University of Virginia - Corks and Curls Yearbook (Charlottesville, VA)

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stood up and salaamed everyone in attendance. The revelers most likely would have remained in this stooped position until sunrise had it not been for a daring member of the society. This member slipped out and awoke a Judge who out- ranked iReddie, Echols. The Judge and the escapee sped to the gym whereupon the former freed the relieved guests from their spell and proceeded to salaam iReddiei for the remainder of the evening? At the end of this story, Rhett Cleghorne took advantage of the silence to begin his own. iiMaybe you all are a little tired of hearing me mention my grandfather, Rhett Cleghorne, the First, who lived in the Mudway Swamp in lower South Carolina. Anyway, he was a law student here in the 1890,s and was really fond of the old janitor and bell ringer at the University, iUncle Henry, Martin. In fact, he talked about Uncle Henry whenever the University was mentioned. When Uncle Henry died in 1910, the whole University turned out to attend his funeral - he was sort of a living legend then, since he had served since the 1830s at the Uni- versity. Uncle Henry was born a slave to Jefferson and was acquired by the Carr family in Charlottesville, while still a baby, when the Jefferson estate was sold in 18283, Richard Gotts loudly commented that the story sounded like an old wives, tale. This brought on a five minute argument. Cleghorne finally got under way again after mentioning some Jefferson family manuscripts in the library which were supposed to verify the sale of Uncle Henry. iiActuallyf resumed Cleghorne, Tithe Carr family used Uncle Henry to wait on the students who boarded 0n Carr,s Hill, and hired him out to cut and carry wood to the students on the West Range. During The War, when the enrollment at the University fell from about six hundred students to fifty, the Carrs couldn,t use him here so they hired him out to a merchant in Richmond. He was really miserable when he was sent away from the University and according to legend, he escaped in the guise of a Confederate uniform and walked back to Charlottes- Ville during the middle of the War. The Carrs then hired him to the Confederate hospital director here in Charlottesville. After The War he continued to work for the University from 1866 to 1910 and missed only two days in ringing the bell for classes during this whole time. The students used to remove the clapper so often from the bell in the 1880,s that old Uncle Henry had to keep a spare one con- stantly hidden in the Rotunda basement. , nUncle Henry was always ready to apprise any and all Visitors disposed to en- gage him in conversation that he was a direct descendent of Mr. Thomas Jefferson, and how it came about, and his story bore an altogether clear and con- vincing ring. Visitors used to like to inquire of him the names and locations of various buildings about the Grounds. A common inquiry related to the location of the rooms occupied by Mr. Poe and Mr. Woodrow Wilson. Uncle Henry was proud to relate that he remembered Mr. Wilson very well and could testify to one and all what a line gentleman he knew him to be. He admitted however, that Mr. Poe was a little before his time but he had idone heerdl a right smarti amount about how Mr. Poe had a weakness for strong drink. In a whisper he confided that some folks had said Mr. Poe sometimes got downright drunk, but he suspected those stories were exaggerated ilak people do, iiAnother Character of a later era, Alonzo Barbour, also enjoyed answering the many questions Visitors had. One Visitor posed the question: iWhat is that round building right up there? Alonzo would reply in subdued reverence, idat is de Rotunda, Then the question: iWhat is its purpose? iHits purposeli exclaimed Alonzo iwell Mr. Jefferson done built it, and it cotched fire in 1895 and burnt up, it were awful, I member it well, and dey built it back, but not zactly lak it was 1m 1101'

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that were planned. iiThe students were packed in the doorways of East Lawn to watch the group come up from the train station to Holmes, pavillion. When they turned from the driveway and came up the walk from East Range to the Lawn everyone was deadly silent. Miss Emerson it turned out, was about forty years old, as thin as a rail - a typical New England old maid, with no make up and dressed in black. iiThe men who had dates with her offered to pay for others to take their places as escorts for Miss Ellen to the parties, but no one would give in. Anyway, the fifteen gentlemen kept to their word, and escorted the flower of Massachusetts all over Charlottesville during their weeks, stay. iMiss Ellen, became a legend on the Grounds, and for the following thirty years everyone knew what kind of date you had if she was referred to as a iMiss Ellenf Grant Savers, with a mischievous twinkle in his eye, declared that if H.T.,s dates were true to form he would certainly have a date with a iiMiss Elleni, this week end. iiWellf, said H.T. defensively, as he took another sip to build up his confidence, iiif we donit have good dates around here, at least we can drink and talk of old times, and these, of course, are the two most interesting pastimes of Virginia alumni. iiDuring the last vacation, an old out of town friend of my fathers, also an alum- nus of Virginia, came over to dinner. After a couple of cocktails my father and his guest began to talk about various incidents that happened when they were at the University. My mother, when the subject turned to Virginia, moaned that the only thing people who went to Virginia talked about is iHow much they drank yesterday, how much they drank today, and how much they will drink tomor- rowf But as it turned out this was not the case, or maybe it was kept that way for the sake of my mother or perhaps my little sister, who is at the very im- pressionable age of thirteen. Anyway, there were two incidents brought up that considerably amused me. iiThe first happened just before the end of 1939, when, it seems, a Dean Armis- tead Dobie was appointed a Federal District Judge by President Roosevelt. Some of Dobieis colleagues and friends, to commemorate this honor, solicited funds to have his portrait painted. The task of selecting the painter was given to Professor Gerrad Glenn, who, upon asking one artist what the portrait would cost and hav- ing received the price of $1500, grunted iMy God, you can stuff him for $500., liThis story, in turn, reminded our guest of another incident that was somewhat of the same likeness, that is, of portraits. It also occurred in the 305 but a year or so before my father lirst attended the University. It so happened that an artist named Stone came to Virginia and painted the portraits of Admiral Richard Byrd and his brother Senator Harry Byrd, The portraits were unveiled with much cere- mony in Madison Hall before an eager audience. However, both portraits were very poorly done. A certain Professor Carrall Sparrow, noted around the Uni- versity for his wit, instantly exclaimed, iiThat is what I call killing two Byrds with one Stonef, iiWell, H.T.,i, said Grant, ilif you want stories about characters at the University, you might listen to this one about iReddie, Echols. iiHe was one of the best Math professors in the country in addition to being the oldest Eli Banana at the University. At this time the Elfs had a practice known as salaaming, whereby a higher ranking member of the society could cause a low- er ranking member to bow in reverence for an indehnite period of time. One Easters weekend at the dance sponsored by his society, a well-seasoned iReddie,

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H3 : -, x l wa mewwm befof But the Visitor continued to press Alonzo for a more definite answer as to the purpose it served, in reaction to which Alonzo leaned away forward on his Moses-like, long staff and gazed off into inhnity to his left, then slowly turned and in a like manner gazed to his right in profound thought. Then, nonplused as to what the hell purpose the building did serve, with eyes bleared more by the toll of years than by the bell he rang, he looked up wistfully into the face of his per- sistently inquisitive Visitor and, in a voice meeker than that of Moses, said simply: iWell, we just uses it as a Rotunda, ,i Gotts declared that although he had only seen half of a year, there didnit seem to be as many characters around as there once reputedly had been. Gotts then be- gan to talk about that noted professor of Bumology, Tim Murphy. tiThat bearded old burn, a veteran of several navies and the Spanish-American War, took his chair, or better, his lwalll on the high railroad wall that extends by the steam plant and behind the Corner. From that perch he could successfully elude pursuing cops and watch for itouchesf After spotting such a kindly person, Tim would leap from the wall and shout ishoot-me-out: begging not for a bullet, but for a cigarette. His antics soon became well-known, yet because of his homey philosophy, exciting sea stories, and exotic South Sea girls, Tim was never without Cigarettes or money. Figures on his weekly income were never known, but some say that it never fell below twenty dollars a day. Moreover, his clothes were al- ways the Finest. Tweed coats and grey flannels that had seen duty on Madison Lane came his way from time to time to keep him clothed in the Virginia man- ner. iiOften Tim was chased by the watchful local authorities from his perch on the railroad wall, through the grounds, and finally into the sanctuary of Tim,s second perch, Fayerweather Hall. It was in F ayerweather Hall where Timis ihorrible trage- dyi entered his life. Caught by a group of students he was hauled protestingly from his slumber, scrubbed and washed, and suited in clean clothes. Never felt so bad in my whole life; the old salt protested. ttTim was always a welcome iigure at University functions. There was the time during Easter Week when Tim posed as an alumnus to the guests at a certain fra- ternity house. It is further rumored that the ldainties, served at the Presidents re- ceptions were not unattractive to Tim and that he was often the uninvited, but welcome, guest. His last colorful appearance was at the Carolina pep rally in ,42 when he threw a flaming tar baby from the second floor of the old Cavalier to get the procession underway and headed the parade as it wound through the Lane and down Whiskey Alley. iiBut old Tim caught pneumonia while sleeping on the wall perch in late July of 1943, and died a week later. His funeral, in the University cemetery, was a quiet one, but a few interested faculty members and students, who gratefully remem- bered Timis antics, saw his last remains laid away and erected a headstone on the spot. Still standing, the stone recalls Tim and the University,s lost department: Tim Murphy 1870-1943 Professor of Bumology University of Virginia Vanderslice, spurred on by the stories of the others, decided that he would tell another, if only so that his narrative technique would not get rusty, or so he told himself. iiThere was a character commonly known as iCharlief but whether he was a very light-colored colored man or a very unwashed white man remained a mystery to