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Title: Epistles from Pap: Letters from the man known as 'The Will Rogers of Indiana'

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Title: Epistles from Pap: Letters from the man known as 'The Will Rogers of Indiana'

Author: Andrew E. Durham. Compiled by J. Frank Durham, Edited by
Douglas Hay. Copyright 1997. Permission granted to Project
Gutenberg to publish as a copyrighted etext April 10, 2000 by
JFD. Guild Press of Indiana, Carmel, Indiana, 1997.

January, 1999 [Etext #2677]
[Date last updated: October 10, 2005]

Epistles from Pap:
Letters from the man known as 'The Will Rogers of Indiana
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Title: Epistles from Pap: Letters from the man known as 'The Will Rogers of Indiana'

Author: Andrew E. Durham. Compiled by J. Frank Durham, Edited by
Douglas Hay. Copyright 1997. Permission granted to Project
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JFD. Guild Press of Indiana, Carmel, Indiana, 1997.

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Title: Epistles from Pap: Letters from the man known as 'The Will Rogers of Indiana'

Author: Andrew E. Durham. Compiled by J. Frank Durham, Edited by
Douglas Hay. Copyright 1997. Permission granted to Project
Gutenberg to publish as a copyrighted etext April 10, 2000 by
JFD. Guild Press of Indiana, Carmel, Indiana, 1997.

**This is a COPYRIGHTED Project Gutenberg Etext, Details Above**

Scanned by Dianne Bean.

Title: Epistles from Pap: Letters from the man known as 'The Will Rogers of Indiana'

Author: Andrew E. Durham. Compiled by J. Frank Durham, Edited by
Douglas Hay. Copyright 1997. Permission granted to Project
Gutenberg to publish as a copyrighted etext April 10, 2000 by
JFD. Guild Press of Indiana, Carmel, Indiana, 1997.

EPISTLES FROM PAP: LETTERS FROM THE MAN KNOWN AS 'THE WILL ROGERS OF INDIANA'

by Andrew E. Durham. Compiled by J. Frank Durham, edited by Douglas Hay

Andrew Durham was a Hoosier attorney and state senator during the twenties, Often covered in the papers, he was one of Indiana's leading denmocratic politicians who served as minority leader in the Indiana Senate in 1927. During 1925 he was instigator of the famous "Runaway Democrats" episode in the Senate. Later, in the thirties and forties, he continued his political career as a lobbyist for the railroad industry. Most of all, he was a fascinating and sought-after speaker and raconteur—a man both newspapers and appreciative listeners to his speeches called "The Will Rogers of Indiana" for his wit and incisive commentaries on the passing scene. Durham left over five hundred letters which reflect this interesting wit and commentary. "Pap's" son, Frank, compiled them and they are presented here as a tribute to the man—and an era which encouraged the writing of literate, meaningful letters.

DEDICATION

To "Munny"—Aura May Sawyer—and "Pap"—Andrew Everett Durham— small-time lawyer, farmer, Hoosier politician and father extraordinaire of son J. Frank and daughters Mary Joanna, Sarah Jane, Margaret, Ann Drew and Aura May.

INTRODUCTION

The writer of these letters, Andrew Everett Durham (1882-1954), was a well-known figure in his day—an Indiana State Legislator, railroad lobbyist, small town lawyer and banker, part-time farmer and livestock-raiser, public orator, occasional newspaper correspondent—and prolific writer of letters.

Andrew's son, J. Frank, still lives in Greencastle, Indiana, the place where Andrew made his mark. For years Frank had wanted to "do something with Pap's letters" in the way of publication, but, as a practicing attorney and busy man in his own right, felt he needed some help. He tried to enlist his sister, Joanna, once an Associated Press feature writer, New York Bureau, who now resides in Milford, Pennsylvania. She was one of my columnists when I was editor of the weekly Pike County Dispatch, in Milford. However, Joanna felt she could not take time from her own obligations to assist on Frank's project, and asked me to help.

Frankly, I wondered at first whether Andrew E. Durham's letters would arouse much interest in these days of globalization, the Internet and a pop culture centered around sensational audio/video special effects, but I agreed to at least look at a few. Soon an Express Mail packet arrived with the first of hundreds of pages of yellowed onion-skin copies of typewritten correspondence, most of it dating from 1913 through 1954.

It wasn't long before I cracked my first smile over a clever turn of phrase used to describe a domestic scene. The first good laugh followed not long after that, upon reading how a former governor colluded with a livestock speculator to run up the price of breeding bulls. An account of a disastrous summer theater production was downright hilarious. Then I found myself nodding soberly in agreement over witty but forceful arguments about the need to balance the budget and restore fiscal responsibility to government an argument that could have keen made yesterday, except that the deficits quoted were only in the millions, not the billions. Finally, there was a story about an ill-fated love affair of an old bachelor brother that produced a lump in my throat.

I quickly discovered that Andrew Durham had a great wit, an irrepressible sense of humor and untiring interest in his surroundings—the people, the politics, the commerce of everyday life—all of it studied thoroughly and recounted energetically with a homespun irony akin to that of other humorists of his era, such as George Ade, Mark Twain and Will Rogers.

In his day, Andrew was much in demand as a public speaker. A brittle newspaper clipping included with the letters revealed that at a reunion of his college fraternity, in 1929, he shared the podium with legendary baseball manager Branch Rickey and prominent Chicago attorney Roy O. West.

As demonstrated by his letters, Andrew was an irrepressible storyteller who could not resist a jest even when ordering parts for a stove. When writing in pursuit of a payment on an overdue note at the bank, he would ease the bite by asking the debtor's "help" in paying for a daughter's wedding. Andrew wrote incessantly. I suppose everyone wrote more back then, when telephone connections were often poor and always expensive, but stamps cost only 2 cents. Letters were also a form of entertainment in those pre-TV days.

Much of his correspondence was business-related, and Andrew was evidently a very busy man. But he could still find time to type out a five-page, single-spaced letter of advice to the son of an old friend who had landed in jail. He had never even met the young miscreant. In that and other instances, Andrew's prose took on new energy, stressing the therapeutic value of character and principles, as well as a good laugh.

Long before I stopped reading that first day, I was hooked. This stuff is priceless. Some of it might appear exotic or dated, particularly to nonagrarian folks who do not know what it is like to live off the land or reside in small towns where everybody knows everybody else—but even satisfied urbanites may be interested in reading about a different way of life. And they surely will see similarities to their own situations in the many stories about eccentric relatives, surly waitresses, guileful politicians, child-rearing and money woes. Far from being outdated, I decided, much of Andrew's material has a timeless quality—it addresses standards and values, family and community foibles, human dignity and folly—universal themes that still exist, even in our electronic age.

Editing the letters was the easy part. Frank and I never did decide how to organize them for publication. His "Pap" had corresponded with hundreds of people about a multitude of personal and professional topics; several diverse activities and interests would often be recounted in the same letter, sometimes as they occurred but often in retrospect several years later. We finally decided to present the correspondence in chronological order, so as to best reflect the flow of Pap's life, including his memories as well as his latest observations. I found it great reading, and hope you do also.

Douglas N. Hay
Mill Rift, PA
April 22, 1997

SOME BACKGROUND ON 'PAP'

"Pap"—Andrew Everett Durham—was born May 3, 1882, the youngest son of James V. Durham and Sarah A. (Black) Durham, of Russellville, Indiana. His paternal grandfather, Jacob, had emigrated from Kentucky to become one of the early settlers of Russell Township—a farmer, store-keeper, state legislator and mover and shaker in his own right, as described in one of Pap's papers.

Pap's father was also active in local affairs, and supplemented his farm income by starting a private bank in Russellville along with Pap's older brother, Ernest. The Russellville Bank stayed in family hands for about 70 years. Pap was fond of recounting how, as a youth, he got his start in business there—as janitor, for $2 a week. He eventually worked his way up to chairman of the board. The bank survived the Depression in fine order and declined to join the FDIC, which Pap publicly denounced as a sham designed to subsidize poorly-run banks at the expense of well-run ones, with the public footing the bill.

While maintaining their Russellville interests, Pap's parents moved to nearby Greencastle in his youth. After graduating from high school, he was sent to Western Military Academy, Alton, Illinois, to "straighten out" after his strict Kentucky-bred mother discovered that he had been hanging around the local pool parlor. He graduated from the academy in 1899 with high honors, and continued his education graduating from Indiana University in 1903 and from Indiana School of Law in 1906.

On Thanksgiving Day, 1910, he married Aura May Sawyer, of Muscatine, Iowa. The wedding took place at the retirement home of the bride's parents, in Milford, Pennsylvania. The union eventually produced five daughters and one son.

Pap began his political career with election to the Indiana House of Representatives in 1913, following in the footsteps of his grandfather. His politics emphasized conservatism, low taxes and self-reliance. He was re-elected to the House in 1915, and then elected to the State Senate in 1917 and 1923. It is noteworthy that all of his victories came as a Democrat, although most of his constituents were registered Republican.

Pap was not only good at wooing Republican voters. He was also generally effective in gaining bipartisan support for his legislative undertakings. But he was not loath to take resolute action, if required. When it appeared that a Republican gerrymandering bill would succeed, Pap, as Minority Leader, had his Democratic delegation go into "hiding" across the state line, preventing action on the reapportionment bill by removing a quorum. It also froze all other legislative activities. The Republicans finally agreed to withdraw the objectionable bill, and the "runaway" Democrats returned.

His growing family necessitated a larger income and after a gubernatorial run failed to materialize, Pap retired from the Senate, in 1929. He devoted more time to his law practice and became a lobbyist for the Indiana Railroad Lobby Assn. In such capacity, he continued to monitor his former peers, and had the reputation of having attended every Legislative Session from 1913 to 1951.

Throughout his life, Russellville was a continuing source of gratification to Pap, and also provided a wealth of material for anecdotes of small-town life, which were incorporated into his public-speaking and his voluminous correspondence.

The family farm just outside the village was also a valued source of income, as well as sustenance, and Pap took a personal hand in its operation, spending more and more time there as he grew older.

Andrew E. Durham passed away at home in Greencastle, July 23, 1954.

GLOSSARY

Pap was an inveterate inventor of nicknames, applied mostly to his family. Some of the letters in the collection contain the following references:

"Annabelle Lee" (Mrs. Ralph Weinrichter of Menlo Park,
California) has a daughter, Kathryn, and a son, Ralph Weinrichter
II, also of Menlo Park.

Deceased daughter Sarah Jane (Mrs. Robert Anderson) had five
children: Heather (deceased) Scott, Roderick, Jennifer (now Mrs.
William Amon of Fairfax, Virginia) and Cathy (Mrs. Richard
Sandler, also of Fairfax.)

Joan's four include William McGaughey, Jr., and Andrew D. of
Minneapolis, Minnesota, David P. of Rochester, New York and
Margaret Durham McGaughey Isaacson of Brunswick, Maine.

In addition to the two sons mentioned by Frank (George and
Andrew) he has two daughters, Stephanie (Mrs. Stephanie D.
Burton, of Winter Haven, Florida) and Madeleine (Mrs. Keith
Thomas of Shelbyville, Indiana.)

Aunt Margaret — sister, Margaret D. (married name, Bridges)

Franklin Pierce, a.k.a. Frankfurter — son J. Frank

Francisco — daughter-in-law Frances (nee Haberkorn)

Ira — Ira Flauer, hired hand on the family's Russellville farm

Jane — daughter Sarah Jane (married name, Anderson, now deceased)

Joan, a.k.a. Jonie Bonie — daughter Mary Joanna (married name,
McGaughey)

Margaretta — daughter Margaret (deceased)

Munny, a.k.a. Munny-Bun — wife Aura May (nee Sawyer)

The Old Brakeman — Walter J. Behmer, retired Gen. Supt., The
Pennsylvania Railroad

"Red" Purnell — Fred Purnell, Congressman from Indiana

Sugar Foot, a.k.a. Footser — daughter Aura May

Uncle Ernest — brother J. Ernest Durham

ABOUT THE CO-AUTHOR

J. Frank Durham, who compiled this anthology of his father's letters, was born in Greencastle, Indiana, October 3, 1915. He went to work early, as a newsboy carrying the Indianapolis News and local paper, and then began his education at the legendary Dan Beard's Boy Scout Camp, in Pike County, Pennsylvania. He was subsequently a member of the Phillips Exeter Academy Class of 1934, obtained an AB degree from hometown DePauw University in 1937 and LLB from Indiana University in 1941.

Frank's budding law practice was interrupted by World War Two. He enlisted in the U.S. Naval Reserve, graduating from bomb disposal school and serving on Guadalcanal, where he received a field promotion to the rank of ensign. After being released from active duty, Frank chaired a committee that secured the only captured German V-1 Rocket ever put on public display in the United States. A unique war memorial, this "Buzz Bomb" rests atop a solid limestone V-shaped base at the southwest corner of the Putnam County Courthouse, in Greencastle.

In 1944, Frank married Frances M. Haberkorn of Detroit, Michigan. They had four children, Andrew H., George B., Stephanie and Madeleine. During a 1975 tour of the Pacific, Frances suffered a fatal aneurysm. In 1979, Frank married Elaine Eide Moe, of Sacramento, California, who is not only a gourmet cook but an active jazz band pianist.

Although he never developed his father's intense interest in politics, there are similarities. Frank was elected Prosecuting Attorney of the 64th Judicial Circuit for two terms, and then Greencastle City Judge for two more terms. He still practices probate law; was a trust officer of the Russellville Bank for 25 years, and a former bank vice president.

For recreation, Frank runs a bulldozer and backhoe on the family farm near Russellville, continuing to actively participate in its management, like his "Pap" before him. The farm also has the hangar and airstrip for Frank's Cessna, which he enjoys flying when not engaged in his law practice or farming. He first soloed in 1935. In 1971, he was a guest of the Canadian Government, helping celebrate the 100th anniversary of the Northwest Territory by flying with a small group down the Mackenzie River. He has flown a small plane to Alaska and back seven times, and was a guest writer in a published book by Loren McDonald, "A Very Private Pilot." On another occasion, Frank and a friend took his young sons on a float trip down Alaska's Porcupine River, using kayaks they built themselves from kits in an Eskimo village.

At age 82, J. Frank Durham is a worthy scion of his very active lineage.

ACKNOWLEDGMENT

Acknowledgments and thanks are long overdue to Elaine, my lovely spouse, who is largely responsible for the success of our marriage; my sister Aura May Durham, for all the proof-reading and telephone-answering; my sister Ann (Mrs. Ralph Weinrichter of Menlo Park, CA), for her research and help; my sister Joan (Mrs. William McGaughey of Milford, PA), for her editorial assistance and continued interest in this book; Indiana University Chancellor Herman B. Wells, who steered me to Nancy Niblack Baxter, president of Guild Press of Indiana, the book's publisher; my lifelong friend Maurice Smith, former newspaper, radio and TV pundit at Fairbanks, Alaska, for his practical and constructive suggestions; my Delt fraternity brother Loren Sylvester McDonald, who had a similar undertaking in his recently published book "A Very Private Pilot"; my neighbors Jack and Marian Cook, for their continued assistance, suggestions and interest; and last but most noteworthy, the distinguished writer-editor, Douglas N. Hay, of Mill Rift, PA, for appropriately handling the epistles from Pap. Without his sure and steady hand, they would probably have been permanently entombed in trunks and boxes in Pennsylvania, Indiana and California.

J. Frank Durham

CHAPTER I: EARLY YEARS—1899-1911

As a boy of 17, Pap was considered somewhat wayward by his strict Kentucky-bred mother, after being caught hanging around the local pool parlor. He was also out of favor with his father for daring to criticize the latter's rather conservative attire. So to help him "straighten out" and prepare to become a useful citizen, he was sent to Western Military Academy, Upper Alton, Illinois, in 1899. He graduated from that institution with high grades, but the endeavor to reform him was nevertheless only partly successful. Enrolling at "Old Asbury" (DePauw University, Greencastle), he promptly got in trouble with the Methodist administration for organizing a dance at "The Delts," his fraternity house. About to be suspended, he beat the administration to the punch by transferring to Indiana University, where he went on to undergraduate and law degrees.

Pap subsequently met and fell in love with Aura May Sawyer (better known as "Munny" to the family). The couple eventually married and Grandfather Sawyer gave them a generous start in life by financing a house in Greencastle, but not before being satisfied with Pap's credit-worthiness.

FIRST TASTE OF THE OUTSIDE WORLD

(Pap's earliest surviving letters were written at Western
Military Academy, Upper Alton, Illinois, the first to Mitch
Taylor, a Civil War veteran, the other to his mother.)

Upper Alton, Ill.
March 9, 1899

Dear Uncle Mitch, I am over here in Illinois going to the Military Academy. This is the damndest place I ever got into. They are terrible strict. They make me get up at a certain time in the morning (6:30) and have the meals at a certain time. They make us go to bed at 9:00 and have the lights out at a quarter after nine. If we do anything wrong we have to carry guns and walk. For smoking the penalty is five hours hard walking. If we wear a dirty collar we have to walk an hour. They make us have our rooms unlocked so that they can come in at any time. They require us to make our own beds and if they are not just right they report us and that means two hours walking. This is a damn sight harder than ground- hog hunting. How I wish I was back. . .

Don't forget our spree down the creek next summer. While I was writing just now I heard the whistle of the steamboat on the Mississippi. We hear several every morning. . . From what I know now I shall be home about June 7 or 8 and we will get right to work on the boats. Yours Truly, Andrew E. Durham

Upper Alton, Ill.
April 6, 1899

Dear Mother, After going to so much trouble to get a declamation it is not going to do me any good. Instead of having a preliminary contest in which we all could speak and then having some good elocutionist decide those who were the best speakers, the teachers here allowed each fellow to vote for anyone he pleased and the three boys getting the highest number of votes were elected to speak. . . And I cannot even get to try. . . There was nothing fair about the thing at all. . . You see, all the officers here work for each other. . . They just got up and nominated each other and that was all there was to it. It is very hard on me coming in at the middle of the year and have just barely gotten acquainted. Nearly all of the Senior Class are officers and I am a private, and being as there are so many officers it is nearly impossible for a private to get anything.

But there is one thing that I didn't get left in and that was Scholarship. They have here what they call the Upper Ten. That is the ten students who have the highest grades in the whole school. These ten get their names put in the school publication. I was fourth on the list of ten out of 84 scholars, and first in the senior class . . . My general average was 95 percent.

Are you taking care of my shotgun? Have you had it cleaned out?
Where is it? . . .

HELP THE KIDS START OUT BUT DON'T HURRY THEM

(Andrew and Aura May Sawyer had a prolonged engagement. The reason becomes clearer upon reading this letter, written surreptitiously by Pap's future father-in-law, F. P. Sawyer, of Muscatine, Iowa, to Pap's father, James V. Durham, in Greencastle. This is not one of Pap's own letters, but is interesting nevertheless for what it says about family values).

Muscatine, Iowa
February 17, 1909
J.V. Durham
Greencastle, Ind.

Dear Sir: I suppose as is quite natural, you are giving some thought to the approaching happiness of Andrew, as we are to that of Aura May; so you will understand my motive in writing you direct, and without the knowledge of either Aura May or Andrew. . .

I think you probably know our suggestion as to building a moderate house to rent to them, but as we have never boiled it down to exact conditions (only the general idea), you may not understand just what we contemplate.

You are unquestionably as mindful of what your son does, as we are as to ours; but the boys are expected to "look out for themselves" more than the girls; yet had it not been for my father's help, both as to judgment and moderately financially in the way of a gift at majority and loans to help me start (which I later repaid) I would not have been able to succeed or don't think I would—as I have. And the gift of $500 after the wedding from my father-in-law was not without big appreciation on my part. A few years later, when I was building a moderate home on a lot bought with part of the $500, which my wife had not invested in special furniture, and some I had saved, he gave us $2,000 more to help build the home. I certainly appreciated it, and put the home all in her name. Later, after we moved and it was sold, I returned the money to her and she still has it.

My own experience and observation convinces me that the best time to help young people who show qualities . . . is when it will do them the most good, which I think is when they are starting out, and not after they have slaved along and shown their ability to take care of themselves (though it does often bring out their best qualities quicker, but they don't need the help so much then). I don't mean that one should go so far as to lessen their realization that they must "support themselves", but the first three or four years are hard for young people who have to make it all without some help.

But I don't believe in hurrying such a move. First, they should wait to see if their love for each other promises to be what should exist to insure the desired future, and secondly, 'til they can feel fairly assured that they can be self-supporting or are willing to live as the husband can reasonably afford.

In this generation, what were luxuries to us in younger days are to a degree necessities to those who have been brought up with them, so that the problem is not exactly as it was in the pioneer days, when good health, no debts, a job at $1.25 per day, three economically furnished rooms and enough to pay the preacher were all that were required. . .

I explained to both Aura and Andrew a couple of conditions I thought advisable before I could approve their setting the day. First, satisfaction that they had not, or were not apt to change their minds as to each other, and secondly, that he should have demonstrated his ability to earn or have in sight an income of $1,000 per year. I did not think this high, but wanted them to know they must expect to live economically, and that I expected them to depend on their own resources. The limitation I named was more theoretical than arbitrary, though they both think I still hold to that; but it depends on where they are to live whether this is above or below what they would need for the first year or so. They are becoming restless, and I don't blame them, and to carry out my plans as to a house requires some little time if they want it ready for their first home—as I would like to arrange it if advisable.

This has led me to write you, feeling that you and Mrs. Durham should be consulted, and know just what Mrs. Sawyer and I contemplated, and to have your approval; also that you think they are not taking an unwise step, from your point of view, as you know much better what Greencastle presents as a permanent home for them, and Andrew's present situation, and what he can reasonably expect in the near future. Aura May has various pieces of furniture which have been given her from time to time, and her first piano, which she thinks will be all she needs for awhile. . . so that it is not the original outlay that need perplex them. As to the house, I will try and briefly explain.

I contemplate putting up a seven-room house, with . . . living room.. . . dining room and kitchen for first floor; three bed rooms and bathroom for second and one room finished in attic. They would not furnish the smallest bedroom, but use it for sewing room. . . I don't want to exceed $6,000, including ground, as they don't want to carry a load, and I don't feel that I can tap my estate too heavily when out of business and depending on income only. . . I propose to rent this to them at the rate of $200 for first year, payable monthly if they can do so, and 'til they can from their income increase the rent to bring me equal to 3% per year and taxes and insurance, for a period of five years. . . At the end of five years I would expect they would be able to make it more if I or my estate needed it, or that they would buy it at just what it had actually cost me.

If my estate will permit me to do so at that time, or any earlier time if they wish to buy it, I would expect to give Aura May at least $2,000 of the value. . . In case of my death I would so arrange that the whole investment would go to Aura, as part of her share in any of my estate. . .

I do not expect any guarantee beyond their own ability to do it. So I am not referring the matter to you for any part in it; but so that you may let me know if you feel the plan would be beyond expectations from what you know of matters there, or probability that his position is not calculated to develop so as to be able to keep up his end or remain in Greencastle. I do not know how much he is making now, or if you expect to aid him in any way, and feel that such matters are, and should be, just as a father may be willing, or can afford; and I always feel that parents must first consider each other and the needs for advancing age, no matter how kindly they feel toward their children. . .

But it occurred to me that it was certainly due you that if I calculated on doing anything which might look as if it would directly or indirectly put a burden on Andrew and overload him, you should have an opportunity to judge. . .

Also that you should know what was intended before you might approve such a step and possibly have in mind some plan for them of your own, with which mine might conflict.

Or that perhaps you would advise something different, in which I could cooperate with you. . .

There has been a little hope on their part that there could be a June wedding; but I know they wish to be governed by your and my approval. At least from Aura May's remarks from time to time, I feel that they are perplexed as to whether they would be considered rash or unwise to even set the time at all, particularly as it appears they have not come up to my second stipulation as to his income. I used it about 18 months ago, when he asked for my consent to their engagement, and I have not been asked to change, so I guess they placed more stress on it than I intended; but before I modify it, if that is the greatest barrier, I concluded to write you, as to your approval of my plans, and your judgment.

As a matter of fact, we all know that what it costs a young couple to live all depends on their health and their inclinations. Aura May is exceptionally practical, and with no heavier expense for rent than my plan contemplates I think if Andrew has the prospects of moderate living expenses, it is putting them to rather hard lines if they are waiting to meet my early stipulations.

But I don't want to do anything to hurry them if you feel with your knowledge of conditions there that my plan or their marriage this summer sometime (perhaps as soon as a lot can be secured and house built and ready for them) is not wise. . .

I have read the above to Mrs. Sawyer and she approves my sending
it and joins me in good wishes . . .
Very Sincerely,
F. P. Sawyer

(The reply made by Pap's father is not known, but the house was not built that summer, and the wedding did not take place for almost another two years)

CHAPTER II: THE WILL ROGERS OF HOOSIER POLITICS—1913-1930

Pap was developing a successful law practice, but this was not enough to satisfy his extrovert nature. He decided to go into politics. And it became a long-term commitment. Between 1913 and 1951, Pap attended every session of the Indiana Legislature, either as a member or a lobbyist. He was elected to the House in 1913 and 1915, following with two six-year terms in the Senate. In 1927, he was Minority Floor Speaker for the Senate. He was never defeated in any of his races for the Legislature, which spoke well for a Democrat running in a predominantly Republican district. Pap's bipartisan equanimity as well as his developing sense of humor was reflected in a letter of recommendation on behalf of a young Republican who had the good sense to vote Democratic.

Public speaking goes with politicking, and Pap developed a flair for this too. He was much in demand as a speaker before service clubs and other organizations, and his light-hearted, homespun populist style was even compared to that of the great Will Rogers. Anecdotes of life in small-town Russellville figured large in his material. The letter titled, "Hazards of Trying a Comeback" is an example—this lengthy epistle was by way of an apology for not being able to appear in person before a group, but a version of it was undoubtedly spun from a podium or two on other occasions.

Pap's sense of humor, generously tinged with irony, found other outlets as well, including a gibe at a company that was making a big deal over a small bill. But he could also be serious, such as when he wrote advice to the jailed son of an old friend.

As the years went by, Pap found politics and public speaking more time-consuming and less-rewarding, particularly when faced with the obligations—financial and otherwise—of raising a growing family. He did not choose to seek re-election upon the expiration of his second Senatorial term, in 1929.

PROOF OF FITNESS

Greencastle, Indiana
March 29, 1915
Honorable John W. Kern
Washington, D.C.

My dear Senator Kern: In behalf of Joseph R. Lloyd, of this city, who informs me you suggested that he get his Representative (among others) to address you concerning his desires, I am taking this opportunity to make a plea that you recommend him for admittance to the U.S. Military School at West Point.

You know, Senator Kern, I sometimes wonder if a letter of recommendation is a knock or a boost in these days of wholesale recommendations, they have become so easy to obtain. . .

However that may be, there arise occasions where it is a real pleasure to recommend deserving young men . . .

As proof conclusive he cannot go far wrong after setting himself right this early in life in the face of adverse precept and precedent, I can only say Mr. Lloyd comes from one of the largest and most influential Republican families in Putnam County, and yet, last Fall (his first vote), he voted the straight Democratic ticket from top to bottom.

I am sure you will agree with me: If all the above be true, and our young friend is unable to meet the full requirements of West Point for admission .. . . the Academy should be abolished.

WHO'S WASTEFUL NOW?

August 13, 1917

My dear Mr. Sawyer: . . . I am very much obliged for the invitation out, but I can't get away. We will have a special Session of the Legislature, it now seems almost certain. . . The coal situation is acute in this State, and it is for relieving that situation the reason is given for calling a special session. . . I'll venture a guess, it won't be for the purpose of coal legislation, but on the other hand we will have to fight out again Governor Goodrich's pet Excise Tax Bill, and for additional appropriations for state institutions. The former I'm opposed to; the latter I am not. Only the latter comes with ill grace. Goodrich, in his opening campaign speech, which was delivered in Greencastle, charged the Democrats with criminal wastefulness of the state's money, especially in the maintenance of the state institutions. And he made his whole campaign on that one issue—Economy. Now I learn from Dr. Edenharter, Superintendent of Central Hospital for Insane, that for the first time in his experience as Superintendent during a period of 26 years, there is a deficit—and a large one—in his maintenance fund for that institution. The real reason is obvious: things have advanced so in price. I forgot to say too, that our appropriation this time for The Central Hospital was larger than it ever was. All in all, our General Appropriation Bill was $1,250,000 larger than it was two years ago, and our Specific Appropriation was $250,000 larger. I know, because I was on the Ways and Means Committee both years. It all goes to show that what a fellow uses to get in on don't always turn out to be just as he would have you believe. . .

SENATORIAL ASPIRANT

June 20, 1918
Mr. Sam D
Wingate, Ind.

Dear Sam: Along with a vast concourse of other office seekers, I attended the Democratic State Convention at Indianapolis yesterday, and got my hide again saturated with Jeffersonian and Jacksonian doctrine. . .

Of course, I called around on the Montgomery County Delegation to allow them a chance to give the "once over" on what they were reasonably expected to cast their franchises for State Senator for this Fall. As I told you some time ago, I'm a candidate for State Senator from Montgomery and Putnam Counties, and the Lord knows I want it and need it. Want it even more than Noah T— wanted to be J.P. at Veedersburg.

Some time when I'm over in your bailiwick, I want to look you up and get a little advice if you won't mind giving it to me. Don't suppose you'd mind doing that.

Every once in a while I make an inquiry about "Red" Purnell and they all say he's doing fine. He sure is a mighty loyal friend. His job never swelled him even so much as a urine ant bite would. I want to go over to see him one of these times, and see just how long it would take me to find the Capitol building.

He and I took our first trip to New York City together. We got the roofs of our mouths sun burned. . . As ever,

EMBARRASSING MOMENT

April 16, 1921
Chicago Tribune
Chicago, Illinois

Gentlemen: It happened only recently during the warm spell. I was in St. Louis, and by chance, met an old school friend who I had not seen since we were boys in Military School together. With him were the female members of his family, and a large part of their feminine acquaintances it would seem. After introductions and felicitations all around, it so happened another former cadet of the same Correctional Institution was passing in an auto when my friend hailed him and called my attention to the fact that a brother Shriner whom I ought to know was approaching. Imbued with the spirit of the Order, I stepped to the curb at the point of highest visibility to my pedestrian party, and started a most elaborate and obsequious salaam—when suddenly and without warning, the posterior warp and woof of my trousers gave way into a jagged 14-inch Maltese Cross with the suddenness of the dam at the Johnstown Flood.

If the remuneration for submitting this is in proportion to the
humiliation and mental pain and anguish suffered, the Tribune
Corporation will pass its next quarterly dividend.
Respectfully,

THE 75 CENT MYSTERY BILL

March 3, 1922
The W. H. Anderson Co.
524 Main Street
Cincinnati, Ohio

Gentlemen: I am just in receipt from you of a statement for 75 cents prefixed with "Balance as per Last Statement", and underneath and to one side of the figures is a sort of Odd Fellows hand with thumb extended parallel to the open fingers, and "if you please" inscribed on the palm thereof.

For the life of me I don't know what that balance is for. The only thing I can remember having bought from you was away back there about the first time Bryan ran, it seems to me. I ordered, and paid cash at the time of purchase, a set of Watson's Works Practice and Forms. Part of the set was to be delivered at once (and it was) and the balance in a short time thereafter. Well, time wore on, the horse was supplanted by the automobile, congress shoes were relegated to the attic. . . Sometime during this time, which we will call the "Elizabethan Period" of this transaction, to my utter consternation, I received another volume of this important Work. I was delighted, as the clear and fresh blue of the volume brightened up the general drab of those other volumes that had come to me long before. . .

Again, time wore on. Grover Cleveland and his Memorial Day fishing trips were discussed less and less by adverse politicians, . . . telephones came into universal use, Cole Younger was released from the Stillwater Prison; . . . George Blake, one of our local inventive geniuses, set in motion in his downtown basement his perpetual motion machine, that when once got in motion was only stilled when it disintegrated and tore out his east brick wall and scattered cogs, wheels and shafts over a radius of two blocks; . . . when, lo!—another and last volume made its appearance, making my set . . . complete. What more could I ask, except to fervently regret that they all did not get here before mine eyes were dimmed, mine step halting, and my hand palsied?

But, I see I have become reminiscent, as old men will. . .

What I wanted to ask in this letter is for information about what this bill is for? If it had been a REMITTANCE OF 75 CENTS, I would presume it was accumulated interest at 2 cents per decade on my original investment in the set paid years ago, and that you had relented and were quietly paying me off in a depreciated currency, with the hope I would accept it and say nothing.

But it is a demand, and I am therefore at complete loss to account for it. It might be for the postage on that set extending through all these years. On the other hand I do not believe it is that for two reasons: I dimly recall when I bought the set, and paid cash in advance, that covered all charges; and second, if it were for postage, the accumulated interest I would owe you by lapse of time would be in an amount far in excess of the 75 cents demanded.

Please enlighten me.
Respectfully,

TO THE COMMITTEE ON SKY LIGHTS?

December 6, 1922
Honorable Emmett E. Branch
Lieutenant Governor
Martinsville, Indiana

My dear Governor, I have your "epistle to the Corinthians" of recent date concerning committee assignments for the coming session of the Legislature, and desire to thank you for the opportunity of suggesting my preference.

I had read in the Indianapolis paper where the Messrs. C—, H— and C— had met with you for the palpable purpose of putting us down-trodden and foot-sore Democrats where we could do a minimum of harm, and so I went over yesterday—the State Committee was scheduled to meet—for the purpose of interviewing those delectable gentlemen to see if I were not scheduled as the ranking Democrat of the Committee on Sky Lights and Ventilation.

The sessions I was a member of the House, I was on the Ways and Means, Railroad and Banking Committees. . . My fitness for the above committees is striking. The expenditure of money always appealed to me, as I have had little of my own to expend, and naturally those of us in that class like to see the other fellow's go. As an authority on railroads, I met the 5 o'clock p.m. train at Russellville regularly for years and years; not that I expected guests, but it was the custom of the town, so I have an intimate knowledge of the stopping and starting of trains. I was "connected" with the Russellville Bank from the ages of 8 to about 18 ("Connected" has a variety of meanings. "Red" Purnell, now in Congress from the 9th District, and I roomed together during a part of our college careers at I.U. I heard much of his "girl" back at Veedersburg, whose father, Red freely confessed, was "connected" with the Cloverleaf Railroad. Some years later, I learned the good man was Section Boss at that point). My "connection" with Russellville Bank was spent principally in a janitorial capacity, and the balancing of pass books.

And so, in the full knowledge there are 33 of you and one of me, but that I have truth and justice on my side, and my trust is in the Lieutenant Governor, I must stay where you place me and be content, except that I do hope the Committee on Swamp Lands is full to overflowing . . . Very respectfully,

WAXING POETIC OVER FIRST LOVE

November 24, 1925
Ithaca Gun Company
Ithica, New York

Gentlemen,

I am sending you by parcel post the barrels of an Ithica hammerless shot gun, No. 29438, I must have bought 30 years ago or more when a very small boy. . .

It was the pride of my younger life. I have slept with it in sheer delight, and for fear it would be stolen. For years not a pin point of rust marred its gloriously shining barrels; the stock shone as does the throne of Allah from being gone over hundreds of times lovingly and tenderly with silk and wool, oil and polish. Its shooting prowess—it made the fur fly out of unsuspecting rabbits before Bryan built his crown of thorns and cross of gold; it sought the tender spots in ambitious fox squirrels when automobiles were as scarce as we Democrats are now; it has shot at everything from a beer bottle to a chicken- thief, and never failed or refused to respond.

The number of this gun was burned in my memory so unforgettably that today it came to me as doth the lamb the ewe. And while I do not know when the Magna Charta was wrung from King John, yet this numeral remains with me—yesterday, today and to the ages.

But evil days are come. The unrelenting grip of time has forced a fingerhold. Disintegration shows, for the first time, its hydra- head. When it happened, or how, I do not know, but only today, in removing it from its case preparatory to a hunt on the morrow, I found the rib split at the muzzle—and so, I must forego my biennial hunt.

Look it over and fix it up. You will probably have a bill for services. Send it on and if I haven't gone into bankruptcy keeping kool with Coolidge during these most damnably hard times, I'll try to splice enough money together to meet your demands. . . Respectfully,

ADVICE IN A CUSTODY BATTLE

May 19, 1926
Mr. J——,
Hot Springs, Arkansas

Dear Sir, I have given the matter of the custody and control of your boy some thought. . . In Indiana the general rule of law is that the father of a minor is entitled to the custody of his child or children . . . even as against the child's legal guardian—which happens to be the fact in your case. As I understand it, Mr. A— was appointed guardian of your boy in this court. Your letter pretty positively asserts that you never at any time, either verbally or in writing, released such right.

I find that the courts have pretty generally taken the view that the welfare of the child is the paramount matter. If it can be shown that the father is not a fit or suitable person or not able financially to support such child, then the courts will step in. As I understand the situation, neither of these affect you adversely. . . To me it seems, under the circumstances, most deplorable, or rather unfortunate that the A—s have taken such a fancy to the boy, and are unwilling now to give him up. He is a very fine boy, I am told, and will make a fine man. But I cannot see their position, and fail to get their angle.

In the event that you determine to bring a writ of habeas corpus proceeding for your boy, you must make good preparations in advance. You must be prepared to show the court most forcibly that you are a fit person to keep him; that your wife is anxious to have him, that you are amply able to support and school him; that you are not financially cramped, and all that sort of thing. It will take witnesses, and good ones. . . As a tip I might say that Mr. H— of this city is somewhere in Hot Springs now, in one of the hotels or sanitariums, I presume. I would say absolutely nothing to him about the trouble over the boy, but I would make a special effort to have him out to the house and let it get to him that your people are good people and financially able, and that you have a good home, and favorable surroundings, etc. Make a friend of him, and later we might use him advantageously. The B— s go down there in Arkansas somewhere. Keep an eye for the Greencastle people, and if convenient let them all see how you are fixed. You know what I mean.

I sympathize with you in your trouble. If such a condition came to me I would be fighting mad. But we must absolutely refrain from showing any anger. That weakens a man's case. Respectfully,

NO CHARGE

Greencastle, Indiana
March 16, 1927
Honorable E. Harold Van Orman
Lieutenant Governor of Indiana Evansville, Indiana

My dear Van:
I am just in receipt of a copy of your "epistle". . .

I want to move that the latter part of your fifth paragraph be made more specific—that part pertaining to the extension of the hospitality of your hotel. Does that mean with or without remuneration? And whether or not it means the invitee's family? A favorable construction on your part might lead to the culmination of our going en masse next Summer on a pilgrimage . . .

Finally, I would advise you that we are safely ensconced at 309 E. Seminary Street, this city, and in your seeking the Primary suffrages of the Putnam County and Greencastle constituency for Gubernatorial preferences, we would urgently convey the knowledge that our palatial home is in the exact center of the City and a house to house canvass can be most advantageously made, using our manse as a radius—with our compliments (Meaning, in the vernacular, "no charge"). As ever,

THE COSTS OF PUBLIC OFFICE

December 21, 1927
Mr. James D. Wilson
New Richmond, Indiana

My dear Mr. Wilson:
I am in receipt of your very considerate letter. . .

It is a satisfaction to hear now and then that one has the approval and support of the people who gave him his job— especially in a legislative way. . . It is so much harder to oppose money spending than it is to support it—so much more difficult to fight the creation of new boards, commissions and bureaus than it is to aid in bringing them into existence. And the crowd or lobby or whatever you call it who are fostering these expenditures always on hand during the Session to make it hot and unpleasant for anyone who opposes them, while the people who have to pay most of the bill are back home so busily engaged fighting clods, weather and pests, in order to get enough money ahead to pay these additional taxes, they haven't time to be loafing around a Legislative Session. . .

As to my being a candidate for re-election again, I doubt it, although I most sincerely appreciate your offer of support. That is what elected me—Republican support. But the truth is, as much as I like Legislative work .. . . if I continue in politics, I ought to try for an office that pays more money. I am in very moderate circumstances, financially; have a family of six children, five of them girls, and the oldest a girl ready for college next year, and you probably know what that means. Some think I was grandstanding and getting ready to run again, when I sent that $292 back to the State. But it wasn't at all. I sent it back simply because it was absolutely and unqualifiedly un- Constitutional, regardless of what our State Supreme Court says; and for the further reasons that I was elected knowing my salary would be $6 per day, that I had opposed salary increases during the term of office all my legislative career and could see no good excuse for exempting myself from that rule, and for the further reason that our agricultural interests were in such a deplorable condition they couldn't be asked to stand any salary increase—however much I needed, or would have liked to have it myself. And I hear that by reason of my having sent the excess salary back I have incurred the displeasure of a considerable number of my Democratic colleagues, who expect to try to see to it that I am not re-elected Dem. Floor Leader next Session. And so it goes. . . Most Respectfully,

HIS OPINIONS CARRY WEIGHT

(Excerpt from a letter sent by Indiana State Forester R. F.
Wilcox to Charles Barnaby, of Greencastle, March 11, 1929)

The Senate passed our LaFuze Bill which appropriates $100,000 a year to this Department for our nursery program and acquiring land for state forests. This means great things for the future lumber industries of the state, and of course all of the citizens of Indiana. . .

During the discussion, when the boys were getting away off the track, pro and con, Senator Durham demanded the floor and made a statement which carried more weight than all the other arguments put together. He said that Charlie Barnaby had been in the lumber business for 40 years and probably knew more about hardwood trees than anyone else in the country. . . He said you wrote him that this positively was a good bill and they had better take your advice and pass it. Senator Durham discriminates very closely, I have noticed, in the matter of legislation. . . and I have noticed that the other members of the Senate give his opinions serious consideration. You are to be congratulated on having such a splendid man to represent you.

AS GOOD AS WILL ROGERS

(Excerpt from the Service Club Grenade, newsletter of the Service
Club of Indianapolis, Feb. 16, 1929)

We confess our inability to make even a pretense of reporting the talk given the club last Monday by Senator Durham. It was understood that the senator hailed from Greencastle, but this was an error. His home is in Russellville, where according to his own admission, there "ain't a golf ball or a pair of pajamas in the whole damn town."

Senator Durham is one of "God's Chosen Minority," as he himself admits. Invitations to speak before this club and that led him to believe for a while that he was an orator, but he finally came to the conclusion that demands for his public appearance were made because, as a Democrat, he was quite a curiosity.

Give Senator Durham a wad of gum and a rope, and he would be as good as his fellow Democrat, Will Rogers. He entertained the club, had everybody in an uproar, for a full half hour with his tales about the characters in his home town.

Those who stayed away Monday missed one of the most enjoyable meetings we have had in a long time, even if the Lincoln Hotel lost no money on the lunch.

THE HAZARDS OF TRYING A COME-BACK

Greencastle, Indiana
July 2, 1930
Mr. Claud E. Fix
Shelbyville, Indiana

My dear Mr. Fix: I received your very kind letter of May 30th, relative to a proposed oratorical "come back" on my part before a Shelbyville audience. I say "come back" because I was the alleged speaker of the evening with the Shelbyville Rotary Club in May of this year. It may happen you have heard of that disaster, and are charitably giving me an opportunity to redeem myself in the eyes of Shelbyville people. Your surname indicates such. . .

Experience has taught me a repetition is generally more dangerous even than a first offense. It is in law, and it generally is in other things. Let me illustrate from my own experience.

Years ago, my home town, Russellville, Indiana, had a home talent company. In fact, we have had many of them. The town and community was surfeited with them. The epidemic would break out, die down, and then break out afresh. Warner Kinkead was the cause of most of it. Warner was our self-imposed "leading man" on all and every occasion. For one thing, he was a bit older, but his principal claim to "stardom" was due to the fact he had spent two years away from Russellville, and was therefore more sophisticated and worldly-wise. The rest of us had ventured no farther than an annual pilgrimage to Crawfordsville for the County Fair. . .

Warner's parents had emigrated to Kansas. The second year the grasshoppers "took them," with the result they all came back to Russellville, and along with Warner came a "make-up" box which he had in some manner acquired, together with a yearning for a theatrical career. Therefore, he was an actor, none could successfully dispute. He had the evidence. Warner put on many home talents, advertised under the auspices of the Rathbon's Sisters, the Mt. Pisgah Aid Society or other neighborhood organizations.

From a comparatively modest beginning, we aspired to greater things—harder plays and more cast. Warner soon learned the more there were in the cast, the more doting fathers and mothers, aunts and uncles, would turn out in the audience to see and admire his uncanny histrionic abilities.

Eventually, we assayed a tragedy—an unavailing struggle against fate. "Sea Drift" was the name of our first—and last—tragedy. The climax was to come in the 8th or 9th Scene of the 10th or 12th Act, when in point of actual time it would be after midnight and our remaining audience (those who, of necessity, had to stay to take 95% of the cast home in time to help with breakfast or the milking) either somnolent or clear "gone."

The script went like this: The heroine is stranded on a bit of driftwood far out on the storm-tossed sea. From the lighthouse the startling cry rings out: "A fair maiden in dire peril in the sea beyond the breakers! Oh, Oh! Who will save her?"

"I will save her, or lose my life!" responds the hero (Warner), who thereupon hurls himself into the angry waves from a beetling cliff. A fearful struggle ensues between man and watery elements (ably aided and abetted by several bucketsful of real water from the wings). The maiden is rescued and brought to shore, but for some reason known only to the author the effort is too much for the hero. With a choked and exhausted murmur, "Call her Sea Drift. She is God's gift from the sea," he then and there expires from overexertion and exposure.

This called for an ocean scene—a considerable of an ocean scene— and none of us had ever seen it. But we had read geographies and seen pictures, and Uncle Bud Nichols had several stereopticon views of the ocean at its worst. The Clodfelter girls sewed long strips of sheeting together and Jess Carrington, our local barn painter, painted the result of their labors to look like what he, in his artistic mind, thought the sea ought to look like. We borrowed two hand-power blacksmith's bellows from Fred Fink's blacksmith shop to put at either wing, and under the loosely-laid sheeting. The bellows pumped air underneath, thus causing undulation after undulation, making what we though was a most realistic semblance of the ocean in active operation. My particular part, among others, in this theatrical venture, was to operate one of these bellows, and operate it like "hell," as Warner said, at the proper time.