The Doctorate 1957-1962

By Tannie Stovall

This novel relates the life of Thomas Tims also known as Big T between 1957 and 1962. At the beginning of this period, he acquired a Bachelor of Science degree from a small southern African American college. At the end, he began his first professional position after obtaining a PhD degree from the University of Minnesota in Nuclear Physics.
The novel begins at Thomas' college graduation, where we learn that during his four years at college he did not sever ties with his low class background, which many at his college, students and faculty, looked upon with varying degrees of concern. They noted his disregard for social norms and his sexual licentiousness and feared that they might lead to his ruin in addition to tarnishing the reputation of his alma mater.
Nevertheless, in the Fall after his graduation, he entered the University of Minnesota Graduate School in Physics with a strong belief in the American dream and in his eventual success. However, it became evident that his fellow physics students, who mostly came from prestigious northern colleges were better prepared than he and their social culture was different from his. He was besieged with loneliness and fears that maybe he was inferior, morally and intellectually, to his white colleagues. Partially out of desperation he married an African American girl, with whom he separated while she was pregnant for a white mistress, Barbara Goodbody.
During Thomas' stay at Minnesota, a vigorous debate was taking place in the United States on the position of African Americans in the country. Thomas entered this debate with other African Americans. The African Americans on campus were divided among those who were for complete assimilation of African Americans in the existing American society, others who sought both assimilation and a revolutionary improved American society and others who wanted complete separation of the two groups including division of the territory. Questions of current interracial relationships along with assorted difficulties of African Americans matriculating in predominantly white institutions were frequently discussed.
When Thomas was close to graduation and looking for employment, it became clear to him, that having a white companion or wife would severely limit their opportunities. After suffering a serious frustration crisis, he made an extraordinary gesture to prove his love for Barbara then left her.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Jun 22, 2011
• ISBN: 9781462886876

Tannie Stovall

Authors of the four published novels 'Two Centuries in Two Weeks' and the trilogy the 'The Johnson Family Saga', former research scientist, former urbanist and cofounder of the French cinematographic company SARL Miller Stovall, the parent company of 'Two Bulls on the Hill Productions', Tannie Stovall has lived most of his adult life abroad in Nigeria, Spain and France. He was born in Atlanta Georgia and received academic degrees from Morehouse College in Atlanta and the University of Minnesota in Minneapolis where most of this novel is situated. He currently lives in France between Paris and Saint Tropez.

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Copyright © 2011 by Tannie Stovall.

Library of Congress Control Number:       2011909675

ISBN:         Hardcover                               978-1-4628-8686-9

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Contents

FOREWORD

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

FOREWORD

I wrote this fictional account of a young African American who had lived all his life in Atlanta Georgia before going to graduate school in Minnesota in 1957. The actions in the novel takes placed between 1957 when I graduated from Morehouse College in Atlanta and 1962 shortly after I was awarded a PhD degree in Physics from the University of Minnesota. Like many first novels, it was inspired by some of my personal experiences. In 2009, when it was believed that the death of one of my friends in graduate school was imminent, I reestablished contact with some of the people that partially inspired models for characters in the novel.

I mentioned to one of the persons who greatly inspired the novel, Dr. Donna B. Rosen, that I had written it almost 50 years earlier. She asked to see it and subsequently encouraged me to publish it. In 1967, I had sent the manuscript to a literary agent who declined to represent me and returned it. I place it in my archives and pursued a career as a research and academic scientist until I retired in 1997. After my retirement, I dabbled in cinema productions becoming one of the founders of ‘Two Bulls on the Hill’ productions and I published four novels. This, I think prompted Dr. Rosen and another friend of mine, Constance Foerster-Bourges of San Francisco California to encourage me to reread the novel. I did and agreed with them that among other things, it was an interesting historical document. The action takes place during the period when the struggle was intense to establish affirmation action and other measures that helped insure the civil rights of African Americans. I suppose that I was vain enough to think that this novel can be a valid contribution to the literature concerning that period of American history.

The only reserve I have publishing this fictional work is that some of my old friends, some of which I am no longer in contact, might identify with one or more of the characters and unjustly feel hurt or offended. Others might be vexed to be reminded of either their youthful licentiousness or prudishness. Some of what occurs in this novel might appear shocking. I hope only to a small minority. My justification for publishing this novel in spite of some reservations is that I sincerely believe that though being pure fiction, it does represent a fairly accurate description of events that actually occurred.

Now, I would like to address a few lines to some persons, both living and dead that might feel that they were the inspiration for some of the principle characters of this work. To the two persons who might unjustly identify with Tiger and Tricky, the principle character’s first office mates at the University of Minnesota, I would like to give thanks for facilitating my first years in the Physics Department. You were the first two Whites that I knew and worked with whom I thought that I simply had normal human relations. The ups and downs we had were never severe.

I would like to express my appreciation to Lester in Atlanta. We did many things together with girls and women that now I’m not proud, but I can’t deny that I enjoyed doing them at the time. We both evolved, I towards my destiny and you eventually towards a richer spiritual life.

I would like to say to Racine, my girlfriend in Atlanta, that sometimes I wish that it was possible that I could have had the courage and strength to hold on to you. You represent for me the tragedy of young African American women from that epoch that could not find suitable mates because black men were severely limited by the existing social and racial system that existed in Atlanta and much of the United States before the end of institutionalized racial segregation. The limitations placed on most black men made it extremely difficult to assume the posture that an American woman normally expected of a man.

To Windy—my first girlfriend in Minneapolis and with whom I have maintained interim contact, Windy the black girl with the mainstream personality—I want to tell you again that I did finally recover from your dropping me in such an unceremonious manner.

Now, I would like to apologize to Paul Cohen. First of all, there were two persons that inspired Paul Cohen and I apologize to both of you and I hope that you will continue to speak to me after this book appears.

To Bob Wilson and Ted Jones two black student athletes with whom I completely lost contact as soon as I left Minnesota, I would like to say that I think about you from time to time. Bob, during that period of racial tension, you were soundly for the assimilation of the various racial groups and optimistic for future racial relations in the United States. You were the sort of person that eventually militated for the NAACP and supported Martin Luther King. Ted, you were pessimistic and leaned towards revolution, Black Nationalist and the Black Panthers. I wonder what both of you are doing now.

To Professor Henderson, my scholastic and thesis advisor, I want to say thank you. Your treatment of me was more than generous and I appreciate it. In this novel, I caricaturized you, but having known you I believe you will have a good laugh and not take offense.

Curtis Powell was older than I and acted somewhat like a father figure for me. I appreciate that he forgave me for taking his girl friend, Barbara Goodbody from him. In the years afterward, I saw him from time to time. Jokingly, he would tell me that I would never take another woman from him.

And to Barbara, I appreciate the fact that you forgave me for the cowardly way I acted towards you and even more for your not thinking that I so acted.

To Ike, I salute you wherever you are. You are the personality in this fictional novel that most resembled me. You, like me wanted to get away from ignorance and poverty. You succeeded more honorably than I.

Obviously, the character, Big T or Thomas Tims was inspired by yours truly.

To the reader I want to say that I believe that most of the slang terms are familiar, however for the benefit of those who have had very little contact with slang terms of the 1950’s; a ‘cat’ is simply a male and a ‘chick’ a female.

CHAPTER ONE

Up until that time, he had not felt so stupid in his life. Here stood Big T on a hot June day over the grave of a dead man that he didn’t even know, wearing heavy winter pants that were at least two sizes too large and an academic robe that contained several neat black patches. It was late May 1957. It was his commencement and as usual at Anderson College, on that somber occasion the men of Anderson paraded in academic regalia onto the quadrangle, to the grave of former college president John Hope. There the most honored of their numbers beseeched his blessing and guidance and then each and every one pledged that he shall be brave, loyal and true to dear old Anderson College.

After the dead president, the living president, the big money contributors to the College, and the Lord, had all been given their due, Big T was released into the loving arms of his mother. He was tempted to destroy a little of the pride that his father and mother had for him by asking if he could now become a fireman.

In reality, this fate would have been well for him, for standing there with a slip of paper, which said that a B.S. degree written in Latin would be mailed to the holder upon payment of $10 to the Bursar’s Office, he had only a wan hope of finding something better. Big T was worried rather than happy at graduating. So were about 25% of his class. The rest were the ones who were running about introducing their parents and fiancées to their former teachers and fellow students. Most of these would become waiters in fashionable restaurants and the luckier would become teachers in the Atlanta Public School System starting around $230 a month. The other 25% would find themselves firmly established in their family’s businesses, or in some large North American graduate school, or in downtown New York, the Latin Quarter in Paris or an assortment of other more exotic places.

As Big T stood there for a moment thinking of his possibilities, Racine caught his eye. Racine was a young lady that Big T slept with on occasion and who felt that as a consequence of her nocturnal adequacies, Big T should marry her. She was the first girl to whom Big T had access that all other men did not. Maybe as a result of this, Big T wanted to marry her also. But he wanted to wait at least until he was established in graduate school the following fall. An ideal schedule for him would have been to make final arrangements during the Christmas holidays. He informed her of this and when those tender moments took place she reluctantly agreed, on the condition that she be given an engagement ring as soon as possible.

Everything seemed wrong to him. He had thought when he began college that when he left, he would be wiser and be much more informed than he was upon entering. For the first two years, even the performance of the upper-classmen did not sway him from this belief. However, slowly he changed and when he became an upper-classman himself, it was plain to him that all that was required in order to graduate was average intelligence and regular trips to class and two weeks of cramming for exams each year. If one dressed nicely and was always well groomed, the requirement of average intelligence could be waived.

As a student at Anderson, Big T was a failure and he knew it. He had earned a weak B average and the animosity of the administration and faculty. The first conflict came about when he was a boarding freshman and was required to be in the dormitory at 10:30 PM each night. Since he was in the habit of making love at least three times a week, to abide by the school rule, he felt, would put an undue hardship on him. After he had exhausted every ruse he could think of, and after many violations, he was told that one more infraction would result in his dismissal. At this point, he gave in and slowly developed a burning dislike for college.

Secondly, his academic attitude was not what the College wanted, for example, take his philosophy course. He could not logically refute the absurd conclusions to which Socrates would bring his listener; he would just say, I don’t believe that shit. Works like Descartes’ Discourses and Kant’s Critiques were presented to the students indirectly as the professor called it. That is, he did not explain directly what the long complicated sentences meant because this way the student would come by the knowledge too easily and thus not appreciate it. Moreover, he professed that if he told them directly this would stifle them because they would never realize what great capacity they had for understanding such things. So here was Big T, a college graduate and not knowing whether ‘synthetic a priori judgments’ were possible or not.

Literature was even worse. Richard III to him was a real living character. On the other hand, Hamlet was unreal—this explained all the talk about him; since he was unreal, one could try to realize him as one saw fit. This led, of course, to endless conversation. This Big T supposed was fine because endless talk seemed to be what the professor wanted.

The Greek dramas he felt were fine for the ancient Greeks just as Hillbilly music today is fine for Hillbillies. Except for Aristophanes and Ovid, Greek and Roman literature was inapplicable to his life and culture. The historians were another matter; Caesar and Thucydides were men who could live right across the street from him, except that it would be extremely unlikely that William Tatum could write something like the Peloponnesians Wars.

Another constant source of friction between Big T and Anderson was his personal appearance. At Anderson, the men were expected to be always well groomed. Blue-jeans, kakis and sneakers were frowned upon. Big T had worn these throughout his college career because they were inexpensive apparel. It really wasn’t the case that he tried to dress better and the best that he could do was "blue-jeans and sneakers; rather, they were the best he had and he never tried to do better.

He was led to believe that if he expected to gain some of the finer things in life after his sojourn at Anderson, he would have to have letters of recommendation from the President, the Dean, and some of the important College professors. Near the end of his college career, he believed, probably falsely, that he would not get these letters of recommendation or even favorable recommendations for graduate school. However, when he brought the matter up to one of the Anderson’s high officials who commented Why son, I have even seen you with a dirty shirt on, he decided not to ask for recommendations from prominent officials or staff. After he was admitted into several prestigious graduate schools solely with recommendations from his Physics teachers he thought that maybe he would have received recommendation from Anderson if he had asked.

Big T, his parents and Racine were standing in front of the President’s house which was located on the campus, when Professor Williamson, who had been his freshman advisor during all that unpleasantness of his first year, presented himself. After the banalities about how much he had admired Big T’s spunk and strength of character during those days and how well he had reacted to consultation, Big T said, Later with you cat, and left. Professor Williamson watched him walk away not knowing that ‘Later with you cat’ was a slang way of saying ‘go to hell’.

*     *     *

In his youth, Big T never had a close male friend with the possible exception of Lester. There were men whose company he kept but these were usually admirers of his who felt that with the something extra they could teach him, he would be almost as good as they; Lester was one of these. Lester was four years Big T’s senior. While Big T was in college, Lester was in Korea. Lester had returned minus a left index finger but plus an automobile and a government pension. Lester had a brilliant smile, which Big T reluctantly conceded was genuine; a handsome physique as opposed to Big T’s skinny frame; a real talent for dancing, and naturally many women, which Big T did not. Big T was definitely going to leave Atlanta for graduate school in the fall, which Lester was not. This was the only thing Lester admired in Big T, though he didn’t think that Big T’s leaving would change his life much one way or the other. Lester sincerely liked Big T but he was not his companion, because although he was fun, he only saw Big T when he felt magnanimous. Their activities together consisted solely in the pursuit of women, at which Lester was considerably more adept than Big T. In this endeavor they were successful. Or rather Lester was successful, for there were times when he would get off a woman and tell Big T, All right, you can have her now. When the woman protested, usually a strong word from Lester would silence her into submission. And it usually ended with the woman telling Big T how much nicer he was than that man Lester and how much better his performance had been, all as Lester listened indifferently.

During the summer between college and graduate school Big T decided not to take a job because he could not find one that he felt was commensurate with his standing as a college graduate. Instead, he spent his days reading and his nights with Racine part of the time and the rest with Lester.

The Atlanta neighborhood in which Big T and Lester lived was what one would call lower middle class. It had all substantial housing in 1950, somewhat less so in 1957 and by 1965 it was a complete slum. This surprised no one. The city predicted this in 1952, but they had felt that the depreciation would be much slower. All the young and old people of the neighborhood knew it, some resentfully, but most philosophically. Roughly all of the people, who lived in the English Avenue district, as the neighborhood was called, had lived in slum neighborhoods before. Many moved out of English Avenue District to Dixie Hills or Hunter Hills, which were neighborhoods of substantial housing. Properties in Dixie Hills or Hunter Hills were more expensive than properties in the English Avenue area. It rarely happened that a family could leave the slums of Buttermilk Bottom, Summer Hill, or the Fourth Ward, and go directly into Dixie Hills. Of the families that moved into English Avenue District most of them stayed there at least one generation, a few returned to the slums. This kind of mobility meant that English Avenue District would slowly become a slum. There was, however, another important factor which led to the same result. Economically, the people were becoming worse and worse off. Right after World War II, the Negroes who lived there were for the most part skilled craftsmen, people who had jobs in defense factories, cooks and waiters in high class white restaurants, etc. As the requirement of union membership became more and more a condition for employment in the South, many of the jobs that they held were replaced by machines and white operators. Nevertheless, when Big T was much older, he would still consider his stay in English Avenue District as one of the happiest of his life.

It was a life he knew and loved. He loved the music of Little Richard, Bobby Tuggle, Ray Charles, B. B. King, Chuck Berry, Jimmy Reed and a host of other singers who seemed to be always singing what he felt. These men sang of their lives in a fashion that he considered superior to anything that the Italians or Germans had done. And the music from the middle class Negro church he felt was superior to any such music ever. He felt, in particular, that the music from some churches that were once low class but were now middle class was the best music of all. The music in black lower class churches is spirited, rhythmic, moving, but undisciplined and lacking in grace. This seemed to be the Negro church music that whites liked the best. But as the churches became more middle class, the music became disciplined and celestial.

Big T used to come to a juke joint near the Little Creek Baptist Church on Sunday mornings alone or with others who liked beer or a little moonshine with their religion. It was on one such Sunday morning that Lester appeared with a woman and a 150 pound turtle, which immediately became the main topic of conversation. People related occasions when they had seen bigger turtles, then others related occasions when they had seen even bigger ones.

Finally the chant:

"It may be the last time,

May be the last