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Epistles from Pap: Letters from the man known as 'The Will Rogers of Indiana' Part 20

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Ross; and now has a new husband, some Frenchman whose name I do not remember and am too hurried to look up. They were married about the first of this year. She met him at Hot Springs, Arkansas--and is he a honey? He is. (After seeing Elizabeth we came home by way of Veedersburg, where Sina and said husband now live. Sina's parents struck oil years and years ago, and built a rather pretentious house in Veedersburg. At the time of the striking of oil, Red Purnell said to me that the "oil would agree with Sina," and it has). If ever I saw an adventurer for a rich widow, he is it. She is about 75 and he is 12 years younger than she. Therefore he will outlast her, in all probability. I doubt if he has ANY business, but says he is a sort of artist; sells pictures or something like that. Says he will be having an exhibit soon in New Orleans and southern cities. For a wedding present he gave her two pictures--G.o.d knows what they are. I think I probably saw them but am confused with the mult.i.tude of objects he showed hanging all over HER house. She takes all that stuff in like a real soldier. I have seen four flushers in my time--but he is tops in my opinion.

This new husband talks a blue streak and he fails utterly to speak illy of himself. To be truthful, I was amazed the way he talked. Maybe the highlight--if there could be a highlight in his conversation--went something like this. On the grand piano (Sina's) was a small picture in a sort of gla.s.s rope frame. We think the picture was named "Blowing Bubbles." Anyway, it was one of Hitler's favorites and Bro. Hitler kept it on his desk. In some miraculous way, this new husband of Sina's got hold of it. I think he said he stole it, maybe meaning he gave so little for it that same was next to stealing, but however he got it, it is now valued at $250,000, which I would say was a dam sight too high, but sitting there in Veedersburg on Sina's piano, right out in the open, I should venture the guess it will soon disappear once the Public finds out its value. There is one thing sure--I will never break into Sina's house to steal that picture. It is absolutely safe so far as I am concerned, much safer than the weather-beaten tomatoes on Ben's back porch right here next door.

Eventually he asked my business. I told him I was a farmer, and then the fireworks did start. Above all things on this Earth he wanted to be a farmer. That was his life's ambition, and on and on he went. I told him there was much more about farming than meets the naked eye.

Sooner or later Munny will give you the address up on 5th Ave.

near Tiffany's where he is very prominent in some way or other.

This will do for today, Pap

METHODIST PIONEERS THINK OF PERU

November 16, 1952

Dear Footser: . . . I have, in a rather small way, suggested to Mutiny and Margaret that we try to spend from mid-January to about mid-April in Lima, Peru. . . There was an article in the Nov., 1952, Holiday telling about Peru and how cheap it was to live there. . .

I realize how much of a handicap we would be under. As time goes on, I get a little deafer, and G.o.d knows I am too old to try to learn any Spanish. . . If we could rent a modern furnished house and get reliable servant(s), then I don't know but what I'd try it. I just don't like cold weather. At the same time, I don't want to get into any particularly tight place. The article in Holiday was very favorable, as you know it would be. But the real facts might be far, far different. If I were 30 years younger, and without any wife or family, I think now, I'd sure try it just for the h.e.l.l of it, if for nothing else. I wouldn't under those circ.u.mstances stand back, or even be fearful. But as it is, it is different. What do you think about it?

Frank and I had a whale of a time last month going to Kansas, Okla., Texas, Miss. and Kentucky. You just don't know how high in Methodist circles us Durhams are. I'll tell you. I found it all out on this trip Frank and I took. Grandpappy, my grandpappy, Jacob Durham, came to Russellville from Perryville, Ky., in about 1828. About three miles east of Perryville, on the way to Danville, is what is known even now as the old Durham Farm. A man named G.o.dbey now owns it. Old man. He was there when Mutiny and I went camping on that farm about 35 years ago. His mother was a Durham. Well, since we were there, the Pioneer Mothers or DAR or Methodists or somebody have erected a granite monument to my great, great grandpappy, one John Durham. He owned the farm, and in 1783 he organized the first Methodist Church--then called "Methodist Society"--west of the Allegheny Mountains. He built a log church on his farm about 300 feet from where the monument now stands. The marker says that, and the records in the First Methodist Church of Danville back it up. My great Uncle Milton Durham in the 1890's, put a stained gla.s.s window in said church, with a full size picture in colored gla.s.s of what they must have imagined John Durham looked like. But there it is, bra.s.s marker and all. Uncle Milton graduated from Old Asbury in 1844, I think it was. Grandpa Durham put him through college. I have seen him.

He carried the cane for a few years prior to his death. He was tall, and the cane didn't reach the ground. He was the first Comptroller of the Currency the U.S. ever had. Grover Cleveland appointed him in the '80s.

Now what do you think of all that? And to think this Methodist DePauw University some 50 odd years ago broke relations with me, and the faculty gave me 24 hours to leave--23 of which I still have coming to me.

Pappy

Pap's final reference above was to the university's intention to suspend him for organizing a fraternity dance during his student days. He beat them to the punch by switching to Indiana University to finish out his college years.

THE INDOMITABLE BETTIE LOCKE

Pap wrote this speech for his daughter Ann to deliver at a convention of sorority Kappa Alpha Theta.

Bettie Locke Hamilton--the fabulous Bettie Locke of Greek letter sorority lore and literature--was no hand for dalliance, amorously or otherwise, in 1868 or any other time thereafter up to her death in 1939.

Indiana Asbury University (now DePauw University) located at my hometown, Greencastle, Indiana, decided to admit female students, beginning in the Fall of 1868, after a debate that started on a high level after much prayerful thought and meditation and ended in a knockdown and drag-out verbal fight that divided the dignitaries, bisected the Methodist Church temporarily, split the faculty into two hostile camps and put the town into a dither-- from railroad depot to barber shop and livery barn.

Rumor hath it that promptly at 8 o'clock on the morning of opening day, Bettie Locke presented herself for admission--the first female registrant of Asbury. Later, four other young ladies of a more timid disposition presented themselves and begged registration. . . Two years later, Kappa Alpha Theta--co-founded by Bettie Locke Hamilton, Alice Allen Brant, Bettie Tipton Lindsay and Hannah Fitch Shaw--became the first "Greek letter fraternity known among women." And that too was as Bettie Locke would have it.

In her girlhood days, Bettie Locke showed a disposition that was to develop into a Will of Iron . . . Her vocabulary was enormous, her diction virtually perfect, her stage presence commanding. The Theta Convention at Estes Park, Colorado, was in the summer of 1930 or '31. My oldest sister, Joan, was a delegate from Alpha Chapter. Bettie Locke Hamilton went along. It was near the last convention she attended. Mind you that was within eight or nine years of her death, and she must have been well in the 80s at the time of her decease. She spoke extemporaneously, and "brought down the house". . .

Bettie Locke was free in giving both unsolicited advice and criticism, as witness the following true story. My father started practicing law early in this century. Clients were few and far between . . . He was standing in front of the stairs leading to his modest office when along came Bettie Locke. She saw both him and his head piece, a cap he had acquired in college days. She strode straight up and said, "Andrew, a cap is unbecoming a young man starting the practice of law. Take it off and never let me see it again." He did--and she never. . .

Bettie Locke had a positive opinion about almost everything. She loathed lipstick. She abhorred bobbysox, and her opinion of short hair and short dresses was virtually unprintable. But don't get me wrong in the inference of those last words. No one, no where, at no time ever heard Bettie Locke utter one profane, vile or s.m.u.tty word. She was too cultured and had too good a command of the English language for that. She used sarcasm couched in such cla.s.sical language that the targets of her shafts only wished she would wax profane and vulgar. . .

Our family home is just off the DePauw campus, and a great many students pa.s.s to and fro. Many has been the time Bettie Locke would come and sit and talk with my Mother on our front porch.

And sooner or later the conversation would turn to the Thetas, and college girls in general and how they were doing, or drift back to her days--the 1860s and '70s. But just let a female in slacks--or shorts--I must mention shorts a second time--heave in sight and Bettie Locke was off and gone in a blistering monologue. And how she could blister.

Bettie Locke staunchly stood up for her rights. She never lost her voice. . . In her late years her teeth caused considerable trouble. She would not hear to having them all pulled and plates subst.i.tuted, but allowed them to go one by one whenever the pain became unbearable. Among the last was a big molar, that by the time she had to come to her dentist had become so infected and ulcerated nothing could be done about it except extract it. The good Dr. Overstreet explained all this and then proceeded to extract it without further ado.

On the way home she thought it all over, and the nearer home she came the madder she got. . . Neighbors added fuel, and with it some "chimney-corner law," as Hoosier lawyers call it. Next morning she stormed into the office and went straight to the point, as was her custom. "Doc, I'm going to sue you. Indeed I am. And you needn't try to talk me out of it. You had no right to pull that tooth without my consent. You had it out before I knew what you were doing. I was not consulted." . . . Nothing ever happened, but the time never came when Bettie Locke ceased threatening him with that suit. . .

It was not to be for me to know Bettie Locke in her peaches and cream days. I was to know her in her poi and soft food days. We children were rather afraid of her. She lived alone. The house was dark and rather forbidding. Some . . . who had felt her verbal barbs sometimes referred to her as the "witch of Walnut and Locust Streets." In later life she harbored a kitchen and cellar full of cats. None were aristocrats. They were the alley variety and had a pedigree about as long as my Spanish vocabulary. . .

I can't afford to lose this chance for getting a little matter before you, because after this forensic effort I may never get the chance to talk again in public. It has to do with my Theta pedigree. . . I virtually stem back to one of the Founding Mothers herself. . . Bettie Tipton, the one and only Bettie Tipton so far as we are concerned, and my Grandmother Durham were cousins--their Mothers were Blacks and they all lived on farms near Mt. Sterling, Kentucky. Bettie Tipton was opposite of Bettie Locke. She came from the blue gra.s.s and was as feminine as baby breath. . . She too had a hectic experience at Indiana Asbury, compared with the sheltered home in the blue gra.s.s from whence she had come. Maybe I'll tell you that story some time.

ANOTHER EARLY FEMINIST

December 16, 1952 Mr. and Mrs. Garnett Reed Chenault Mt. Sterling, Kentucky

My dear Mr. and Mrs. Chenault, I have just received your very kind and thoughtful letter, together with the newspaper enclosure concerning the Tipton family in Montgomery County, Kentucky. You are a most considerate couple. On behalf of my sister, Mrs. Margaret D. Bridges, now about 90 and almost blind and quite deaf, and myself, I thank you. Mrs. Bridges, in the early 1880s, and as a sprightly young Miss, visited her cousin, Amanda Black Tipton and husband Burwell . . .

You possibly might be interested to know that Burwell's daughter Bettie (who married a Lindsay and after marriage lived in Winchester, Ky.), through a combination of ability, aggressiveness, chance and fate, came to be a famous woman nationally. Asbury College (now DePauw University) a staid Methodist school here in Greencastle, opened its doors to women students in 1870--an unheard-of thing. And here came Bettie, bringing along her charming southern ways. Females were frowned- on by the young college men as interlopers and undesirables, and were subjected to some indignities. Bettie et. als. persisted.

Bettie, along with three other young women students, founded the first Greek Letter Sorority in the world, Kappa Alpha Theta. That brought another blast. Today Kappa Alpha Theta is the oldest, largest and wealthiest of the 35 to 50 others that have followed.

Its a.s.sets run into the millions. And Bettie's name is known throughout the civilized world wherever a "Theta," as they call themselves, lives, because all Thetas are required to memorize the names of the founders as a prerequisite to initiation. I know. My five daughters are Thetas.

Another thing about the fabulous Bettie. When it came time to graduate, Bettie and some young man were nip and tuck as to leaders.h.i.+p in scholars.h.i.+p, but Bettie's grades were a shade higher. What to do about Cla.s.s Valedictorian? The College authorities approached the formidable Bettie on behalf of the young man. He was to become a famous Methodist minister and would go out into the world preaching the Gospel. It would add greatly to his prestige to go out as having been Valedictorian of his graduating cla.s.s. As for her, she would probably marry, and by inference, thereby be relegated to the kitchen, nursery--and oblivion.

Our indomitable Bettie . . . told the good, kindly, G.o.d-fearing faculty members that her father had sent her all the way from Mt.

Sterling, Kentucky, to Greencastle for her education and at considerable expense, and with much trepidation and prayerful contemplation. She also told them in no uncertain words that if she were ent.i.tled to be Valedictorian, then she wanted to be Valedictorian, and that was that.

She got it, and the theretofore man-dominated Methodist Asbury got an unexpected social shock to its st.u.r.dy limestone foundations.

Rumor hath it even that one of the old buildings took a decided list to the south and had to be sh.o.r.ed-up. More shoring was to be had as the years pa.s.sed . . . .

Cordially,

FINDING 'THE BEST PLACE TO EAT' ON THE ROAD

March 15, 1953 Mrs. Lacy Stoner Holly Bluff, Mississippi

My dear Mrs. Stoner, A week ago, just about this time, Frank and I were arriving at the Stoner homestead in far-off Holly Bluff--home of pecky cypress at its best, and Frank was getting a second look at his beloved paneling. . . Frank is well-pleased with his lumber purchases, and with the trip generally. But coming up from your home . . . he was like an old mare headed for the barn. . .

We made Cairo, Ill., just before dark. As we started into town, I said, "Let's stop and eat at some good place." Frank said, "All right. I'll look for a good place as we go through." Pretty soon we were out of town. It had been raining off and on, and now it began in rather good earnest. In fact, come to think of it, it rained about all the way.

When we reached Marion, Ill. I said, "There is a time and place for everything. Drive up to that Standard station on the left. I want to ask him the best place in town to eat." He did, and I did. The fellow cited us to "The Hut." Enroute, I said, "Frank, I'll bet three to one The Hut is a dump. Whenever they recommend Huts or Mike's Place or Pat's Place or Joan's and Joe's or any Dinty Moore's, you can just about bet your wad they're dumps." I looked while he parked. It had eight revolving stools. I said, "Let's walk to that filling station yonder. I know this town has a better place. I saw an intelligent first cla.s.s looking trucker just outside and asked him, telling him I hadn't eaten anything except segments of big Hershey bars all day long and I wanted good food and a table to sit at. He directed us "around the Court House following the traffic, then north to the place next-door to the Adam Shoe Store with the big electric shoe hanging out in front--you can't miss it." The place looked rather shoddy but it had three pine booths and nine revolving stools. A trifle desperate, we sat down. A fuzzy fat girl came from behind nowhere with one menu. I asked her for a big tall gla.s.s, two or three cubes of ice and an open bottle of Coca Cola. She said they had no ice. I looked at the menu but it was hard to read on account of the samples of soup thereon. I said to Frank, "Let's go." And we did.

Outside, I met an old codger. . . I asked the old question. He sent us up the street "thataway, the best place in town, anything from soup to nuts." I asked, "Does it have tables?" He said, "Why h.e.l.l, yes--and pepper and salt too." I felt we were on the right track. And indeed, compared with the others it was the "Empire Room" in the Waldorf-Astoria. Quite nice waitress, and I got my tall gla.s.s, etc. . .

Arrived home at 12:45 a.m. A trifle short of 650 miles. Thus endeth our pecky cypress safari. . .

Cordially,

FINANCIAL ADVICE TO A WORLD TRAVELER

March 16, 1953 Mrs. Ruth Ross Herrman 121 Devon Drive Falls Church, Virginia

Dear Ruth: Holy Nellie! You ARE going places, aren't you? I am told that many adventurous persons in New York are already engaging initial pa.s.sage to the moon, so perhaps you should write for a reservation there before all the s.p.a.ce is taken. I thought I had gone hog wild going to South America three years ago with Sugar Foot for the winter, even if we did have direct connection with, and were practically under the constant supervision and tutelage of General Motors, International Harvester, most all the U.S.

Branch Banks down there, and others, but we were 4th rate pikers compared with you.

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Epistles from Pap: Letters from the man known as 'The Will Rogers of Indiana' Part 20 summary

You're reading Epistles from Pap: Letters from the man known as 'The Will Rogers of Indiana'. This manga has been translated by Updating. Author(s): Andrew E. Durham. Already has 857 views.

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