history


8
Nov 24

The 1954 Glomerata, part 10

In 1953 and 1954 there were plenty of sports for fans to read about, listen to, and watch. The NFL was conquered by the Detroit Lions, who beat the Cleveland Browns at Briggs Stadium, in Detroit. If you had a TV, you might have tuned in to the DuMont Network to listen to Harry Wismer and the great Red Grange give you the game. It was the Lions second championship in a row.

The Yankees won the World Series in 1953, four games to two over the Brooklyn Dodgers. Also in baseball, the Braves were settling in to their new home in Milwaukee, having left Boston, as the first MLB franchise to relocate in 50 years. The Minneapolis Lakers remained the kings of the hardwood, winning the 1954 NBA Championship Series over the Syracuse Nationals (the future Philadelphia 76ers). It was the Lakers third consecutive championship, their fifth in seven years.

Rocky Marciano was the heavyweight boxing champion, having won the title in 1952. He held it until he retired in 1956, age 32, an undefeated champion. Tony Trabert and Maureen Connolly were the national champions in tennis.

The Detroit Red Wings were Stanley Cup champions. The 1954 NHL finals saw the Red Wings and Montreal Canadians meet in the finals for the second time in the 1950s. Defending champions Montreal blew a 3-1 series, and Detroit won their second Stanley Cup in four years and sixth overall.

In Europe, Fausto Coppi, on his way to becoming a legend, was the winner of the Giro d’Italia. The great Louison Bobet won the Tour de France.

There was a lot to see on campus, too.

So let’s look at some sports photos!

This is the 10th installment of our glance through the Glomerata. (Find ’em all — Part one, part two, part three, part four, part five, part six, part seven, part eight and part nine.) All of them will wind up in the Glomerata section (eventually). You can see others, here. Or maybe you’d like to click through to see all the covers. I wouldn’t blame you. They’re quite handsome. The university hosts their collection here.

We remember, at considerable length, the 1953 football team last week. So we’ve met all three of these men, but I include this photo just because of these amazing Senior Bowl uniforms.

Ed Baker, left, became a highly successful high school and semi-pro football coach, and ran a school for two decades. Vince Dooley, center, became a Hall of Fame coach at Georgia, where he won six SEC championships and one national championship. All Bobby Duke did was letter for three years at Auburn, coached high school football, joined the Air Force, retired as the director of fraud investigations, then almost two more decades as a paper company executive. All of these men lived long, successful lives, raising families and probably never forgetting those incredible jerseys.

Here are two quick shots from the same football game. Auburn hosting Georgia. And you can’t see this view from the field anymore. That’s Samford Hall peering out from over the trees in the background. If you were standing on the sideline today where this photographer was, the background would be a wall of fans.

That’s Bobby “Goose” Freeman, #24, running with the ball. He’d play for three different clubs in the NFL, as a defensive back, then coached at Auburn for a decade, and raised a huge family.

Same game, this is Duke collecting a pass from Dooley.

Auburn won that game, 16-7. Auburn led the series 16-12-2 after this game. The series is just as close today (43-39-2, Auburn.)

The Glom says this game had the largest crowd ever in attendance, 25,500 people. The stadium capacity today is 88,043.

Here’s the head man, and the famous pose. Ralph “Shug” Jordan. This was his third year at the helm, and on the foundation of this team they were building a championship and a powerful program. He won his first of four SEC Coach of the Year award for the 1953 season. In 1957 he’d win a national championship. Pretty impressive considering the ’53 team made the school’s first major bowl. (They don’t count the 1937 Bacardi Bowl for some reason.) This team went 7-3-1, and in his long career, which ended in 1975, Jordan went finished with a record of 176–83–6 in football, including a Heisman Trophy winner in the great Pat Sullivan, and all of that overshadows his respectable basketball coaching career, where he amassed a 136–103 record.

One of the O.G. members of the good ol’ boy network, Jordan served on the university’s board of trustees, in retirement. He helped expand the seating capacity of the stadium with his name on it to seat 72,000. He died of leukemia in 1980. Six of his former football players were his pallbearers.

Posthumously inducted into the National Football Foundation Hall of Fame in 1982, he is remembered as a coach today, but he was also a father of three, and a World War II veteran. Ralph Jordan saw action in North Africa and Sicily before being wounded in the shoulder and arm in Normandy as a part of the D-Day invasion. After recovering from his wounds, he was shipped to the Pacific theater, serving at Okinawa.

Leah Rawls Atkins, who we met a few weeks ago, wrote a nice piece on Jordan, the man who coached her boyfriend, and then hired her husband, in 2016.

Auburn basketball was 16-8 in the 1953 season. Here, they’re playing Kentucky. It’s a fine photo, but it was a bad game. The Tigers lost 79-109 in Montgomery. And no matter where the games were played back then, they all had these cool compositions, those old flashbulbs making it look like they were playing in the dark.

At the time Auburn was a middling basketball team, but Kentucky was already a basketball blue blood, having collected three national championships since 1948.

Here’s the wrestling team. The guy on the far right of the back row is Swede Umbach. He coached high school sports in Oklahoma, joined the staff at Auburn and then, from 1946 until the early 1970s, he was the head man of the wrestling team, producing 25 Southeastern Intercollegiate Wrestling Association championship teams and winning four SEC tournaments. He was 249-28-5 in dual meets, coaching 127 conference champions and four national champions and had Auburn hosting hosting the 1971 NCAA Wrestling Championship. He was inducted into the National Wrestling Hall of Fame in 1981 and the Alabama Sports Hall of Fame in 1991.

In the 1953 season one of his wrestlers, Dan McNair, one of the great southern wrestlers (in a time when you didn’t have a lot of those) had a legendary run. He’d started wrestling in his junior year of high school and didn’t win a match. He was a “skinny 185-pounder” when he got to college, but grew into a 6’2″ 210-pound heavyweight who was undefeated his junior and senior year. He out-wrestled a defending heavyweight champ at the 1953 NCAA finals.

They canceled the wrestling program in the early 1980s.

Yes, the students dressed well up for football games. Yes, they still do.

Helen Langley, in the center, met her husband when she was in school. They were married for 68 years, until her death in 2021. For 35 years, she ran a 2-year-old Sunday school class.

Sylvia Couey is the woman on the right. Born in Colorado, raised in Connecticut, she graduated from high school in Alabama, studied art and English and then spent more than three decades working at the Huntsville Senior Center. She died in 2010.

Here’s the track and field team, and those simple, clean uniforms.

On the back row, left, is athletic director James Beard. The old coliseum is named after him. Honestly, one of the reasons that building is still standing is because his name is above the door, but the university is once again pondering it’s future. On the far right is the legendary coach Wilbur Hutsell. The track is named after him today. In 1921, he was hired as the first track & field coach and retired from the job in 1963. He amassed a 140-25 dual meet record and won three SEC team titles, coached four Olympians, was a trainer on the 1924 Olympic and an assistant track coach at the 1928 Olympic Games. He served as president of the National Track Coaches Association, the university’s athletic director twice, and is in the Helms Track & Field Hall of Fame, the Alabama Sports Hall of Fame and the USA Track & Field Hall of Fame.

And, finally, here’s the tennis team. If you’ll have noticed in most of the photos above, shots most assuredly submitted to the yearbook from the athletic department, most of these games seemed very serious. But the tennis team, in their t-shirt uniforms, they seem like a jolly lot.

All of these will wind up in the Glomerata section (eventually). You can see others, here. Or maybe you’d like to click through to see all the covers. The university hosts their collection here.


6
Nov 24

Incomplete stories on two wheels

It was 80° on Nov. 5th, we have had three-tenths of an inch of rain since the end of August (and all of that in September).

The farmers are merely moving dust around in their fields. Nothing weird at all, here.

That was early in my ride today, and it looks over processed, but it’s an over-processed sort of day, isn’t it? Later in that same ride, when the colors were softer, and the breeze just a tiny bit cooler, and my legs a bit more tired and the sun challenging me to a race …

I’d gone down a road I usually come up, where I was passed by a giant ambulance and, soon after, almost watched a minivan almost drive itself into a head-on collision. I turned right instead of going all the way down that road, cutting across to another road that I went up this afternoon, rather than going down, as I usually do. I crossed a busy intersection and then had one long straight shot with a little breeze at my back. And then I took the longest, most sensible route home.

We won’t have too many more seasonably warm days this fall, best to eek every second out of it if you can. Anyway, that was today’s ride. Let’s talk about what I found on a different ride.

We return once again to We Learn Wednesdays, where the historical markers search continues, because from time-to-time I ride my bicycle around looking for them. This is the 53rd installment, and the 85th marker in the We Learn Wednesdays series. And we’re at the Friends Burial Ground.

We’ll talk about the tree in the next installment. The burial ground dates back almost to the beginning of the white settlement. (A few Dutch had set up nearby, but they got outnumbered pretty quickly.) The English Quakers showed up in 1675, even before William Penn arrived. This was Fenwick’s Colony. A cavalry in Cromwell’s army in England, a Quaker convert and a lawyer, Fenwick advertised this place, “if there be any terrestrial “Canaan” ’tis surely here, where the land floweth with Milk and Honey.”

We learned about Fenwick earlier this year (here and here) and when people back in England learned about his vision, they started pouring in.

It’d take another decade or so for the settlers to build their first meeting house, but the people were firmly rooted. Some of the old names on these markers still have descendants around here. And a lot of the local names are repeated here in the stonework. There are more than 1,000 markers here now sitting behind this low brick walk alongside one of the busy modern downtown streets.

There have been three dozen interments here this century, the most recent in 2020. She was from right nearby, and had worked at Penn State for a quarter of a century. She started as a secretary and eventually became an assistant dean.

Not all of the notable stories are deep in the past.

The next time we return to the marker series, though, we’ll go back to the 17th century one more time, and we’ll learn about that Salem Oak. If you have missed any markers so far, you can find them all right here.


1
Nov 24

The 1954 Glomerata, part nine

Doing something a little different for this week’s installment of the 1954 Glomerata. Usually, of course, I put a few of them here. And they’re seldom ever the posed photos. But we’re just going to look at one photo this week, one that’s worth concentrating on for a few moments. So let’s dive in.

This is the ninth installment of our glance through the Glomerata. (Find ’em all — Part one, part two, part three, part four, part five, part six, part seven and part eight.) All of them will wind up in the Glomerata section (eventually). You can see others, here. Or maybe you’d like to click through to see all the covers. I wouldn’t blame you. They’re quite handsome. The university hosts their collection here.

This is the official portrait of the 1953 football team, coached by Ralph “Shug” Jordan in his third season in the top job at his alma mater. And he had these guys going the right direction. They finished the season 7-2-1, their best season in almost two decades, and an appearance in the Gator Bowl — the school’s second bowl in a row, and just their third bowl game ever.

But the guys on the team, that’s what’s important here.

The guy on the left side of the front row is Fob James. He would become a construction engineer and an entrepreneur, making and selling physical fitness equipment, ballasts and counterweights. He became a politician, a two time governor of Alabama, first as a Democrat from 1979–1983, and then as a Republican from 1995 to 1999. (The times were changing around him, and he changed parties quite a few times in his long career.)

In his first term, the state had financial troubles. (This would somehow be a recurring theme.) He did a bit of education reform, and worked on the state’s mental health system, and overcrowded prisons. He cut state spending by 10 percent, and laid off a bunch of state employees. What money he could put his hands on, he put toward K-12 education over higher education, which was controversial — any choice he made there would be. He also integrated the government, which is a mind-boggling sentence for 1980. He nominated the first Black man for the state Supreme Court. (Justice Oscar William Adams Jr. would serve from 1980 until 1993. I believe there have only been two more Black justices since then.)

In his second term, now in the ascendant Republican party, he governed as a tough-on-crime, staunch conservative. He revived chain gangs and presided over seven executions. He defended Roy Moore and the display of the Confederate flag. He once again bolstered primary education through a series of reforms. But the state was fighting all sorts of revenue problems, and he refused to take federal money. Eventually the state’s board of education went around the governor and took the money anyway.

He gutted higher education. Meanwhile, he also blew $25 million in appealing a federal judge’s ruling in a 15-year appeal that required Alabama to improve two historically black public universities. It was a devastating series of events.

But enough about Fob. Lets look at some of these other guys.

We learned about George Atkins, #78, a few weeks ago. He became a coach, and the second most impressive athlete in his marriage.

Joe Childress, #35, was from a sleepy south Alabama town, was a two-time All American, and made it to the big time, playing for nine seasons in the NFL, a Cardinal from 1956-1965. He was a coach on the Houston Oilers staff for five years, and eventually landed in the securities business. He was diagnosed with cancer, and fought it for several years until he died in 1986, at just 52 years old. The next year he was posthumously inducted into the Alabama Sports Hall of Fame. He and his wife, a hometown girl, had four children. She remarried, and passed away in 2018.

Bobby Freeman, #24, was nicknamed Goose. After his college playing days he was a third-round NFL pick, but that was after he signed a deal with a Canadian Football League team for a two-year deal that paid him about $88,000 in today’s money. When he signed with the Browns, his dueling contracts became a legal issue. He went to training came in Cleveland, not Winnipeg, and they took him to court. He lost the court case, which became historically important, and it kept him out of football for two years, then the former QB became a defensive back in Cleveland, Washington, Green Bay and Philadelphia. He coached at his alma mater (some people do get to go home again) for 10 years. Freeman died in 2002, survived by his wife and five children. Before she passed away in 2022 she counted 23 grandchildren and 29 great-grandchildren in the family they created.

Chuck Maxime is the guy on the far left of the second row, #77. He played college ball for four years, including on the championship team. He was down from North Dakota, and I’ve no idea how that happened. When he hung up the pads he became a teacher and coach in Mobile, staying on with the Murphy Panthers for his while 34 year career. He and his wife and four sons, nine grandchildren and three great-grandchildren. When he retired, he just followed his grandchildren, which sounds like a life fulfilled. They give out a memorial award to local coaches in his name, and that ain’t nothing. He died in 2011, at 80.

Frank D’Agostino, #67, was an All American tackle. He played with the Philadelphia Eagles, his hometown team, in 1956. He was with the New York Titans in 1960. He died, in Florida, in 1997.

Ted Neura, #61, joined the Air Force, and became a captain. He was killed in a plane crash in the Mekong Delta area of Vietnam about a decade after this photo was taken. He was just two months or so from coming back home to his wife. They buried him in Alabama with full honors, and he had been the Distinguished Flying Cross, Purple Heart, Bronze Star for Valor and the Air Medal with three oak leaf clusters. He was just 31, but had a son and daughter, and nine siblings, including a teammate in that photo.

Johnny Adams, #47 lettered for three years. It looks like he lived a nice quiet life, with a full family, until he passed in 2015. They still write about his days on the high school gridiron on local Facebook pages. What high school players get remembered 80 years on? Folk heroes, that’s who.

Joe Neura, #83, was Ted’s brother. While Ted died young and his buried in Alabama, Joe passed away at 59, having returned to his native Ohio.

Jimmy Long, #55, was, the year after this photo, a team captain. After school, briefly served in the Air Force, mustering out as a captain. He would become an engineer at Alabama Power for more than three decades. He spent 15 years calling high school football, was a deacon and led Sunday School classes for 40 years. He and his wife of 50 years raised three daughters, and they gave the Longs five grandchildren. He passed away in 2006.

Quarterback Vince Dooley is on the third row, #25. Playing for Shug Jordan wasn’t challenging enough, so he became a Marine. When his time in the Corps was done, he coached at Auburn for about eight years, first as the QB coach, and then as head coach of the freshman team. And then Georgia called, and the boy from Mobile became a legend in Athens, where he coached for 25 years, winning a national championship, six conference championships and retiring as the second-winningest coach in SEC history. He flirted with political campaigns, but ultimately stayed on as the athletic director until 2004. He wrote a handful of books, served on the board of the Georgia Historical Society. He’s in the Georgia Sports Hall of Fame in 1978, the Alabama Sports Hall of Fame in 1984, the College Football Hall of Fame in 1994 and the Marine Corps Sports Hall of Fame. His name is on the football field at Georgia. Vince Dooley’s goodness and awesome character is just about the only thing Auburn and Georgia fans can agree on these days. Somehow, they share him. He and his wife had four children. He passed away in 2022, at 90.

Jack Locklear, #89, was one of the best centers of all time. They called him Black Jack, because he knocked out a lot of opponents. He was drafted by the Cleveland Browns, spent eight years in the NFL, then went back home to Alabama and coached high school football, baseball and track. He won a state championship in track. He served on the local Board of Education and helped build a high school. He ran a bunch of restaurants in northeast Alabama over the years. He and his wife had a son and two daughters. He died, at 80, in 2012.

Bobby Duke wears the number 45 here. He was a three-year letterman, briefly became a high school coach and athletic director, and then took an Air Force commission, serving in the criminal counterintelligence and fraud investigations unit. He retired 22 years later as the director of fraud investigations for the USAF. Then he served for 18 or so years as an executive of a paper company in south Alabama. He and his wife of 51 years had four daughters, seven grandchildren and two great-grandchildren when he passed away at 75, in 2007.

Ed Baker, #81, Baker, was another Mobile boy. He followed his bachelor’s degree with a master’s at Southeastern Louisiana University. Eventually he became a head football coach at five different high schools in Alabama and Florida, and then a ran a semi-pro team. After all of that he still had the energy to run a vocational technical school for 21 years. He had three children and seven grandchildren. He was 80 when he died in 2011.

Ordwell Warren, #54, played end for Auburn. He served in the Army after school, moved to Florida in 1971 and sat on a local school board there for 22 years. He and his wife had two sons and two daughters, 11 grandchildren and eight great-grandkids.

Jim Lofton, #56, was Vince Dooley’s roommate. For decades people told the story that Lofton didn’t know who Dooley was. But they told the story because the two men remained lifelong friends. Lofton joined the Army right after high school, a peacetime paratrooper. Playing on a base football team, he began to get noticed by college coaches. He became a storied Georgia high school coach for almost 50 years, and a multi-time high school coach of the year. His day job was as an English teacher. His wife and his whole family called him Coach. He won 250-plus games, a state championship, and Dooley wrote the foreword to his first book. Lofton was the kind of guy who was the quiet center of the places he worked and lived, maybe he was the Disney movie waiting to happen. Everyone turned to him for mentorship, a shoulder, a small loan. He and his wife were married for 62 years. He died at 85, with five sons, 24 grandchildren and a huge family besides. He was 85 when he died on New Year’s Day, 2015.

Jim Pybrun, #50 on the top row, played football here, but baseball was his better sport. He was drafted by Washington, but he eschewed the NFL and signed with the Baltimore Orioles. He was remembered as one of the school’s best two-sport athletes — Pyburn, Frank Thomas, Bo Jackson head that impressive list — and perhaps the player of the decade, which is impressive considering they won a national championship in 1957. He played three years as a third baseman and outfielder, got sent to the minors in 1957, hung up his spikes in 1958. A few years later he worked for his old pal Vince Dooley, coaching defensive line, linebackers and defensive backfield over a 16-year run at Georgia. He was inducted into the Alabama Sports Hall of Fame and died at 78, survived by his wife, two sons and three grandchildren.

David Middleton, #21, was another multi-sport star, lettering in football, track and basketball. On the football team, he was an end, a wide receiver and a halfback. (Imagine one guy playing all three of those positions today.) He was also an SEC champion in the 100 meter dash. He ran a hand-timed 9.6! He met his wife on the plains, and then played football for the Detroit Lions. Over a seven year career he led his team in receptions three times, won an NFL championship and caught a touchdown in a 59-14 blowout of the 1957 NFL Championship Game. While he was playing football he was also somehow going to medical school. He worked as an OB/GYN in Michigan. On Christmas Eve in 2007 he fell, and died a few days later from his injuries. He and his wife had three children and three grandchildren.

Next to him is Millard Howell Tubbs, #20. He was a star in high school and in college, where he was a quarterback and a center fielder on the baseball team. And this is why all of this is important. This is the first sentence of the second paragraph of the man’s obituary, “Bubba is best remembered for ending the long losing streak to Georgia Tech and never losing to Alabama in either sport.” He went to work at Air Engineers, Chevrolet and then worked at General Motors for 36 years. His wife, two children and a grandchild when he died in North Carolina in 2014.

M.L. Brackett, #60, played for three years in the NFL with the Bears and the Giants. He was Shug Jordan’s first ever recruit at Auburn, played four years there, after a high school career under a coaching legend. He played in that first sudden death overtime NFL Championship Game in 1958, which featured Vince Lombardi and Tom Landry as the coordinators. His obituary is full of little tidbits like that, along with plenty of dropped names. He was an umpire for 30 years, worked at a steel firm for 22 years, and was married for 57 years. They had three children and two grandchildren when he passed away at 81 in 2015.

Don Rogers, #64, was a bookend on the offensive line, opposite his brother, George Rogers. After football and graduation, Don fulfilled his ROTC obligations with the Air Force. He left the service as a captain, became a drug rep and later started a home building company with his brother. They built hundreds of homes around Birmingham. He reffed high school football for years. He and his wife spent almost 65 years together, raising a big family of three kids, seven grandchildren and 11 great-grandkids. He died just last year, aged 91.

And that’s his brother, George, #62, on the right side of the back row. They have remarkably similar life stories. Where Don married a hometown sweetheart, George married a college sweetheart. That might be the biggest difference between the two. George is remembered as a state champion in football, a track star, he was drafted by the Green Bay Packers, but went into the Air Force and reserves. He, too, went into pharmaceutical sales, and for the same companies as his older brother. Then they had that construction company. George also took on some other work, but he also called high school football games like his brother. He was incredibly active in his church. He and his wife were married for almost 56 years when he died, she, his four children and seven grandchildren survived him in 2011.

So that’s a governor, a hall of fame coach, a bunch of service men and a handful of professional athletes, and future community leaders, and I only looked up half of that team. But what a team! What a collection of young men.

And also Fob James.

All of these will wind up in the Glomerata section (eventually). You can see others, here. Or maybe you’d like to click through to see all the covers. The university hosts their collection here.


25
Oct 24

The 1954 Glomerata, part eight

Marilyn Monroe married Joe DiMaggio in January. The first nuclear-powered sub, the USS Nautilus, put to sea the next week. President Eisenhower warned against American intervention in some little place no one had ever heard of, Vietnam, he called it. He’d already presided over $785 million dollars in military aid headed that way. The first polio vaccines were distributed, in Pittsburgh. We tested a hydrogen bomb. Joseph McCarthy began his hearings on the Army and communism. The first Boeing 707 was released, and it wasn’t the only thing taking to the air. National Educational Television, renamed PBS, was introduced in May. The very next day Brown v. Board of Education was handed down by the Supreme Court. Those were some of the headlines that filtered through in 1954, and this was how college students were living during that time.

This is the eighth installment of our glance through the 1954 Glomerata. (Find ’em all — Part one, part two, part three, part four, part five, part six and part seven.) All of them will wind up in the Glomerata section (eventually). You can see others, here. Or maybe you’d like to click through to see all the covers. I wouldn’t blame you. They’re quite handsome. The university hosts their collection here.

I spend hours on these posts, even if it doesn’t look like it. Sometimes these photos and the young faces lead us to great stories, the sort that I am sure to bore friends with. Honestly, I go through these old yearbooks of my alma mater do these because I am interested in these little candid photos. These aren’t the best, being 1954 snapshots and transfers I’ve hastily digitized, but they are the best.

Big laughs before a night on the town. I wonder where they went, if I would have known the place(s) decades later. I wonder if it was a night they looked back on fondly later.

It feels perfectly spontaneous and authentic, that photo. It, and the rest of these sit around the Greek organization’s headshots. And almost all of the rest of them seem to be experimenting with this new concept of arranging people in semi-normal, casual positions, and having them all look up.

The guys dressed up a lot, it seems like. This is the Old South parade, which was stupid then, and remained stupid until the fraternity that ran it finally canceled the stupid thing in 1993.

I’m not sure what these guys were about. Maybe it was a French-themed party, or a play. I wonder where they bought baguettes back then.

Surely they didn’t have to go all the way to the beach for fancy bread. But this bunch went to the beach. Panama City, I think. Perhaps they were skipping class. Anyway, this, kids, is what people did with their photos before Instagram and VSCO. I had to crop it almost as severely as those formats too, oddly enough.

They sure did like their parades, though they didn’t seem to find taking good photographs of them to be too important. This is from the Pajama Parade befor the Georgia Tech game. You can tell because of the pajamas.

The downside of these candid photos is you aren’t always privy to the context of what’s going on. Here’s some sort of pie eating contest, I suppose.

This image doesn’t do the original view justice, I’m sure. Blame me. I’ll have to come back through and try to get a better capture of this image, which is a homecoming float. A group built this steamship, and even from the small photo, it’s obvious a lot of care went into the thing.

One of the things that you begin to notice in these photos is how crowded they can fill. The campus was small, but growing, but not nearly fast enough to meet the needs from this ROTC generation. This looks like some sort of semi-formal dinner, but all these people look packed in. Again, the captions are making some very short pun, and give us no details.

And, to wrap this up, I direct your attention to the fellow on the right.

What is he wearing? What is he wearing in 1954? And why is no one staring at him for it?

All of these will wind up in the Glomerata section (eventually). You can see others, here. Or maybe you’d like to click through to see all the covers. The university hosts their collection here.


23
Oct 24

Have I found a character for you today

You’re going to want to stick with this. I made an error, caught the error, corrected the error, and the story below got immensely better because of it.

Spent the morning grading at home — because it is another week with plenty of things to grade, and that’s what I did yesterday, what I’m doing today and what I’ll do tomorrow. This week we’re reading a critical analysis from a Dutch scholar.

But we spent the afternoon on campus. Sandwich lunch in the office. I read student assignments in the office. There was a marketing meeting. From the office of The More Things Change, someone explained SEO and we discussed WordPress. We had a nice time.

So after a lovely afternoon with colleagues, my lovely bride and I went over to the big kids’ pool. It was my first swim in four weeks.

And it felt surprisingly decent. Good, even, in places. And before I knew it, I was in that weird vacant groove and the lengths and laps just started disappearing. And then, suddenly (OK, slowly) I had an easy 2,000-yard workout under my belt.

Did not see the comet on the drive home. Mostly, we were busy chatting about class strategies and research. And now, after dinner, I’ll have to get back to grading.

But first!

We return once again to We Learn Wednesdays. The point is, riding my bike around the county, tracking down historical markers, sharing them here and trying to add a bit more context that what the signs offer us. This is the 51st installment, and the 83rd marker in the We Learn Wednesdays series.

And this time we’re going to Thomas Sinnickson’s house.

Thomas Sinnickson was born in 1797, and he blends right in with a large family, one that uses the same names over and over. Lots of Thomas Sinnicksons. Lots of Andrew Sinnicksons. Some of his elders had been in the state militia and in the Continental Army. There are two of his ancestors who served in both the state and U.S. legislature. A later Sinnickson went to Congress as well.

But those people aren’t the Thomas who built this house.

Our guy is maybe the third most famous Thomas in his family, which is to say, he’s not. His was a family that dates back to the original Swedish settlers. I spent a fair amount of time trying to trace my way through the Sinnicksons, deleting about five paragraphs of summary when I found I’d made a big generational error. But now we have it right. And it’s even more entertaining.

Thomas died at just 45, in 1842. Searches don’t tell me much about him, in part, perhaps, because of the other Thomas Sinnicksons that preceded. But we do know this. He and Clarissa had five daughters and three sons. The youngest died at just 21, in an asylum. One of the sons was a poet. One daughter moved across the country, to Oregon. (By way of sail, around Cape Horn, a six-month journey.) And in that woman there is a tale.

There’s a bit more about her, here, in the far right column. I would watch the movie about that woman’s life.

The rest of the family stayed much closer to home. Two of Thomas and Clarissa’s children made it into their 80s. All told, four of them lived into the 20th century. And this is where they grew up, surely steeped in their family’s history, and definitely in the midst of their community’s history, as we’ll see in the coming weeks.

The building was sold last year. From what I can tell, it’s been used as converted office space for quite some time.

Speaking of poets, the next time we return to the marker series we’ll learn a bit about a former slave turned poet. If you have missed any markers so far, you can find them all right here.