Sunday, July 6, 2014

Chapter Three: Road Trip


After exhausting all the leads I could find locally, I decided to take a trip through the state of Georgia to see what else I could discover about Jack. During my spring break, I rented a car and traveled to several locations that had a connection to Jack’s life. With only three days to complete my tour, I had to keep a tight schedule.

I learned through subsequent conversations with Penelope that Jack was sent to military school. I contacted Georgia Military College in Milledgeville. According to records, this is where Jack attended high school. I arranged a visit to the campus and a meeting with the Librarian of Special Collections, Jane Simpson. We had a lively discussion about the traditions associated with the military school. With some hunting around, Jane found a few of the rosters and yearbooks that included Jack’s name, as well as his graduation record.

Penelope said, “I can’t think that most children want to go to military school. I mean, I think they get sent.” Roy must have decided it would be best for Jack’s upbringing to go to military school. There is no evidence to suggest Jack was sent to military school as a form of punishment. However, this could have been the case.

Jack was listed as a member of Band Company. Records indicate that Jack graduated in 1933, at the age of 17. However, he also shows up on the roster for academic year 1934-35. By 1932 Georgia Military College had added a two-year college program to its curriculum. He likely returned for his first year of college before transferring to the University of Georgia.

Not much is known about the specifics of Jack’s life in military school. However, there were many traditions that he would have encountered as a cadet. At that time, the school was an all-male institution. If a cadet were on a date with a girl from Georgia State College for Women (presently Georgia College and State University) the young man had to have a date slip filled out in triplicate. One copy went to the Guard House, one copy went to the House Mother of the women’s college and the third copy had to be in the cadet’s pocket. If a cadet were walking downtown he could be approached by campus security patrol at any time and asked to show the permission slip. If a cadet had a date with a girl from the women’s college, he would go to her dorm and stand on the opposite side of the street. When the young lady came downstairs, she would walk on the opposite side of the street until they reached the movie theater. Then they met, went inside and watched the movie. When the evening was over, they walked on opposite sides of the street back to her dormitory. The cadet would wait outside until the lady was inside for the night.

Cadets had to travel in pairs if they left campus and remain in uniform at all times. Every weekend there were inspections and parades. Throughout the year there were drill competitions between the companies. The most highly motivated cadets from each company would compete to see who could out-drill the others. There were also class plays and musical events.

I found myself closely relating with some of what Jack must have experienced. I, too, had gone to military school for high school. I went to Marion Military Institute. Similar to GMC, MMI had a sister school, Judson College. I imagine MMI cadets followed a similar dating protocol in the years before the school became co-educational. GMC and MMI are approximately the same age, they both have similar traditions and they both have had to make some fundamental changes in recent years to cope with a lowering demand for a traditional military school experience.

Mary and Evelyn grew up and went through high school in Boston. They must have enjoyed a certain social status, attending cotillions and dances. Mary Adams wed Earl Thomas Mayo by 1938. Together, they had three children— Tommy, Mary Ann and Jimmy Mayo. In 1943 Evelyn married Thomas Coke Penland, a descendant of Thomas Coke, the first Methodist Bishop and Father of Methodist Missions.  Together they had two daughters, Penelope and Deanna Penland.

In 1936 Jack enrolled in the University of Georgia at Athens, having been awarded a scholarship from the Athens Art Association. As one of only a handful of art students, he was mentored by Annie May Holiday. During the same year he also drew Manhattan Morning, as well as portraits of actress Gail Patrick and President Franklin D. Roosevelt.  It is unclear whether Jack drew these for class assignments or whether he did them on his own.

By the mid-1930s several universities were participating in the Extension Program of the Department of Agriculture, part of the WPA (Works Project Administration). John Steuart Curry, Paul Sample, Frank Mechau, Dale Nichols and Thomas Hart Benton were installed in art programs around the country. Hugh Hudgson, from the University of Georgia, invited Lamar Dodd to be an artist-in-residence at UGA in 1937. Hudgson promised to raise the budget for the art department and allow Dodd to grow the department as he saw fit.

When Dodd arrived he found the art department was housed in the basement of an old building, and there were three different art teachers spread out in three different academic divisions. One was in the Division of Agricultural, one in the Department of Home Economics and another was working as the fine arts teacher in the Department of Art. There were only nine students with art as their declared major.

In his second year teaching at the University of Georgia, at age 27, Dodd became the head of the Department of Art. He consolidated the department and brought in the three other teachers. He also brought in well-known guest artists to speak, demonstrate and lecture. Jean Charlot, Thomas Hart Benton and John Held are just a few of the artists he invited. Boardman Robinson, Dodd’s former teacher, came to lecture in 1938. After a few years he started an art auction of student work as a fundraiser for the department. Dodd also arranged for student work to be hung in local businesses. He later secured internships for students to design bedspreads and bath mats that were produced by the local textile mills.

Dodd did not allow any copying from pictures or casts in his classes. Drawing and painting were taught using only live models, still lifes and plein air. Drawing from life was taught as the foundation of all other artistic practice. Dodd organized weekend sketching trips. He began the practice of painting and drawing alongside his students.

“Drawing is before all else.” –Lamar Dodd

Among the many drawings in Jack’s sketchbooks were rural scenes from around Athens. Giles Country Store, perhaps a location in Athens when Jack was in school, was found in one such drawing. Factories, strip mines and old houses were also the subjects of many of Jack’s drawings. So, too, were his fellow students. There are also two sketches of a man painting a watercolor. One of them has the word “Poon” written off to the side. On one quirky page, the name Gladys Lantz is written backwards in cursive. This was likely something Gladys herself did to amuse Jack. There are two renderings of a graduating class in the midst of being photographed. The name of his half-sister, Evelyn Adams, appears several times throughout the sketchbooks.

Several items found in the sketchbooks suggest that Jack took a trip to New York as a student. One drawing of an amusement park included a sign with the name Palisades. This likely refers to the Cyclone found at Palisades Park in Cliffside Park, New Jersey. A couple of sketches of people riding the subway and two sketches of a city market were in the same sketchbook. A pamphlet from Robinson Galleries, 126 East 57 Street, was tucked between the last few pages. There was a crudely drawn map on the cover. It was to a jewelry store at 36 E 65th Street. 

I traveled to Athens to visit the campus of the University of Georgia and the Georgia Museum of Art, but first I stopped by the Athens Public Library to review its records. With assistance from one of the librarians at the circulation desk, I found a shelf stacked with UGA Pandora Yearbooks dating all the way back to when Jack was in school at the university. In them I found Jack’s class pictures, fraternity profile and listing in the art department.

Jack graduated in 1938 with a Bachelor of Art Degree. According to the yearbooks, from 1936-1938 he was a member of Phi Delta Theta fraternity. During his last two years, he was also a member of the Kappa Pi Honor Society for art students. Officers of the Kappa Pi organization included: Henry Maddin, President; Raymond McMahon, Vice-President; Mary Paul Glenn, Secretary; Gladys Lantz, Treasurer. Lamar Dodd was the faculty advisor.

I arrived at the University of Georgia Special Collections Library in the morning, shortly after it opened. I had to complete several online forms in order to request the documents I wanted and gain access to the viewing room. After nearly an hour of that process, I was finally granted entry. Once inside, the formalities continued. My document request form was sent down to the vault. From the basement, by elevator, a man pushed a flatbed cart loaded with archival boxes and folios. The cart was wheeled to the front desk, at which time I was summoned. For reasons of security I was only allowed access to one box or folder at a time.

The ritual of it all made the experience more profound. I sat in the sterile room for several hours and combed through a treasure trove of artifacts relating to Lamar Dodd, from letters and photos to exhibition announcements and catalogues, piece by piece. It was exhilarating to sift through all the remnants of a long life well lived. Unfortunately, I only found a couple of documents that directly related to Jack, including one paragraph in a letter to Dodd from Alan Kuzmicki. In the process I learned so much more and gained a greater appreciation for the art and teaching methods of Lamar Dodd.

Throughout his long, distinguished career, Dodd inspired many of his students to become professional artists and art educators. More than half of Jack’s fellow students went on to have regional success as artists and teachers.

Alan Kuzmicki began his master’s degree studies in ceramics during summer school at The Ohio State University in 1939. A letter he wrote to Dodd, found in the UGA archives, is rich with descriptions of his studies. He even included six wallet size photographs of campus life. There are also reflections on what Dodd had taught him. In one passage Alan writes, “Making a pot is just as much a creative act as working in any other medium, provided it too is approached in the same spirit.” His letter continues, “It’s just as you say, art is the same no matter how you take it. There is only the good and the bad.”

Mary Paul Glenn became a lifelong teacher. She was a professor of art at Limestone College in Gaffney, South Carolina. She taught in the city school system in Birmingham, Alabama. She later taught in Georgia State College for Women in Milledgeville, the sister school to Georgia Military College. Glenn also published several works on art education theory.

Augusta Oelschig taught at Auburn University during World War II. In 1946 she opened her own art school in Savannah, Georgia. She moved to New York, where she exhibited for several years. In 1962 she returned to Savannah. Later in life she received commissions to create public artwork.

Julia Ann Gilman was originally from Chattanooga, Tennessee. After graduating from the University of Georgia, she married and moved to Montgomery, Alabama.  By 1940, Gilman stopped painting and focused on raising her children. In 1963, after her youngest son, Gil, left for college, Julia began painting again. On their property in Montgomery, Alabama there was a pastor’s study and guest lodge, which she converted into a studio by 1963. She began painting again and joined several art associations in Montgomery, Troy and Fairhope, Alabama. With the support of her husband, Julia traveled to workshops and retreats all over the Southeast. She taught classes and exhibited her work extensively. Julia was primarily a portrait and landscape artist.

Gil is now a dentist living in Florence, Alabama. As it happens, my wife, Lori, is a native of Florence. On a trip to visit Lori’s family I met with Gil to see and talk about his mother’s artwork. He shared several notebooks full of photographs and newspaper clippings from her long life in art.

Perhaps the most successful of Dodd’s students from those early years was Reuben Gambrell. Reuben began his studies the year after Jack graduated. During his time as a student, Reuben also received a commission to paint a mural for the post office in Rockmart, Georgia, after winning Honorable Mention in the Federal Mural Exhibition at the Corcoran Gallery, Washington, DC. The commissioned painting was entitled “Kiln Room, Cement Plant” and was installed in 1941. That same year Reuben received the first Master of Fine Arts Degree ever awarded at the University of Georgia. In 1942, Reuben was drafted into the Army.

Dodd arranged an exhibit of Reuben’s drawings and watercolors sent back from the jungles of the Pacific theater in World War II. The exhibit was held in 1944 at the Corcoran Gallery. After the war, Reuben taught for some years at the University of Georgia before relocating to Columbia, South Carolina, where he taught privately and continued to exhibit his own work.

My breath that fogged your window
The last light slipping behind treetops
A lamppost on an empty street

Lamar Dodd encouraged his students to join the local and regional art associations after they graduated. This was a good way for them to be in touch with other artists and to have consistent exhibitions of their work. Jack took the advice and was a member of three such organizations: Association of Georgia Artists, Athens Art Association and Southern States Arts League.

“Strive to engage the public in art as a matter of civic duty.” –Lamar Dodd

To backtrack for a moment, before driving from Milledgeville to Athens I took a detour to the Macon Public Library to visit the archives pertaining to the Association of Georgia Artists. I scrambled through all the materials looking for any mention of Jack. The archivist was extremely helpful, fetching boxes and arranging materials for me. In those records I learned more about the extent of Dodd’s influence on art in the state. There were also exhibition records that included Jack’s work.  It was interesting to see how many of Jack’s fellow students were also involved.

The Association of Georgia Artists, based in Macon, was an active group during the mid-20th Century. In October of 1939, a list of artwork submitted to the 11th Exhibit of the Association of Georgia Artists included Jack as having his painting “Grain Elevator” accepted. Another list of rejected works listed the title “Factory” by Jack Adams. A roster of the active members of the Association of Georgia Artists for 1940 lists Jack as living in Athens, at 332 Milledge Hall.

Notable members of the Association of Georgia Artists who exhibited with Jack in the 11th Exhibit included: Edward Shorter of Columbus, who became Director of Columbus Museum of Art; George Beattie, Jr. from Macon, who studied at Art Student’s League and Yale, and was commissioned to create mural for Macon Post Office; Emma C. Wilkins, of Savannah, a prominent artist and educator who studied at Academia Coarossie in Paris; Hattie Saussy from Savannah, who worked at Friedman’s Art Store; George Cress, who was born in Anniston, Alabama, later taught in Chattanooga before moving to Athens, Georgia.

As it turns out, after showing me the collection of Pandora Yearbooks, the librarian at the Athens Public Library had also directed me to bound copies of records from the Athens Art Association. In the minutes of the September 1939 meeting the following upcoming events were listed: the November meeting was scheduled as a reception for the exhibit of the 11th Exhibit of the Association of Georgia Artists, in which Jack took part. The December meeting was scheduled to include a lecture by Lamar Dodd. The meeting in January of 1940 featured an artist demonstration by Alan Kuzmicki and Reuben Gambrell.

After my time at the UGA Special Collections Library, I was hoping to walk through the current exhibits at the Georgia Museum of Art. I also planned to visit the art department, situated next door to the museum. I drove from the library to the fine arts area of the campus. After circling right past the entrance to the museum parking deck several times, I was finally able to spot it.

I had an appointment with Paul Manoguerra, Chief Curator at the Georgia Museum of Art. We met for nearly an hour. I showed him some of the documents and letters I had gathered from my trip thus far. He was extremely accommodating. In our conversation he did much to expand my understanding of Dodd’s legacy. Paul shared what he knew about some of the names of Jack’s contemporaries who kept appearing in my research. Before he left for another meeting, he gave me copies of several books that had been published by the museum. One of the books was a thorough examination of Lamar Dodd’s art and influence. 

It was interesting to compare my notes from the archives to what was written in the book. One detail in the book was particularly exciting. Partly as a way of engaging his students, and also to appease gallery demands, Dodd began painting portraits of many of his students. In 1938, Dodd painted a portrait of Jack entitled simply, “Jack”. It received a special award in portraiture at the 17th Annual Art Exhibition of the McDowell Club in New York that same year. “Portrait of a Graduate Student”, a painting of Reuben Gambrell seated with an open book, was also painted that same year. A portrait of Mac Richey, painted in 1944, was later sold to a private collector.

Penelope had told me about the painting prior to the exhibit of Jack’s work. She had included a photograph of it in the materials she sent to me. After some investigating I tracked down the location of it. Much of the reason I was heading to LaGrange was to see the portrait of Jack for myself.

I waited until the evening to drive to LaGrange. Since I knew I would be passing through Atlanta I wanted to avoid the rush hour traffic. It was nearly 10 o’clock by the time I finally reached the outskirts of the LaGrange. I found a cheap hotel by the highway and settled in for the evening.

The next morning I met with John Lawrence, Director of the Lamar Dodd Art Center at LaGrange College. He spent several hours with me talking about the history of the art center. He walked me through an exhibit of Dodd’s later paintings from Monhegan, Maine.  Compared to Dodd’s earlier work, the paintings of seascapes and fishermen were loose and wildly expressive. He used gobs of paint to create a thick impasto on the surface of his canvases. The subjects became abstracted into fierce shapes charged with dynamism.

John explained that in his first year at LaGrange College, he was asked by the president of the school to approach Dodd upon his retirement from UGA and ask him to donate a painting to the school. Dodd enthusiastically obliged and ended up donating more that one hundred works. Through generous support of local organizations, monies were secured to build a center fit for housing the extensive collection.

After our tour through the art center John and I caravanned to the LaGrange Public Library to visit the portrait of Jack. We found it hanging in the conference room behind the circulation desk. John mentioned that, in fact, he had been asked to clean and restore the painting for the library some years earlier. He helped me take the piece off the wall and photograph it.

At the UGA Special Collections Library I had run across a series of four letters addressed to Dodd from Hatton Lovejoy, dating from June to July 1940. They were in reference to Mr. Lovejoy buying the portrait of Jack and subsequently donating it the LaGrange Public Library. This was a special honor since LaGrange was Dodd’s hometown. The letters also outline the arrangements for Dodd to meet and stay with Mr. Lovejoy over a weekend during which their painting would be ceremoniously bequeathed to the library. Both Mr. and Mrs. Dodd were scheduled to attend.

The image of the painting that Penelope had sent for the exhibition was a scan of a faded black-and-white photograph of the portrait of Jack. I did not expect to see a painting so vibrant and colorful. It was lustrous and rich with earth tones. The details of Jack’s outfit were exquisitely rendered. The stretched canvas itself sat in a gold frame with a small brass placard for the title. I could see why this portrait won an award when it was exhibited in 1938.

After graduation, Jack was offered the opportunity to teach the following year at Shellman School through the Extension Program at the University of Georgia, funded by the WPA. He was expected to teach art to all primary and secondary grades in the school. 

The last place I stopped on my tour through Georgia was the tiny town of Shellman. When I arrived in the little town I was initially rather bewildered by the lack of people and functioning businesses. I couldn’t find anyone to ask for directions. I finally located the City Hall. The receptionist was able to draw a crude map to the grounds where the Shellman School once stood. I also found the building that originally housed the post office. The receptionist also directed me to Cuthbert, a town about ten miles away.

At the Cuthbert Public Library, I met a woman named Barbara. She took the time to put me in touch with Ann Bynum, her friend who lived in Shellman. From Ms. Bynum I was able to find out more about Jack’s short stint as a teacher.

According to Ann Bynum, Jack stayed on the second floor of a boarding house at 3559 Pearl Street in Shellman. He lived with another male teacher who has not been identified.

Daisy Crittenden lived across the street from the boarding house where Jack stayed. Four of the female teachers lived in Daisy’s house. She earned a little money in those days by boarding and preparing meals for the teachers in town. Daisy had a housekeeper and cook, named Em, who worked for her. Jack and his roommate would take their evening meals at Daisy’s house with the other teachers. Daisy loved entertaining. Her guests would stay for hours. Lively discussions and music would carry on into the evening.

Daisy’s son, Carter Critenden, was in the 4th grade and was a student of Jack’s. Carter told the story of a time in class when Jack drew a picture of a train. The class all said, “That’s a daytime train. Now draw a night train.” Perhaps the day and evening trains carried different goods, or one was shorter than the other. Whatever the differences were, Jack obliged and drew another train.

Ann also gave me the name of Sarah Curry, one of Jack’s students, who was still alive.  Sarah remembered Jack as a good teacher. She was a young girl at the time, probably in eighth. Sarah recalled a fellow classmate of hers, Richard Stewart. Everyone called Richard by the nickname, “Monkey”. Richard got his nickname when he was a toddler. One time when he was about two years old Richard pulled one of the straight-back chairs in the dining room over to the large table. He somehow managed to scale the chair and hoist himself on to the dining room table. It was there, in the middle of the table, where his mother discovered him holding her white ceramic sugar bowl, polishing off the last of the sugar. When she found him on the table she exclaimed, “You little monkey!”

Monkey’s cousin, Fred Stewart, was also in Sarah’s class. One time Fred drew a picture of the Shellman Peanut Mill. Jack apparently really liked the drawing and showed it off to his other classes.  Some years later, Fred committed suicide in the middle of the grocery store where he was a manager.

Charles Ward was another student who showed a talent for drawing and painting. He later became a doctor and located his practice in Dawson, Georgia, not far from his hometown. According to his wife, Mary, Charles continued painting and also took up woodcarving. Later in life, he liked to carve and decorate the stocks of his hunting rifles.

From these interviews I got a pretty good sense of what Jack’s life would have been like while he was teaching. In some ways I could see why Jack decided to quit his teaching appointment after only one year. It must have been grueling trying to teach every grade with limited resources and little space. The tiny community, no matter how welcoming, must have felt suffocating. He was a young man with big dreams fettered to a place so far from everything he wanted.  

The letters written by Dodd that Penelope had sent to me for the exhibition also held many clues to Jack’s life after he graduated from UGA. Most of the letters are addressed to Jack while he was in Shellman. They reveal some of the details of his life as a teacher in a small rural community.

In his first letter to Jack, dated August 31, 1938, Dodd encourages Jack to find his own way and make a difference in the community. Because Jack’s appointment was made possible through the Extension Program at University of Georgia, he received funds for materials and supplementary items along with a living stipend.  Dodd wrote, “I imagine that these will come in handy, but do not depend too much on other people’s notes. You have a good mind and use it.” As a final note of reassurance, Dodd concludes his message, “Needless to say, I know that you shall enjoy your work next year. You can and will do grand things there. I am bettin’ on you old man.”

This letter, like all the ones Dodd sent to Jack in Shellman, was simply addressed to Mr. Denzil Roy Adams, Jr., Shellman, GA. Jack would have gone to the post office to collect his mail. There was no need for a street address at that time.

Dodd’s second letter, dated September 6, 1938, seems to suggest Jack is enjoying his appointment. He wrote playfully, “You will pardon the informality of not addressing you as Professor, won’t you?” Dodd mentioned letters that Jack sent to him. “I am delighted you like it there. Many times during the day I have thought of Jack and his first grade students.” Later in the note there is evidence that Jack intended to continue painting. Dodd wrote, “Glad to hear you intend to start your own work. You can’t afford to drop it.” Dodd follows up by encouraging Jack to join the Association of Georgia Artists.

In his letter from September 16, 1938, Dodd mentioned an exhibition of his work scheduled at the High Museum, in Atlanta, from November 15-30, 1938. He also mentioned the growth of the art department. Jack was among the first students Dodd taught at University of Georgia. By the time Jack graduated, the department was already growing exponentially. Dodd wrote, “I have a wonderful student from South Carolina. He finished S.C. last year and will be here for a year to carry on his studying.” The student he was referring to was Reuben Gambrell.  Dodd continued, “Mary Paul is helping with freshman registration and Alan is on that Education Conference at Lakemont.”

More evidence that Jack was continuing to engage in creative work and teaching comes as Dodd assures him, “I had those hand-ground colors sent to you.” He added, “I think I sent you one or two new colors, including Prussian blue. You will like that, and it is safe to use.”

After little more than a month into his teaching, Jack seemed to be getting great results from his students. On September 27, 1938 Dodd wrote, “The drawings arrived yesterday and I must admit they were encouraging. The textile patterns were all good.” Dodd goes on to say, “I liked the lightening picture, the little red truck and the playground scene.” To keep Jack abreast of his fellow students, Dodd mentioned, “Eleanor is opening a studio in Savannah and is assisting the Supervisor of Art in schools.”

Jack visited Athens during his Thanksgiving break. On December 6, 1938, Dodd wrote him to wish him well during his second semester. At this time, Dodd was gearing up to curate a select group of artists from Georgia to represent the state in the Regional exhibition of art at the World’s Fair Bulletin. Dodd encouraged his students to enter the jury selection. Evidence from throughout his life suggests Jack probably did not take his art making as seriously as he could have. Dodd insists, “Jack, won’t you ever learn to do anything on time? If you will read the World’s Fair bulletin you will discover that the paintings are to be in Virginia by the 10th of December, not the 15th.” There is no evidence that Jack’s work, if he managed to send it on time, was juried into the exhibition. What is known is that Dodd was accepted. Dodd continued to support Jack’s efforts in teaching, “Mr. Webb, the Binney and Smith man, can aid you in many ways I am sure.”

In the previously mentioned letter from Alan Kuzmicki to Lamar Dodd was the following passage, “With Mac, Henry and Jack all there it must feel like old times, eh? I’m sorry about Jack, but this gives you a good chance to see who’s worthy and more interested.” The letter was dated July 6, 1939. It seems probable that Jack quit his teaching appointment in Shellman after one year. Jack likely moved back to Athens to work and continue to surround himself with the influence of Dodd and others. Indeed, the document from the Association of Georgia Artists lists his address in Athens at this time.

Nearly a year and a half passed before Dodd wrote another letter to Jack. No envelope accompanied Dodd’s letter dated July 15, 1940. Jack’s location at that time is unknown. However, the letter was probably sent to Boston.  This suggests that Jack moved back and forth between Athens and Boston after leaving Shellman. In the letter, Dodd mentioned the portrait he had painted of Jack in 1938. Dodd wrote, “You shared glory with me in my home town the past week for I sold the portrait of you to Mr. Lovejoy for the Library and they had all the functions described in the paper I am sending.”

Dodd concluded this letter to Jack with a curious message. He wrote, “Let me know how you like Sternberg. Make notes of worth while things— I believe you will be glad of this in the future.” There is no other mention of a location or person by that name in any materials.

The last letter that Jack received from Lamar Dodd was dated October 8, 1940. It was addressed to Jack Adams, c/o Company I, 121st Inf. (Rifle), Camp Jackson, Columbia, South Carolina.  The letter suggests that Jack left Athens some months earlier. Dodd opens his note, “I had wondered what had become of you and needless to say the information in your letter proved surprising. From what you said when you left Athens, I imagined that you were painting this year.” In a display of compassion, Dodd follows, “I know that the Army will prove interesting though it does take up much of your time. In all probability most of us will be there before too long.”

Later in the letter, Dodd mentioned that John Held, the nationally recognized illustrator, was working as a guest artist in the budding art department.  He also included news that Jack’s former classmates, Henry, Mack and Mary Paul were doing well in their artwork.

Dodd concluded this final letter with a brief mention that his painting, “View of Athens” won second place at the World’s Fair. This is particularly interesting because all current scholarship only includes Dodd’s more famous work, “Copperhill” in the catalogue of art that was exhibited at the 1939 World’s Fair in New York.

Conflicting details about Jack’s life have made it difficult to pinpoint the timing of certain events. After he left Shellman, Jack likely spent time in Athens, and back home in Boston. What is known is that Jack joined the Army sometime in late 1940 or early 1941. The last letter from Dodd, dated October 8, 1940, was addressed to Jack c/o Company I, 121st Infantry, Camp Jackson, Columbia, South Carolina. However, his service records indicate he enlisted March 1, 1941.  Jack may have entered training at Camp Jackson, and then officially signed on for service afterward. In either case, Jack entered the service before the Unites States was involved in World War II. On December 7, 1941, Japan launched an airstrike on Pearl Harbor, after which the United States declared war. 

Chapter Four: Penelope


I felt like my trip through Georgia was a great success. I learned so much about the history and culture of the area. My understanding of Jack’s life from growing up in Boston to going away to military school and then to college was rich with detail. However, I still had no notion of what Jack’s life was like or where he lived after leaving Shellman. I had been corresponding with Penelope since the exhibit. She had told me Jack was in the Army during World War II. He lived for a short time in Athens after the war, when she was a baby. At some point after that Jack moved to New York and lived there for the rest of his life. I could tell Penelope had more to share. I also still held out hope that I would learn more about his art. The lure of finding out more about Jack’s life drew me to Santa Fe, New Mexico. 

I decided to take a Greyhound bus trip out to Santa Fe to meet Penelope and see her collection of Jack’s personal things. It was a two-day bus ride from Tallahassee to reach Albuquerque. The itinerary included a layover of several hours in New Orleans. 

I arrived at the New Orleans bus station around six o’clock in the morning. The sun was just peaking out over the bay. The humid, briny air was beginning to warm up the sidewalk.  I walked about a mile from the station, through the French Quarter to Jackson Square. I found Café du Monde bustling with regulars. I sat down and ordered the usual fare. It was still as good as I remembered it. After nearly an hour of soaking up the coffee and charm, I wiped the last crumb of powdered sugar from my beard and settled my tab.

Sunrise in the quarter-
Jackson is sleeping off its hustlers and
Bums uncurl their legs from benches
Gypsy tarot fortune-tellers sit yawning
In lawn chairs searching their crystal balls
On card tables decorated with hand-painted signs

Street sweepers hose off Bourbon
Wash away what is left of the night before
Still leaking between the cobble stones
And teeth of storm drains

At Café du Monde the locals
Take their beignets and au lait before the
Trickle of tourists over-crowd them
A pair of Asian waitresses dressed like morning nurses
Crack pistachios in the corner between servings

Humidity is waking up now-
Neon signs burn the names of silent aching bars
No musicians around now-
They’ve retired- replaced by shirtless morning joggers

The liquor trucks line the alleys
Delivering tonight’s Rococo
Crates of onions and cabbages
Stack on the sidewalk unattended

A Great Dane walks alone down St. Charles
Trollies amble by on the heels of cyclists
And wrought iron laced balconies decorate
The long thin shadow of Katrina

I walked over to Canal Street and hailed a cab that took me over to Tulane University. With a little asking around, I found the building that housed the special collections archive. I ducked inside to escape the heat and sat on the carpet in the hallway for over an hour until the archives opened. 

Materials that belonged to the Southern States Art League, the last arts organization of which Jack was a member, were stored in the Archives Library at Tulane University.  When the doors were unlocked, I made my way to the front desk. After showing some identification I was able to fill out a document request form. Ten minutes later a cart holding all the boxes I had listed rolled up to the large wooden desk where I was seated. One by one I took each box off the cart and marked the documents I wished to scan.  It was a solemn affair, but still far more casual than my experience at the University of Georgia.

On April 8, 1940, a letter was sent to Jack from the Southern States Art League, asking him to verify that he accepted the conditions for exhibition of two of his works, a drawing entitled, “The Bridge” and the watercolor entitled, “Deserted House”. His work was chosen for the Eighteenth Circuit Exhibition. At the archives I found a single page in a file listed under his name. It was an artist bio sheet. In the files of several of his contemporaries, similar artist bio sheets were found. All of them were laminated and formatted similarly. These were probably text panels that accompanied the exhibit of the Southern States Art League.

Some familiar names were also included in that exhibition, including Jack’s first mentor at UGA, Professor Annie May Holliday; Reuben Gambrell, fellow UGA alumnus; Emma C. Wilkins; Edward Shorter; and Hattie Saussy. Another artist included in the exhibition was Seffen Thomas, a native of Bavaria, who was an accomplished sculptor in Atlanta.

After feverishly scanning all the documents I had to leave quickly to catch the next bus to Albuquerque. I hailed another cab on St. Charles and arrived at the bus station with just enough time to grab some lunch. As the bus drove further west, it became more and more packed with passengers. From Houston to Dallas to Amarillo, every seat was occupied. It was a grueling 18-hour-long odyssey. I learned to hold my body still enough to sleep for a few hours at a time.  I learned the pleasures of having earplugs.

East Texas
The land begins to stretch its legs
And flatten out into fields
Marred by vast distribution hubs
Further west is the oil country
Then factories and refineries
The rain boils into a mist
Stirred up and hanging above the
Asphalt ribbon that ties it all together

Not quite a wasteland but lonely enough
The dusk is swallowed by thick clouds

As the bus continued west, the summer heat gradually shifted from humid to arid.

Near Tucamcari
Mesas loom in the distance
Their sandy flat tops
Propping up the shifting
Blanket of clouds throwing
Shadows over them
The earth is bone and
Red-brown dust
Trailers huddle in clusters
Between cattle ranches
Like gatherings of stone

A dust devil materializes
In the middle of a junk yard
It picks up a black tarp
And whips it into the air
Above stacks of crushed cars
The tarp sails over the fence
And into the sand field
Slowly descending on a thicket

In the afternoon of the following day, I finally arrived at the Albuquerque airport. From there, I rented a car and drove up to Santa Fe. It was difficult to keep my bearings when I first arrived in Santa Fe. Every building was surfaced with pink stucco and molded to look like a pueblo. I finally stopped and ate a large dinner. I spent the night in a tiny hotel room with cheap Southwestern themed prints on the wall.

The next morning I met Penelope for breakfast in a quaint little neighborhood spot called Guadalupe Café. I arrived early, found a table on the patio and ordered a coffee. When Penelope arrived, she immediately insisted on switching tables three times to get just the right seat in the shade. She carried a pillow for her back in a thin canvas bag. My first impression of her was that she was quite eccentric, but very likable. We ate delicious food and talked about random things. I felt an instant kinship with her.

From the restaurant I followed Penelope back to her home. It was a gorgeous, two-story stucco house in a gated community. Art covered the walls, and sunlight bathed the large, open sitting room. Through the glass sliding doors at the back, I could see a lush garden of desert wildflowers and roses of every kind.

She showed me to the guest room downstairs, where I unpacked my things. While she ran around checking email, watering plants and getting changed, I took a shower and laid down for a nap.  I was still hung over from the bus ride. After a couple of hours getting re-organized and resting, it was time to leave again. She drove us downtown, where we spent the afternoon wandering through museums and galleries. We stopped in the city-square to see the Navajo peddlers. In the evening we attended a concert of Marimba music and ate gourmet pizza. By the time the evening was over, I was completely exhausted. I got the impression that this was how she lived her life, constantly moving from one excitement to another. I was amazed by her stamina and vitality.

On the morning of my second day in Santa Fe, Penelope cooked huge, fluffy frittatas. We sat under an umbrella in her garden and ate them with fruit and bread. She talked at length about her memories of childhood in Boston and of Jack, whom she visited often in New York. She brought out an old leather toiletry bag that was stuffed with Jack’s letters, ribbons and other memorabilia. We rummaged through all the treasures inside of it. I feverishly took notes on everything I could.

In utter contrast to the day before, it was a serene and peaceful time. There was stillness and calm. We talked through lunch and into the afternoon as we sat around her patio table.

Butterflies and hummingbirds
Light among the desert blooms
Sage grass and scarlet roses woven into braids
Violets dance on breezes
Holding open mouths limp with color
Calling nectar bees to kiss them

Penelope began by telling me what she knew about Jack’s life in the military.
According to Penelope, “Jack went up for the draft. I know Jack did not want to go. And his ulcers disqualified him. But, my grandfather insisted that it happen. The story that I have in my mind is that my grandfather contacted the local senator and got the deferment reversed, had them intervene and override the deferment so that Jack would go into the Army.” Ulcers also plagued Roy throughout his life. As he aged he had to have surgeries for them.

It is possible that Roy wanted Jack to join the military as a way of serving his country. Perhaps joining the military seemed a logical step after going to military school and graduating from college. Maybe the fact that Jack quit his teaching appointment after only one year was another determining factor. It is known that Roy managed a trust that was set up in Jack’s name by the Forster family. Perhaps Roy even threatened to withhold the money from the trust unless Jack agreed to serve. Whatever the motivation, Jack did serve in the military until 1946.

According to Jack’s service records, he served for a little over five years in various low-level supervisory roles. Indeed, from Penelope’s testimony, along with his Veterans Administration (VA) disability record and letters found in his personal effects, he spent much of his time in the hospital recovering from his ulcers. Camp Plauche, New Orleans, is where he served most, if not all, during his time in the military. When he did have furlough he probably spent it at home in Boston or traveling to New York. To be in the service for five years, during wartime, starting with the rank of 2nd Lieutenant and only rising to the rank of Captain, he certainly did not serve overseas or see any battle. He was also, most likely, not a very motivated officer.

What wicked devices we employ to temper the gears of our emotions.
This contraption twists my mouth into a smile.
This harness directs my hand to wave goodbye.

One of the items found in the toiletry bag was a postcard dated August 10, 1944. It reads:
Dear Mr. Adams- I got your check and letter in Hollywood and I thank you very much. You may take plenty of time for the decision concerning Stakim as the gallery is closed anyhow during the month of August. And Stakim is not for sale, except to you. I wish you could see my show of Klee from Los Angeles Private Collections here—it is one of the most important I ever had and I am sure you would enjoy it. 
Very sincerely yours,
Karl Nierendorf (from Hollywood, CA)
Karl Nierendorf Gallery, 53 East 57th Street, New York              

Stakim is the title of an abstract geometric painting by Paul Klee. It is oil on plaster and dated 1928. Jack obviously did not buy the piece. It is now in the collection of the Art Institute of Chicago.

This note suggests that whether or not Jack was creating art during this time, he had developed an interest in collecting it. It is also evidence that Jack must have traveled to New York several times throughout his years in the service.

Two very long letters from a friend and fellow officer were found among Jack’s personal effects. The first letter is dated 1944 and is addressed from Major JS Griffin, Fort Devens, MA, to Captain Denzil R. Adams, CO Mess Detail, Camp Plauche, New Orleans 12, LA. There are wonderful details about life on base. At the Officer’s Club Griffin watched Arsenic and Old Lace with some friends. He also discussed the training missions in which he participated.  He wrote, “We just got back off bivouac last week and I refuse to see how you used to be so delighted with field work.”

Griffin wrote about a radio DJ named Ol’ Kid who played swing jazz. “I have now dialed to Ol’ Kid from the Black Hawk who is sending with ‘The Very Thought of You’ and ‘Crazy Rhythm’. I can see the swing in music now is not to ‘swing’ but is to his style and others as Geo. Duffy, Geo. Hamilton, Henry King and all the others are being styled like that – so you should be ‘Out of This World’ – well, I kinda like it too.”

Griffin also mentioned a trip to New York he took on furlough. He wrote, “Then we heard Perry Como at the Paramount- boy! He can sure sing for my money especially when he sings ‘Goodbye Sue’ and ‘Sposin’’. What I like about him too is that he’s a man and darn good to look at.  Also got to hear Les Brown at the Café Rouge and Tony Pastor at the New Yorker.”

Swing is the
Expansion and contraction of time
The tension and friction and life force
That brings jazz into being

An unfortunate sign of the times, Griffin shares his dislike for African-American soldiers serving on base. He writes, “And quite naturally it TOUCHES me (in the wrong spot) to see their white faces up here cater to the nigs and the white barbers cutting their hair. They say though, that one grows immune to most anything over a period of time.”

I would like to think that Jack was immune to the tendencies toward racism that were so outwardly present in his time, but Jack was as much a product of his place and time as he was by trying to escape it. There is no evidence one way or the other as to whether Jack shared this viewpoint with Major Griffith. I would not be surprised if he did, though I secretly hope that he did not.

Perhaps the most compelling passage is regarding Jack and his involvement with a couple of women. Griffin wrote, “Sure wish I could have been there to attend with you and that sweetheart you have fallen for. Oh, yes, before leaving said camp, my dear fellow, who is the young lady you are courting nowadays? Someone said she worked there at Camp. Well, son you better mash the accelerator down on the love wagon, if you haven’t, you’ll be an old man ‘ere many moons and stomachs are gone. And have you been meddling in Marry Murray’s marriage matters again, or do you remember the name? Boy, if old age doesn’t catch you, wait till after the war to get married so you can be sure to stay with her.”

The second letter is addressed from Lt Col, J.S. Griffin, San Francisco, CA, 1 November 1945, to Capt. Denzil R. Adams Jr., HQ 22-5, Camp Plauche, New Orleans 12, LA. The letter includes a newspaper clipping from The Times-Picayune New Orleans. It shows an advertisement for Carl Ravazza and his orchestra opening at the Blue Room.

In the intervening months Griffin had taken a tour in Europe and received a promotion. He writes of his experience, “You would have gone crazy over it except for the 4 months in Belgium where we caught hell. Can’t say that the rations would have gone so well with ulcers as we have all had to lose them from time to time. Just before I begin the questions I’d rather tell you about a few things. After we sweated out the mud in Utah Beach we were ordered to Antwerp, Belgium. On Christmas night and New Years were about 15 feet underground between raids. We really had real hectic nights, which I’m sure you aren’t interested in here. But I distinctly recall how I wondered if you could by any chance be listening to Old Kid! Boy I’d sure love to hear him give out with ‘Nothing Like You’ or just anything for that matter. Of course I’d take Perry Como every day.”

On his tour, Griffin encountered many new experiences that seemed to open up his world. “We moved to Marseille, the cross-roads of the universe. There was every kind of uniform and people there from Abyssinians to Zulu and from Moroccans to monkeys. It made the French Quarter look like the acme of cleanliness and sanitation.”

In the letter there is further evidence that ulcers indeed, chronically plagued Jack. Griffin continued, “I ran into Reddix (from Plauche). Left there in July. Said the last he heard of you, you were in the hospital (again? –Damn!). And didn’t come back to Plauche. You should stay out of the Stable on St. Charles. You don’t know how nice it’d be though to have a Scotch and soda at the Stable or even the Blue Room with you.”

Toward the end of his letter, Griffin again brings up Jack’s relationship status. “Jack, are you married yet? Let me know. You’re reaching 30, you know. Have you been to New York lately?”

While these letters provide a glimpse into Jack’s life, they are also a compelling firsthand account of life during World War II from an officer’s perspective. Griffin was an officer in the Quarter Master Battalion, which supplied transportation and “organic” supply loads to infantry divisions. The reference to Utah Beach suggests he was involved in the Invasion of Normandy.

The atomic bomb attacks by the United States on Japan, effectively ending World War II, occurred on August 6 (Hiroshima), and August 9 (Nagasaki), 1945.

You are frozen there
Crazed and drooling
Ash-white face gaping open
Sockets as black as earth’s core
Every tendon cinched like wound cable
Is this the posture of oblivion?

Jack did not leave the Army until March 21, 1946. This was probably because he had to earn enough service points to qualify for honorable discharge. Points were accumulated based on amount of time in the service, rank achieved and the performance of certain duties. Given the details of Jack’s record, it probably took him that many years to qualify.