A 1960's Playlist for Lannea

 

1934 - 1937 - Forrest Neil Case's Story - Madison High School

Hobby: Arguing.
Ambition: To be a professor of Chemistry.

By 1934, apparently no longer trapped by the glaciers engulfing old Woodville school, Neil Case now found himself in Madison High School where he was the Secretary-Treasurer of his class as well as the Manager of the football team. In 1935 he was once again Manager of the football team but had made greater strides in politics. He was now the President of the Sophomore Class.

The cast of "Everybody's Crazy"
Forrest Neil Case is front row, center.
Kathryn Johnson is standing
behind Neil's left shoulder

 By 1936 his involvement in extracurricular activities had increased as well. Not only was he still Manager of the football team, but he had also joined the Literary Society and surprisingly, appeared in the cast of "Everybody's Crazy", a three-act play presented by the Junior Class, where he played the role of "Herb Stanley, joint owner of the Treasure Trove Tavern". I say surprisingly because in my experience I would never have guessed that he would have ever willingly acted in any play. But perhaps his participation was not altogether his idea. Also appearing in the play as "Ketura Katt, an old maid who dabbles in spiritualism" was Kathryn Johnson, who he would marry in 1941. She may have played a role in convincing him to join the cast.

1936 Madison High School Science Club

I'm not sure when my father's interest in chemistry began, but it was clearly well underway by 1936. Not surprisingly, he was a member of the Science Club, a new club that had only been formed the year before. The club description beneath the yearbook photo of its members states "The purpose of this club is to promote a greater interest in, and a better understanding of the principles of science as they apply to our everyday lives."

Young Mr. Case took the club's purpose to heart for then, as well as throughout the rest of his life, he was definitely an "applied" chemist and not a theorist. For example, he and his brothers eagerly picked the apples from the trees in the family orchard for making "cider" in the cellar. Their mother was an absolute teetotaler who in her youth had warned young men seeking to court her that "lips that taste wine shall never taste mine". The boys assured their mother that the cider they were making was of the non-alcoholic variety. In fact, they always set aside a portion of the juice for surreptitiously distilling into "the real thing".

Federal Enlarger
circa the 1940s

Another application he found for his growing knowledge of chemistry was photography. He set up a darkroom in a corner of the cellar where he processed negatives and made prints. He carried that interest with him to Oak Ridge, at least in his early years, before abandoning it in favor of his greater love, making money, which would eventually consume all of his attention. However, he did manage to teach me how to develop film and make prints with an old Federal Enlarger in a makeshift darkroom in the bathroom of our tiny block home in Woodland. For me watching a print emerge from a blank sheet of paper soaking in a tray of developer, was nothing short of magic. I was hooked on photography immediately and sixty years later I still am. It was the best gift he ever gave me. As far as I can tell his interest in photography was a solitary pursuit. I don't believe he was ever a member of the Carbide Camera Club or shared his photography with anyone outside of his immediate family.

1937 Madison High Science Club

By 1937 some of the personality traits that Neil Case would carry through the rest of his life were now emerging as revealed by the 1937 Madison High School yearbook "The Madisonian". Perusing its pages we learn that he was now Business Manager of the annual staff, Assistant Art Editor of the school newspaper,  President of the Science Club, Manager of the football team (yet again), and once more appeared in a play, the Senior Class production of "You Can't Beat the Irish". In the comedy, he played the role of "Armand Ravel" (from France), and in which Kay Johnson plays the role of "Peggy Malone" (a young woman who yearns for culture) and has a romantic involvement with "Armand" who, (bastard that he is), is only interested in "Peggy" for selfish reasons. Reading through Kay's 1946 Complaint for Divorce from Neil one gets the impression that the play may have been the perfect example of art imitating life.

NEIL CASE
"Physically fit and mentally able."

His senior photo in the yearbook states his ambition in life: "To be a professor of Chemistry." His hobby is stated simply as "Arguing" and not, interestingly (and quite accurately), as "debating."Debates are formal. Arguments are not necessarily formal, although they can be. But "argument" is often synonymous with "row, tiff, bickering" etc., whereas "debate" is not. Neil Case's hobby was definitely arguing, not debating, and it remained so throughout his life.

Back: F. N. Case

Next: Ashland College

Letter to Cousin Martha - Part One "Granny Osborn's Reading List"

W. David Case

7914 Gleason Dr., Unit 1097

Knoxville, TN 37919

12/17/2018

Greetings Cousin Martha,

I hope these Holidays are finding you, ..., and all your loved ones happy and healthy. I am enclosing a letter from Nancy Romans Osborn to my mother dated Jan 3, 1961. I thought you might like to have a copy because in it she briefly mentions your parents, you, Tommy, and other family members. The baby referred to would be Carl Osborn, son of Ellis Osborn and Elizabeth Peden Osborn. The last time I saw Carl he was very young and still very red-headed. Just like Columbus Allen was I suppose, although I have no memory of him.

I am enclosing copies of the letter and the newspaper article Nancy refers to in the letter. I am also enclosing a typed version that is easier to read. In the typed version I did not edit the original letter, just printed it as it was, spelling mistakes and all. I love it just the way it is. I found the part about the moonshine stills in Aunt Agatha's house both amusing and enlightening. Here's why:

"Granny", as I called Nancy Osborn when I was a boy, always impressed me. Mom respected her a lot, as did Ellis, Elizabeth, and the children in their household. So naturally, I respected her too. I was even maybe a wee bit scared of her. She moved slowly and didn't say much to me but when she did she was kind and even laughed, which helped set me at ease. She admonished me to read two books in life if I read no others. They were the Holy Bible, which she presented me a copy of, and another book that she explained would help me better understand Alabama and its people. That book was "Stars Fell on Alabama" by Carl Carmer. I promised her I would read the Bible during the coming year and if I could find a copy of  Mr. Carmer's book I would read it too.

As soon as we returned home to Oak Ridge I set about reading the Bible that Granny had given me. At first, it went pretty well with the Book of Genesis. As I recall, I even made it through the Book of Exodus. After that, the going got tougher and more bewildering until finally I caved in and gave up altogether. I had failed. Furthermore, our library in Oak Ridge did not have a copy of "Stars Fell on Alabama" so I couldn't read that book either. I was a double failure.

The next year as we drove back down to Alabama, I sat in the back seat of our car praying the whole way that Granny would not remember my promise to read the two books, especially my promise to read the really important one, the Holy Bible. When we arrived at uncle Ellis' house we were welcomed with lots of hugs and kisses and "law, law, how little Davy has grown" etc., from everybody. As we all sat down in the living room I tried to hide behind Wallace hoping Granny would not notice me. However, destiny, bad luck, punishment for all my sins, or whatever you want to call it, ruled the moment. The first words out of Granny's lips were "Davy boy ... did you read the Bible I gave you?" and as she spoke every head in the room turned towards me and waited in silence for my answer. We had been in the house less than five minutes.

I wanted the earth to open and swallow me up. I knew it was pointless to pray for the angels to swoop down and carry me up to Heaven because there was no place there for little boys who break promises to their Grannys. There was no place to run. Everybody was waiting for my answer. I did the only thing I could think of. I lied. "Yes Granny," I said looking down at my sneakers. "Did you read all of it?" she asked. Clearly, I realized, Granny was not born yesterday. She wanted details. "Uh, not all of it yet Granny," I said with a gulp, hoping that our conversation would stop right there. I could feel my face getting redder and redder. "How much did you read Davy?" she asked.

(Years later when reading about the Spanish Inquisition I would think back to that day with Granny Osborn and sympathize with those poor, wretched heretics, about to face the inquisitors of the Holy Roman Catholic Church.)

"The first part Granny. The part about the creation of the world and the Garden of Eden and Adam and Eve and the serpent and the snake ... ". Granny smiled and stopped me right there. "It's a hard book for a little boy to read all by himself." she said. "You done good so far. It's ok to skip around and read the parts you like. God loves you and likes that you are trying." That's when I fell in love with Granny and knew that she truly was wise and why everyone respected her so. It was going to be a good trip to Alabama after all.

It took me another fifty or so years before I found a copy of the other book. A used book store opened up in Sevierville, with two floors of bookshelves. The number of books was vast, but the selection was poor, but I did find a few gems here and there, including a couple of nice hardback volumes by the Brazilian author Jorge Amado. But way too many of the books were cheap paperback romance novels with pictures of muscular men without their shirts staring down at scantily clad women sprawled out in brass beds with expressions of both fear and unbridled desire on their faces. "Ugh", I thought "this place ought to do pretty well in Sevierville." Then, as I was about to leave, there it was ... on a high shelf calling out to me without a sound but beckoning me to look upward... a hardback in a nondescript beige and black dust cover bearing the words "Stars Fell on Alabama - Carl Carmer". "Holy moly" I exclaimed silently inside my stunned mind. "Can it be true?"

It was. I bought it at once not even looking at the price. "It's a first edition," the store owner told me as if justifying the price. "Great" I replied, "That's great." (It was $20.00 bucks) I've never been happier with a book purchase. It was all Granny said it would be and more. The chapters in the section entitled "Part II. In the Red Hills" painted a picture of life in the North Alabama hill country in the 1930s that I would learn later was the life of my Mom's people. I still have the book. It is one of my most valued treasures. At least I kept that part of my promise to Granny Osborn. Redemption at last!

To be continued...