Season's Greetings 

from your friends

Horse-drawn sleigh, Broad Street at East Front Street, 1901

at the

Kellenberger Room!

Away in a Manger

 

or, How I worked my way up from junior shepherd to senior Wise Man, one Christmas at a time.

Living Nativity Scene, Centenary Methodist Church, New Bern, N.C., 24 Dec 2001. Sun-Journal photograph.

by John B. Green III

As a small child, I was fascinated by the Nativity Scene that my father brought down from the attic each year along with the rest of the Christmas decorations. It was the same one that he had enjoyed as a child. There was the stable with its dried moss roof and the manger filled with straw. There were sections of fence which surrounded the stable. And there were figurines of all the Bible characters - Mary and Joseph and the baby Jesus, angels, shepherds, and the Three Wise Men. When arranged beneath the Christmas tree and lit from above,  it seemed to my small self to be magical. I would stare at it for hours and if I squinted my eyes I could almost imagine the figures coming to life.

Nativity Scene, maker unknown, c. 1930

Imagine my amazement, when I had grown a little older, to be taken to see the Nativity Scene that stretched across the lawn of Centenary Methodist Church - my church - and which included real people and real animals!  My astonishment was complete when my father revealed that he would, on occasion, struggle into costume and play a shepherd or Wise Man or Joseph himself in the very Nativity Scene arrayed before me.  From then on we always went  to see the Nativity Scene on Christmas Eve.  My mother and I would stand on the courthouse steps across the street trying to detect my father among the shepherds or Wise Men.  There they stood, perfectly still, as Christmas carols filled the frosty air.

Nativity Scene, Centenary Methodist Church, c.1990.

The Living Nativity Scene, as it was called, had first been performed for the community in 1954, two years before I was born.  By the time I was old enough to participate, the performance had become a well-oiled effort.  The hour-long display would be on view for three nights, usually between the hours of seven and eight, with the final performance on Christmas Eve.  Each hour consisted of three twenty-minute shifts of actors. The goal - and the magic - of the performance was to accomplish the shift changes of twelve actors each in such a way that a casual observer might not notice that a change had taken place.  The first shift was easy enough.  The actors had already moved into place and assumed their poses before the lights were turned on.  The arrival of the second and third shift actors was more complicated.  Moving at an even pace, two actors at a time would move into position behind the actors they were to replace.  A brief sideways movement and hand-off of any prop and the exchange was complete.  The third shift would stay in place until the lights went out at 8 o'clock and then silently file off.   The wild cards in this silent tableau were always the live animals who occasionally got skittish and the spectators who occasionally got rambunctious.  A farmer for the one and a policeman for the other were always able to calm things down.

I began participating in this spectacle when I was about ten or 12 years old. My first role was that of junior shepherd.  The shepherds stood off to one side in front of a small wood fire and with one or two live sheep staked out to graze beyond us. My job was to keep the fire going with wood stashed under the low bench I sat on. After a few years of playing one or another of the three shepherds, I graduated to Wise Man. It was during this time that I was joined by my younger brother Bill, and together with our father, we started a family tradition of the three of us serving one shift each Christmas as the Three Wise Men. I enjoyed these years not only because I was with my father and brother, but because standing perfectly still for twenty minutes in the cold, clear air allowed me to settle my thoughts and appreciate the scene around me.

My brother and I bedecked in the splendors of the Orient.  I'm on the left.  Bill seems to be portraying a wise guy rather than a Wise Man.

This year will see the sixty-sixth consecutive performance of Centenary's Living Nativity Scene. My brother and I go to different churches now and my father has passed away, but come Christmas Eve, you will find me standing on the courthouse steps, taking it all in, and grateful for the memories.

Talking Turkey

Wherein, we pay homage to the magnificent creature that Ben Franklin declared to be "a bird of courage."

John James Audubon, artist, The Birds of America, c.1838.

by John B. Green III

As you go to your local food mart this week to select one of those frozen behemoths, too overgrown in life to walk or fly, remember, please remember, that the grocery store turkey is descended from a stronger and nobler breed - the American Wild Turkey.  Nearly extirpated in North Carolina in the 20th century, by 1970 there were estimated to be only 2,000 Eastern Wild Turkeys (Meleagris gallopavo silvestris) left in the state.  Fortunately, through a decades-long project of live-trapping and relocating turkeys from other areas, North Carolina's turkey population has been restored to more than 265,000 birds today.  What follows is a selection of accounts by North Carolina writers of encounters with the wary, elusive, and beautiful Wild Turkey. 

Artist unknown, John Brickell, The Natural History of North-Carolina, 1737.

The wild Turkeys I should have spoken of, when I treated of the Land-Fowl.  There are great Flocks of these in Carolina.   I have seen about five hundred in a Flock; some of them are very large.  I never weigh'd any myself, but have been inform'd of one that weigh'd near sixty Pound Weight.  I have seen half a Turkey feed eight hungry Men two Meals.  Sometimes the wild breed with the tame ones, which, they reckon, makes them very hardy, as I believe it must.  I see no manner of Difference betwixt the wild Turkeys and the tame ones; only the wild are ever of one Colour, (viz.) a dark gray, or brown, and are excellent Food.  They feed on Acorns, Huckle-Berries, and many other sorts of Berries that Carolina affords.   - from A New Voyage to Carolina by John Lawson, 1709

Duane Raver, artist, Wildlife in North Carolina, April 1977

We flushed a wild turkey hen and seven or eight half-grown young ones up out of a thicket of reeds.  They flew up so suddenly that we all just sat gaping at them.  I didn't have any idea turkeys could fly so swiftly - the tame ones are so clumsy.  But those wild ones sailed off to the woods like bullets and flapped their wings but once or twice.   - from Down Goose Creek by William Seeman, 1931

David Williams, artist, Wildlife in North Carolina, October 1986

A sudden roar of powerful wings and a crash of branches from a group of trees on the creek bank almost abreast of the canoe - and seven great turkey gobblers left their roosting place and winged their way back into the depths of the swamp.  A wild turkey is always grand, but that fact is never impressed on me more strongly than when a big gobbler unexpectedly takes wing from a tree near at hand.  Multiply that by seven - and you have a real thrill!.  - from A North Carolina Naturalist, H.H.Brimley: Selections from his writings, 1949

Ken Taylor, photographer, The Wild Turkey in North Carolina, 1989

The Old Man whispered, "As soon as it comes gray light you're going to see some turkeys.  They may fly in, light in trees, look around, and then come down.  They don't do it so much in the morning, but I never trust a turkey.  He's smarter than you are most of the time.  Likely they'll walk.  If it's a little flock, there'll be a gobbler and mebbe three, four, five hens.  If it's a big flock, there'll be more'n one gobbler and a whole passel of hens. I want you to shoot whatever's biggest that's closest to you, when I punch you, and not before."  - from The Old Man and the Boy by Robert Ruark, 1957

Charles L. Ripper, artist, From Laurel Hill to Siler's Bog, 1969

The big gobbler had become a legend long before I saw him.  Black as a crow, and with his small blue head raised to its full four-foot height above the ground, he was the most magnificent wild animal - furred or feathered - I have ever seen.  There is something noble and touching in the pride of a wild thing.  I saw it in the black gobbler, in his aloneness and in his defiance, mixed with an uncanny keenness of eyes and ears that made even those who hunted him look upon him with awe.  There was mystery about him, too.  Perhaps it lay in his strange disappearances and his wild cunning that made him invulnerable for years to even the smartest turkey hunters.  - from Laurel Hill to Siler's Bog: The Walking Adventures of a Naturalist by John K. Terres, 1969

Mr. Truman keeps a promise

or, Why Harry Truman attended church in New Bern on the first Sunday after his 1948 election victory

President Truman waving to the crowd, First Baptist Church, New Bern, Sunday, 7 November 1948.

By John B. Green III

Running for an unprecedented fourth term in 1944, President Franklin Delano Roosevelt chose Senator Harry S. Truman, Democrat from Missouri, as his running mate and prospective Vice President.  Roosevelt won reelection handily and on January 20, 1945 took the oath of office as president for the fourth, and what would prove to be, last time.  Eighty-two days later on April 12, 1945, Roosevelt died  of a cerebral hemorrhage in his cottage at Warm Springs, Georgia.  Truman became president at Roosevelt's death and was sworn in as such that evening in the White House in Washington. 

Harry Truman completed Roosevelt's term and in 1948 announced his intention to run for president in his own right.  Truman was given little chance of defeating the Republican candidate Thomas E. Dewey, especially with the Democratic electorate divided by the Dixiecrat candidacy of Strom Thurmond of South Carolina.  Undeterred, Truman conducted a vigorous campaign which included a whistle-stop tour of much of the country.  On Election Day, November 2, 1948, Truman fooled all the pundits by defeating Dewey with 49.6 per cent of the popular vote to Dewey's 45.1 per cent and with 303 Electoral College votes to Dewey's 189 votes.  

For some time, Harry Truman had maintained a "Little White House" in the Commandant's residence of the U.S. Navy base at Key West, Florida.  There Truman could exchange the pressures of Washington for the relaxing atmosphere of Key West, although these visits always proved to be working holidays.  Truman had planned just such a vacation for the week following the 1948 election, which brings us to Mr. Truman's promise.

Headline, New Bern Sun-Journal, Monday, 8 Nov 1948

Some months earlier, the Rev. Thomas W. Fryer, pastor of First Baptist Church of New Bern, had enjoyed a brief meeting with President Truman in Washington.  In the course of the meeting, Rev. Fryer invited the president to visit New Bern and First Baptist Church if he were ever in the area.  The President replied that he just might do that.   Rev. Fryer thought no more of the promise until Thursday, November 4, when a Secret Service agent arrived to inform the startled Baptist minister that the president would attend church at First Baptist in three days.  The President was flying to Key West but would stop in New Bern to fulfill his promise to Rev. Fryer

President Truman's motorcade approaching on Middle Street, New Bern, Sunday, 7 Nov 1948

On Sunday, Nov. 7th, Harry Truman's presidential plane, the Independence, touched down at Marine Corps Air Station, Cherry Point.  A motorcade swept the President the sixteen miles to New Bern and First Baptist Church.  Hundreds of New Bern citizens lined Middle Street as the motorcade approached. Waiting to meet the president were Rev. Fryer and his family, North Carolina Governor R. Gregg Cherry and Governor-elect W. Kerr Scott.  The president was accompanied by members of his administration, military aides, and his Chief of Staff, Fleet Admiral William D. Leahy.  An invitation-only congregation awaited Mr. Truman inside the church. 

The President pausing before entering the church, Sunday, 7 Nov 1948.

The president was escorted to his seat by Craven County Superintendent of Schools and fellow Mason, Rev. Robert L.Pugh.  Truman and his party sat on the right-hand side of the church, five rows back from the front.  After joining in the hymns and attentively listening to the sermon, President Truman declared "It was as good a sermon as I have ever heard." 

President Truman and Reverend and Mrs. Fryer, following the service.

The president posed for photographs on the front steps of the church following the service.  He was then whisked back to Cherry Point to continue his flight to Key West.

And that is how Harry Truman kept his promise.

MARTIANS!

 

How New Bern survived the Halloween 1938 broadcast of  The War of the Worlds.

Illustration by Alvim Correa from the 1906 Belgian edition of The War of the Worlds.

..

by John B. Green III

At 8 p.m. on Sunday, October 30, 1938, a radio play based on H.G. Wells 1898 novel The War of the Worlds was broadcast across the United States by the Columbia Broadcasting System.  Wells' novel, set in 1890's England, recounted the invasion of Earth by Martians.  Using huge, three-legged fighting machines equipped with "heat rays", the Martian invaders rain destruction across England before succumbing to Earth-based "microbes" for which they have no immunity.  The radio play, directed by American actor Orson Welles, revised the 1898 novel by moving the story forward in time to 1938 and placing the Martian invasion in New Jersey.

By accident or design, the realistic sound effects along with broadcast techniques that mimicked news bulletins, were mistaken by thousands of Americans (including quite a few New Bernians) as live news coverage of an actual Martian invasion of the United States.  Although Orson Welles and others involved in the broadcast would later deny that they intended any harm, the panic and resulting outrage would lead to near-arrest for Welles and numerous calls for investigations by Congress and the Federal Communications Commission. 

Associated Press coverage, Sun-Journal, Monday, 31 Oct 1938.

So, how did the citizens of New Bern take the presumed alien invasion?  Data is scarce and boils down to one local newspaper column and what my father told me about the event.  New Bern had three local newspapers in 1938: the Sun-Journal, the New Bern Times, and the New Bern Tribune.  The Sun-Journal carried the news service accounts of the aftermath but little notice of the local reaction.  The appropriate issues of the New Bern Times are missing.  Fortunately, the New Bern Tribune for Monday, October 31, 1938, contains the local news column of Billy Arthur, popular newsman and wit.  Arthur devotes the first four paragraphs of his column to the local response to the supposed invasion

George Green declares that Sunday night's broadcast, 

which so many folks thought was the end of the world,

turned the last five black strands of hair in Fred Scott's 

head to gray.

New Bernians were really frightened. All over town 

yesterday we heard of how so and so went home and 

prayed, how some recited the 23rd Psalm over and over, 

how Nathan Frank rushed home to his wife and children,

and Mr. Scott went home to see about his family.

Frank Allston hurriedly conveyed the news of the 

broadcast downtown, and the folks on the corner turned

on radios and buried their heads in them until the announcer

spurted the people from Mars were headed toward Fort

Bragg and would be there in 17 minutes. Then the fellows 

started scurrying home.

No one yesterday was ashamed to admit he was frightened,

because his fears were shared by everyone who heard the

broadcast.

All well and good, you say, but what about your father's account?  Here it is: My then thirteen-year-old father was with his father at a corner gas station that fateful night.   A crowd had gathered around the station's radio. Picking up on the confusion and growing concern of those around him, my father asked his father what they ought to do.  My grandfather replied "I think we had better go home."  And so they did, and they spent a tense but otherwise uneventful evening.  The morning paper revealed the truth of the matter and they and the rest of New Bern went on with their lives.

A special thank you to co-worker Caitlyn Wilson who suggested this Halloween topic.

The Whale

"a neat and newsy little sheet"

by John B. Green III

New Bernians have cheered or cursed many types of newspapers over the last 270 years or so.  Most have been general circulation, commercial papers, which appeared daily, semi-weekly, or weekly.  A few have stood out because of their names or format - Daily Nut Shell, Daily Delta, or the weekly Hornet's Nest.  Some were notable because of their content, such as A. R. Raven's The Locomotive, which, though it carried some news, was largely a humor and literary paper.  Newspapers like the New Bern Democrat or the Campaign Anti-Radical were overtly political.   

New Bern has also had a few special purpose newspapers, as well as papers which fit into particular subsets of journalism, such as the amateur Little But Loud which we profiled in our last post.  The special purpose newspapers include school papers and papers published by civic and fraternal organizations. There were also papers which were tied to a particular event or occasion.  New Bern's The Whale, which was published in 1891 and 1892, was just such a event-dedicated paper.

The Whale, Vol.2 No. 3 [24 February 1892], New Bern, NC

The East Carolina Fish, Oyster, Game and Industrial Exhibit was held in New Bern annually between 1888 and 1900.  It served to showcase the products of the town and surrounding area as well as provide events and programs of educational and entertainment value.  The fifth annual exhibition held in late February 1892 was typical and provided six days and nights of exhibits, horse races, balloon ascensions, band concerts, and theatrical programs guaranteed to hold the attention of residents and visitors alike.  The guide to all that the fair had to offer was the exhibition's own newspaper, The Whale. 

New Bern fairgrounds, west side of George Street between Pine and Cypress streets, February 1897.  Photo from the collection of George Holland, as published in the New Bern Mirror, 11 December 1964.

The New Bern Daily Journal set up a complete print shop as a exhibit in the Industrial Building. Visitors could watch the printer perform all the operations of producing The Whale and then receive a free copy of the paper.  The Whale measured eight by eleven inches and consisted of four pages of three columns each.  

The Daily Journal, New Bern, NC, 28 February 1891, p.1

The Whale's brief career lasted only two years, appearing during the 1891 and 1892 fairs. It was replaced by a similar paper called The Fair Observer for the 1893 and later exhibitions.

The Daily Journal, New Bern, NC, 30 January 1892, p.1

Below are details of the three front-page columns of The Whale, Volume 2, Number 3 [February 24, 1892] that should give the reader an idea of the wonders that greeted the visitors to the Fifth Annual Exhibition of the East Carolina Fish, Oyster, Game and Industrial Association.

Little But Loud - "Poor But Proud"

or, how New Bern contributed to a national movement.

 

Front page, Little But Loud, New Bern, NC, October 1878.

by John B. Green III

Measuring 2½ inches high by 2 inches wide, New Bern's Little But Loud was smaller than a modern business card.  It may have been the smallest "newspaper" ever published in North Carolina.  I put newspaper in quotes because the Little But Loud was not a general circulation, commercial newspaper like the Daily Nutshell and all the other papers published in New Bern over the years.  The Little but Loud was part of a phenomenon known as "Amateur Newspapers" or "Amateur Journalism."  Usually engaged in by teenagers or young adults as a hobby or minor money-making venture, it was especially popular during the second half of the 19th century and first quarter of the 20th century.  Some teenage practitioners would later become well known: Thomas Alva Edison and Orville and Wilbur Wright are examples, as well as H.L. Mencken, author and critic, and Jesse Grant, son of the president, who set up his tiny press in the White House.

Advertisement for J.F. Dorman's printing presses, The Newbernian, 25 October 1879

While some youthful publishers made do with discarded bits of commercial equipment (Edison) and others cobbled together their own unique presses (the Wright brothers), the hobby blossomed once small, practical, "table-top" printing presses began to be patented and manufactured in the 1860s. Dozens of models became available and were widely advertised.  J.F.W. Dorman of Baltimore, for example, advertised his presses in the The Newbernian on Oct. 25, 1879 with the double pitch of "Educate Your Boys by Giving Them a Printing Press!" and, targeting his other potential market, "Business Men, Do Your Own Printing. Economy is Wealth."  

Page from catalog of J.F. Dorman Company, 1888.

The least expensive presses sold for around a dollar, an amount that some of the boys were able to scrimp and save to accumulate.  More expensive presses were financed by indulgent parents who no doubt saw such a hobby as a way to keep their boys out of trouble.  But, lest you think all this was but a passing fad, there soon were hundreds of young printers across the country and a score or more teenage publishers in North Carolina.  There were enough junior printers, in fact, to warrant the establishment of the North Carolina Amateur Press Association in 1877, with its semi-official trade journal, the North Carolina Amateur.

Masthead, North Carolina Amateur, Rose Hill, September 1879

Which brings us to the Little But Loud of New Bern and its young editors, Ham Disosway and T.C. Howard.  Harry Hamilton Disosway and Thomas C. Howard were both about 18 years old when they founded the Little But Loud.  Disosway was the son of New Bern druggist Israel Disosway, and Howard was the son of New Bern shipbuilder and mill owner Thomas S. Howard. Their reasons for starting the paper are unknown, as is the type of press they used, or how they acquired their equipment.  Inspiration and assistance may have come from Howard's first cousin James M. Howard who had recently begun to publish his own amateur paper, the Boys' Courier.  The Little But Loud was issued monthly, with a year's subscription available at 20 cents, paid in advance.  The contents were chiefly humorous with no real news coverage. The issue shown here does contain one advertisement for C. Erdman's Emerald Cigar Factory, an actual New Bern business. 

Little But Loud, page two.

The Little But Loud burst upon the scene in September 1878 with Volume 1, Number 1.  There would be at least two other issues, October 1878 (Number 2) and November 1878 (Number 3). Whether or not  Disosway and Howard gave up on their venture after November 1878 is unclear. At any rate,  no other issues survive.   [The New York Public Library has the most complete collection of the Little But Loud: September, October, and November 1878. The North Carolina State Archives and the North Carolina Collection at UNC-Chapel Hill each have one copy of October 1878.] 

Little But Loud, page three

Despite the brief run of their paper, both Ham Disosway and T.C. Howard were active in the amateur journalism community with Disosway serving as Treasurer and Howard as Sergeant at Arms of the North Carolina Amateur Press Association.  In later years, Disosway would become a druggist like his father, and Howard would be involved in his father's various businesses.  Like most of their fellow "amateurs," neither would chose printing or publishing as a career.

Little But Loud, page four.

News in a Nutshell

Masthead of the Daily Nut Shell.

by John B. Green III

Scores of newspapers have been published in New Bern, from James Davis' North-Carolina Gazette of the 1750s to the Sun Journal of today.  One of your blogger's favorites is a curious little paper called the Daily Nut Shell.  I say "little" because it originally measured just eight inches by eleven inches although later issues were slightly larger. Edited and published from 1875 to 1883 by George E. Pittman, Confederate veteran, city councilman, and Freemason,  its columns were filled with the usual newspaper fare: local news, advertisements, railroad and steamer schedules, legal notices, and obituaries. 

The Daily Nut Shell, 5 April 1875, front page.

The doughty little Nut Shell competed against a crowded field of New Bern papers during its eight years of existence.  These included the New Bern Journal of Commerce, the Newbernian, the New Bern Weekly Times and Republic Courier, the New-Bern Democrat, and the Daily Commercial News.  Yet it persevered by promoting itself as the ideal advertising medium, being "cheap and spicy" and "read by almost every reading person of Newbern and many of the small towns near by" and that, by being physically small, "every advertisement that is inserted comes prominently before the reader."

The Daily Nut Shell, 5 April 1875, page two.

At one point the Daily Nut Shell disappeared in an 1882 merger with the Daily Commercial News only to return under its own proud standard in 1883, the last year of its publication.  The following year saw the arrival of the New Bern Daily Journal, which, through twists, turns, and mergers, survives to this day as New Bern's Sun Journal.

The Daily Nut Shell, 5 April 1875, page three.

George E. Pittman continued in the newspaper business in Raleigh before moving to Washington, DC where he worked in the specification department of the Government Printing Office.  He died in Washington in 1903 at the age of fifty-seven.

The Daily Nut Shell, 5 April 1875, page four.

A selection of advertisements from the Daily Nut Shell follows.  

Can you see anything? Yes, wonderful things!

Sometimes, opening a box of donated books is almost as exciting as opening King Tut's Tomb

The mysterious box.

by John B. Green III

On November 26, 1922, Howard Carter, British archaeologist and Egyptologist, and George Herbert, 5th Earl of Carnarvon, Carter's financial backer, engaged in the breathless conversation that provides the title to this post.  Carter had just chipped a small opening into the sealed door of the previously unexplored tomb of King Tutankhamun in the Egyptian Valley of the Kings. Carter was peering into the opening with a candle and trying to process what he was seeing. In one of the most famous exchanges in the history of archaeology, the anxious Carnarvon asked him "Can you see anything?", to which Carter replied, "Yes, wonderful things!"

The object that was in the mysterious box.

Our opening of book boxes doesn't ever produce anything to rival the contents of a king's tomb, but we do occasionally find curious objects among the old books that the usually anonymous donors may or may not have intended to include: nails, screws and other hardware; defunct electronic devices; clothing; money (small change which goes into the donation box, although a bank envelope containing cash resulted in your blogger bounding out the back door and across the parking lot to return the cash to the owner); family photos (which we hold for a time in the hope that the owner may return - they never do); personal items (some extremely personal); and general trash and bug-ridden debris (I kid you not).

Once in a while, though, we find the good stuff: books, pamphlets, photographs, or memorabilia which make valuable additions to the Kellenberger Room's collections. Then there are the objects which are so interesting or remarkable that we can't bear to pitch them out, even though we may have no real reason to keep them.  What follows is the description of the finding of one of these "wonderful things."

A little over a year ago, your blogger was at the library's back door examining some donated boxes.  The boxes were visibly old and long-sealed.  Upon opening, a collection of 80-year old engineering and drafting text books was revealed.  In the bottom of one of the boxes was the small box shown in our first illustration.  The box was heavy and my first thought, given the nature of the books, was that it might contain drafting or engineering instruments. Carefully sliding the box open revealed the object in the second illustration.  Finding and pressing the hidden latch allowed the object to open accordion-like and to reveal its true nature. Before me sat a Kodak Model 1A Autograph camera, c. 1920, in pristine condition and lacking only the long-unavailable specialized film to make it fully functional.

The object revealed - a Kodak Model 1A Autograph Camera.

The Kodak Autograph was called that because of a special feature. On the back of the camera is a hinged aperture which, when opened, reveals a small section of the specialized backing of the negative.  After taking a photo the user would turn the camera over, open the door, and using the stylus provided, scratch a notation or caption onto the negative.  Once developed, the finished print bore the caption in white lettering across one end of the photograph. 

The autograph feature.

A collection of just such photographs from my Grandfather Green's photo album is included below to demonstrate the uses and abuses to which the Kodak 1A Autograph could be put. As for our Kodak 1A Autograph, that "wonderful thing", carefully closed and returned to its storage case, rests in honored glory in the Kellenberger Room.  We kinda like it.

The End (of the box)