Gaines interview [Begin Tape 2, Side 1] Warren: This is Mame Warren. It's January 13, 1999. This is tape two with Edwin Gaines. Gaines: To tell you the truth about the Bicentennial, you know, the guy that really ran it was Milton Rogers. Have you ever heard of Milton? Warren: No. Tell me. Gaines: Well, our father hired him. He'd known the family. His wife and my mother had been friends in Mississippi, and Milton, my father had known him, but 23 he'd been a successful, I believe, Wall Street investor. So my father hired him, or the board did, to come down. He really ran the Bicentennial. Warren: And what was his name? Gaines: Milton Rogers, I think. He did the dog work for it all. Warren: So he was not an W&L man. He was brought in from the outside to make it work? Gaines: That's right. I don't know exactly how big it was, but I know that when my father wanted something done, that was the guy he went to. Warren: Interesting. Gaines: Milton Rogers and his wife Lucille. Warren: Now, I can't leave here without our talking about what your father was best known for, and that's being an orator. What are your memories of your father as an orator? Gaines: When I was so very young, I got so nervous I would walk out of his talks. Then when I got older, I heard him talk, particularly during the war, and then, of course, when I graduated from Washington and Lee, and he also came down and spoke when I graduated from McCauley. I never heard anyone, as far as I was concerned, that even approached his ability. I heard some good orators. At the age of seven, he made his first public speech in Wytheville, Virginia. It was explaining the Constitution. At age ten, he was filling in for his father, who was a Baptist minister. He had read Milton, Shakespeare, everything by the time he entered public school, which was the fourth grade. He went to Fork Union for a year or two, and then he went to Richmond, where his brother, Uncle Eddie lived. Well, I think he had, one, the knowledge of the Bible, the experience in talking, and then when he went to his Shakespeare and his comparative English, he taught a course for twenty-some years at Washington and Lee while he was president, and his course was Literature of the Bible, which he did not want me to take, which he did not want to give me an A on, but which he did when my mother said, "If he deserves it, you can't keep it away from him." But it was one of those courses that, you know, you had to have a B-plus average to get in. It was just inspiring. His sense of timing and his knowledge-his timing was tremendous, and his intonations from boisterous to just a whisper, and his complete knowledge, and yet he was about as humble a person as you'd ever see. I remember being over at the Homestead and he gave a speech, and this doctor came up to him after, just weeping, "Poor General Lee. Poor General Lee." [Laughter] And my father would always pooh-pooh when people would-he would pooh-pooh 24 them when they would tell him how good he was. I don't think he ever really knew that he was. Warren: I've heard a couple of tapes of him talking, and one thing that impressed me was how he always would work a joke in. Gaines: You've heard this expression, but they'd by lying in the aisles laughing one moment and crying the next moment, and he had a beautiful way of telling tales. Warren: Do you remember any of them? Gaines: Oh, yeah. Other people who knew him remember. He had a wonderful speech called "Writing Your Own Letter of Recommendation." He took off on that. I remember I used to-ended up with what-this is twenty or some years now. [Unclear] people picked up one of them, but it was about these two young youths in a country far away. They were very upset with the seemingly over-expressions-let me start that again. "There were these two young men that were envious of this old man that lived in the town that all the people respected. And these two young kids, they didn't see why. The guy wasn't strong, he didn't look like much, and yet he was revered by all the people. So they decided they would challenge him to a meeting and show that this old man wasn't so wise and so forth. "So they came upon a plan in which one of the boys would confront the old man and say, 'Old man, if you're so smart, what do I have in my hand?' And then he would have a bird. And I would say if he should, just by some hook or crook, say that it was a bird, then I would say, 'Old man, is that bird alive or dead, if there is a bird there?' If he said it was alive, I would crush it and drop it to the ground. If he said it was dead, I would open my hand and let it fly out. "On the appointed day, all the villagers did come out to see how the old man and the two boys would make out. And this boy went up and said, 'Old man, if you're so smart, tell me what I have in my hand right here.' "The old man said, 'You have a small bird.' "Well, that shook them up for a little bit, but they had [unclear]. So the boy then said, 'Old man, if it is a bird, can you tell me if that bird is alive or dead?' "The old man looked at him and said, 'As you will, my son, as you will.' And I tell you high school graduates, it's up to you, as you will, as you will." But I heard him tell that the first time at my high school graduation. There were stories such as that. Warren: Well, people certainly remember him. They remember him so well. Gaines: You're sweet to say that, Mame. 25 Warren: Oh, I know so. I've interviewed a lot of people, and I know how influential he was. Gaines: When I was in Arizona, and he came to visit us right before he died. He was with us when Kennedy was assassinated, so upset, and then six weeks later he was dead. He died about twelve o'clock at night. I never knew whether he died on the last day of '63 or the first day of '64. Warren: When I heard that he had died on December 31st, I thought, well, he died dramatically just like he lived dramatically. Gaines: That's right. Warren: Do you have any more stories that you would like to share, any particular ones that you remember? Gaines: Oh, I'm sure as soon as you leave I'll think of more. Warren: I heard one about him going to a garden club that I would love to get on tape. Gaines: Now, that's-did Jim [Farrar] tell you that, or did Rob [Mish] tell you? Warren: Rob did. Gaines: If you won't hold it against me-I mean, I don't know whether it belongs on tape. Maybe we ought to turn that off and then you decide whether it does. Warren: Oh, why don't you tell it. We'll censor it from the transcript if- Gaines: Would you mind if I had a cigarette? Warren: Not at all. Gaines: Are you sure? Warren: Yes. [Tape recorder turned off.] Gaines: This was in the forties. My father was invited to speak to the-I believe it was the West Virginia Garden Club. I'm not sure whether Mr.-how he was put in that position, but he had two members of the board from West Virginia, and I believe the chairman of the [unclear] was the one that suggested he talk to the garden club. At any rate, this woman that introduced him had done her research on him and was all prepared, and she came in to introduce him. We were sitting on the stage in the West Virginia Garden Club, state garden club was out there. She started off, "Now, we have Dr. Francis P. Gaines speaking today, and I know something about Dr. Gaines that not a one of you know in this room, something very personal about Dr. Gaines, and not a one of you knows what, and I'll tell you what it is. Dr. Gaines' Who's Who is nine and a half inches long." [Laughter] 26 Warren: Well, obviously you heard the story from your father repeating it when he got back. Gaines: Well, he never repeated it in public. I'll say that. Yes, I did. Warren: So what did he think? Did he get a good laugh out of it? Gaines: Oh, he said he was about to die up there when she said that. [Laughter] He did, but it was a long while afterwards. Warren: I think that was a very funny story. Gaines: Well, I'm glad you don't-I couldn't believe it when I heard it. But it is a funny story. Warren: Oh, I thought it was very funny. Gaines: Of course, you have to speak to a group that know what a Who's Who is. Warren: You know, it occurred to me when I heard it, I said, "Rob, I don't know if kids today would get it. I'm not sure that they would understood what a Who's Who is." Gaines: That's right. Warren: It doesn't have the clout that it once did. Gaines: You know, I didn't talk to my mother about it, but after my father died, a man came up to her, and I knew that this was going on and thought it was legit, and said that they were doing a Who Was Who, and that he was to be included in it, and I never heard any more about it at all. I remember they were doing these Who Was Who, and had people that died between the ages of such and such. Have you ever run into that or not? Warren: I've seen the volume, but !- Gaines: Well, I found one, and it looked like it was the date, but it didn't have my father in it. Warren: Maybe his entry was too long. Nine and a half inches. It was probably longer than that by then. [Laughter] Gaines: [Laughter] That's right. He was a member of the Cosmos Club and all these things. Alfalfa was really the most interesting. Warren: Okay. We're going to wrap thing up here. I'm curious, and I don't know the answer to this. What happened to your mother after your father died? Did she continue to live in Lexington? Gaines: She did. About three years before my father died, they built a little house right across-I say a little house-right across from the building where we were talking about the school on Washington Street. Warren: On Washington Street. 27 Gaines: Well, they lived at 1 Estill Street, which is the street that just goes out from that. Warren: Oh, really. Gaines: And it's a little white house that looks [unclear], but by the time they got through with it, there were four bedrooms and five baths upstairs and two bedrooms and two baths downstairs and all these other rooms. It was really something. Warren: So it wasn't such a little house after all. Gaines: [Laughter] No, it wasn't at all. Warren: Well, after Penn Robin, I can't imagine them after the Lee house- Gaines: That's right. Warren: And I presume-did they continue to entertain right up to the end? Gaines: Oh, yes, they did. Warren: And how much longer did your mother live? Gaines: She lived till '73, I believe it was. So she was alone almost twenty years, I guess. Warren: Ten years after he died. Gaines: Ten years after he died. And the last time I saw her, I was a visiting professor at the University of East Anglia in '71-'72, I guess, and she came over and visited us for a while, and I was the last time. I was so glad that she did have a chance to spend that time with us. Warren: I asked you this question before we turned on the tape recorder, and I've always been intrigued by her name, Sadie duVergne Gaines. Can you explain for me the family name? Gaines: The DuVergne came from the French part of us. One of the first Huguenots came over and settled in Charleston. We were descended from them, my mother's line. The DuVergne is part of a royal name in France which I've never understood, and, as I say, my mother's name was DuVergne, Sadie DuVergne, as a matter of fact, Sadie DuVergne Robert, and the Roberts came, of course, from the Huguenots that came from France. Warren: And was she always called Sadie DuVergne? Did anyone just call her Sadie? Gaines: No one called her Sadie, I don't think. It was Sadie DuVergne on occasion, but more it was DuVergne, and my father called her Babe. Warren: Oh, how charming. He called her Babe all the time? Gaines: That's right. He referred to her as DuVergne, but called her Babe. 28 Warren: So would someone like Mrs. duPont call her DuVergne? Gaines: No. Let me think. Sadie DuVergne [unclear]. Warren: That's always how I've heard her referred to. Gaines: Most [unclear]. I guess I named one of my daughters after her, we did, and she's DuVergne Robert Gaines. But everybody thinks she's a boy. They don't know about the DuVergne, and then the Robert must be a boy. My mother and father used to have coffee each morning. He kept a little coffeepot in the-it was demitasse, but they'd have five or six of them. He'd bring it in to her, and that's the way they started off the day. For about ten years, though, they started off each day walking around Lexington, to get to know everybody. We used to take a Sunday ride, and we'd come out the Midland Trail, which is 60, and we'd get out to where Fitzpatrick's-no, where Snyder's swimming pool was. This was the early thirties, and that was the only swimming pool around, a concrete swimming pool. Then we'd go out to what is now Frank Gaines' store, which was another store at the time. But on Sunday afternoon they would have funny papers waiting for us, and we'd have soft drinks. Then we'd drive around by Big Spring, come back in by the road at East Lexington, which went next to the house of many cats and next to the swinging bridge, and then the weeping willow where I used to weep. They'd tell me I could have a weep, and I'd pull one of those. Warren: Where was the house of many cats? Gaines: Well, I'm trying to think. If you went down here to Frank Gaines'-you know where that store is? Warren: No. On the Midland Trail? Gaines: Yes. You come out of Lexington about five or six miles, and it's the only grocery store back there. Warren: Okay. Before Big Springs, right there with Big Springs? Gaines: Yes. Now, you go by Big Springs. That was much smaller at the time, and it had ponds, lily ponds on it, and then you keep going to the right there and come into Lexington that way. The cat of many houses (sic) is about halfway there to Lexington, from Big Springs to Lexington [unclear], and right before you got to it was the swinging bridge. Well, we have swinging bridges down here, but at that time I didn't know anything about them. And they had the willow tree. And then we'd come into Lexington. After we'd been here about five or six years, a filling station there, I think we had a tire go bad. They didn't usually do business on Sunday. So the guy fixed that 29 tire for us, and I asked my father who he was, and he said, "My name's Frank Gaines." He said, "Where are you from?" He said, "I'm from Lexington." "What was that again?" "Well, Francis Pendleton Gaines." "From Lexington? Well, you know, I've lived here about fifty years. I thought I knew everybody that lived in Lexington. I've never heard of your name." [Laughter] He'd tell that story on himself. Warren: That's great. Gaines: But I was there, and I remember it was true. He said, "I thought I knew everybody in Lexington. I've been here fifty years, and I never heard that name." Warren: So were there any Lexington characters that you particularly remember? Gaines: Oh, yeah. Oh, Lord! Herb the dog man. Warren: Tell me about Herb the dog man. Gaines: He used to sit right there by the entrance to campus by the Episcopal Church, and there used to be a letter box back there. Well, he'd lean up against that and have these puppies go in there. You'd buy a puppy, you know, for a couple of dollars, and the thing would disappear, and you'd come back, and here it was with Herb. [Laughter] He was notorious for that. But he was good. There were-well, I knew all the people. Watt Smith [phonetic], who worked at Washington and Lee. Warren: Who was Watt Smith? Gaines: He was the plumber for the entire university, strong as a horse. He'd walk around with trunks under one arm and another one like that. There was Boss, who was in charge of the grounds at Washington and Lee. He had the only electric mower, or gasoline mower, I guess it was. But they were unusual at the time. But when I say-Smith, Watt Smith, when I say he was in charge of all the plumbing, he was the only plumber. When I say Boss, a wonderful black man, a wonderful man no matter what color. And I say he was in charge of the grounds. He was the only one in charge. And the same way with Mr. Agnor. He was the only carpenter. He was the carpenter for the whole school. So the support group was very small at the time. In fact, there were only about two people in the business, three people in the business part of the university when my father came, I think. And there was Rotten Apples. Warren: Who was Rotten Apples? 30 Gaines: I don't remember, but I remember there was another guy that made his own shoes with burlap and so forth, and he kept money in the bank, and he would take it out and go to New York, and they would arrest him because they thought that he would-and then there was one time, I think, even the Chief of Police went up to New York to get him back, because he just-he didn't believe in dollar bills and things, and he'd walk around with these silver dollar things. And there was always a fight at Washington and Lee between the locals that believed that they stole their cats, or somebody stole their cats and sold them to the science department over at Washington and Lee. There was always a bunch of friction at that time. One of the most embarrassing things, I suppose, that ever happened when I was small, I was going across that longest non-suspension concrete footbridge in the world, supposedly, if you know which bridge I'm talking about, and I proceeded to put my head between a couple of those posts, and when I tried to retrieve my head, it wouldn't come. So we had about forty-five minutes and 500 people and everything, and I finally got my head out from between- Warren: Oh, my gosh. That would be a memorable day. Gaines: That was. That's right. That was right above the train tracks that used to be there. Warren: Do you remember the train coming in? Gaines: Oh, yes. Absolutely. Even when I was in college, I think, it still backed in about three times a week or something like that. When we were at Penn Robin, we'd take the train from Buena Vista-a lovely overnight trip. You'd leave Buena Vista at eight at night and get in New York at seven the next morning. The same way coming back. But they've done away with it. Warren: You could get on the train in Buena Vista and go all the way to New York without changing? Gaines: Oh, yeah. It was a perfect overnight trip. Get on at eight, get in bed, get up about 6:30 and Penn Station at seven. Warren: Sounds good to me. Gaines: And the same schedule coming back. It was neat. So there was a lot of traffic, and we used to see a lot of shows and things. We'd go up at Christmastime. Warren: I wish we could still do that so easily. Gaines: Yes, I do. I do. I'm scared to even try to get a room in New York now because the- warren: It's a challenge. 31 Well, I want to thank you. I'm going to unhook you so you have freedom, you can move around all you want, and we'll just keep chatting, but I'm going to wind up the tape. Gaines: Good. I'm so, so delighted to meet you. I really am. Warren: Well, I am so thrilled to get your stories on tape. Gaines: Well, I don't know how they stack up or anything like that. Warren: I can tell you. I know better than anybody. They stack up just great. Gaines: Thank you. Warren: Thank you. [End of interview] 32