AN INTERVIEW WITH THOMAS H. SWEARINGEN

Interviewer: Alan Newton

Oral History Project

Endacott Society

University of Kansas

THOMAS H. SWEARINGEN

B.F.A., Commercial Art, University of Kansas, 1960

Work towards M.A. in Design, University of Kansas, 1960

Service at the University of Kansas

First employed by the University of Kansas in 1960

Museum Artist/Taxidermist, Natural History Museum, 1960-78

Instructor, Scientific Illustration, 1967-76

Instructor, Taxidermy, 1972-2001

Director of Exhibits, Natural History Museum, 1978-2001

AN INTERVIEW WITH THOMAS SWEARINGEN

Interviewer: Alan Newton Q: I=m speaking with Thomas Swearingen, who retired in 2001 as Director of Exhibits

for the Natural History Museum at the University of Kansas. We=re in Lawrence,

Kansas. The date is June 10, 2002. Where were you born and in what year?

A: I was born in 1936. I was actually born at home in Horton, Kansas. It was kind of

a unique thing, as I was actually one of the last people in Horton to be born at

home, before the hospital was finished.

Q: What part of the state is Horton located in?

A: Horton is about twenty miles west of Achison, about twenty-five miles south of the

Nebraska line. It sits right up in the corner of Brown County, Kansas.

Q: What were your parents= names?

A: Alberta Louise is my mother. She was a Kinkaid. They were from Kentucky. My

father was Roger Obadiah Swearingen. He was born in St. Joseph, Missouri. We

were really Pennsylvania Dutch who came over here around 1642 and started up

the Swearingen Conestoga Wagon business in Pennsylvania. Garrett was married

several times and had a number of children. One of the offspring of the

Swearingen lineage became the great white warrior who fought with the Indians,

Techumsi, named Blue Jacket, in Ohio. I think he or his son is buried down here

in Wyandot County. They died of cholera in the early 1800=s.

Q: What was your parents= educational background?

A: My dad got his high school diploma at Soldier High School. He was quite a great

track runner and football player, but his brother died when he was just a child. His

dad was a roving preacher and never took care of the family really. He and his

brother and sister were kind of left like orphans for the other family to raise. And

so he wanted to go to college and would have been a fine athlete, but due to

money problems, he trapped and hunted and worked with his relatives. Charlie and

Lizzie Rogers really raised the kids out of Soldier, Kansas.

Q: Is Soldier near Horton?

A: No, it=s out around Centralia, north of Holton, in that area. He worked hard, and

they were good to the kids. He trapped a lot and saved his money and went away

to Cincinnati to the School of Embalming to become an undertaker, even though he

ended up going to the Topeka Barber School after that. He got injured by a horse-

--it ran off and rolled him up, tore him up pretty good---and he became and a

barber, and barbered until he died in the early 60=s, when he was only 58 years

old. My mother graduated from Horton High School. She went away to Topeka to

learn about bookkeeping, things like that, and then she met my dad and they were

married.

Q: What led them to Horton?

A: Well, my dad barbered in Corning, Kansas, to start with. There happened to be an

opening there and a barber shop for sale. After he barbered there in Corning and

got started, he went to Horton. A lot of his relatives were around there. All of

them were farmers. A lot of people lived south of Horton, around Muscoga, in the

Brush Creek community, and so that=s where he stayed.

Q: Do you have brothers and sisters?

A: I have one sister, and she=s still alive. She lives in Horton. Her name is Patsy

Leehew. She has five children. She has worked on a number of different things,

but right now she works with the handicapped in Hiawatha, Kansas. She takes

care of them about forty hours a week. She=s quite talented in a number of

things---an excellent cook and a seamstress, and a number of things.

Q: So you grew up in Horton, and went to school there?

A: Right.

Q: Were you in Boy Scouts?

A: I was in Cub Scouts, but I really excelled more in the 4H Club. Back then, it really

was for rural youth, but I finally talked them into taking a city slicker, so to speak,

as a 4H-er. I saved my money cutting weeds out of corn fields and things, and

shipped some calves back from Wisconsin, some dairy heifers, and started out in

the dairy calf project. At that time, dairying was pretty good, and all my relatives

milked a lot of cows.

Q: What memories do you have of WWII, and how it affected the town and the family?

A: I can tell you quite a bit about it. There were a lot of things people don=t realize.

I remember my mother going away in the evenings a couple of nights a week to

wrap bandages. I also remember when we would have blackouts. We had to turn

all of our lights off and things like that. Just being a child---I was born in 1936,

and the war started around 1939, actually, though we got into it in 1941---I

remember lying there on the floor with my dad and hearing a lone airplane going

overhead. And as a little kid, you want to know if you=re going to be bombed, or

what. And also, television hadn=t even come about at that time, and we=d listen

to the radio a lot. It was a time for more family togetherness, more communication

amongst each other. A lot of people say, ?You talk too much,@ but back in those

days, if you didn=t talk, you were pretty lonely.

Q: You were pretty young, first or second grade, during the war. Do you remember

anything they did in school to promote the war effort?

A: I remember when people lost family in the war, they would put stars in the

windows. They had sort of a banner that they would put in the windows if people

lost a son, or sometimes a daughter---women were killed, nurses. I remember the

last day of the war more than anything, because I had been fishing---that time I

was only about ten years old. I had been fishing out at the Horton lake and I

caught a---oh, I thought it was big fish at the time---it was probably about a foot-

long channel cat. By the time I walked home with it, it was pretty dry, so I had it

under the faucet on the side of the house. I was trying to limber it up a little bit to

clean it. And I heard the church bells going off and all the cars start honking their

horns and driving up and down the street, and everybody was hanging on them.

Everybody was crying and screaming. It was a special time, and I remember it

very well. You know, a lot of people you hadn=t seen for a long time would be

coming home. Some would never come home. But another thing I remember a lot

about---I had lost my first tooth. Everybody believed in the tooth fairy. So that

next morning I looked under my pillow to see what the tooth fairy had left me, and

I had a little plastic coin, and it was a token. Back in those days, in order to get

meat and things, you had to have tokens. And so I went and told my mother, AI

don=t know what the fairy was thinking. Here is what they left me.@ And my

mother said, ?Oh, that=s very nice. I=ll trade that for a dime.@ So I traded my

token off for a dime. I remember that---we lived in Horton, which is next to the

Kikapoo reservation---tires were very hard to get for cars, and gasoline was

rationed. And I remember that the Indians would burn kerosene in their cars, and

they=d run the cars on the rims, because you couldn=t get any tires. The cars

would smoke like heck, and you=d hear them coming down the gravel road for a

long ways, sparks a-flying when they hit the pavement. And they=d never turn

them off, because if you could get that kerosene---it wasn=t diesel fuel they were

running, it was kerosene---and if it cooled off, they couldn=t get the car started

very easy. So they=d just let them run, and they=d smoke to beat heck.

Q: So you attended junior high and high school in Horton as well?

A: Right. I went through all the grades---grade school, high school---junior high was

not like it was today. You went to grade school, then you went to high school.

There weren=t any middle schools, or anything else. Actually, at that time, when I

got started, I went the first two grades at one school, and then they closed it, and

then we went to Horton. They called it Horton High School, but the grade school,

and everything, was in the same building.

Q: What are favorite classes that you remember, or teachers?

A: I didn=t have very good eyesight, and I was a poor reader. I couldn=t read, and

they didn=t know I needed glasses too much in those days. So I was held back to

fourth grade because I couldn=t read, couldn=t see. When I was born, I was born

with a cataract on my right eye. I=ve still got it. You really have to be able to

read if you=re going to be able to do anything. And I finally conquered the thing.

Also, I might have been a little bit dyslexic. Because I have a daughter that was

dyslexic, and she had to take special courses and things, and she graduated from

Baker later. But in those days, they figured that you weren=t applying yourself. It

was very frustrating, because sometimes you=d see things in a different way than

other people. Looking back on it, I=m almost positive I was dyslexic.

Q: What did you do in the summers? Did you have jobs?

A: I worked with my aunts and uncles. They all had farms. I started when I was ten

years old, or even earlier, working on the farm, milking cows by hand, planting---

they had an old two row corn planter that was left over from the horse days. I can

remember that we thrashed. I can remember riding the pony and being the water

boy. Pulling hay up in the hay mounds with horses. There was a lot of farming

with horses back in those days. We had the first tractor in the whole community,

my uncle did, an old 1020 farm haul. So he ran the thrashing machine. We=d go

around to all the neighbors and thrash. But I think that people relied on other

people a lot more. There were a lot of funny stories about those days. There was

a family there---they were the new family, and they had a lot of children. Their

name was Gilkerson, and they had twelve children. Tommy was the last one, and

he was killed in Viet Nam, which was very sad. It had been a very wet early

summer, and they had all the wheat and oats up in shocks. By the time we got to

their place, it had taken its toll on the shocks. There were a lot of mud holes out

in their lot, and so my uncle asked where he wanted to put the straw. You=d

shoot the straw out of the thresh machine, and it made good place for things to

snuggle down into in the winter. Also, they ate the straw and things like that. And

so he said to put it down in the mud holes. So we thrashed, and about three or

four days later---we always had to watch when we were going after the cows and

things, because they had a lot of hogs that ran all over the country, and they=d

take you once in a while, and you had to be able to climb a tree to get away from

them. They didn=t have much money for feed, and they didn=t have much fences,

if they had any at all. And so things kind of free ranged a good bit. Also, they

had old party telephones, and everybody would listen to everybody=s business.

When you=d hear the phone ring, well, everybody would put their hand over the

thing and be listening in on the phone calls, because it rang everywhere on a party

line, maybe eight or ten farms. So that was kind of the newspaper, and way of

learning what was happening. So back to the hogs---by golly, he couldn=t find

any of his sows. So we looked for them and we couldn=t find them. And about

three weeks later, he calls up---just calls one person, because he knows he=ll get

everybody---and said, ?Well, our sows are home. When we blew that straw into

the mud hole, they were laying in the water, and they ate their way out.@ Just little

stories like that. There=s a pile of those, a book full of stories about the farm life.

Q: Did you follow in your father=s footsteps and play football?

A: I played football. I ran track. It was very good for me because I ended up going

to Kansas State on a small track scholarship after I was out of high school. I set a

lot of school records. We won two state championships in the mile relay and some

things like that. It was a very rewarding thing. I played football too, but track was

really my thing. I didn=t play much basketball. I liked to trap in the winter. My

father had taught me how to trap, because he had worked his way through school,

made some money. I liked to trap, too. Actually, that ended up being my silent

education to working in the Natural History Museum later.

Q: At Kansas State, what was your undergraduate major?

A: I started out in pre-veterinary medicine. I always like animals, and worked a lot

with them. But my first semester, we had on old set of blocks---starting blocks for

track---and I got ruptured. So I had to have surgery between semesters. Back

then, between semesters is a little different than today. Now you get several

weeks. Back then you maybe had two days. So Dr. Baskin at the Raleigh County

hospital operated on me, and I was in the hospital five or six days. And then when

I went home, I couldn=t climb any stairs, or things like that. I went home to

recover---I was really sore. School had already started, and by the time I got back

to college, I couldn=t climb stairs for a while, and they didn=t have handicapped

things in those days---they didn=t even think about it. I can=t even remember

when I rode on my first elevator. I think it was Chicago or New York, in some big

building. So by the time I got back to school I was a couple of weeks late. Now, I

had always loved to draw. My mother was a Presbyterian, and every time the

church door opened, she had us kids go in there. My dad was a Methodist. So

by the time we=d hit all the church deals, we were pretty---to tell you the truth, I

got a little bored with it. And I=d sit in there and draw. I could always remember,

you know, they had those old wool pants you=d sit in, and they=d itch you. So I

always had a knack for drawing. I never had any official thing on it, just a little bit

of drawing in class. Back then they had---one day a week in grade school---they

had this radio show you=d tune in to, and then you=d draw what they=d tell you

about, things like that. So, I really enjoyed that, and I loved to draw animals. So I

transferred from pre-veterinary medicine, over to commercial art. It was very

interesting, because I ended up meeting some people---Bob Boozer, the great

basketball player from K State---he and I had known each other. We were in

class together, and we double dated. Even though we haven=t kept too much in

touch with each other over the years, we were good friends. DeLoss Dobbs,

who=s now the athletic director at the University of Texas, we ran against each

other all through high school. He used to play center, and then we were both on

the track team at K State for a couple of years. I made a lot of friendships that

lasted over the years.

Q: Where did you live at K State?

A: When I first moved there, I pledged at the AGR House, Alpha Gamma Rho. Even

though I never went active, I kept a lot of friends. It cost a lot of money to go

there, and I just became an independent. I just was so busy working different

places. I became the Chi Omega house boy for the meals. That was an

experience in itself. We had to take weekends, and nights, getting those girls in

and out of a car, and some of them were pretty---they liked to drink in those days,

just like they do now. You know, sneaking them up the fire escape, getting them

past the house mother without them getting caught. We did ornery things, too,

because they pulled stunts on us. I think we ended up getting fired four or five

times. We got rehired, every time, for just little things we had pulled. It was an

experience, but we enjoyed it. K State was really an excellent school, and a

friendly school. When I transferred---my uncle, my dad=s brother, said that you

really needed to get a Bachelor of Fine Arts degree if you=re going to go into the

art field---and so I transferred after my sophomore year to KU to finish my degree.

It was a real rude awakening, when I came from K State to KU. Because KU was

very snobbish, very cold, very clique-y. Sure, I got in there and I had a lot of fun

here. A party is kind of what you make it. My dad always told me---I had gone to

a dance as a kid, and I came and home, and he said, ?How was the dance?@ I

said, ?Dad, that was the most boring time I=ve ever had.@ He said, ?Let me tell

you something. I don=t ever want to hear that again.@ I said, ?Why?@ He said,

?You know, a party=s what you make it. You can have the most boring time of

your life, or you can really enjoy life.@ And you know, I never had another boring

time in my life, I don=t think. It=s been great ever since.

Q: So you transferred here, and spent two years here?

A: No, I spent three years here. It took me a few years, because there were a lot of

classes you had to pick up. There were only a few classes you could take each

semester. Later on, after they get to know you, you could double up on them.

Also, I got to working at the Natural History Museum as a student, trapping for

them. Also, I was learning taxidermy work. I finally talked the old taxidermist to

taking me as a student. He didn=t want to take me, but finally I just badgered him

long enough. George Young took me as a student, and the last year, my fifth

year, I took ten hours of taxidermy along with some other things to finish my

degree. It was quite rewarding, because I learned a tremendous amount. And it

just happened that a job opened up as the Museum artist. Brett Waller, who is

now head of the Carnegie collection, I think, he was here at that job, and he was

colorblind. He went to Citadel, and I was---Dr. Hall, E. Raymond Hall, was director

of the Museum at that time. It just happened that he said, ?Do you want a job as

the artist here?@ I knew how to do taxidermy work, and I had trapped for them,

and done drawings for them. I said, AI sure do,@ because I was married at that

time and had several children. And it worked out, and I stayed here all these

years.

Q: Your job at the Natural History Museum---were you thinking of that as a lifelong

career at that time?

A: Let me tell you what happened. There were some other opportunities that I had,

that, in some ways, would have been good for my marriage if I=d have taken them,

financial-wise. I married a girl, Katherine Suber. Her dad was an orthopedic

surgeon in Kansas City. They were very well-to-do, and I was just a poor country

hick, so to speak. Hard-working, but that doesn=t amount to too much after the

new wears off. We had three children in our marriage. Her dad had played

football, baseball, and basketball, for Phog Allen. I had---going back just a little

bit, when I was in high school, I was running in the Achison Relays one day, and

they had a big rain storm that spring day, and we had to run in water probably six

to eight inches deep, and I hurt my back. I thought I=d really messed myself up.

What I=d done, I=d pinched a sciatic nerve, and I could hardly move. Well, I

finished that track season, barely, and then I started going to chiropractors and

osteopaths that spring and summer. So that next fall, I was feeling so bad, and

there was another fine athlete we had at our school, whose name was Bobby

Knight---not the same Bobby Knight that most people know---but he was also a

fine, excellent basketball player and track man. So our coach, Vaughn Kimbrall---

who later became the football coach at Leavenworth and Bonner Springs, and had

excellent football teams---he contacted Phog Allen. He had a clinic down here at

the old Robinson Gym, and people came from the pro baseball teams, the

Yankees---all kinds of people came to get him to work on them, because he was

an osteopath. He actually had one of the greatest minds I=ve ever known. I

remember when he died, I said, ?You know, that=s really a loss to America.@ If

you=ll ask Jim Ryun, when he became athlete of the year, if it hadn=t been for

Phog Allen, he=d have never done it. Because he had problems with his back,

too, a pinched sciatic nerve, and he fixed him up. So anyway, our coach brought

Bobby Knight and myself down here to the clinic. We walked into the old Robinson

Gym---we had run at the KU Relays---but being able to go up there on campus,

actually having a place to go, was quite a feat, quite impressive. And at that time,

the great basketball team was there---Clyde Lovellette, Black, Dean Kelly, Smith,

who became the great coach---they were all there that afternoon. So we went in

and met Dr. Allen, and he took us around and introduced us to everybody, which

was very impressive to us. We were just some little country kids. And then he

showed us what we had wrong with us, and he taught our coach and each one of

us how to fix each other, how to fix that pinched sciatic nerve. It=s really been an

interesting thing, because we went away that day fixed up---we could run again.

Also, his philosophy was a fantastic thing. He always left the door open to come

back anytime, and it happened to me over the years till he passed away. He was

kind of my doctor. I could tell you a few experiences with that, it=s pretty funny.

Some of the stories that I found out, most people don=t even know, and it=s never

been published. Anyway, that=s one of the things that=s sort of interesting about

our high school career, and how we got we got in with Phog Allen.

Q: So you met your wife in Lawrence?

A: Yes. When I started here, catching up on some of the courses I had to take for

commercial art and design. In one of the classes, I was the only boy with about

eighteen or twenty girls. I had gathered up my tools, my equipment that I=d had at

K State, and some I had to get when I was here, and this one girl kept coming

over and borrowing my stuff. A lot of times, she wouldn=t bring it back. Finally,

she came over to borrow it one time, and I said, ?Look, I don=t mind you

borrowing this stuff, but why don=t you just sit down here so I can get it back.@ I

didn=t know anything about her, and that stuff was kind of hard in coming, and

there wasn=t a lot of money in those days, and what we had we worked hard for.

Anyway, it ended up that I married this girl, and that was Dr. Suber=s daughter.

They were great people to me. Our marriage didn=t work out, but we=re still good

friends. We raised our kids. We lost one little girl we had together---she had

leukemia when she was four. That was Suzanne---we called her Sudi---but that=s

another story.

Q: Did you marry while you were in school?

A: Yes, I married while I was in school, and she was a student. We had Tommy first,

he=s the oldest, Tom, Jr. Then we had Suzanne. And then, after I was working

at the Museum, we had Heather. We lived in Stouffer Place. First we lived in

Building Five up there, and I was trapping in the winter, and still doing that sort of

thing. It was kind of funny because I had furs hanging out there from Stouffer

Place Drive, drying and everything else. Finally, one of my teachers, Sheldon

Cary, who was a great ceramicist and glass blower, said, ?Hey, I=ve got an old

shed. Why don=t you bring those old furs down here, get them off the front of

Stouffer Place, bring those down here and put them in my shed? I started doing

that, and that worked out real well. I finished my degree and started working at the

Museum of Natural History, and then she went ahead and finished hers, too.

Q: Was she also in commercial art?

A: Yes, she was also in that. She did a lot of fashion design. She was a beautiful

woman. She was a fashion model. She later did some fashion work, after we

were divorced, for Christian Dior in Europe. She did Cricket West in Jones Store in

Kansas City, things like that. My daughter later got her degree at Baker in fashion

merchandising, even though she didn=t use it. She got into computers, which a lot

of people did at that time, and has survived in California in the computer business.

Q: Do any of your children live in Kansas today?

A: They=re kind of scattered all over the country. After I was divorced from Kay, I

married a lady here in town who had a little boy, named Bucky. Tommy lived with

me when we split up---Sudi had passed away---and Heather lived with her mother.

Kay went to Europe to find a rich man, over in Copenhagen, Denmark, and I

married a lady here in town. Her father was the veterinary doctor, Bill Wimpy. Still

is alive at eighty-five, and still doing a lot of our work. We were in the process of

raising her child, my child, and then we had one of our own---yours, mine, and

ours---and so it was a very interesting life. Not all the time---kids can kind of

make things rough at times---they use you against each other---but it worked out

well in the end. It had its trying moments. You think when you marry into a

situation like that, can you ever love the step-child as much as your own? But you

can. I tell you, it=s been a really rewarding life. My son, after going through all

kinds of growing pains, is now one of the top racehorse trainers in America. He=s

in Chicago---races at Hawthorne=s Sportsman in Arlington, and sometimes in

Kentucky. He=s worked on big horse farms down there. He=s a great chicken

fighter. And then my stepson, Bucky Scribner, played at Lawrence High School

and became an all-state punter. Then he went to Pratt and became a small

college All-American punter, even though he was playing offensive tackle, too.

Then he came to KU and set the NCAA record, which still stands today, of the best

punting average over 75 kicks in a year. He was two times second team All-

American and went to the bowl game. Then he went on from there and he played

for the Packers under Bart Starr for two years. Then he went to the Vikings and

played, and got enough years to retire. Now he=s got two children, and so we=re

in the process of enjoying grandchildren. Also, my oldest son has three children

and they live in Elgin, Illinois. He has a boy who has already graduated from high

school here in Lawrence. Then he has two girls from another marriage, and they

run this big horse farm in Elgin with a guy named Grekko who=s in the cheese

business. The horse that just won the Derby and the Preakness came out a stable

right next to his horse in Hawthorne, and won the Illinois Derby. But he=s had

some great horses, and I=m sure he=s destined to have some more. Maybe he=ll

be in that situation, running them in the Derby someday. My daughter is in

California, and she has two children. She=s married to a lawyer out there. Then

we had a child of our own, Rocky. He=s named Roger actually, Roger Michael.

He=s in the construction business with his uncles here in town, Whitney Brothers

construction. He raises some of the finest sheep in America. He also likes the

livestock business. It goes on, you know. It=s just like anything. You introduce

people to different things in their lives, and it=s kind of surprising as to what little

things they pick up on. Bucky married a girl named Cindy Shick, and Dall Shick

was the great back at KU, and also a great athlete for Lawrence High. He was

part of the great backfield of Hadel, Curtis Clinton, Bert Cohn, and Dall Shick. It=s

a little world how all of these people come together, and how you=re interacting

with a number of different communities. Dall has passed away. He had that stroke

and finally passed away about a year and a half ago. It was very sad---too young.

Q: Who was in charge of the Museum when you started as an artist?

A: E. Raymond Hall, was the director of the Museum at that time. There=s a million

Hall stories. He ran a pretty straight ship. He had his ways about him. But I=ll

tell you, I found him very honest with me. I think of some of the things he taught

me---and also George Young---that you never want to sacrifice quality for quantity.

Whatever you do, you always want to do the best you could, from the littlest project

to the biggest. I kept that goal all my life. I think it worked out very well for me.

He was director there for a number of years. Then Phil Humphrey came in, Dr.

Humphrey. He came in, I think, from the Smithsonian, or maybe the American

Museum, I can=t remember. He was the director until he retired. And now it=s

Kris Krishtalka. He=s from Canada, and he=s the director at this time.

Q: What do you remember about the town of Lawrence at that time?

A: Lawrence was a lot smaller. When I came to Lawrence, it was kind of a two fold

situation. I got into having a horse project near the end of my 4H career. I

became the state champion of that project, the colt project. The 4H Foundation,

which was part of horsemen across the state of Kansas, donated mares, and they

bred the colt for you. I happened to get hold a real good one that came from a

person here in town named John Brand. He was a lawyer in town. Jack Brand is

still here, his son. John passed away. Audrey is still here, out at the Presbyterian

Church Manor. She=s still alive. I started coming down here and working on

weekends my sophomore year, really the end of my freshman year. I worked for

him in the summer time. The next year I=d come down and work weekends

training horses for him, Tennessee Walking horses. He had a farm out there, up

from Kasold, and Mr. Kasold lived right next door to him. Most people don=t

realize that Kasold Road was a dirt road at that time. The Orchards, down there

where the golf course is, was actually an orchard. We rode horses in there and

picked mushrooms, and all kinds of things. We would take and use the old dirt

road, Kasold Road, to ride horses on, because it was a dirt road and good on their

feet. You could go all the way to 23rd Street, which was a gravel road at that

time. You could ride up and down the hills, and everything else. 15th Street, that

we know now and goes over to the campus, was the old Champney Dairy that the

University has, and the buildings are still there. Ed Sample had a big dairy farm in

there where Alvomar is, and I knew his daughter very well, Irene, and she showed

horses also, and had some Walking horses. She now lives in Kentucky, I think

down at Louisville, or Lexington, I=m not sure which one. That whole area out

there, if you go back with the names it has, it kind of followed up true to what it

was. I remember one time I had a little Walking horse that I had broken for John.

His name was America the Beautiful. He was a cocky little horse, and he was

beautiful. I had got him broken real well myself. John came home one day and

said, AI=ve got a little girl from Kansas City, and I=ve sold her America the

Beautiful.@ And I said, ?You think he=s ready for a little kid?@ He said, AI think

she=ll get along fine.@ So we saddled her up one morning and went down to what

you call Kasold Drive now, down on the dirt road. Then I said, ?This is the way

he is---just watch him. I=ve never had any trouble with him myself, but whatever

you do, don=t jump off of him, because you=re liable to get hung up and he=ll

drag you.@ We started off down the road, and he was just sitting there walking

real good. The next thing I know, he=s walking faster and faster, and then he

starts galloping and runs off with this little girl. I take off running after him---

running in a pair of Jodford boots with spurs on is not the way to run, I tell you

that. But he runs clear to 15th Street, from 6th Street, and I=m in fast pursuit. It

was a little muddy that day, which made it a little worse running. Then he heads

down 15th Street, down towards the orchards. Because I=d ridden him up and

down there, he knew where to turn when you go down that big, steep hill. There

was a little narrow bridge down there that goes over the creek. He went down

there and he never liked to cross that bridge. I knew if I could catch him coming

back up that hill, maybe he=d turn around and not go over that bridge and I might

be able to stop him. So the horse ran down there to that bridge, stopped, turned

around, and started running up that big, steep hill. It=s not as steep now as it

was, but it=s still pretty darn steep. When he came up the hill, he was slowing

down a little bit, and I caught that horse. Boy, that little girl was pale as a ghost.

Q: Had she been screaming?

A: No. She sat on him. She was a gamey little old gal. She was about fourteen or

fifteen years old. I said, ?Do you want off of there?@ She said, AI sure do.@ I

said, ?Well, let me on him.@ I got on him, and by golly he proceeded to try and

run off with me. In those days, I didn=t think I could be thrown off of a horse. I

said, ?Let=s see how fast you can run.@ So I put the spurs to him, and we headed

down to 23rd Street. I ran him clear down there and I ran him back. I ran him

down that hill again on 15th Street near the old Champney Dairy, then I turned

around and ran him back up the hill. Then he didn=t want to run anymore, and I

stuck it to him and I whooped him a few times and made him run some more, and

that horse never would run off with me again. But he ran off with everybody else.

He was a bad one. He went on to some professional trainers and he ran off with

them all, and I said, ?You gotta make him think you=re going to kill him, or else

he=ll always run off with you.@ I don=t know what ever happened to him. He was

a nice horse for me to ride, but he wasn=t much good for anybody else. That was

one story about it. What a lot of people don=t know about Mr. Kasold was that he

raised a lot of exotic birds in those days. He had little parakeets and song birds,

canaries, things like that. I=d be over there working in the horse barn, and I=d

hear Mrs. Kasold screaming and hollering. And she=d say, ?Tom bring the hoe!@

because there=d be a snake in there trying to kill the birds. They were flying

everywhere. They had these big pens full of them. The Kasolds were just like a

real good friend to me. Little did I know that Kasold Road would become so

famous in these days. Mr. Kasold and Mrs. Kasold were super people. I got to

know them very well.

Q: Back to the Museum. You started off as an artist. . . .

A: No, I actually started off as a taxidermist as a student---there wasn=t any artist

category, even though I was doing the art work, too. They had this taxidermy

category in the state system. So I became one of the state taxidermists. The

person who taught me taxidermy, George Young, had kind of a fantastic

background, actually. He was a kid that was raised in Denver, Colorado, and he

didn=t have any school past sixth or seventh grade. Very poor times back in the

Depression. So he started going over and volunteering to do work at Jonas

Brothers, the great taxidermy shop there in Denver. He worked there and learned

a lot of their techniques, with Coleman Jonas, and John, and some of those. Later

on, he started going up in the mountains and picking up things for exhibits,

because they did a lot of work for the Denver Museum. He got to know Baby Doe

Tabor, at the great Matchless Mine up there. That was when they thought silver

was going to become as high as gold, and he got to know her real well up at

Leadville. He was the only person that she trusted after old Tabor was dead.

He=d take her up food and everything. Later, she was found frozen to death up

there in the old cabin. That was one of his things that I knew. After George did a

lot of work at the Denver Museum, he went on and took a job at Metro Goldwyn

Mayer, and did all the old Tarzan movies where=d you see the killer bees flying.

He was really good at animation, doing moving things. Great at doing models.

One of the best bird taxidermists I=ve ever seen. I could do good birds, and I

could do better mammals than he could do, but his birds were fantastic. His

inventive mind. He later became head of the exhibits at the L. A. County Museum.

Then E. R. Hall became director of the KU Museum, and he wanted to get a better

taxidermist, and he was very particular. So he went out and hired George to come

here. George was already in his middle 50=s at that time. An old German. He

had one daughter, and his father-in-law came to live with them later. They called

him ?Paps.@ He was always a very family-oriented man. His wife---just a little

side story---they were very strong Catholics. His wife wanted his daughter to go to

St. Benedictine, or Mount St. Scholastica in Achison. He didn=t want her to do

that. He wanted her to go to KU and get married and have a family, because he

loved kids. He always smoked a pipe and cigarettes, which later gave him cancer,

but nobody knew about those things in those days. He wrapped his own filters,

and all that sort of thing. Very tight in ways, but a great inventor. And darn it if

his daughter didn=t become a nun. It just broke his heart, because he figured that

he=d been lied to. He kind of quit the Catholic Church over that. I had met his

daughter a number of times. It was kind of a weird situation. He said, ?Well this

is my daughter, Sister---@ something or another. But it really bothered him,

because he never had grandchildren. That was the end of a bloodline, actually.

Q: Did she stay a nun?

A: She stayed a nun. And she still is to this day, if she=s still alive, I=m sure. He

worked with Waldo Love, the great background painter at the Denver Museum.

Waldo Love was probably one of the finest background painters of all times.

George dabbled in painting some himself. He taught me the principles of

background painting. I had only had one course at K State in oil painting, and it

was a lot different. They taught you to work all over your canvas. When you paint

backgrounds, it=s a whole different philosophy. It came in very handy to me. I

learned about color, how to keep your palette clean, keep your colors from

becoming muddy, how to work with house paints. Because for a white, they used

a flat white house paint. Most of it was lead back in those days, because it went

on smoother. That=s what the lead did, it made your paints go on real smooth. I

learned the techniques of background painting from George Young, but it was also

the same techniques of Waldo Love and other artists that he=d worked around at

Metro Goldwyn Mayer. He was invaluable to me. Later on in life, he always had

this inferiority complex, because he didn=t have the schooling that some of us had

had. He always felt inferior, or jealous a little bit. Later on, it really got to preying

on his mind. We did the mammals of northeastern Kansas, and Dr. Hall made him

redo something. I said, AI wouldn=t do it if I were you.@ He did it, and he quit.

It bothered him so bad. People sometime would lord it over him, just to rub his

nose in it. Dr. Hall came to me later and said, ?What did George get so upset

about?@ I said, ?Dr. Hall, you can=t treat people like this. You=re the one that ran

him off. You broke his spirit. You didn=t value his opinion. And he was a

master.@ He said, ?Oh, I didn=t realize that I did that.@ But I=m sure he did

realize it, because he was good at doing that anyway. Until you stood up to Dr.

Hall---if you ever wanted to get along with Dr. Hall, someplace along the line, for

him to respect you, you had to stand up to him. I stood up to him over a deal one

time, but that=s another story. I learned what his philosophy was, because

otherwise he was going to run you into the mud.

Q: So George Young=s departure created an opening for you at the Museum.

A: Well, yes---I mean no, George Young was still there. But when the other artist

left---when I was graduating from school---then it opened up for me. So I worked

with George for about five years. George was a taxidermist who taught you a

certain way. The first time he=d show you, he=d show you very nicely. But if you

went back to ask him another question about something he=d already told you, he

would tell you again, but you=d wish you hadn=t asked him. If you had to go back

a third time, you=d have to figure it out on your own, because he wouldn=t fool

with you. That=s the way he was. I didn=t write things down a lot of the time,

and I=d forget stuff. There were so many things to remember when you were

talking about taxidermy work---trying to tan skins, and bottle animals, and all the

processes of separators, and poisons---mixing up all the different kinds of poisons-

--because we used arsenic a lot. I used arsenic all my life, clear up to retirement.

That was the only way to keep the bugs out of the animals. So I just had to find

out a lot of things on my own later on. My dad always said that the secret to

success is to learn how to improvise---that=s what you have to do.

Q: Tell me about how your position at the Museum evolved over the years.

A: I started out as a taxidermist. Then, they finally got a position in the state as a

museum artist, and so I was the first museum artist in the state. After that, they

were trying to upgrade the position a little bit, and then they got a museum

specialist one, so I got into being museum exhibit specialist. And then they got a

museum two exhibit specialist. Then they hired another guy, Albee Ellen, to come

in, when George left. They wanted to put him in charge of me, even though he

didn=t know anything about this. So they had me training him. We were good

friends, but it kind of ticked me off a little bit. He had a Masters degree, and I

didn=t have one. I had over half my Masters done when I started this job, but I

never had the opportunity to finish. I trained him, and then he went on to the

Carnegie Museum, as the head of public education. I think he=s still around there,

some place. He=s probably retired now, too. He left with a guy named Black,

who was a paleontologist, and then he became the director of the Carnegie, and

then he went on from there to Lubbock and then the L. A. County Museum. He

finally broke that place, Black did. Krishtalka, who=s at our Museum now, was a

Black student.

Q: What have been some of your favorite exhibits?

A: There=s a number of things. When I went to the Museum, there were no painted

backgrounds. The only things that were used in the exhibits---there were painted

backgrounds in dioramas---but there was no color used in exhibits at all. Lettering

was very small. We used to just use hand lettered, or Leroy lettered, and now

everything=s done with computers. It=s changed tremendously. I used a lot of

three dimensional letters---plastic letters came out. Zip-a-tones came out during

my time. There were just a number of different things. They came out with a

typewriter that worked pretty good for times that had a large type on it. We used a

lot of that. Allen Press gave us one of the old handset presses. We learned to

set type. We used that for a number of years, which was a lifesaver for us.

Because when I started there, if we couldn=t do it ourselves, we had to go to the

state printer in Topeka to get any labels done. It was very expensive. A lot of

change had come about. I remember when computers came out, I thought, they=ll

never last, because they were going through things so fast. But now they=ve taken

over the world.

Q: Tell me about your involvement with bees. I know that=s been a popular exhibit.

A: When I came to the Museum, they wanted to put a bee exhibit in. It just never

happened. It seemed like there was always a hang-up. We didn=t have the

expertise to do it. We didn=t know what we were doing. There was always this

idea of putting in the bees. Anyway, Dr. Michner was here at KU at that time, and

he was studying bees. He=s still one of the foremost bee experts. Then Yonger

came in, then Chip Taylor and other people have come on, so KU has been one of

the leaders in bee research, from killer bees to honey bees, for the whole world,

actually. We had a person working there, named Gene Campbell. He worked as

Museum assistant, and helped us. He was in World War II, and then he worked in

surplus in Topeka, and wanted a job down there, so he came down there. He was

kind of a gopher and everything. He had a good heart in him. He ended up

committing suicide. A bunch of us who worked there---a preparator in mammalogy,

and then a preparator in paleontology, and another person---we decided that, after

he was gone, it would to a good thing, in his memory, to do a bee exhibit. So, by

golly, I go over to Dr. Michner, and he tells us how he thinks we can do this thing.

So we build this old tree and put a bee hive in there. By golly, it worked. We got

stung a lot of times, and had a lot of failures, but we learned a lot about keeping

bees in captivity. We even tried to sell honey out of the bee hive for a year or

two, but we found out it took all the honey that they could muster to keep them

going, and we had to feed them besides. That was kind of how the bee exhibit

started, the Gene Campbell Memorial. Now it=s evolved into something else---

whether it=s good, bad, or otherwise. There are still problems with it.

Q: Is it a permanent part of the Museum now?

A: I think it is, somewhat. The Museum kind of evolved in a lot of different ways.

What we did, we had a lot of live exhibits in it. One time we had frogs and turtles,

live ones. We=ve had live spiders, of all types. Then we got into live snakes,

along with the bees. Then we got into the fish. It got to where we were kind of a

small zoo, along with being a Natural History Museum. It has its pros and cons.

Taking care of those live exhibits is very demanding. Even doing the best you can,

there are failures when you=re working with live animals.

Q: Any other favorite exhibits come to mind?

A: There are a number of ones. I did a lot of exhibits over the years. I did the

American bald eagle exhibit. There weren=t any bald eagles in Kansas when I was

a child. They just weren=t here. They almost were going extinct. Dr. Hall, he

was very politically minded. He was out to save the Prairie National Park. He

worked with a lot of wildlife, and he was trying to get the DDT stopped from being

used. They were spraying the towns, and it was killing all the songbirds, because

we were having the Dutch elm disease. He worked the politics all the time. He

got himself in a little bit of trouble a lot of times, because he would go to the

Governor---he wouldn=t go to the Chancellor---he would bypass all those people

and go to the top. A lot of times, I got into the same thing. He would lead me the

same way. Years later, the Corps of Engineers were going out and channelizing all

the creeks and streams and tearing everything up. I was, at that time, the

secretary/treasurer of the Douglas County Coon Hunters Association, and I said,

?This is a bunch of malarkey, they=re just ruining all our streams, and tearing all

the trees out.@ At that time, the Corps of Engineers was organized to keep the

mouth of the Mississippi River open, not to take and do all this other. But they

were getting stronger and stronger till they were one of the strongest outfits in the

country. I was always going to Dr. Hall and saying, ?How can I stop this?@ He

said, ?Write the President of the United States.@ At that time, Nixon was in as

President, and so I wrote to Nixon and said, ?Look, they=re going to ruin this

country. They=re channelizing all of these creeks and streams, and they=re

rushing the waters in the rivers. One of these days, the rivers won=t be able to

take care of it.@ Look, what have we got now? We=ve got floods all up and down

the Mississippi and the Missouri everywhere. After the

Anyway, what I did, I wrote Nixon and he came out and---they say, ?What did

Nixon do? He never did anything for the country.@ Well, he did. He came out

with an environmental impact statement, which has helped a lot of things. They

were tearing up burial grounds of Indians and whites, putting in lakes and this and

that. Well, now they had to go in and do some research on destroying a lot of

these wetlands and everything else. He put a two-year moratorium on the

channelization of Mud Creek. We fought that in the courts, and came to find out

that the people behind doing Mud Creek on the north side of Lawrence was the KU

Endowment Association. They went and bought all the land because---they owned

all that land---that was the old Robinson farm out there, and they wanted to

increase it. But they kept real quiet about it. It took a lot of figuring it out. And

here we were, working against it---a lot of the people in the University, lawyers and

everything else, water people---but behind it was big money. We did stop it, and

that was the last channelization project in America. So we did do some good. I

got into another deal, kind of from E. R. Hall=s influence. They were, at that time,

during Nixon=s reign, taking and rounding up all the wild horses. Horses have

always been my thing. I love horses. They were driving them off the mountains,

and sending them off to the killers in North Platte, Nebraska, and different slaughter

houses. So I heard that Wild Horse Annie, which was the name of Velma

Johnson---she was raised in Idaho, and her dad had wild horses on the place---

and she was working with Margaret Henry, the woman who wrote all the horse

books of that time, Misty, and King of the Wind. She wrote about the mustangs in

Velma Johnson=s life. I wrote to her, and lo and behold, I started doing

illustrations to stop the slaughter of the horses. I did covers for them, and other art

works. If you go back with old Comanche that I took care of all these years, he

was a mustang, at the Natural History Museum. Well, darn if we didn=t get Nixon

to sign the Mustang and Burro Act, which stopped all the annihilation of the wild

horse. That was another thing that, without the influence of E. R. Hall, I=d have

never done.

Q: Did you work with students much?

A: You know, I did. When I got started doing all the art work at the Natural History

Museum, I came up with the idea---I was doing everybody=s thesis work for

Masters and doctoral theses---and people were graduating from KU and going out

and becoming professors, some of the most sought after professors in the natural

history world---in the world, actually. They were putting out top people. So I went

to Dr. Hall and Phil Humphrey, and I said, ?Look, I=m teaching these people all

this art work. Why don't we start up a course in scientific illustration?@ E. R. Hall

said, ?You don=t have a Masters degree, and we can=t pay you.@ And I said,

?Well, yeah, but I could do it under someone else=s name.@ So, Frank Cross, who

just passed away here about a year or so ago---the great ichthyologist, the fish

man. He=s the one that developed all the pen raising of catfish here. The

research was all done here at KU, and now it=s one of the great finds of the world,

feeding the world on pen raised fish. That was his baby. He said, ?Look, Tom, if

you want to do this, you can do it under my name. You just teach the class and

give the grades.@ In 1967, they turned me loose on that, and I started the course

in scientific illustration. I taught that through 1976, and it=s still going today. Linda

Troop picked it up---she was just a young student at the time. She married Bill

Doolan later, the great herpetologist. She=s still teaching it. We started teaching

all of these young men and women getting their doctorate degrees. One of the

main reasons was that, regardless of whether they do any of the illustrations,

they=re going to have to talk to students, and printers. The whole thing was to

educate them in the field of printing---how to do drawings, maps and graphs, and

the whole bit. It=s evolved a lot now because they do a lot of it with computers,

but we had to do it all by hand and photographing the specimens back in those

days, using a translucenta and things like that. Also, I taught a lot of taxidermy to

different people. I had courses that I taught sometimes through the public

education program. I taught it to people from other museums. I trained the

taxidermist for the King of Bhutan a few years ago. That was very rewarding.

Q: Sounds like it.

A: It was. A lot of times you couldn=t speak their language. But there=s an

international language---I found that out because I was chosen to go to Bahrain

and finish their national museum. I had a big staff and had to get into the politics

of what was going on, and why they could never get it done. Actually to pull it off

and get it done---I had about thirty-five people working for me, from Bangladesh,

India, Philippines, Indonesia, Bahrain---and getting along with people, getting to

work together. But I have found out one thing. When you work with a lot of these

people, other than Americans, you=ll find out that Americans are the laziest,

gripingest people in the world. When you try to work with other people, it seems

like they=re more appreciative, and they=ll do what you tell them. Good hands,

and they really want to learn. I still have a lot of interaction and communication

with people from all over the world that I=ve worked with, and it=s very rewarding.

Just a few years ago---the Bhutan thing came about a number of years ago,

actually, ten or twelve years ago. I still hear from them. I helped them get a

whole taxidermy shop shipped to them, and getting their charges lined up to where

we could get sent everything from deep freezes to soy needles. It was through

their Department of Ministry. It=s been real rewarding, and I think that when you

get to know people from other countries---they come here, you go there---you

become more understanding of different civilizations, religions, beliefs. You here all

these comments---@We ought to just nuke them till they glow.@ Well, there=s a

fantastic group of people in the world, if you just get to know them a little better. I

think that really our problem is that there=s not the understanding, there=s not the

communication towards a lot of these people that we ought to have. Actually,

America is very sharing of our ideas. One thing I=ve always done---we never had

any secrets when I was working for a state organization. I still get called up from

museums all over the world---?What do you do in this circumstance?@ We made a

lot of mistakes ourself, and you learn from mistakes.

Q: What were other museums that you traveled to?

A: A lot of them. Sometimes they would come here, too. I worked down at the

School of the Ozarks, and they had a nice museum down there. I went down there

and helped out. I went to Chicago and learned some techniques from a fellow

named Carl Cotton, a great taxidermist who did a lot of mascerations, did a lot of

gorillas---did a bushmen gorilla there. He taught me a lot of things. I did a lot of

the taxidermy for the Smithsonian Institute in the latter years. Bob Hoffman, who

was Dr. Hoffman in mammalogy, he was in charge of a lot of that. A lot of the

people living in Washington, DC don=t really study what an animal looks like, and

I=d ship them frozen animals, and they=d come out so funny looking that finally he

just got me to do the taxidermy work. I did work all over the country. There=s a

number of different places---a lot of historical societies. There=s Wyandot County

Historical Society. I remounted a big elk head that Buffalo Bill had killed right after

the Civil War. It was a very interesting thing when I got into it. We got a new

scalp for it, and they brought me this big old massive set of horns and this mount.

That was back in the days when they actually stuffed them. So when I got to

unstuffing this head, I got all these old newspaper articles out of it that were from

right after the Civil War. He had shot this bull in probably 1867 after the Civil War.

He had been a scout in the Civil War. Out in Colorado, a fellow named Hall had

mounted it. It was really interesting, because I saved all those old newspapers.

And there were ads in there, and everything you can imagine stuck inside this

head. But actually what it was is a treasure nest. Men advertising for women,

women advertising for men. There was already a worry about communism in the

1860=s, and the whole bit. I kept all those things, and gave them back when I got

the mount done. It=s now in the Wyandot County Historical Museum. There was

a lot of things like that. I=ve helped in everything from the Clinton Museum out

here with their situation, to the local museum down here---I=m still working a little

bit with them, through Steve Jansen. Now they=ve got other people. I=ve worked

for the government, evaluating collections. The U.S. Fish and Game. I worked for

the government doing things on the east coast, finding out some very illegal things

that they were doing. I don=t know, there=s just a whole list of places. The

Kansas Museum of History in Lawrence. The Museum of Anthropology in

Lawrence. The Greyhound Hall of Fame in Abilene. The Ralph Foster Museum in

Branson, Missouri. That=s interesting, because of Dr. Branson, the baby doctor

here in Lawrence, and Jessie Branson. Dr. Branson=s grandfather---that town was

named after him. Blaine University out here in Compton. Watkins Community

Museum downtown here. Florida State Museum---I mounted a little fox and a

whole family of those things for them. Topeka Zoo---I did a lot of things for them,

illustrations, Christmas cards, you name it. Safari Museum in Chanute, Kansas. U.

S. Fish and Game Service. Kansas Raptor Program---mounted eagles, and that

sort of thing. Kansas City Museum in Kansas City. I designed the Water Fowlers

Hall of Fame in Mound City, Missouri. I don=t know if they ever got that thing

built, because they got into a lot of politics. It may get built someday. I judged the

national Wood Carvers Show, and was guest speaker at their banquets in 1991,

=92, and =94. I did some work as a guest speaker in the prisons in Lansing,

Kansas, in 1993 and =94. That was a different kind of experience all together.

They have an art club, and so I went up there and showed them some things. I

coordinated and installed the National Museum in Bahrain. I did the Fry Game

Room in Montezuma, Kansas. Out here at the new Stout Museum---I=m still doing

some things for them, through the Elway family. I was a judge at the International

Wildlife Art Show at the Raintree Hotel in Kansas City, Kansas. We did some

exhibits out here in the WalMart, some tracks and things. By working with a lot of

different animals and prehistoric things, seeing evolution---and believing in God,

actually. A lot of people say that you can=t believe in evolution and be religious,

but I don=t think it=s true, because things are evolving and changing constantly. I

did the new breed standards for the American Hampshire Sheep Association, in

1999. I did all the art work for the American Hampshire Sheep centennial, the

trophies and everything in 1989. Some of the prints I did showing how the sheep

evolved from the early days, and how it changed by putting different breeds

together---that print went all over the world. It was also the same year that the

American Hampshire Sheep Association began in England, in Hampshire. It was

named after the county. So that=s kind of led on to other things. I did things for

the Discovery Channel on TV. I just did the Bambi Raptor. I did the big flying

tranadon over there in the visitor=s center at KU. By getting into doing dinosaurs

and things like that, working with Larry Martin and other paleontologists, we put in

the Dinofest in Chicago about two years ago. We brought that specimen back, and

then we mounted that camersoraus in the Museum, hoping that we=d get a new

addition so that we could put the whole family together. I worked with Larry Martin

on the first archeoptrics---put the first woodland musk ox together. Errol Hooper

and I with the paleontologists. Studying these bones individually is one thing, but

when you put them together, you find out a lot more about the animal. By my

experiences in taxidermy and other work, I learned how animals move, and how to

draw them. You find out things they can do, and things they can=t do, by studying

the bones. It=s been a very rewarding life. I tell you what. I never became rich,

but I never became bored.

Q: You followed your father=s advice.

A: Yep, a party=s what you make it.

Q: It sounds like your community involvement has really been an outreach of your

professional life.

A: There were a lot of other things I was involved with, like the 4H Club. I got a

number of awards when I was in 4H myself, and then I became a 4H Club leader,

and worked with my children, and other children. I was a Key Award winner when

I was in 4H, and made the Who=s Who. Also, when I was in college here, I

worked with Poco Fraser, the old artist, a fantastic man. I even sold him a horse

one time, Tar Baby. He tried to save old Fraser Hall. He was an architect as well

as a great artist. He did the Campanile, all the art work in there. I made Delta

Phi Delta, which is the national honorary art fraternity. I=ve had a blessed life

really. I don=t know why I was so blessed. People say it=s better to be lucky

than smart. I think that if I died this instant, I=ve been more blessed than most

people.

Q: How are you enjoying retirement?

A: Retirement? I tell you, you don=t retire. They talk about how you get acclimated

to retirement. I go back and think about the first time I got trifocals. I asked my

mother, ?How do you use these things?@ She said, ?Put them on and wear them

and don=t think about it.@ I think it=s got to be that way. I=m working harder now

than even when I thought I was working terribly hard at a full-time job. We=re

working on jobs all over the United States and all over the world. Dr. John Docks

wanted me to come to Korea and mount big camersauroses and do a big museum

there, in Seoul, South Korea. He did teach at the University of South Korea,

museum techniques, all different facets. Because right now, I=m at the place

where I love to give what little knowledge I=ve got to other people. You live on

through what you can share. We=re working on a triceratops, the base of it, for a

person in Boston. They=re wanting us to do some things for a new shopping

center in Arizona. We=re working on a project for Indianapolis Museum. We took

the musk ox apart, and then Errol Hooper and I are going to have to put it back

together. We=re working on a small project for the Anthropology Museum. I=m

working on an ongoing project for the Stout Museum in Montezuma, Kansas.

There=s just no end to what situations are out there. The world is hungry for

people who want to work on it and share it. I don=t want to end up spending all

of my time abroad, when you get my age. I love to go to different places and

meet people. They wanted me to come to Ecuador, but due to some of the

problems there, financial and---and it=s not too safe a place to go. You know,

I=m not sure where it is too safe to go. I never have really been bothered by that

too much. A lot of people say, ADon=t do it.@ Costa Rica is another one. I=m not

sure what the future holds. I=m showing horses. I raise a lot of good Shetland

ponies. We had some in the Hall of Fame last year. We=re really doing great this

year. My (?), he foals out about thirty-seven foals a year. I=m foaling out now in

the teens. We put on our own sale. You don=t get bored with life.

Q: It doesn=t sound like you=ve retired at all.

A: No, I haven=t. By the time you train your own horses and try to help people all

over the country---you get plenty of requests for this. Wood carvers call all the

time, wanting to know how to do certain things. Artists call. So there=s plenty to

do. If you can=t find something to do, it=s your own problem.

Q: Do you have time for your grandchildren?

A: Yes. I was just out at some baseball games yesterday. Cody is going to be a fine

athlete. One day you=ll hear his name, Cody Scribner, playing for KU in baseball,

and football. Jake, his older brother, is one of the finest actors I=ve seen, and a

musician, with a fine voice. Very talented, great mind. My granddaughters in

Chicago, they=re riding barrel racing horses. My grandson=s in California. So life

goes on. We babysit and take care of my granddaughter during the day, while her

parents are working. It=s very rewarding, going on another generation and seeing

all of your hardheadedness come out in some of these kids.

Q: In what directions do you see the Museum going in the future?

A: I=m really worried about the Museum right now. I really have got some concerns.

To tell you the truth, the hiring practices that KU has come up with, hiring people

that are not qualified. I=ve sat on certain committees on the campus and a

number of different things. I was Employee of the Year back in 1993, and I

worked with Chancellor Budig---such a fantastic man. We worked to get it where

they would hire the best people and go through search committees. Now, they cut

corners and they bought off people, and they=re not hiring the best people

qualified. I think the Museum of Natural History is in a world of mess, to tell you

the truth. That=s pretty blunt, but they=ve brought people in who weren=t qualified

in any area, and put them in charge of divisions. I think the state of Kansas better

look very soon and very tightly, because I think you could lose your Natural History

Museum. It=s one of the finest that came down the pike, and I think that it=s

going to get riddled and maybe even closed. I think that it=s very sad. The strong

departments, where we=ve put out all these good people, they=re getting into more

direct hires. People are not accountable for the monies and the grants that they

get. They misuse funds. It sounds pretty doomsville, but it=s damned honest.

You know, Black went on to the L. A. County Museum and just about ruined it---

bankrupted it. And I think possibly this could happen in our situation, very soon---

a lot sooner than people think. Departments are getting pulled together, and a lot

of good people are leaving. They=re actually just getting---I hate to say this, but

there=s been people just plain lied to. They were just abused. I think that=s very

bad. Nobody wants to go in and do an audit, and get to the basis of some of

these things. I think that the University as whole, since we got Hemenway, has

become this way. He=s not accountable. I think he=s very cold. People think

he=s wonderful. I think he=s sold us down the creek. I wouldn=t give him a

penny. I think that it=s got to change. I don=t know what it=s going to take to

change it, but it=s going to have to.

Q: Thank you very much. I=ve enjoyed speaking with you.

A: I hate to end like that, but it=s. . . .

Q: I wanted your honest opinions.

A: Darned honest.