Today in Rip Payne

by Emma Earnst

 

On this day in 1946, Rip Payne took in a ball game at Lambeth Field.  The stadium, constructed in 1911 by Robert E. Lee Taylor, was

intended to be the ‘finest athletic stadium in the South and one that compares very favorably with the stadiums at Syracuse and Harvard.’

Named in honor of Dr. William A. Lambeth, the director of athletics at the time, it served as the football stadium until 1931, when Scott Stadium was constructed.  The field continued to serve other sports, including baseball, for many years hence.  In addition to being the premier athletic field of its day, Lambeth also became well-known for hosting, perhaps, one of the first flights to which Charlottesville bore witness (in 1912).

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In researching this entry, I came across the following discussion on cvillenews.com regarding Charlottesville businesses (including Keller & George, whose sponsorship is advocated in Payne’s photos), the city/county border, and blogging ethics.  Which has still left me to wonder… what is the oldest Cville business?

 

In other news, George Reed, who serves as the managing director of Monticello Media (which, consequently, owns WCHV, the radio group picture above) recently wrote an article discussing the Keller Radio Talent Institute at Appalachian State University.  App State, in turn, is the home to History Matters, a historical publication in which my undergraduate thesis was published. Whoa… that’s a lot of coincidences for one day.

 

Today in Rip Payne

by Emma Earnst

Today, as you may be aware, is Thomas Jefferson’s birthday.  As the crowds gather at Monticello today to celebrate the omnipresent Charlottesvillian’s would-be 269th birthday, I’ll take you back 66 years to 1946, when local civic organizations and Jeffersonian-minded individuals gathered to celebrate his 203rd birthday.

In the present, the Tom Tom Founders Festival will also be opening today, with a free gala.  The apparently SXSW-inspired festival will be hosting a number of talks and events throughout the month, geared toward innovation, music, and the arts.

So, whether you choose to celebrate in the here and now or the then and there, you are just stuck with some Jefferson today.  So enjoy it!

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Today in Rip Payne

by Emma Earnst

 

On this day in 1946, Rip Payne spent the day surrounded by celebration and love.  He was camped out at UVA Chapel and Farmington Country Club, shooting the wedding reception of Sam Gnaloms and his new wife.*

Being now fully immersed in planning my own nuptials, I’d like to take a moment to be thankful that thus far no one has been murdered.  And also to remember that this right here is what its all about….Just look how happy Grandma is!  Only 80 days!!

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*Rip was a notoriously terrible speller, and just as terrible at writing words that can be read by the normal, trained eye.  ”Gnaloms” is our best guess in this instance of chicken scratch.

Today in Rip Payne

by Emma Earnst

Today in 1945, Rip Payne got to hang out with a bunch of lovely nurses at a party at a house on Page Street.  Though the images are few, they are an amusing contrast of formal and pretty-close-to-downright-silly.  Don’t hate, you know you’ve done this, too!

But why don’t nurses get to wear these fun uniforms anymore?  I would totally become a nurse for these (yes, I am that shallow)…

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The Case of an Unknown Soldier

Have you ever heard the expression, “One of these things is not like the others”?  Well, if you ever watched Sesame Street, I hope you know what I’m talking about.

In the early 1970s, a longtime local resident donated a large collection of the papers of her grandparents’ families to the Albemarle Charlottesville Historical Society.  Along with these papers, of the Wilson and Minor families, was a unique object that is believed to have descended from the estate of Mary Venable Minor (b.1861).

View showing the front side of the hands. The stick measures just under 10" in length.

The small wooden carving is quite the interesting piece.  It was created sometime between 1861 and 1865, reputedly by a Confederate prisoner.  Measuring just under 10” long with a diameter of under an inch, one can only imagine it must have taken time and patience.  The two hands are not just clasped, they are grasped in the pose of shaking hands.  Considering that this was supposedly carved by a Confederate prisoner, what do you suppose he was trying to represent?  A dream of compromise between the Union and Confederacy?  A memory of a friend or loved one?  Unfortunately, so much has been lost that could have told a valuable story here.

A closeup showing the detail of the front-side carving. The stick measures 6/8" in diameter.

Mary Venable Minor, reputedly the first known owner, was clearly not the manufacturer.  Minor was the daughter of Colonel Charles S. Venable, a Professor of Mathematics at the University of Virginia.  According to Anna Barringer in the Magazine of Albemarle County History (Volume 27/28),

He had heavy grey hair, a resplendent beard, and a big head set on heavy shoulders which gave him a massive, impressive look.  A brilliant mathematician, he taught before the war, had served on General Lee’s staff, and after Appomattox taught at the University of South Carolina before coming to the University of Virginia…

The Southall-Venable House, owned by Colonel Charles S. Venable and his family, sat in the lot where Lee Park is now situated. The house was torn down in the early 1900s to make way for McIntire's park. Southall-Venable House, Holsinger Studio Collection, 1889 - 1939, Special Collections, University of Virginia Library, Charlottesville, Va.

Though much is known regarding Venable’s life and robust physical appearance, less is known about his daughter.  We do know that she married Dr. Charles Minor of Asheville, North Carolina, a man four years her younger, in December 1890.  The couple resided in Charles’ home state, and had one child, Mary Venable Minor Ball, who also stayed in the Carolinas.  The fact that the object would end up back in Charlottesville after Mary, Sr.’s death may have indicated its connection to a family member still residing in Charlottesville.  But who?  Mary’s father, the Confederate Colonel, was never imprisoned, dismissing the obvious connection.  The vast majority of the other members of the Minor and Venable families served in the war at some point, making conjecture as to a single individual seemingly impossible.

Nonetheless, this small “odd man out” piece does offer us a glimpse into the past, both of a longstanding Charlottesville family and an unknown soldier with a story to tell.

A closeup of the back-side carving detail.

Another Charlottesville Wedding

Both sadly for you and happily for me, I’m out of the office on Friday to attend my college roommate’s wedding.  Meaning, no funtastic Friday blog for you, but I get to have a great day celebrating my good friend and her husband-to-be.  In light of my wedding excursion, I’m offering you a very short blog with a lot of fun images to explore.

These images are part of our Russell “Rip” Payne Collection.  Rip Payne was a photographer in the Charlottesville from the 1940s to 1970s, and his enormously large collection of images was generously donated to the Society several years back.  We are still in the process of accessioning images, with the help of tireless volunteers like Anna (the best sister in the world!):

Anyways, at various points in his career, Rip Payne focused on different scenes like crime scene photography, school yearbook photos, family reunions, civic events, and WEDDINGS.  So, without further adieu, please enjoy this glimpse into the Charlottesville wedding of yesteryear…

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The Neighborhood that Disappeared

Today’s featured collection, unlike some in the past, poses no mystery.  It represents, in large part, the thriving African American community of Vinegar Hill.  More notably, it displays the community before it was swept bare by Charlottesville’s infamous urban renewal project in the mid-1960s.  A great deal of time has been spent in the past decades chastising the pain that was caused by this episode in our history.  While this is wholly warranted, what is truly unique (and what I lovelovelove) about the objects in this collection is the manner in which they breathe life into that argument.  The color paintings portray positive, populated streets that starkly contrast the more typical black & white aerial photographs of the area.  Instead of a broad association, these paintings by D. Collins take that camera and zoom into an individual block, business, or person.   And while those large-scale photos serve an important political purpose, these paintings are personally meaningful.   When I think of Vinegar Hill now, I think of more than just large-scale destruction- I think of the individual loss.

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For a good history of Vinegar Hill, visit the Institute for the Advancement of Technology in the Humanities (UVA).

Collins did a similarly fantastic job featuring other African American communities in Charlottesville, so look for more to come!

The Mystery of the Embossed Album

I’m going all Nancy Drew on you this week.

Imagine for a moment that you’ve just moved into an old house… What is the coolest thing that could possibly find when moving in?  Here’s my list (in order):

1.  A pile of money
2. All my things unpacked already
3. A ghost

Well, admittedly today’s object does not fall into any of these categories, per se.  But when Bonita Baer moved into her apartment at 1121 Wertland Street in the 1980s, she did have a rather interesting experience.  One that, in my opinion, could have involved any and all of these.   Needless to say, I would have totally traded places with her that day.  …um, had I been born yet…

1121 Wertland Street

Ms. Baer was a really nice lady, and gave ACHS what she found in her new apartment that day- so now we can share it with you all!

Curious?

Okay then, here goes:

Do you know what Ms. Baer found yet?

If today’s title hasn’t given it away yet, maybe this will help…

An old photograph album!  Ms. Baer found this in the attic of her apartment at 1121 Wertland Street.  Inside the first page, an inscription can be found:

To Dean Lid

From Mag.

Xmas 1909

Truly, its quite a lovely gift.  The book is covered with embossed leather, decorated with leaves and scrolls.  Inside, the pages are embellished with colorful printed flowers and small landscapes.  The pages are thick, with recesses to place photographs.   An intricate-looking, yet inherently simple pin design locking system keeps the album closed.

The Mystery of the Album

So the album is really pretty, and we know where it came from, but who is “Dean Lit”?  And why did “Mag.” give him this album?

Well, I’d sure love to know, if you can find out…

1121 Wertland Street was built by Mr. Baker, the Registrar of the University at the turn of the (last) century.  It was occupied by his daughter and her husband -the Truymans- until 1924, when the Hill family moved in.  The Hills then rented out part of the house as apartments.  We assume that the album must have belonged to one of these tenants, of whom we have no record.  None of the known residents were Deans or Mags.

In any case, I’m sure it must have been quite an exciting find for Ms. Baer!  I know that it certainly was for me, and this isn’t even my house…  So the next time you find yourself moving into a new place, don’t dismay.  You probably won’t have a ghost help you move your stuff in and then present you with a big pile of cash.  But if you’re lucky, you might find something really cool in your attic.

Base Hospital 41

This week’s featured items have two unique features:

1. They came to us from the other side of the world.
2. They are the first items which were entered into our collection, and which we still have.

I’m going to level with you for a minute.  These items are being featured this week simply because they were at the top of the pile (see item #2 above).  Which isn’t to say that they aren’t interesting… in fact, quite the opposite.  I’m finding as I dive into the deep dark corners of collections storage that everything I touch has a story, and every story deserves to be told.  Whether it’s a rusty bolt, a child’s doll, or any of the million other varied items we have been charged with.  So in a state of overwhelming excitedness to share everything with you, I broke down and just grabbed the first thing I could find.  And it has an awesome story.

This first “thing” I could find was actually an entire collection, donated by Harry M. Wilson in the 1970s.  Wilson was from Charlottesville, enlisted with Base Hospital 41 during World War I, and after the war, donated a series of objects from his time in Europe to the Society.  These objects are quite varied, including French currency notes, a mess kit:

    

    

Shell shot casing:

  

And Shrapnel:

   

 

When I think of Charlottesville history, World War I is not the first thing that pops into my mind.   Nonetheless, two units from right here in little ole Cville played a part in the grand theatre of WWI.

The Monticello Guard, Charlottesville's other unit during WWI.

You see, after the United States entered World War I, Dr. William H. Goodwin proposed an organized unit of hospital workers from the University of Virginia to the Red Cross.  The proper authority was granted, and assigned the title of Base Hospital #41.  Dr. Goodwin soon learned he would be responsible for recruiting the doctors and nurses, as well as all supporting staff and necessary funds for this group.  The Benevolent and Protective Order of the Elks stepped up, donating all the needed funds for this endeavor.

Troops of Base Hospital 41

Dr. William H. Goodwin selected 149 enlisted men and a handful of officers to serve in his troop, including our donor, Harry Wilson.  Of these numbers, 49 were UVA alumni or students.  In July 1918, after months of training, the group was sent to St. Denis, France (located near Paris) where they set up their work out of a school building.  Dormitories were converted into hospital wards, and by August they were fully functioning.  As time went on, the school-turned-hospital reached capacity and tent wards had to be established in the park outside the building.  In addition to dealing with the war-wounded, Base Hospital 41 had to contend with the influenza epidemic of 1918, during which both personnel and patients were attacked.  Finally, on November 11, 1918, the Armistice was signed, ending World War I.  At this time, nearly 3000 patients were in the hospital.  Within two and a half months, all the patients had been removed and the hospital was no more.  The unit was officially demobilized on May 1, 1919.

Further Reading

The Papers of Base Hospital 41, Accession #MS-17, Historical Collections, Claude Moore Health Sciences Library, University of Virginia, Charlottesville, Va.