Maryon Allen at home in Vestavia Hills, AL 2011
Among our still-living local luminaries, few are more overlooked or helpful to the Birmingham History Center than the multi-talented Maryon Allen.
The former U.S. Senator for Alabama, now 86 , lives in a Vestavia garden home decorated with memorabilia from her days in Washington D.C., where in 1978 she assumed the senate seat of her husband, Sen. Jim Allen, who died of a heart attack.
Maryon lost the democratic primary runoff to run for the unexpired term. But, not to be regarded as “one of those dumb Washington wives,” she stayed on in Washington, dusted off her journalism career, and at the request of Washington Post publisher Katherine Graham, wrote the column “Maryon Allen’s Washington.”
People warned me against this,” she said. They said, ‘Washington is not really real.’ But I was 55 at the time and had to prove some things on my own.”
Maryon Allen Photo courtesy U.S. Senate Historical Office
In December 1978 she christened the USS Birmingham nuclear submarine (SS N695), and has donated to the center photos of the vessel surfacing during a maiden voyage. The Allen senate chair and other official items are also destined for the center.
But Maryon’s gifts aren’t limited to those of public office: In her workshop on Creekstone Circle, she is restoring 16 of 27 cloth dolls found tossed in a box years ago at the former Lakeview School on Clairmont Avenue. [The building, listed on the National Register of Historic Places in 1977, is leased to a commercial tenant.] The 12-inch dolls, clothed in traditional dress of world nations, are believed to be a handicraft project of the Works Progress Administration (1936-43), although their exact origin remains a mystery.
They were found in a box by the late Penny Cunningham, a retired Lakeview teacher and charter BHC board member. She jotted the following note on the box: “Made during the 30′s by WPA (I think). Scattered and finally discarded at Lakeview School.”
Maryon Allen with two WPA dolls undergoing restoration
That’s a good educated guess. Such handicraft projects got their start as work-relief programs for women within various sections of Franklin Roosevelt’s vast WPA. State-run projects under the Division of Women’s and Professional Projects produced jobs as varied as sewing and canning to administrative work and musical, literary, visual and performing arts.
Further down the hierarchy, 24 states–including Alabama–operated crafts programs under the Museum Extension Project, producing educational visual aids such as book illustrations, dioramas, models – and international dolls — cataloged and marketed to public schools. However, there’s scant evidence that they
Dutch pair with cleaned clothes and new hair. Girl is missing a shoe. Boy's hat is made with 27 separate pieces of felt, some the size of peas.
originated in Alabama. More likely a Birmingham teacher ordered them from one of the more prolific Midwestern programs, where handicraft projects in Kansas, Ohio, and particularly Milwaukee County (WI) dominate the Internet. (Eleanor Roosevelt herself visited the noted Milwaukee Handicraft Project in 1936, taking away two dolls as gifts.)
However they arrived at Lakeview, Cunningham passed the artifacts to the history center, which has 11 on display. The rest were given to Maryon, who still makes a living restoring antique clothing and wedding gowns.
Detail showing hand-painted face
Maryon says it takes her about 20 hours to restore one doll, including remaking wigs, mending some mouse-eaten cloth, and washing and starching costumes. Her progress has been interrupted by two major surgeries, not to mention filling orders at her own clothing restoration business. But these are minor interruptions for a career as productive and distinguished as Maryon’s.
The indomitable former senator begins her life story in 1946, leaving the University of Alabama with two years of journalism training. She was married and divorced and, with
In the Creekstone Cottage workshop
three children, found work as columnist for the weekly Shades Valley Sun. Here, she says, her social contacts allowed her to regularly scoop The Birmingham News’ social section. In time, The News came calling, hiring Maryon in early 1964, only to lose her the same year to a storybook love affair with then-Lt. Gov. Jim Allen.
Maryon met Allen during an interview assignment. Both she and The Senator (as she was later to call him) fell instantly in love and were married four months later, she said.
Jim Allen was elected to the U.S. Senate in 1968 and from Washington, D. C., Maryon wrote the syndicated column, “Reflections of a News Hen,” carried by local Alabama papers. Allen’s death midway through his second term left Maryon deep in mourning, but unwilling to leave D.C. until she had conquered the city on her own terms, she said.
Her third and last column ran three years in the Washington Post 1979-1981.
Maryon Allen's parlor crowded with memorabilia from days in Washington D.C. The Allen Senate chair is far right.
When Allen returned to Birmingham, she bought a rambling house at 3215 Cliff Road, reputed to be a former brothel. She immersed herself in restoring the house and developed her interest in restoring vintage clothing. By the mid-1980s, fueled by her national contacts, the pastime had grown into a profitable business, Maryon Allen Co.
“I was so fortunate to be able to do something I enjoyed, and to make a living at it,” she said. “I just think the workmanship of the past was exquisitely beautiful.”
Maryon in 2004 sold the house and took her business to a Vestavia garden home, christened Creekstone Cottage, where she putters, gardens, reads, entertains, and works.
The house is a museum of Allen’s colorful life, with one room painted blue, the color she wore when she first met Alabama Lt. Governor Jim Allen on April 2, 1964.
Have an historic good time
It’s not Halloween without ghosts, and its not the Birmingham History Center without history. Come get a touch of both Friday, Oct. 28, 4:30-7 p.m., for A Gathering of Spirits. Food, drink, a Victorian vibe. Reservations are $12/$10 for members, online at www.birminghamhistorycenter.org, or Visa, MasterCard, Discover by phone: 205-202-4146.
Location: BHC, 1731 First Avenue North, Birmingham (Young & Vann building).
Notable and notorious figures from Birmingham’s past will join us from Oak Hill Cemetery to tell their stories. Meet a dozen of Oak Hill’s permanent residents– Col. Sloss, Madame Lou Wooster, murder victim Emma Hawes, among others.
Beer, wine, punch. Catered by B&A Warehouse.
For those who still have a taste for tradition, The Rocky Horror Picture Show plays at the Alabama Theatre, 7 p.m., just a few blocks away!
Wood-choppers, karsts & steam dummies: The origins of Highland Avenue
Henry Caldwell, Willis Milner & John MIlner
In January 1884, the city of Birmingham, and its founders, the Elyton Land Company, were emerging from a long economic recession. The potential of the District’s mineral wealth was just beginning to bear fruit while the young city matured with new public services like a municipal water system. That system’s bonds, a debt which threatened the city’s future, had just been paid off thanks to the civic-minded generosity of Josiah Morris, James Sloss and Henry Caldwell.
Caldwell, in particular, had reason to be optimistic. As president of the Elyton company he controlled the still-unimproved 1,500-acre South Highlands parcel just south of the city limit at 9th Avenue South. He tapped the company’s general manager, his brother-in-law Major Willis Milner, to supervise the planning and construction of roads and utilities. Most important to the success of the suburb would be an attractive park and resort at the terminus of a trolley line which showed the choicest building sites to their best advantage.
In 1884 those lots were still “primeval forest”, protected from trespassing “wood-choppers” by armed company agents. Milner and his cousin, John, a railroad engineer, prepared a large-scale topographical survey of the entire parcel before setting the route for what would become Highland Avenue.
Construction on Highland Avenue in 1885
In order to make the route navigable by horse-drawn carriages and mule-drawn trolleys, the road’s grade was limited to a maximum of 3%, forcing it to wind its way along the contour lines of the map. The 100-foot-wide right-of-way was carefully detailed to maximize the frontage estate lots. Natural depressions in the terrain, the result of dormant sink holes in the area’s limestone karst substrate, were reserved as parks and flood basins. A larger tract, near the eastern end of the boulevard, was selected for “Lakeview Park”, with an artificial lake, resort hotel, dance hall, beer garden and other entertainments, including the county’s first base ball diamond (the site, in 1893, of the first ever football game between Alabama and Auburn).
Milner proposed to connect a new trolley service to the meager existing line downtown. The new tracks would cross over the Railroad Reservation and into the South Side at 22nd Street. At 5th Avenue South, the line would split to reach as far as 15th Street to the west before returning to Five Points South. The other branch continued as far east as 29th Street. Those two termini, within the city’s projected street grid, would then be connected by the looping new scenic boulevard of Highland Avenue. The first road construction contracts, signed in 1884, specified a paved road-bed of 25 feet. Road construction coincided with the landscaping of Lakeview Park, whose lake was filled with water piped in from nearby springs. Work was suspended while the company awaited a charter from the state legislature permitting it to construct and operate its proposed public trolley system. Once that was approved, work resumed in early 1885. The completed railway was dedicated on October 1 of that year. The system cost $3,500 per mile over a 7-mile route and earned about $24,000 for the company in each of its first few years.
Overview of Lakeview Park
Soon it became evident that the trolley should be upgraded to steam power, and the 16-pound rails were removed and replaced with 40-pound rail. The resulting steam dummy line, the first in the South, was enormously successful at first, but declined as competing streetcar resorts opened at East Lake, West Lake and Edgewood. Meanwhile the company overextended itself by constructing a belt railroad for the movement of freight and fell into receivership during the financial panic of 1899.
A portion of Highland Avenue was included within the municipal limits of the Town of Highland, incorporated in 1887. The town graded and curbed that section of the thoroughfare. Once Birmingham annexed Highland in 1893, it proceeded to improve the remainder of the boulevard. The streetcar system continued under the auspices of the Birmingham Traction Company.
One Man’s Lunchbox
What could you tell about a man if you just had his empty lunch box? Not much, probably. The size of the lunch box might tell you a little about his appetite. The elaborateness of the box might tell you a little about his wealth. For working adults in the late 19th and early 20th century, lunchboxes were an earmark of social standing—if you were caught toting one, it indicated that you didn’t have the time or money to go home or out to an eatery for your midday meal. As you can see from the photograph, this lunch box is quite small, only about 8 inches long, 5 inches wide and 2.5 inches tall. It is barely large enough to put a sandwich in it, barely big enough for a full piece of fruit, maybe some dates or apple slices. The box itself is very plain – no pictures of Davy Crockett or President Cleveland or advertisements of any kind. It is obviously old, well-used, made of tin with a front key latch. It is in the collection of the Birmingham History Center – item number 671.26, donated by the Oak Hill Memorial Association.
- Captain William C. Ward’s Lunchbox
Luckily, the box came with an old envelope inside. There was nothing in the envelope but on the front cover someone had written in pencil “Gentleman’s Lunchbox of Captain William C. Ward, C.S.A., who moved in 1885 from Selma to Birmingham where he practiced [law] until his death. In those days professional and business men customarily either returned home for the midday meal or carried lunchboxes. Captain Ward rode the street car each day to and from 12 Avenue South and First Avenue North. His residence was at 1717 12th Avenue South. His office was in the Steiner Bank Building on First Avenue North at 21st Street. Captain Ward wore a gentleman’s cape in inclement weather and carried his lunchbox daily.”
Now we have something to go on. A little digging comes up with a remarkable story of an interesting man. Born in Bibb County, Alabama the same year as Mark Twain and Andrew Carnegie (and my great-great grandfather Cornelius Desmond) in 1835 (the year that Haley’s Comet appeared in the 19th century), William Columbus Ward lived on a farm with his parents, David and Elizabeth Ward, near Six Mile. As a young man, he graduated from the University of Alabama in 1858 and became a math teacher at Howard College in Marion until the Civil War started.
He served in the Confederate Army as a Corporal in Company G of the famous 4th Alabama Regiment, fighting in most of the early battles in Virginia. On the second day of the Battle of Gettysburg in July of 1863, he was severely wounded while attacking the right flank of the 20th Maine Regiment on Little Round Top. He spent 35 days in a field hospital on the battleground, eventually recovering from his wound. He was exchanged and returned to Alabama. In 1865, he served as Captain of Company A of the 62nd Alabama Regiment in defense of the State. He was again wounded, this time at Spanish Fort, and was captured on April 9, 1865. He was a prisoner at Ship Island until paroled on May 1, 1865.
- The Steiner Bank Building on First Avenue
Returning home, he prepared himself for the bar by private study and began practicing law in Selma in 1866. In 1885, he moved to Birmingham and became general counsel for the Elyton Land Company. In the city, he enjoyed a large and lucrative practice, taking an active interest in education, politics and public affairs while raising six children with his wife, Alice Ann (Bailey) Ward. He became a popular public speaker, giving orations and addresses at various events. In the early 20th century, he published several historical works, including a paper entitled “The Building of the State,” for the Alabama Historical Society. He died at his home in Birmingham in 1910, just in time to see the comet come back to the sky.
So, can you tell much from a man’s empty lunch box? In this case, I guess you can. Captain William Columbus Ward was a very busy man. He did not have time, during the day, to go home at noon (to deal with a wife and six children). He barely had time at work to eat lunch. As a former soldier in the Confederate service, he probably became very used to eating little at midday anyway. The size of his lunch box was just right. It is now on display in the History Center’s new exhibit case in the lobby of the Alabama Theatre, an appropriate place for a man who enjoyed giving public presentations. One man’s lunchbox, one man’s story.
Birmingham Trivia Quiz
Think you know Birmingham -let’s see if you can do it without Google search.
1. Where was the first Birmingham, Alabama located?
2. How many Medal of Honor winners were from Jefferson County?
USS Birmingham
3. The World War I light cruiser USS Birmingham was famous for what reason?
4. What was the name of the first recorded male quartet?
5. What product was produced by the National Dope Company between 1909 to1911?
6. How many different theaters have operated in downtown Birmingham over the years?
7. Who founded the largest religious media network in the world in the Birmingham area?
Yankees broadcaster born in Birmingham
8. Born Melvin Israel in Birmingham, he was famous for the phrase “How About That!”
9. What town was the first county seat of Jefferson County?
1o. What song performed by the Glenn Miller Band about a place in Birmingham became one of the top hits of the World War II era?
11. What international community service club was founded in Birmingham in 1917?
12. Which current head football coach in the Birmingham area once won the Heisman Trophy as the best college football player in the nation?
13. What was the name of the only automobile made in Birmingham?
14. What was the first public building in Alabama to have air conditioning?
President Harding Rides Into Town
15. Who was the first recorded medical patient in Jefferson County?
16. How many neighborhoods are there in Birmingham?
17. Statistically, Birmingham earned this infamous title in 1894?
18. How did Alabama football teams get the nickname “The Crimson Tide?”
19. Where was the home of “Mr. Realee Good?”
20. What is the longest free flowing river in Alabama?
A New Era in Birmingham Politics
21. What club with over 7,000 members met at the Alabama Theater between 1933 and 1943?
22. What was the first enclosed mall in the Southeast and the fifth ever to be built in the United States?
23. Who was the first African-American mayor of Birmingham?
24. Two events in 1873 almost destroyed the new city of Birmingham – what were they?
25. What is the oldest surviving professional baseball field in the country?
(“Oo-OOOH-oo- oo-oo-oo-oo-ooohh…”)
Have you ever been to Orlando, Florida and visiting Walt Disney World? I have been there twice, once when it was just, almost-completed around 1972 and another time about 15 years later. One of my favorite rides is the Haunted Mansion. At the entrance, a host ghost (voiced by Paul Frees, a veteran announcer who also did TV commercials in the 1960s – he was the voice of the Little Green Sprout in the Jolly Green Giant commercials, for example), boomed out “Welcome, foolish mortals, to the Haunted Mansion.” This was followed by a ride through many rooms filled with ghastly ghostly humor and special effects. In one room, a male and female pair of opera singers join in singing the theme song of the mansion, “Grim Grinning Ghosts,” with the female voice wailing at high soprano and ad-libbing on the third verse.
Loulie Jean Norman
I recently learned at a gathering of Birmingham trivia experts that this particular soprano enjoyed a long career in Hollywood as a coloratura – one who specializes in music that is distinguished by agile runs and leaps in the highest register. Her name was Loulie Jean Norman. She was born in Birmingham, Alabama and graduated from Phillips High School in 1931 as a classmate and eventual lifelong friend of Hugh Martin, the composer most famous for writing “Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas.” In fact, Martin once became part of a quartet formed by Miss Norman and performed with her in the musical “Of Thee I Sing” at the Birmingham Little Theatre.
But unless you have been to the Haunted Mansion or are in your nineties and remember attending that performance long ago, you probably think you have never heard her remarkable voice. You are probably wrong. Loulie Jean Norman’s voice may be one of the most recognized in movie and television history. She began her career performing with Mel Torme in the 1940’s, singing back up on his hit recording of “California Suite.” She then found regular work dubbing singing voices for a whole list of movie stars, including Dihann Carroll (Poggy and Bess), Juliet Prowse (G.I. Blues) and Stella Stevens (Too Late Blues).
She sang the role of Princess for the recording of the Jerry Lewis film, Cinderfella, in 1960, sang backup vocal on the Elvis Presley song “Moonlight Swim” in the movie Blue Hawaii and on the soundtrack for the movie Easter Parade, featuring Judy Garland. She also dubbed in for Jane Powell in the 1954 movie Athena (music by her friend Hugh Martin and Ralph Blane). She was one of the original Ray Coniff Singers, a popular chorus in the 1960s and made regular appearances on the Dean Martin, Carol Burnett and Dinah Shore shows. She sang with all of the great vocalists and composers of the 1940s – 1970s, including Frank Sinatra, Bing Crosby, Ray Charles, Spike Jones, Frankie Laine and Henry Mancini.
Ironically, she is probably most recognized for two songs in which she does not sing a word. In 1961, a young unknown group called the Tokens decided to cover Soloman Linda’s song “The Lion Sleeps Tonight” for RCA records. They needed an experienced soprano to sing the impossibly high top melody, with the extended phrase “oh.” Loulie Jean Norman was chosen for the part. The song reached number #1 on the Hot Billboard 100 and stayed there for three weeks. Take a listen here – http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_LBmUwi6mEo.
Space, the Final Frontier
However, learning of the second song from my trivia friends blew me away. In 1964, westerns dominated the television screen – Wagon Train, Gunsmoke, Bonanza, Rawhide, etc. A middle-aged script writer named Gene Roddenberry came up with a concept of doing a western style show in outer space. He called it Star Trek, eventually selling the idea to NBC. He hired Alexander Courage to write a theme song for the show. Roddenberry had the option of writing lyrics for the song, which he did.
“Beyond the rim of the star-light, my love is wand’ring in star-flight, I know he’ll find in star-clustered reaches love, Strange love a star woman teaches. I know his journey ends never, His star trek will go on forever. But tell him while he wanders his starry sea, remember me, remember me.”
Courage was so repulsed by the lyrics that he hired Loulie Jean Norman to sing an extended phrase to his melody, listen here – http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nHhePr0TKfc. Thus, the famous “Oo-OOOH-oo- oo-oo-oo-oo-ooohh…” that every Star Trek fan knows and loves. Loulie Jean Norman died in her Studio City home in California in 2005, one of the least famous, most recognized voices in 20th century America.
The Alamo, the Cubs and the Cuspidor
By now, those people who have suffered through one of my talks must realize that I am a big fan of historical trivia, especially stories which demonstrate unusual or unexpected connections (not just with Kevin Bacon). For example, in this blog space a few weeks past, we made a connection between a leader of the Ku Klux Klan and the Outlaw Josey Wales (see our post for June 6th). But an exercise in connectivity does not necessarily just involve historic characters; it can also use artifacts of the most mundane nature to weave and wind a trail through time.
Spittoon from the Tutwiler Hotel
One good example is the spittoon, also known as the cuspidor (from the Portuguese “cuspir,” meaning to spit). We have several of them in our collection. The one shown in the photo is from the old Tutwiler Hotel in downtown Birmingham (the Tutwiler met the wrecking ball, or should I say dynamite, in 1974). Spittoons have been around for a long time. They became especially popular in the United States and Australia in the 19th century in saloons, hotels, railway cars and other places that men gathered to use chewing and dipping tobacco. Signs in these places often read “If you expect to rate as a gentleman, then do not expectorate on the floor.” Spittoons were usually made of brass, but fine porcelain and even glass spittoons can be found in collections today. The largest collection of spittoons (according to their website) can be found at the Duke Homestead Historic Site in Durham, North Carolina. Where else could it be but in North Carolina?
The demise of the spittoon in public places can be traced directly to the year 1918. At least 50 million people were killed by the Spanish flu, a potent influenza pandemic which affected another 550 million around the world. Of course, the flu is spread when the little drops that spray out of an infected person’s mouth and nose when he or she sneezes, coughs, laughs, or . . . spits, makes contact with another person. Spittoons are a perfect breeding ground for this virus. People realized this and soon spittoons were sent to attics and closets, only to reappear as novelties in historic homes and museums later in the 20th century.
The Alamo
However, there is a second, more subtle reason for the decline in spittoon use connected directly to a famous engagement during the War for Texas Independence in 1836 – the Battle of the Alamo. On March 6th of that year, 182 Texicans died defending that small mission in San Antonio, including Jim Bowie and Davy Crockett. The villain in the story was Mexican President, General Antonio López de Santa Anna. Made infamous by this event, Santa Anna also fought against the United States in the Mexican War of 1846-1848 which resulted in Mexico losing a great deal of territory, including much of what is now the southwestern part of our country. A pariah in his own country, Santa Anna was exiled, spending several years in Central and South America. Eventually, and ironically, in 1869 he settled on Staten Island in the State of New York.
General Antonio Lopez de Santa Anna
To raise funds in his old age, Santa Anna hoped to publish and sell his autobiography. Not finding a publisher, he decided to publish it himself. To raise money for this venture, he took a supply of sap from a tree native to Mexico to a scientist, expecting that this product could be vulcanized into some type of rubber. After months of experimenting with Chicory tree sap, the scientist was unable to do anything with it. However, he did discover that the sap, combined with sugar was pleasant to chew. The chewing gum industry was born.
Twenty years later, in 1891, a young entrepreneur was struggling to sell his brand of baking soda in the Chicago area. As a promotion, William Wrigley began packaging chewing gum with each can of baking soda sold. Soon, the chewing gum became more popular than the baking soda. The rest is history. Wrigley made so much money that he was able to buy his own professional baseball team – the Chicago Cubs, even changing the name of the ballpark to Wrigley Field.
Now ballplayers are famous for being expert spitters. You can’t watch a game on television without seeing at least 10 or 20 spits. Pitchers, at one time, even used a pitch called the “spitter,” which is now illegal. But there is no need to spit when you are chewing gum. There is therefore no need to use a spittoon when you are chewing gum. We can thank Santa Anna for that.
