Greetings Chattanooga!
Hamilton Bush, the harried and hurried hound of history is here. Seems these days that hurried is the operative word. A wise old friend once described this time of year as “Hallowthankmas,” and seeing as the days roll past at such a pace between October and December that they all run together, this observation certainly rings true.
Such a circumstance particularly becomes relevant as one continues to age. Now, Old Hamilton may be getting on in years, but he is still young at heart, and nothing is more pleasant to behold than a group of youngsters decked out in costumes of every description, strolling door to door and relieving the older folks in the neighborhood of their best sweets. Of course, those sticky ones are better off with the kiddies anyway since they play havoc with loose fillings and once snug dentures.
Then comes the ritual observance of the biggest parade of the year, put on each Thanksgiving Day by Macy’s in the spirit of goodwill and good merchandising. Marching bands from throughout the land tromp their course down Broadway, and song and dance teams do their darnedest to lip sync the popular tunes from the latest musicals right there in the street. The buxom Betty Boop balloon, in company with Underdog, a green dinosaur, Bullwinkle, and Kermit the Frog, floats down the Great White Way.
At the end of the line comes Jolly Old St. Nicholas himself, officially ushering in the Christmas season. Next thing you know, every store in town is open at 4 a.m., and the words Black Friday actually have a positive connotation. Supposedly, that is the day when every merchant in the nation begins to show a profit and gets his or her business out of the proverbial red ink. Well, for Old Hamilton, who has been known to spend money like it was water, never met a credit card he didn’t like, and managed to live beyond his means for years, the Ghost of Christmas Past will not come to haunt the mailbox in February, 2008. This year, it’s pay as one goes!
Well, as you, dear friends and fellow Chattanoogans, go about your business during the frenzy of this holiday season, remember to pause for a moment and relax – as difficult as it may be. Enjoy the lights, sights, and sounds of your scribe’s favorite time of year. And, oh yes, take a moment to rejoice that you are not among the multitude of the terrestrial host in desperate search of a parking place at the local shopping center.
Dear Hamilton Bush,
My wife and I were recently passing through your fair city, and since both of us are antique aficionados we decided to take a detour and visit the Houston Museum of Decorative Arts. We were astounded at the number of antique pitchers and other items of glassware. Almost as fascinating as the collection itself is the story of the museum’s founder. She sounds like a real character. What do you know about this lady?
Sincerely,
Our Own Antiques Road Show
The lady of whom you speak, Anna Safley Houston, was born in 1876 and came to Chattanooga in 1904. Until her death in 1951, she was well known locally for her love of antiques, particularly glassware and ceramics. Now, dear readers, our subject is, as far as your scribe is concerned, one of the finest examples of the eternal optimist to be found anywhere. By the time she had departed this life, Anna had amassed a collection of antiques that included more than 15,000 glass pitchers. Such an accomplishment conjures up images of Old Hamilton’s own sweet mother and her own formidable stash of peanut butter jars and plastic margarine tubs.
For this writer to go out on a limb and label anyone else as “eccentric” may be considered bold; however, this one seems a risk worth taking. Anna was indeed a town character, earning the well deserved nickname of “Antique Annie” – not to be confused with Hubcap Annie, who came along much later and once operated an automotive related enterprise on the fringe of Red Bank. Seems Antique Annie also enjoyed collecting husbands. Through the years, it has been said, she was married no less than nine times.
Now, back to the optimism angle. Anna was determined to maintain and even enhance her collection regardless of hardship, always seeing the glass as half full. And so it was that during the height of the Great Depression she was forced to make a difficult decision. Times were hard, and Anna was forced to choose whether to maintain her antique store and homestead or to hold onto the collection itself. Houston, one could say, did have a problem.
She decided that a roof over her head was secondary, for the time being, and reportedly constructed a large structure resembling a barn on the outskirts of Chattanooga. This, she accomplished on her own. It was to be her home for the next 15 years. She moved in, set up shop, and refused to sell the prized pieces of her collection even when in dire straits. Not even for food or medical care would she part with any of her finest antiques. Apparently, her husbands may not have been deemed so irreplaceable. However, this editorial observation is pure conjecture.
When she passed away, Anna had amassed the largest collection of its kind in the world. She generously bequeathed it, kit and kaboodle, “in trust” to the people of Chattanooga. Today, the assemblage of glass, ceramics, music boxes, and furniture is valued in the millions and includes pieces bearing such names as Tiffany and Steuben, some of which date back to the 18th and 19th centuries. An estimate of its real worth is a closely guarded secret.
In 1961, the museum opened its doors at 24 Bluff View in a house formerly owned by prominent Chattanoogan E.Y. Chapin, Sr. That building was razed less than a decade later, and the collection was moved to its present location, 201 High Street, at the corner of High and 2nd streets. This Victorian home, constructed around 1900, once was the residence of Fenton A. Gentry, a descendent of the legendary John Sevier, renowned Indian fighter and first governor of the State of Tennessee.
Those interested in reading more about the Houston Museum of Decorative Arts and the life of Anna Safley Houston may find the lady’s 1995 biography, Always Paddle your Own Canoe, an interesting read. One other thought-if your canoe requires more than a single oar, do your best to keep them both in the water.
I was browsing through an old bookstore recently and came across an interesting copy of Time Magazine from the week of March 12, 1951. The face on the cover was that of Tennessee Senator Estes Kefauver, and beneath his likeness was a caption that described him as a “crime fighter.” It is my understanding that the senator had a connection to Chattanooga. What was it?
Regards,
Keeping Kefauver’s Cover
Senator Carey Estes Kefauver graced the cover of Time on at least one other occasion, this time commemorating a victory in the 1956 New Hampshire primary as the magazine reported his run for the Democratic Party’s vice presidential nomination. Kevaufer was depicted wearing his trademark coonskin cap.
Born in Madisonville, Tennessee, on July 26, 1903, Kefauver’s connection to our city was that he established an office in the Chattanooga Bank building and practiced law here prior to running for the U.S. Congress representing Tennessee’s Third District. Incidentally, this is the same seat now occupied by Representative Zach Wamp (R). Kefauver, a graduate of the University of Tennessee and Yale, won election to the House in 1939 and was reelected four times. He was subsequently elected to the U.S. Senate in 1949 and served in that capacity until his death on August 10, 1963.
His election to the Senate was significant in that it effectively ended the domination of Tennessee Democratic Party politics by “Boss” Edward H. Crump, a former Congressman and mayor of Memphis. During the 1948 Senatorial campaign, Crump’s political machine had accused Kefauver of leaning heavily to the left and actually promoting “pinko and communist” ideals. He was, said Crump’s team, utilizing the stealth of a raccoon. In response, Kefauver donned the coonskin cap and told a television audience in Memphis, “I may be a pet coon, but I’m not Boss Crump’s pet coon.” Henceforth, the coonskin cap was his headwear of choice.
Kefauver’s political career was colorful and at times controversial. As alluded to previously, he did become the Democratic Party nominee for Vice President of the United States in 1956, running alongside presidential candidate Adlai Stevenson of Illinois. The tandem was, however, defeated by the Republican ticket of incumbent President Dwight D. Eisenhower and Richard Nixon.
During his tenure in the Senate, Kefauver maintained staunch support for civil rights and sometimes earned the enmity of fellow members of Congress, particularly after he refused to sign the pro-segregation Southern Manifesto in 1956. While it was proclaimed that his support for reelection to the Senate had all but evaporated by 1960, he won the seat convincingly with 65 percent of the vote.
Serving as chairman of the Senate Crime Investigating Committee from 1950-51, the Tennessean gained notoriety and authored a book on the committee’s activities titled Crime In America. He was a champion of anti-trust legislation and for the enactment of consumer protection laws, particularly relating to the food and drug industry. While working for the passage of a piece of legislation, Kefauver suffered a massive heart attack on the Senate floor. He passed away two days later.