Blarney, BS and Old Main

After returning from Vietnam, I entered the master’s program at the University of Arkansas. Gail and I both had part-time jobs; I was on the GI Bill and had a quarter-time assistant-ship.

We raked in well over a thousand dollars a month. Since we had no debt and little overhead, I probably had as much money at that time as I ever have in my life. My quarter-time assistantship consisted of work at the University of Arkansas Museum located then on the fourth floor of the Old Main Building, the oldest building at the University.

When I wasn’t giving guided tours to grades one through three, I was unwrapping rocks, bones and other artifacts. There seemed to be at least ten times more material in the back than there was in the actual museum, most still packed in the same boxes as when it came to the University.

It was sort of creepy working late in the old museum because there were rows and rows of human bones and complete skeletons, mostly stacked unceremoniously on the various shelves. The rock, mineral and ore specimens were wrapped in old newspapers, most very old. I spent half my time, it seems, reading old newspaper stories.

One of the museum’s greatest treasures, at least in my mind, was the giant quartz crystals donated by geologist Hugh D. Miser. Some of the crystals weighed a thousand pounds or more. They are rare and irreplaceable.

I loved leading tours through the little museum and seeing the eyes of the young people, all agog with discovery. It struck me that enthusiasm and desire to absorb knowledge, filled kids of this age. Less than professional teachers often manage to blunt most of this desire and enthusiasm.

Yes, I had a canned story that I used on all age groups. I usually ended at the quartz crystal display where I attributed the collection to Hugh D. Miser, Arkansas’ greatest geologist ever. One day, a group of adults followed along as I conducted my tour. When I concluded, the teachers and kids thanked me and departed. One of the women listening to my conducted tour approached me.

“Excuse me, but you said that a man named Miser was Arkansas’ greatest geologist. I beg to differ. It was my father John Branner.”

I know my mouth must have dropped as this unknown woman invoked the name of the first Arkansas State Geologist. I took a breath and said, “Your Dad was truly a great geologist and did so much for Arkansas. He and Miser were both great men and I was judgmental to say Miser was the greatest. It is only because I’m a mineralogist and he donated those beautiful crystals that I admire so much to the State. I apologize if I offended you because your father was truly a great man.”

The woman must have accepted my apology because she smiled, shook my hand and thanked me. She and her party departed with smiles on their faces, leaving me with a rapidly beating heart and a greater understanding about blanket endorsements.

My thesis advisor, Dr. K almost busted a gut laughing when I told him the story. He shook his head and said, “Wilder, you may never make it as a geologist but you have the best line of bulls—t of any student I’ve ever had.”

Fiction South