Before Elmer Stewart left on vacation, he said, “John, I want you to go down to the Third National Bank Building and take a look at the new window washing machine they’ve got up there.”

I said (to myself) “Oh boy, surely this will make for an exciting afternoon of hard core newspaper experience.” I recalled from my childhood days that I could hardly wait for spring to come so we could wash the windows at home. I was overjoyed with this—my first big assignment.

I stalled and stalled hoping that something would pre-empt my afternoon with window washer, but it was hopeless. After volunteering to stand watch at the AP machine to make sure that Howard Hughes didn’t buy Texas, Wartrace or Vintson’s Café at 13th and Broadway, I was hustled out the door with pencil and paper in hand and orders to “get the story.”

I met Robert Allbert, foreman of the iron workers for Henry C. Beck Construction Co., outside the Fourth Avenue entrance to the Third National Bank Building, which I soon discovered was owned by Life and Casualty Insurance Co. This bothered me, but Allbert did not give me enough time to worry about it.

Unnerving Chuckle

All the way up the 20-story structure, Allbert kept chuckling and saying “so you want to ride on the spider, eh boy?” And I kept replying with my fixed pre-fab Dale Carnegie smile, “They told me to come up and take a look at it.”

When they started talking about taking a ride on the Spider, I developed a picture in my mind of a piece of machinery like the cherry picker that the phone company uses with the long jointed arm that lifts men to the wires and into big trees. I thought the spider would be something that had a big arm that reached down. I was in for a surprise.

The spider was a four-wheeled rubber-tired hydraulic-driven vehicle with a boom that extended over the edge of the roof. Attached to the boom was a basket. It needed little explanation. I understood clearly from the start. It looked like something my father once built with our Erector set.

Allbert sat down at the controls turned on the electric engine which started the oil pump which engaged the hydraulic drive system which caused the spider to creep from under its storage shed and around the sidewalk to the edge.

He came to a halt right across from the L&C Tower 250 feet above Church Street, dismounted and began to tie the machine into the concrete. An anchor which extended from the side of the spider furthest from the edge was sunk into a “dead man,” one of several in the walk which were evenly spaced so that the basket would always drop on a line from which two complete windows could be reached.

Cable Locked Small

This procedure gave me no confidence, which was soon shaken by the size of the cable that attached the basket to the boom. 

Two-hundred-fifty feet of ¼ inch steel cable looks quite strong as long as it is on a spool. However, it somehow lost its appeal as the boom telescoped over the side, readying the basket for our ride.

The cable extended through the center of the basket to a winch which was attached to the floor of the stage from the lower side. There was an equal amount of electric wire on board which would supply the winch with power for the descent and ascent. The riders have to take the wire in and feed it out as they go up and down the building’s walls.

When all preliminary adjustments were completed, Allbert said, “Well who is going to ride with me?”

It was a two-man stage. If only one person tried to ride, it would tilt dangerously toward his side. I looked at Charles Warren, the photographer, who declined saying, “How am I going to take a picture of you washing windows if I go down in the basket and you stay up here?” At the time it seemed like a point well made.

We climbed onto the stage and began our descent. Allbert had asked me if I wanted to take the controls but I refused the honor since it was my maiden voyage and I wanted both hands free to hold on.

After we dropped about 10 feet he stopped the basket and clamped a stanchion which was attached to the stage around one of the intermediate mullions on the building. These mullions are shaped like a conventional railroad track, help hold the glass in the windows, add a great deal to the appearance of the structure and combine with the clamp on the stage to make one of the best safety devices window washing has seen in years.

The stanchion allows the basket to ride the rail (mullion) up and down the wall, however it holds the rig so close into the building that rubbed buffers on the basket roll along the big shiny aluminum mullions which make the Third National building stand out in the Nashville skyline. The device prevents the stage from swinging freely in the wind, according to Allbert.

Down And Down

We continued our descent, just missing the flood lights that illuminate the gold metal work above the 20th floor and down to the office windows beneath. We stopped for a moment to stare in the window of the City Club but we couldn’t attract an unsuspecting diner.

H. F. Smith, vice president of realty for Life and Casualty, said that the Spider Window Washing Stage, (its official name) will be contracted to a professional window washing company as soon as the building is completed. The equipment was manufactured by Spider Staging Co. of Seattle, Wash., Smith stated, and it is the only equipment of its kind in Nashville.

“This type of rig has been in use on buildings in other cities for several years and it will probably appear frequently on the Nashville skyline in the future,” says Allbert.

On the trip back to the roof I gained a great deal of faith in the Spider. It is a sturdy craft and fun to ride.

(Tennessee State Library and Archives)

Editor’s note: The original caption for the photo on this page: “Robert Allbert, foreman of the ironworkers for Henry C. Beck Construction Co, maneuvers the Spider into position parallel to the edge of the roof. The boom mounted on top of the rig, telescopes over the side of the building.The window washers control the vertical movement of the stage by push button control which starts and stops the wench which is mounted under the floor of the basket.”

From the Aug. 15, 1963, Nashville Banner

By Jack Setters

Banner outdoors editor Bob Witt was credited today with saving the life of a Lansing, Ill., visitor who was hurled into Centennial Park Lake Wednesday [when hit] by a runaway station wagon.

Two children of the victim also were knocked into the lake in the same accident but were snatched back to safety by startled park visitors. The owner of the station wagon suffered a mild heart attack, and the mother of the children collapsed from shock.

After helping two youths drag the unconscious victim from three feet of water, Witt applied artificial respiration and slowly brought air back into the man’s lungs.

“He already had turned blue,” Witt said, “Actually, I didn’t have much hope I would be able to help him.”

The victim, Charles Franklin, 45, of 17848 Rose St., Lansing, was reported in fair condition today at St. Thomas Hospital.

In addition to terrific shock, Franklin also suffered a dislocated shoulder and broken ribs, police said.

Franklin’s two daughters, Linda, 9, and Donna, 12, were knocked into the lake and pinned down by the driverless vehicle, but they were snatched back to safety.

Both girls were treated for cuts and bruises and were released from St. Thomas.

Their mother, Mrs. Estes Franklin, 45, who barely missed being hurled into the water in the freak accident, was treated for severe shock.

In the aftermath, Harold G. Hagg, 6329 S. Mozart St., Chicago, owner of the runaway station wagon, suffered a mild heart seizure, and was hospitalized briefly, for treatment.

Hagg assisted in rescuing the victims and spectators said he appeared to be in a state of shock.

Witt, who was covering a national casting tournament at Watauga Lake, said he heard screams for help from across the lake, on the north side.

Sensing someone was in the water and might need life-saving techniques, Witt hurried to his automobile and drove rapidly to the north side, saving precious moments.

By the time he reached the scene, one of the girls had been dragged from her helpless position beneath the front end of the station wagon.

Witt assisted in releasing the older girl, Donna, from beneath the front end of the partially submerged vehicle.

Nashville Patrolman David L. Thompson quoted the girl as saying she could raise her head and breathe, but could not struggle free without assistance.

“By this time, we knew their father was down there in the water somewhere,” Witt said, “but we couldn’t see him. He was under there for at least five minutes, maybe longer.”

Witt, an expert fisherman, said Franklin responded well to artificial respiration.

“That was one time I sure was glad I was there, and knew what to do,” the popular outdoors writer-editor declared.

Others who played major roles in the dramatic lakeside incident were identified as:

• W. A. Bacigalupo, a driver for Yellow Cab Co, who witnessed the accident, radioed his office to send an ambulance, and then assisted in the rescue efforts.

• Jerry Cook, 20, a Trevecca Nazarene College student, who works as an office boy for the Nashville Tennessean.

• Gene Cook, 23, of 70 Lester Ave.

The Cooks, cousins, were playing croquet near the scene and were the first to leap into the lake and begin operations which freed the two girls.

Hagg, whose automobile was severely damaged while it was being hoisted from the lake by a wrecker, was unable to offer any explanation for why his parked station wagon began rolling.

It followed a path approximately 80 feet to the water’s edge while startled park visitors dodged to safety.

Franklin and his two daughters were making movies and were not aware of the runaway car until it struck them, witnesses said.

Mrs. W. H. Franklin, 4407 Colorado Ave., a sister-in-law of Charles Franklin, said she and three other members of the family were “brushed” by the careening station wagon.

She identified them as Mrs. Emily Franklin of Lansing, mother of Charles; a niece, Mary Jo Franklin, 7, and a grandson, Trey White, 5.

“I had just told Charlie and the children it was time to go,” Mrs. Franklin was quoted as saying. “When I turned to go to my car, I saw the station wagon coming at me.

“I pushed on the car to get out of the way and screamed. But it hit Charlie and the children before they could see what was happening. Then I started screaming for help, and the men jumped in (the lake) and began working to get them out.”

Mrs. Franklin said she and her mother-in-law and the two children were “very lucky” to maneuver themselves out of the path of the oncoming vehicle.

She said physicians informed the family early today that Franklin’s condition is improved. “We feel much better about him now,” she declared.

Linda and Donna, she said, are “cut up and badly bruised.”

“We can’t get all the grease and dirt out of their hair,” she said. “They’re still very much shaken by all of it.”

(Tennessee State Library and Archives)

Editor’s note: This article appeared in the August 2015 issue of The Nashville Retrospect newspaper. It is also part of our Amazing Rescues Sampler Set.

From the Dec. 1, 1946, Nashville Banner

By Louise Davis

From the “Hell Hole of the Universe,” on the coast of Ecuador, came the gruesome shrunken human head on exhibit at the Nashville Children’s Museum.

Not much larger than a baseball is the long-haired head of a grown man who once roamed the wild South American jungles where swamps filled with alligators and deadly reptiles have given the section the name of horror. Though the victim was an Indian, probably of the Jibaro head-hunting tribe in the wilds of the coastal area between the Andes and the Pacific, his once bronzed skin is now a sooty black, and his features have shrunk to doll-like proportions.

The eye lashes and brows remain, and even in its diminutive form the face retains recognizable features. The cheek “bones” are high, the chin pointed, the nose stubby and flattened. The long black hair has a streak of gray across the top and along the sides.

From the lips hang loose strands of brown thread which were doubtless white when they were first used to sew up the mouth of the decapitated victim. First step in shrinking the head is stitching together the lips, and after that the skin is slit down the back of the head and all bones are removed. Shape of the head and features are held by a long process of packing hot sand inside, and a tannic solution preserves and shrinks the skin. Remote tribes that practice head-hunting and shrinking take pride in the beauty of their finished work and consider a good job an honor to the victim. The finished head is mounted on a round wooden pedestal.

According to Mrs. Arthur Dyer of Brentwood, who brought the head back with her when she returned from a trip to Ecuador in 1941, Ecuadorian tribesmen in years gone by made a regular practice of decapitating their enemies and putting the heads through the painstaking shrinking process so that they could exhibit them as trophies in their homes. If a man had an impressive array of shrunken heads, his prestige rose; he was a man to be reckoned with indeed.

But when tourists and scientists invaded the savage areas a few years ago and began buying shrunken heads as souvenirs or scientific marvels, Ecuador faced a grave problem. Incorrigible tribesmen were killing off other men and shrinking their heads just to supply the tourist demand for heads ranging in price from $10 to $15. The tribesmen weren’t above killing off visiting white men and shrinking their heads, and one party of visiting scientists was horrified to recognize among the shrunken trophies the faces of two German scientists who had disappeared during a jungle expedition.

Ecuador could do little about the head-hunters except cut off their market. They made it illegal for anyone except properly authorized scientists who were collecting items for study and exhibits in museums to transport shrunken heads over the border.

Mrs. Dyer, during her South American tour, had become acquainted with a lady archaeologist who was collecting shrunken heads for the University of Arizona museum. And in some way which Mrs. Dyer herself can hardly understand today, she too was fascinated with the idea of bringing home a shrunken head.

It was not easy. Guides professed ignorance of any place where the heads could be bought. But after days of cultivating the friendship of a guide in coastal Cuenca, Ecuador, Mrs. Dyer was led again to a shop where the shopkeeper had repeatedly denied that he had any heads for sale or knew where they could be got.

When all other customers had cleared the place, Mrs. Dyer’s guide and the shopkeeper withdrew for an earnest conference. Reticent about the whole matter of shrunken heads, the two conferred in whispers and finally, hesitant still, the shopkeeper set three heads out on the counter. They were all men’s heads, since tribesmen don’t bother to kill off or shrink women, but the one that Mrs. Dyer bought was the smallest of the three.

One head, that of a bushy-haired boy, she liked better. But for the practical reason that it was larger and would be harder to transport, she passed it up and settled on the adult head with the flowing black locks. How she got the trophy out of Ecuador Mrs. Dyer doesn’t care to discuss now, but it was hazardous enough that she is glad the whole adventure is in the past, and she knows she would never try a thing like that again.

She knows too that it is authentic, because the lady archaeologist examined it and determined that point. Later Mrs. Dyer saw numerous wax imitations of shrunken heads in museums in Lima, and she knew of many persons duped into buying expensive “heads” that were phonies. Hers cost $15 and a lot of danger, and she devoutly hopes that its usefulness to children and adult scientists who observe it at the museum will justify the risks she took in spiriting it out of the “Hell Hole of the Universe.”

(Tennessee State Library and Archives)

Editor’s note: Ultimately the Dyers donated two shrunken heads to the Nashville Children’s Museum, and they were exhibited as “Jivaro Indians.” Some Nashville kids recall seeing the exhibit. The heads have since moved around. One was stolen from the museum display as an apparent prank in 1960, and a 2007 article says the heads were given to the department of anthropology at Vanderbilt University. A  call to the department revealed that the current location of the shrunken heads is unknown.

This article appeared in the October 2017 issue of The Nashville Retrospect newspaper along with other stories from the city’s past, including: “Halloween Night Offers Chances To Masquerader” (1918); “A Lunatic” (1835); and “The Strange Case of Dr. Beaver, Part II” by Jean Roseman.

From the May 5, 1911, Nashville Globe 

With the aid of asepsis, antisepsis and anesthesia, the modern up-to-date surgeon can stay the hand of death and compel despondency and suffering to take their flight.

He is a glorious boon to mankind and an indispensable factor in our civilization. Dr. J. T. Wilson, clinical instructor at Meharry Medical College, owner and surgeon-in-chief of the most elaborately equipped private infirmary in the city of Nashville for colored [people], reports a most phenomenal case of surgery which he has successfully done under most adverse circumstances.

The name of the person who happens to be the particular patient is Robert Melver, colored, age 18, and lives on South Cherry street, Nashville, Tennessee. The patient has always been in good health and there is nothing in his family or personal history that has bearing on [this] particular case.

Sunday morning about one o’clock, April 23, 1911, the patient was shot with a .32 calibre revolver, and after being shot, ran about 200 yards and fell. He was picked up later by spectators and brought to the Wilson Infirmary and on arriving there had a deathlike appearance, pinched expression, dilated pupils and skin bathed in cold perspiration. The respirations were shallow and irregular. The radial pulse was not palpable, but on auscultation, the heart was found to be beating feebly and rapidly.

Dr. Wilson at once gave about 10 minims of adinalin [adrenaline?] and one-fortieth grain of strychnine to the patient and in a short time there was a radial pulse and the condition of the heart much improved.

He had sent for help to operate, but in the meantime called up the City Hospital, and they came and after seeing the condition of the patient, refused to take him.

Finally, Drs. Bandy and Elliotte arrived and seeing that an operation was absolutely necessary at once, Dr. Wilson ordered the patient prepared immediately.

Upon careful examination it was found that the ball [bullet] had entered the thorax about an inch above and to the left of the left nipple. The ball, after passing through the skin superficial and deep fascia, pectorals major and minor muscles, entered the pericardium, making a contused wound in the left auricle of the heart, about 2/5 of an inch long. It then penetrated the pleura and lower lobe of the left lung, and finally lodged in the trapezius muscle on the left side of the spine opposite the 7th dorsal vertebrae.

By careful manipulation the ball was finally extricated, two stitches taken in the left auricle of the heart, all hemorrhages arrested, air pumped out of the cavity and the wound closed and dressed.

The patient after more than ten days is doing very well with no sign of infection, pulse fairly good and temperature about normal, but there are some signs of pneumonia.

Medical literature records but few operations upon the heart and perhaps there has never been one done before by a colored surgeon in the South.

Dr. Wilson has done at least one operation each day this year with a minimum death rate. He has done several Caesarean sections and only recently removed a lithopedion [a calcified dead fetus] of 11 years’ standing.

It is hoped that he may live long to erect a monument of fame to himself and race and thus be able to hand down a rich heritage to modern surgery.

(Newspapers .com)

Editor’s note: The first successful heart surgery was performed in Chicago in 1893 by another African-American surgeon, Dr. Daniel Hale Williams. Williams taught clinics at Meharry Medical College and in 1900 established Mercy Hospital in Nashville as a teaching hospital for Meharry.

According to the book Educating Black Doctors: A History of Meharry Medical College by James Summerville: “Not long after the opening of the 1900–01 school year at Meharry, Daniel Hale Williams began at Mercy Hospital the series of clinics that were to profoundly influence the lives of the students and faculty members who observed him at work. The Meharry catalogs listed the ‘rare and difficult operations’ he performed, including the removal of fibroid tumors, diseased ovaries and tubes, ovarian cysts, and appendixes. Williams was meticulously attentive and methodical, yet his procedures were rapid in the absence of adequate general anesthetic. The hundreds who crowded into the operating room received a memorable demonstration of an educated touch applied to affliction requiring surgical treatment. After a time, white doctors began joining the students. ‘They never saw such a clean, swift operator,’ said Dr. J. H. Holman. ‘Why, Dr. Dan could sew up a man faster than any sewing machine ever made!’”

From the Nov. 24, 1884, Daily American

Completing the Dangerous Part of the Work—Much Solicitude Caused During Its Progress.

It was quite an amusing sight yesterday to see the men who were working on the east pier, No. 3, of the new bridge all muffled up in overcoats, scarfs and woolen gloves. Most of them had on galoshes, and those who did not have their feet so clad wore carpet, flannel or corn sacks wrapped around their feet. There was a large force of men working on the last section of the foundation of this pier, and it was finished before they left work yesterday evening. This was a communication devoutly to be wished, for the danger that the foundation of this old pier would be greatly weakened by the digging of the pits for the new pier and a serious accident might result. This was avoided by the precautions recommended by the City Engineer, Capt. Ed Mead, and approved by the Board of Public Works. This was done by building the foundation in three sections, each of which was built in a compartment made by driving curbing, or what is known to stone masons as a crib, down into each pit as it was dug, and by filling one of these cribs with the masonry before commencing to lay the other.

The anxiety over this part of the work was so much felt by the Mayor and the Board of Public Works, that they frequently visited the pits while the work was going on, and had a great many consultations about the precautions, necessary to be taken, with the contractors. The City Engineer has watched the work, staying by it all day, and often until late in the night, until his health has almost completely broken down. The people of this city are to be congratulated over the completion of all of the foundations for the piers of the new bridge, as the work can now be proceeded with fast enough before the highwater comes to make the delay in the completion on the piers on that account of very short duration.

(Tennessee State Library and Archives)

Editor’s note: This article appeared in the November 2017 issue of The Nashville Retrospect newspaper along with other stories from the city’s past, including: “Prohibiting Football” (1897); “The Penitentiary” (1857); and “Old Publishing House Crumbling” (1979).

From the Dec. 20, 1990, Nashville Banner

By Jane Gibbs Dubose

The final chapter will be written next year for the 50-year-old Belle Meade Theatre when it is closed to make way for a “superstore” bookstore.

The theater building on Harding Road will undergo a $750,000 renovation for a bookstore holding three times as many books as a typical mall bookseller.

The theater, whose Art-Deco style lobby holds autographed photographs of Ronald Reagan, Helen Hayes and Walt Disney, was a victim of the economies of single-screen cinemas.

“When you just have one movie, you have to run a movie so long by contract,” explained Don Amos, regional manager of Carmike Cinemas, the operator of the movie house.

“By the time it runs out, you’re not taking in a whole lot,” Amos said.

The theater will house a Bookstar store with more than 120,000 books and periodicals in 18,000 square feet.

Bookstar is part of a national chain owned by BDB, which in turn operates B. Dalton Booksellers and Barnes & Noble Bookstores. BDB is the nation’s largest book retailer with annual sales of more than $1 billion.

“We are preserving the marquee, and we are certainly planning on preserving the feel of the Art-Deco movie theater,” said Mary Thiele, promotions manager for the Austin, Texas-based chain.

The development will mark the first entrance of Bookstar and its affiliate Bookstore into Tennessee.

Renovation is scheduled to begin in the spring, and a grand opening of the bookstore is planned for September of 1991.

Kermit C. Stengel, whose company manages the building, said he had looked at several reuses for the structure, but Bookstop’s proposal went the furthest in keeping intact the style of the 1930s when it was designed.

“I worked very hard because I am a preservationist. I had a very direct interest in the Belle Meade,” said Stengel, whose grandfather, Tony Sudekum opened the theater on May 1, 1940.

“There are thousands of people who have grown up in that theater. My goal was to put it up the way it was. It’s one of a kind.”

The theater was built with 1,100 seats and now has about 800—about four times as many as today’s average theater.

It was built a cost of $250,000 and featured an afternoon talent show called the Happiness Club from 1940 to 1954 for young Nashvillians.

Bookstop was attracted to Nashville because of the city’s national identity as a book market and because it’s “an academic and professional center,” said Thomas A. Christopher, chief executive officer of Bookstop.

“Our superstores have a national reputation for their location in restored ‘movie palaces’ and other distinctive structures associated with the 1940s and 1950s,” he said.

The company recently renovated the Alabama Theater in Houston and the Loma Theater in San Diego.

Thiele said the company leases landmarks rather than new, less expensive space because the locations already are well known by the public.

“In general, these are landmarks and there is name recognition,” she said.

Bookstop’s superstore concept allows the company to offer a 10 percent discount on many books.

The Belle Meade Theatre was part of Sudekum's Crescent amusement Co., which he founded in 1907 and developed into a 150-theater chain across the Southeast. Carmike Cinemas and its predecessor Martin Theaters have operated the Belle Meade Theatre since 1961. It features a lobby and its tower and marquee have more than 1,600 incandescent and neon lights.

(Tennessee State Library and Archives)

Editor’s note: Read more about the history of the Belle Meade Theatre in Tom Henderson’s article “The Happiness Club,” available in the May 2010 issue of The Nashville Retrospect newspaper. In late September 2023 it was announced that the bulk of the Belle Meade Theatre building would be torn down to make way for a mixed-use development. For more, see the WKRN report: “Neighbors sound off on plans for former Belle Meade Theater.”

From the Dec. 11, 1959, Nashville Banner

By Jean Crawford

“Now children, in the olden days . . .” begins Mrs. Hermina Eisenmann.

Eyes light up. There are sighs of Ooooh! and Aaah!

And all of a sudden the children, and any stray adults who are lucky enough to get in on it, are transported to a Christmas morning in Germany in that far off day when “for Christmas you got a doll house that your father had made and on the tiny stove you could make little pancakes.”

On the outside Mrs. Eisenmann’s house at 2930 Glenmeade Drive looks like a conventional neatly kept American home.

But oh—the inside!

Here is a fairyland world of candy houses with popcorn roofs, of music boxes and dancing dolls, of a little store made by Mrs. Eisenmann’s grandfather back in 1872—a store with miniature bottles and baskets and a stove that works and little scales to weigh the tiny but perfect fruits and vegetables.

Spinning Wheel

Here a wondering child can see how thread is made on a spinning wheel and in the basement can watch Mrs. Eisenmann as she weaves her own good woolen cloth.

And if one tires of watching the loom or playing with the dolls from all over the world, one can spend an hour or two studying the post cards from far away places Mrs. Eisenmann has been. Or perhaps she will let you add a jelly bean to a Hansel and Gretel house she is making to send to a hospital or to some sick child.

Into this wonderful world 14 little Brownie Scouts from Dalewood School went Wednesday afternoon. Today a fourth grade class from the school will go to visit. 

They are just a few of the many people who will find some reason to call on Mrs. Eisenmann between now and Christmas to watch her light the candles on her tree and hear the faint tinkle of the 90-year-old chimes which revolve in its top most branches.

Hummel Dolls

They will hear her record of Madam Schumann-Heink singing “Stille Nacht” and perhaps Mrs. Eisenmann herself will sing for them that well-loved German Christmas Song “Tannenbaum.”

If they are very lucky perhaps she will let them fondle some of the beautiful Hummel dolls under her tree or the lovely doll “I got for Christmas every year with a new dress on”—the doll whose pigtails are made from her own mother’s hair.

All of this is true, partly because Mrs. Eisenmann is a woman who loves children (she reared 32 foster children in addition to her own son) and perhaps because she believes that all the troubles of the world could end if only the little children of all lands could understand each other.

Candy Houses

Mrs. Eisenmann whose German accent still adds a quaint note to her tongue, came to this country in 1923 and she and her architect husband made their home in Pennsylvania for many years.

Following his death six years ago she moved to Nashville to be near her son.

Here she has continued the custom which made her famous in Pennsylvania—making the little candy houses for all the hospitals and children’s homes. A couple of years ago she even sent one to the Eisenhower grandchildren and her letter of thanks from Mrs. Eisenhower is one of her most prized possessions.

But, she tells the children who marvel at her candy houses and her hand made rugs and all the wonders of her home—“Children, when I married I could not even sew. If there is something you want to do, you try it. God will give you the ability. That is a lesson for you.”

(Tennessee State Library and Archives)

Editor’s note:  Original caption for the above photo: “Mrs. Hermina Eisenmann lights the candles on her German Christmas tree to the delight of the Brownie Scouts from Troop 12 at Dalewood School. Heat from the candles spins chimes which ring as the top of the tree.”

This article appeared in the December 2013 issue of The Nashville Retrospect newspaper along with other stories from the city’s past, including: “Santa Claus Mail Box” (1907); “Hope For Christmas” (1957); and a Christmas cards from 1948.

From the Jan. 19, 1962, Nashville Banner

Students are beginning to outnumber adults in the parade of visitors at Parthenon galleries these days.

Gallery Director Harry Clifton said more and more teachers are displaying an active interest in the one-man showing of work by Banner cartoonist Jack Knox.

Knox’s exhibit includes watercolor and pen and ink scenes in addition to an impressive collection of original cartoons which have appeared in the newspaper.

Thursday the art class and industrial arts class of Cavert Junior High School visited the free display. Later in the day students of L.P. Ralph, art instructor at Peabody Demonstration School, streamed into the vaulted Parthenon.

View Landscapes

The youngsters viewed river landscapes, colorful rural scenes and powerful caricatures in cartoon crayon. Their reaction differed somewhat to those of many adults—especially the drawings depicting a weathered farmer plowing with a team of mules and a “left-hand plowline,” or the nostalgic paintings of a country church and the remains of a once-proud home constructed prior to the Civil War.

Signatures on the gallery register reflect a wide geographical representation in attendance. There are several signatures from Cuba, a sprinkling from New Jersey and a few from New York.

Nearly all of Tennessee is covered. Visitors included Mrs. F.E. Harris, Mrs. H.S. Hutcheson and Miss Mary Thompson, all from Cookeville; Steve Robertson of Ashland City and Mr. and Mrs. I.B. Epley of Hohenwald, with daughters Joan, Jean and Eileen. Benny C. Rogers of Fresno and Mr. and Mrs. Kyle Willoughby of Bowling Green were among the visitors to register early.

Names from Murfreesboro, Franklin, Chicago, Tullahoma, San Francisco, Chattanooga, Memphis, Daytona Beach, White Bluff, Gallatin, Clarksville, Smyrna, Goodlettsville and Waverly are mingled with those of guests from Midland, Tex., Baton Rouge, Lenoir City, N.C. and Macon, Ga.

Graphic Demonstration

One wall of the exhibit is a graphic demonstration of how color reproductions evolve in the daily paper—most fitting during this International Newspaper Week. This shows the original watercolors, the engraved plates of yellow, red and blue, the proofs of all three mixed with black and the final printing in the paper.

Still another panel depicts a front page headline concerning an event at the United Nations. The next step is a rough pencil sketch, then the original crayon rendition, the engraved reduction proof and, finally, the cartoon on a Banner Editorial Page.

Living Lesson

Most teachers are using the free program as a living lesson in expression. The program contains an article by Director Clifton, posing the much-discussed question: “Is a Cartoon Art?”

Clifton takes the position that Knox’s work definitely is art. In writing about cartoons, he says: “… They tell the story of the day, slanting either pro or con, as any artist telling a story must do. In all essential respects the effective cartoon must be a work of art, executed with skill and imagination, put together effectively as to as to composition, ridiculing, praising or condemning as the occasion warrants. In other words, it must communicate in a manner understandable to all.”

(Tennessee State Library and Archives)