LEA BOOTH January 17, 1997 — Mame Warren, interviewer Warren: This is Mame Warren. Today is January 17, 1997. I’m in Lynchburg, Virginia, with Lea Booth. Did I tell you this was Mame Warren? I don’t even remember, I’m so excited to be here. Booth: Class of ’40. Warren: Class of 1940. But my first question to you is how did you decide to go to Washington and Lee in the first place? Booth: Well, Mame, I went to high school in Danville and was the editor of the high school newspaper. I got interested in journalism. I had a marvelous journalism teacher there, Mrs. Hill. Oh, she was great. She used to teach at Columbia University Journalism School in the summer, summer school. That’s how I got interested in journalism. My father had come from Richmond. We moved to Danville when I was an infant. My father’s boyhood friend was Dr. Douglas Southall Freeman, you remember, who was the biographer of General Lee. I was in Richmond with my dad, and he took me by to see Dr. Freeman. He said, “Douglas,” he said, “this boy wants to go into journalism. Do you have any advice for him?” And I’ll never forget, Dr. Freeman said, “Well, Gus (my father’s nickname), he might as well peddle peanuts on the street corner as try to get into journalism without a college degree.” And my father said, “Well, what do you recommend for him?” 1 He said, “Well, how about Washington and Lee? They’ve got a first-rate journalism school there. How about going to Washington and Lee?” And that, Mame, is really what stimulated me to go to W&L. But I worked a year after high school. This was while I was working. I worked a year after high school in several jobs, including a job on the Danville newspaper. After what Dr. Freeman said, “Might as well peddle peanuts on the street corner,” I went on to W&L, and it was the best decision ever made—no, it was the second best decision I ever made in my life. The first, of course, was marrying Mary Morris. But I had a marvelous experience. I mean, this couldn’t have been a greater experience for me— Warren: Tell me about it. Booth: —than going to school up there. Well, I don’t know. It was just a great bunch of guys, and I got involved in various campus activities. The first thing was to go to work on the Ring-tum Phi, the student newspaper. I played basketball and baseball my freshman year, and I joined a good fraternity where the food was delicious. It was a wonderful experience. Warren: Can you remember your first impression, the first time you saw the campus? Booth: The first time I saw the campus was the spring before I went there. An alumnus named Leroy Hodges, who was in the tobacco business in Danville, had just graduated up there about a year or so before that, took me up there one weekend to look at the school. We stayed in his fraternity house, which later became my fraternity. We looked all over the place at everything. My high school record was not the best in the world, I mean academically, it really wasn’t. But the superintendent of schools in Danville was my father’s close friend, and he wrote Dean Gilliam a letter and begged him to accept me for admission to W&L, and it was on the basis of that that I was accepted and on probation. I was taken in on probation, with the proviso that I had to make at least a C average the first semester to stay or they would kick me out. 2 Warren: Go ahead. Tell me anything. Booth: Well, I think I had—excuse me, this sounds so immodest, awfully immodest to me, but I think I had something like two As and three Bs, or three As and two Bs, or something like that. I don’t remember. But I remember that Dean Gilliam was shocked, and I made the Dean’s List my first semester. I was on probation until then. But I worked my “uh-uh” off. I remember we would stay up. I was rooming with Dick Boisseau from Petersburg, who became an all-American football player at Washington and Lee. Dick and I would be up half the night studying. We lived over in Graham dormitory on the fourth floor. My father had given me an old L.C. Smith or Underwood typewriter to take to school with me, because I’d learned two-finger typing, and I could type my essays and things. One night Dick was asleep, he had gone to bed, he was asleep, and I’m sitting over there across the room typing, bang, bang, bang. He just couldn’t stand it any longer. He got up, grabbed my typewriter—he was strong as a bull—grabbed my typewriter and threw it out the window from the fourth floor of Graham Hall. He threw the typewriter, and it landed in the street, there’s a street that runs up by the dormitory. Oh, Lord. Warren: Well, that wasn’t very kind. Booth: That was one of the most memorable events of my freshman year. [Laughter] Warren: I dare say. Booth: What Dick did to that typewriter. But he’s still a dear, dear friend of mine. Warren: So how did you decide which fraternity to join? Booth: Well, I was invited to a couple of others, the Beta House, which is next door. But I had stayed up there, see, as a guest, that spring before when Leroy Hodges took me up there, so I was partial. I was bid by the Kappa Sigma fraternity, but Bob Spessard, whom I’d known—he’d played basketball at Roland High School and I’d played basketball with them, well, especially the all-American basketball players at 3 Washington and Lee—was rushing me for Kappa Sigma. And I loved it. It was a grand fraternity, but I said, “Oh, Lord, it’s way out here on South Main Street, and I have to walk in to school and then walk back to lunch and walk back for baseball practice and walk back.” I said, “I know I’ll never be able to afford an automobile.” By the way, in those days, I think the tuition at Washington and Lee was $275 a year. “And I know I’ll never be able to afford an automobile, so I couldn’t join Kappa Sigma, and I joined PiKA. It was very convenient. After our freshman year, we lived in a fraternity house, and it didn’t take you five minutes to get to class. You could just walk up the hill past Lee Chapel. But I think there were something like nineteen fraternities at Washington and Lee, and all of them were good. It really was a fraternity system, but what an asset to the university because it provided dormitory space for hundreds of students. We didn’t have any upper-class dormitories when I was in school. Lees Hall and Graham Hall were both for freshmen. Upper classmen lived all over—if you didn’t live in the fraternity house, you lived all over town. That’s why I joined a fraternity, to have a place to eat and sleep. Our board was a dollar a day and twelve dollars a month for a room, and, gosh almighty, think of what it must be now. Oh, boy. But, anyway, it was a good fraternity system, although I never got active in fraternity politics or campus politics. I stayed away from politics, because I worked on the Ring-tum Phi all through, until—I think in my junior or senior year I got a job as a student assistant in the news bureau, doing mostly sports publicity, working in the news bureau, and was paid for it. I was paid enough to pay for my tuition, something like fifty dollars a month—I mean pay for my room and board. I think I got fifty dollars a month as a student assistant in the news bureau. A fellow named Carter, Dick Carter, was the publicity director and then he was also assistant professor of journalism. I was majoring in 4 journalism under Tom Riegel, who is one of my role models, a marvelous teacher. There has never been a greater journalism teacher than Tom Riegel. Warren: Why was he so good? Booth: He was just so incisive and direct, and he would bring up these interesting subjects and give us interesting things to write about. His course in the law of libel was one of the great journalism courses in the nation. It was terrific. I still remember some of his lectures in the law of libel. They had some marvelous teachers there. The faculty was just utterly superb, they really were. Frank Gilliam, who was the dean of students, was my first English teacher. He was a hell of a good English teacher. Then Dr. Shannon, whose son Edgar was in school with me—you know Edgar became president of the University of Virginia, great guy, still a good buddy. Dr. Shannon. All of us had to take one of the science courses. I had had chemistry and physics in high school and didn’t like either one, so I took geology. Dr. Marcellus Stowe was head of the geology department, and he was nationally prominent, Dr. Stowe was. I think when World War II started, the federal government hired him as the head of the Mining Division or something to produce—anyway, he was very productive in World War II. But all of my teachers were just absolutely superb. Warren: No one has ever talked to me about Frank Gilliam as a teacher before. What was he like in the classroom? Booth: He was good, good. The other day I found—and when I went to work, when I got out of the navy after the war, after having won the war in the Pacific single-handed, I went to work at Washington and Lee, you know, running the news bureau for a while. Dean Gilliam and Mrs. Gilliam were just like parents to me. I feel utterly devoted to them. Washington and Lee was a great school then. Jimmy Leyburn came in there as academic dean. It’s hard to really evaluate the school objectively for me because I’m so prejudiced about it. It was just a perfectly marvelous school. 5 Warren: Well, I’m not looking for objectivity here. I want your subjective opinion about all this. Booth: Well, it was the greatest thing that ever happened to me, and then later to marry a Sweet Briar girl who had six generations of her family, beginning with Augusta Academy, I was the only person in my family, in the Booth or Lea—or the Lea family, that went to Washington and Lee, but my wife had all these. When our twin sons were graduating in 1980, they were the seventh generation of Mary Mural’s family to attend Washington and Lee. Warren: Well, that’s quite a record. Booth: One time my son George was walking across the campus, and Jim Whitehead, who at that time was the college treasurer, said, "George, what do you hear from home?" George said, "Lots of advice." [Laughter] Warren: I really like hearing about the teachers who were important to you, but I know one person who had a big impact on you was Cap’n Dick Smith. Booth: Oh, marvelous guy. Warren: Tell me about him. Booth: Well, he was my baseball coach. As I said, I worked in the college news bureau my junior and senior years doing sports publicity, and that’s how I got to be close to Cap’n Dick. But I played on varsity baseball my senior year, and that’s when, that story I showed you, about breaking up Porter Vaughn’s [phonetic] no-hitter. Porter Vaughn went directly to the big leagues after he graduated from the University of Richmond— and breaking up his no-hitter. Typically, after each game I would go up to the Western Union office on Main Street and write up the game for the Associated Press. It would be wired by Western Union. But I would play in the ball game and then cover the game for the Associated Press, for the newspaper. That was a unique situation, I’m sure. I’d go up there hyping, glorifying, Lea Booth, the General’s "rangy first baseman," and that article about breaking up Porter Vaughn’s no-hitter. 6 Two or three years ago, Porter Vaughn found a clipping that had been in the Richmond Times-Dispatch and sent the clipping to me. I called him up, and I said, "Porter, what you don’t know is I wrote the story." But, anyway, Cap’n Dick was a father figure to me, he really was. I remember when I went in the navy, they were going to put me in a security job that required top- secret security. I later was in radio detection in the Pacific. Before they would give me clearance to do that kind of work in the navy, they had to investigate me, and the place they went to investigate me was Cap’n Dick Smith. I mean, I was passed and then went on with top-secret work in the navy because of Cap’n Dick. Warren: What was he like as a person? Booth: He was just jolly. He was a jolly guy. Like when I knocked down the line drive and swallowed my tobacco and it made me sick, he’d say, "Go back there and stick your finger down your throat, Lea." But the great story about Cap’n Dick, we were playing—who was it we were playing? University of Michigan, I think. These Yankee teams used to come down south in the early spring to take advantage of our warm weather. By the way, I remember we opened the season with Ohio State and went about two innings, and they had to call the game on account of snow, in Lexington. I remember Yale came down there, and Ohio State, University of Michigan. Anyway, we were playing Michigan. Charley McDowell, who is a legendary newspaper columnist and TV commentator, Charley was one of the great guys. Charley’s father was a law professor there, and his lovely mother, she ran the law school. But he was our bat boy. The Michigan pitcher threw a ball that got through the catcher, and the ball rolled to the backstop. Charley McDowell, the bat boy, was walking along, and he reached down and picked up the ball. Here’s the Michigan catcher frantically coming to chase the ball because there was a Washington and Lee runner on third base. Then our runner came in and scored from third base because our bat boy was holding the ball. 7 The Michigan coach, who had been a big league pitcher—I think his name was Fisher, I’m not sure. The Michigan coach came over to Cap’n Dick, our coach, and said, “Cap’n Dick, that runner has got to be sent back to third base.” He said, "That’s interference. The rule book would say that’s interference." Cap'n Dick said, "What do you mean, interference?" He said, "Well, your bat boy picked up the ball." Cap'n Dick said, "My bat boy? What do you mean? I never saw the little S.O.B. before in my life." [Laughter] That’s the kind of simple of humor he had. When I worked there after the war, he and Mrs. Smith used to have me up for dinner. He was, again, another father figure to me. He and Frank Gilliam, Tom Riegel were father figures. Of course, Dr. Gaines, he was a legend there. Oh, boy. Warren: Oh, tell me about him. Booth: Well, every time he opened his mouth, something—by the way, I had the pleasure of taking a course in philosophy there. It was an elective my senior year, and the title of the course was The Bible as Literature. Dr. Gaines taught the course. So we got to hear him lecture three times a week. He was a tremendous teacher of religion. He was world-famous. He was indeed. Why? Because of his marvelous speaking talent. He just was a good image and front man for that school. He enhanced the school’s image, indeed, nationally. I’m sure he did, and a good man to work for. See, he hired me—he’s the one that hired me after the war. I came back and worked for about four years, and then was granted a leave of absence when I was invited to be the chief clerk and staff director of the Administration Committee in the House of Representatives in Washington. Warren: Let’s not leave your student days quite yet. I’m not ready to leave those yet. Booth: Let me say this. I was granted a leave of absence to take this job in Washington for the experience that it would give me. It was 1950, and I was to come back to Washington and Lee. You’d better check the minutes of the trustee meeting when I was 8 granted a leave of absence, because I’m still on leave of absence, and I’m thinking about coming back. Scare John Elrod to death. Scare John Elrod to death when he heard that I’m still on leave of absence and might come back. Warren: That’s great. [Laughter] Booth: By the way, I like him. He looks good to me. Warren: We all do. Booth: I think they picked a winner. I think he’s a winner. I really do. Warren: We are all really fond of him. There are certain things that are uniquely Washington and Lee, and one of those things is the Mock Convention. Did you participate in the Mock Convention? Booth: Mame, only as a delegate, as one of the Virginia delegates to the convention. I had no leadership role at all that I recall. I don’t recall having any. But I did have to have publicity, and I covered the Mock Convention my senior year. I covered it for the Associated Press. You saw the picture—I don’t know, there’s a picture in one of those scrapbooks. That’s right. You’ll find it in one of those scrapbooks, of our press table there. Here I’m in there with another W&L student and the manager of the Western Union Office. We sent our stories by Morse code. That’s how modern we were. But the Mock Convention was nationally known in those days. I don’t know if you knew this, but I think it was a convention in 1924, when something like the hundredth ballot at the convention that they chose—who was it—John W. Davis, as the nominee, and he was a W&L guy, you know. But the W&L boys, I think they’ve erred only twice in the history of the Mock Convention, is that right? Warren: They’ve been pretty good. Booth: This year they had it on national television. I think it’s given W&L a lot of national visibility. Don’t you think so? Warren: Oh, absolutely. I had a marvelous time myself. Booth: Well, here’s to the generals. God bless them. 9 Warren: Absolutely. Absolutely. Another uniquely Washington and Lee thing is the Fancy Dress ball. I’m sure you’ve got some memories of that. Booth: Oh, Lord, yes, all those beautiful girls there. In those days, the dances at Washington and Lee, the formal dances, were quite glitzy. I mean, they were quite formal. All the students were required to wear tuxedos or tails, white tie and tails. They had the best big-name bands. They had the nation’s foremost name bands there, like Kay Kyser and Benny Goodman and Eddie Duchen. I don’t remember all of them. But they were wonderful affairs. By the way, you wouldn’t think of taking a girl to a dance in those days without buying and taking her an orchid corsage or gardenias or something. All the girls were all dressed up, and it was truly formal. Warren: We’re going to take a little break now. [Tape recorder turned off] Okay, you’ve just shown me a note about the Assimilation Committee. Tell me about it. Booth: Well, back in my day, we had a freshman Assimilation Committee to indoctrinate us in the traditions of the campus, one of which was we all had coats and ties always. The only ones who could get by without wearing a coat and tie, you had to wear a monogrammed sweater, for winning a monogram in athletics. Then you wouldn’t have to wear a coat and tie. But freshmen, up until Thanksgiving or Christmas vacation, freshmen were required to wear a beanie cap, these silly little caps that we had to buy there. It was so stupid. There was an Assimilation Committee of seniors, the nastiest guys on campus. I came back from a weekend, I’d gone home for a weekend and came back, and I’d lost my beanie cap when I had gone away. I came back and was going to class on Monday morning without the beanie cap, and I got caught for not wearing my beanie cap. So here’s this card mailed to me on November 7, 1936, addressed to Mr. Lea Booth, Lexington, Virginia. It was still delivered to me. I don’t know how. You notice a postcard cost a penny then. It says, “Having violated the 10 traditions of Washington and Lee University, you will be at the meeting of the Freshman Assimilation Committee on the third floor of Tucker Hall Monday night, November 7, at 7:30.” And it’s signed by the secretary of the Assimilation Committee. Warren: What happened? Booth: Tucker Hall was the Law School. What happened was I got up there and they said, "“You were seen walking across the campus without your beanie cap on. Booth, take down your pants.” This really is true. I said, “What?” And they got a wooden paddle, and I mean they beat me until it bled, beat me bloody. I remember the name of the guy who did it. I’ll never forgive him as long as I live. To this day, I still have some trouble because of it. But it was the worst form of hazing you ever saw. And they beat me with this wooden paddle because I didn’t have on my beanie cap going to class Monday. That was disgraceful. Thank God that Washington and Lee doesn’t have an Assimilation Committee now. The Assimilation Committee would call you up for any violation, of not having a coat and tie, or not having a beanie cap, or whatever you did, you see. I’m not going to give you the name of the secretary who signed it. He was not the one that beat me. The one that beat me was a prominent football player there. I’ll never forgive him. But that was the only memorable negative experience I can recall at Washington and Lee. I loved everything that happened to me up there except that. Warren: Was that a typical punishment? Booth: I guess. I don’t know. But the guy who beat me, if he’d used a little paddle, maybe, it would have been all right. But I mean he beat me. I had to lean over, and it was on the third floor of the law building, and he just beat the hell out of me. I ought to look him up in the alumni directory and see if he’s still living. I remember his name. Warren: Go back and get him, I think. 11 Booth: That’s why I have a new directory. I’d like to have him apprehended and brought to court for, not sexual harassment but whatever kind of harassment it is. Warren: During lunch you all told me a story that I just really want to get about a trip across the mountain and some students being stopped by the police. Booth: Well, the story goes that these students were driving over to Sweet Briar for their dates at Sweet Briar. One of them was Pat Robertson, who was the son of Senator Willis Robertson from Lexington, and the other one was Fred Vinson, who is the son of the Chief Justice of the United States, and the other one was Robert E. Lee IV, Bobby Lee, a student there. They got stopped for speeding. The state trooper stopped and said, “All right. Show me your identification cards. What are you doing?” So Pat Robertson pulled his out, and he says, “From Lexington? Are you related to Senator Willis Robertson? Is Senator Robertson kin to you?” Pat said, “That’s my father.” Then to Fred Vinson he said, “Young man, what is your name?” He said, “I’m Fred Vinson.” He said, “Fred Vinson. That’s the name of the Chief Justice of the Supreme Court.” Fred said, “He’s my father.” And he looked in the backseat at Bobby Lee and he said, “Well, I suppose you’re going to tell me that you’re Robert E. Lee.” [Laughter] Warren: Great. That’s wonderful. [Laughter] Booth: That was the story. All three of them, I think they went to school together. Three good guys. Fred Vinson was a damn good athlete. He played on the baseball team, basketball, too, I think. Bobby Lee was a very good guy. I remember I was a PR director there, and I got a call from Life magazine, saying they understood that General Lee’s great-grandson was in school there. I said, "That’s right." 12 "Well, we’re going to come there, and we’re going to send a photographer to get a picture of him." And they did. I think it was in Life magazine. I haven’t got it, but I think they got a picture of Bobby Lee, not a big story, but about his having enrolled in his great-grandfather’s college. Pat Robertson. I remember Pat Robertson and Charley McDowell and Dr. Bean, chairman of the History Department, another darn good professor, those three and the other urchins in Lexington used to hang around a drugstore across the street from the State Theater. I’ve forgotten the name of it. They used to hang out there all the time. Pat Robertson, now look at him. But they would loaf around that drugstore in those days. Charley McDowell and I keep in pretty close touch. We’re still good buddies. By the way, Charley Mac—I hope that the alumni magazine is going to do something about this. I want you to talk to Brian Shaw about it. I’ve got the program that was given out— Warren: I was there, too. That’s where I came up and met you. Booth: Oh, that’s right. Warren: I introduced myself to you there. Booth: The alumni magazine is going to do an article with Charley. Charley Mac is a credit to that school. Warren: I gave them Andy McCutcheon’s remarks. I got a copy of his remarks. Booth: I thought Andy did a grand job. Warren: Didn’t he do a marvelous job? Booth: Oh, he was the best one of the speakers. Warren: I thought so, too. Booth: He was the best. Warren: I thought so, too. Booth: Didn’t he tell a story about the little S.O.B. [unclear]. Andy did a dandy job. We went up there together. Stewart Brown, in Richmond, invited us, and we rode in a 13 chartered bus to Washington. We had the most delightful evening. No strain at all. I mean, Stewart Brown picked us up. We stayed with our son George in Richmond. He came and picked us up. He took us down to the chartered bus, and we got on the bus. The bus parked in front of the National Press Club. It was just a perfectly arranged occasion. The whole thing was just utterly delightful. Warren: It was very nicely done. Another person I noticed when I was looking at your yearbook, who was a classmate of yours, was Sydney Lewis. Were you friends with Sidney? Booth: Oh, sure. Oh, gosh, if you interview Sid, ask him to show you his first paycheck. Warren: Tell me about it. Booth: Well, Bobby Hobson, Louisville’s premier lawyer, Bobby Hobson and I were roommates in the PiKA House. Bobby used to come over here to Lynchburg. He was courting a Randolph-Macon Woman’s College girl. Just about every weekend he’d stop by Doyle’s Florist Shop here to buy a flower to take to his date at Randolph-Macon, so he got to know the Doyles. Well, Bobby arranged for us to be—Doyle, he, and I were Doyle agents on our campus to sell flowers for the dances. You wouldn’t dare take your girl to a dance at W&L without sending her a corsage. So we had a monopoly on the flower sales, you might say. Doyle Florist provided the flowers, and they’d bring them over. We had an agent in each fraternity house. Each fraternity house, they would take the orders, a student, they’d take the orders and turn them in to us. We’d take them over to Lynchburg, they’d fill the orders and deliver the flowers in Lexington. Our agent in the Phi Epsilon Pi House was Sid Lewis. We would pay the agents 20 percent of the gross. They would get 20 percent of the amount of the sale. Sid—I found this check six or eight years ago in some old stuff. I had the whole set of checks from this experience drawn on the Rockbridge National Bank. We had a little account there to run our florist business from. This was, I think, our senior year. And I found this check 14 made out to Sydney Lewis that I had signed. Eighty cents. Eighty cents was twenty percent of the sale of a four-dollar corsage. He sold one corsage for four dollars, and he got an eighty-cent commission. Well, several years ago, I showed this thing to Ross Millhiser, who was on the board at Washington and Lee. Ross was President and CEO of Phillip Morris and was on the board, the W&L Board of Trustees. By the way, his son, Tom, I think is on the law school board now. And Ross said, "Oh Lord, give me that thing." He took it to New York and had it laminated and put in a plastic block for a paperweight. And there was the check, Rockbridge signed it on the back, Sydney Lewis, eighty cents, signed Lea Booth. It said "Doyle Florist by Lea Booth." Several years ago, I showed it to Frances, Frances Lewis, and she said, "Oh, we’d love to have it." I think Sid’s got it now, probably on his desk right now. Warren: That is great. Booth: It’s his first paycheck he ever got. And to think that Lea Booth gave him his first paycheck. Warren: That’s great. Booth: I remember that when Sid was organizing Best Products Company, Dick Boisseau, who was my freshman-year roommate, Dick said that Sid had come to him and asked him would he like to buy some stock in this new company he was organizing. He said, "My God, Lewis, any company you can run I don’t want any stock in." We’d joke. We all got along. Sid was on our freshman basketball team. He had an eye condition. His eyes were not very sharp if he didn’t have on his glasses. We’d say, "No, Sid." He’d be dribbling up the floor, and we’d say, "No, the goal is this way," and then we’d point to the goal. You know, just needling him. Sid was very popular in our class, very popular. Everybody liked him. A lot of fun. He’s always been a lot of fun, as you know. Just a 15 dandy guy. And I’m not surprised that he has been one of Washington and Lee’s most benevolent supporters. God bless him and Frances. They’re great. We see Sid at the beach. We just drop by there. He has a lovely house at the beach. We just drop by to say hello every summer. Before his health went down, he’d have dinner parties with all these celebrities, and they’d always invite us to them. He and I, we were pretty close friends. Warren: I like them very, very much. Booth: They’re great. Warren: I’m really intrigued with this florist business, the idea. I noticed in one of those pictures that all the girls were wearing corsages. Tell me about these fancy social events. Did they happen very often? Warren: We had the fall dances. The dances usually would be a two-day affair, Friday evening and Saturday evening in Doremus Gymnasium, with a big-name orchestra. Fall. Then Fancy Dress Ball would always come at the end of the first semester, and then spring dances, then finals, in connection with graduation, finals. They would always have these big bands there. As you saw in those pictures, everybody was beautifully dressed. Boys were always in tuxedos or tails. I still have—down in our basement there we have these old clothes stored, I’ve still got my tails down there. I haven’t worn them in years. You’d always send your girl a corsage for the dance. The girls would stay in the hotels, or some professors would take in the girls. There were some homes in Lexington that would take the girls in for the weekend, who had come as our guests for the dances. There were some beautiful, beautiful girls there in those days. The dances were just great. At Fancy Dress, you always had this figure. We’d rehearse the figure and all, my senior year. It was a replica. It was supposed to replicate the first Kentucky Derby Ball. Jack Watson from Richmond was the president of it that year, and I think he represented the governor of Kentucky. I was Colonel somebody, I don’t know who. It 16 was my horse that won the Derby. I think the first Kentucky Derby was in something like 1875. I can’t remember. They were beautiful dances. You saw some of those pictures. They really were. But the orchestras were always so enthusiastic. I remember Kay Kyser especially. By the way, he was from North Carolina. I think he went to the University of North Carolina. He had the well-known College of Musical Knowledge’s nationwide network radio broadcast. And Benny Goodman. I remember Paul Whiteman was there once. After the dance, we went to the Southern Inn. After the dances, you’d go out and have your breakfast. We were sitting in the Southern Inn, and Paul Whiteman came in. Charley Eaton, who was a national champion or Southern champion wrestler, grabbed Paul Whiteman by the shirt as he came in and he said, “Look here. You never played The Washington and Lee Swing. You didn’t play The Washington and Lee Swing.” And Paul Whiteman said something like, “Well, what is The Washington and Lee Swing?” And Eaton, I think, punched him. I’ve forgotten exactly, but I have some mental image of what happened there. But we had the big ones. I remember when Benny Goodman was there at the peak of his career, staying in that awful old Mayflower Hotel out on South Main Street. It’s not a hotel now, is it? Warren: No, it’s a nursing home. Booth: Benny Goodman stayed right there. I was secretary of the Dance Committee, secretary-treasurer or something, and booked the bands, which was easy. I would just call the Music Corporation of America in New York, and they would book them for you. It was no hassle, no trouble at all. It didn’t take any time. But that’s how I happened to meet Goodman, because of my position on the dance board. I think I was secretary. Warren: Yes, you were. I’ve got it down. 17 Booth: Goodman said that he had heard of Natural Bridge, so I picked him up at the Mayflower Hotel and drove him out to Natural Bridge. He was a very gracious gentleman. I went to New York to work the following summer. He had me over. And our apartment, a little apartment my sister and I rented, was only about three blocks from Benny Goodman, and he had us over there for a rehearsal. The Budapest Quartet were rehearsing in Goodman’s living room, rehearsing for a concert they were going to give. But I never saw him again. We were not close buddies. Warren: Let me ask you a question. Did he play The Swing? Booth: Oh, Lord, yes. All the bands would that would come in there. Warren: Tell me about that. Booth: Well, I mean they were always—no, I mean, The Washington and Lee Swing was probably the most prominent, widest known college song in the nation, along with maybe the Yale "Boola" song and the Navy’s "Anchors Aweigh." But it was—you know, it was written by a Washington and Lee guy. Was his name Robbins, or what was it? Warren: I can’t say it off the top of my head. Booth: Anyway, it was written by a W&L man, and all the bands would always play it. It’s a good dance tune with the right rhythm. Put it in the right rhythm and you can dance by it. By the way, I think Robbins finally got it copyrighted, because other colleges were stealing it. I know they were taking it and using it and adapting their own lyrics to the melody, making up their own lyrics. I think Cornell was one of them, I’m not sure. But, anyway, he got a copyright on it, I believe. But still, I know there are still high schools that use it. It’s a great song, isn’t it? 18 Warren: It sure is. I was walking down the hall the other day, and I realized I was whistling it. I said, "Oh, Frank, I’ve gone off the deep end. I’m whistling The Swing." [Laughter] Booth: [Singing] I don’t know, something like that, "roll old Sweet Briar on the side." Roll old Sweet Briar on the side." My memory bank just broke. Can you imagine that I’m having trouble remembering the lyrics to the Washington and Lee Swing? Warren: Everybody knows them in their hearts. I need to turn the tape over.