Centennial celebration planned Saturday for historic Duncan Park

August 25, 2015
A cyclist rode up North Limestone Street past an entrance to Duncan Park at the corner of Fifth Street. Many young people are moving into neighborhoods around the park and fixing up long-neglected old houses. Photo by Tom Eblen | teblen@herald-leader.com

A cyclist rode up North Limestone Street past an entrance to Duncan Park at the corner of Fifth Street. The park originally was a wealthy merchant’s estate. Photos by Tom Eblen


There’s a party Saturday to celebrate the centennial of Duncan Park, a piece of land that has reflected the changing character of Lexington for more than twice that long.

Four nearby neighborhood associations are sponsoring the public celebration from 3 to 7 p.m. at the five-acre park at North Limestone and East Fifth Street. There will be live music, food trucks, family activities and exhibits by community organizations.

“We just want people to come out and enjoy the park,” said James Brown, the new First District member of the Urban County Council.

Duncan Park has a fascinating history.

It was part of 20 acres that William Morton acquired in the early 1790s. He built one of Lexington’s first mansions there in 1810, and that mansion dominates the park. The federal-style house has oversized proportions to make it look good from a distance.

The Englishman, who came here in 1787 and opened a store, became a wealthy merchant and financier. Because of his aristocratic bearing, everyone called him “Lord” Morton, but probably not to his face.

Morton gave away a lot of his money, creating Lexington’s first public school. He also was a benefactor of what is now Eastern State Hospital and Christ Church Episcopal.

Two years after Morton died in 1836, his property was bought by Cassius Marcellus Clay, the fiery emancipationist who published an anti-slavery newspaper, The True American, and was Lincoln’s ambassador to Russia during the Civil War.

Clay sold the place in 1850 to his wife’s uncle, Dr. Lloyd Warfield, who subdivided three-fourths of it to create the neighborhoods now north and east of the park.

The house and five acres were bought in 1873 by Henry T. Duncan, editor of the Lexington Daily Press and the city’s mayor. Because of how well he and his wife maintained the grounds, it was known as “Duncan Park” long before their daughter, Lucy Duncan Draper, sold it to the city as a park in 1913.

A month before the park officially opened, it was the site of a May 1915 rally by women seeking the right to vote. That was fitting: Clay’s daughter, Laura, was a national leader in the women’s suffrage movement.

Duncan Park was a happening place for more than four decades, with a baseball field, tennis courts, ping-pong tables and playgrounds.

The Lexington Leader reported in 1925 that three young girls were forming a girls’ club at Duncan Park. One of them was Elizabeth Hardwick, 8, who lived on nearby Rand Avenue. She later moved to New York and became a famous literary critic, novelist and founder of The New York Review of Books.

City officials have always struggled over what to do with the Morton house. Early plans called for it to become a museum or a girls school. More recent proposals have included a black history museum and an official home for Lexington’s mayor.

Instead, the mansion has always housed social service agencies. In 1914, it became a “milk depot” for Baby Milk Supply, a new charity. Now called Baby Health Service, the organization cares for uninsured children at a clinic beside St. Joseph Hospital.

The Morton house was a Junior League “day nursery” in the 1930s and then was the city children’s home until better accommodations were built on Cisco Road in 1950. In recent years, it has housed The Nest Center for Women and Children.

Until the 1950s, Duncan Park was only for white people. The city built Douglass Park on Georgetown Street for black residents in 1916. By the time city parks were legally integrated, a different kind of segregation was taking place.

Lexington’s suburban sprawl contributed to white flight from the neighborhood. In August 1972, 200 black people marched from Duncan Park to city hall to protest the closing of inner-city schools and the busing of black children to the suburbs.

As owner-occupied homes surrounding Duncan Park became poorly maintained rentals, crime soared. Things have slowly gotten better, especially since last year’s fatal shooting of Antonio Franklin in the park prompted his mother, Anita Franklin, to organize well-attended monthly “peace walks.”

Many people attribute the drop in crime to a renaissance in the North Limestone area. Many old houses are being restored and reconverted from low-income rentals to owner-occupied homes.

The Martin Luther King Neighborhood Association has focused on improving Duncan Park since 2001. Discussions are now under way about adding more features to the playground and basketball courts.

Travis Robinson, the association’s president, said the park is becoming safer thanks to better policing and more use by area residents. Regular activities include potluck suppers and story-telling programs for kids.

“It’s a community asset that has been underutilized,” said Vice Mayor Steve Kay, who lives nearby. “More people are coming to live in the neighborhood, and that is making a difference.”

A cyclist rode up North Limestone Street past the old columned entrance to the 1810 Morton House in Duncan Park. Many young people are moving into neighborhoods around the park and fixing up long-neglected old houses. Photo by Tom Eblen | teblen@herald-leader.com

A cyclist rode up North Limestone Street past the old entrance to the 1810 Morton House in Duncan Park. Many people are moving into nearby neighborhoods and fixing up long-neglected houses.

The Morton House, built in 1810 and once owned by emancipationist Cassius Clay, sits in the middle of Duncan Park. Since the city bought the property in 1913, it has housed social service agencies. Photo by Tom Eblen | teblen@herald-leader.com

The Morton House, built in 1810 and once owned by emancipationist Cassius Clay, sits in the middle of Duncan Park. Since the city bought the property in 1913, it has housed social service agencies.

Now that we’re talking about statues, who else should we honor?

July 14, 2015
Mayor Jim Gray has asked the city's Arts Review Board to study, take comments and make recommendations about this 1911 statue of Confederate Gen. John Hunt Morgan and an 1887 statue of John C. Breckinridge outside the old Fayette County Courthouse. Photo by Tom Eblen

Mayor Jim Gray has asked the city’s Arts Review Board to study, take comments and make recommendations about this 1911 statue of Confederate Gen. John Hunt Morgan and an 1887 statue of John C. Breckinridge outside the old Fayette County Courthouse. Photo by Tom Eblen


One consensus that seemed to emerge from last week’s public forum on local Confederate statues and symbols of slavery was that Lexington’s history should be presented in a more accurate and complete way.

Mayor Jim Gray opened the forum organized by the Carnegie Center for Literacy and Learning by announcing he had asked the city’s Arts Review Board to study, gather comments and make recommendations about the placement and presentation of two controversial statues and an historical marker about slavery outside the old Fayette County Courthouse.

The statues are of Confederate Gens. John Hunt Morgan and John C. Breckinridge, also a former U.S. vice president, who lived in Lexington. The statues were erected in 1911 and 1887, respectively, at the behest of Confederate memorial groups with considerable funding from taxpayers. The slavery marker was erected in 2003 and paid for by Kappa Alpha Psi, a black fraternity.

Several people spoke against the statues at the forum, saying they should be moved or removed. But I thought the wisest comments came from panelist Yvonne Giles, who knows more about and has done more to promote black history in Lexington than perhaps anyone.

“Rather than spending money moving statues, create new ones that tell the rest of the story,” Giles said. “African Americans were crucial to the development of Lexington.”

“We wouldn’t be talking about it if it weren’t for those monuments,” she added. “Public art creates conversations.”

Giles named a couple of black Lexingtonians worth memorializing, and I can think of several more. I also can think of several great women from Lexington history — and white men who did not fight for the Confederacy.

What other people from Lexington’s history do you think are worth honoring and remembering? Comment on this column online, or send me an email.

For the sake of this exercise, let’s keep the nominations to people who are no longer living. In fact, I like the state Historic Properties Advisory Commission’s rule that people honored with monuments should have been dead for at least 40 years so their place in history can be more accurately assessed.

Here are some names I would suggest:

William Wells Brown (1814-1884) the first black American to publish a novel, a travelogue, a song book and a play. He also wrote three volumes of black history, including the first about black military service in the Civil War. He then became a physician, and he did all of this after escaping slavery. Brown said he was born in Lexington, but new research shows he probably came from Montgomery County.

Lewis Hayden (1811-1889) was born into slavery in Lexington, escaped and settled in Boston, where he became a famous activist against slavery. After the Civil War, he also worked for black education and women’s suffrage. Like Brown, his dramatic life story would make a great movie.

Mary E. Britton (1855-1925) was Lexington’s first and, for many years, only licensed black female doctor. Educated at Berea College, she also was a journalist and influential civil rights and women’s rights activist.

Madeline McDowell Breckinridge (1872-1920) was a social reformer from Lexington whose many causes included women’s suffrage, juvenile justice reform, tuberculosis treatment, job training, parks and recreation.

Laura Clay (1849-1941) of Lexington was another nationally known advocate for women’s suffrage and equal rights. At the 1920 Democratic National Convention, she became the first women nominated for president by a major political party.

Thomas Hunt Morgan (1866-1945) was the first Kentuckian to win a Nobel Prize, in 1933 for medicine. More than that, he was one of the most influential scientists of the 20th century because of his research into genetics and embryology and his approach to scientific experimentation. And, by the way, he was the Confederate general’s nephew.

I can think of several others, but that’s a good start. Send me your ideas. If I get enough good ones, I’ll write about them.

Statues of bronze and stone are not the only ways to memorialize notable people with public art. One of my favorite additions to the downtown skyline is Brazilian artist Eduardo Kobra’s colorful 2013 mural of Abraham Lincoln on the back wall of the Kentucky Theatre.

Kentuckians of all genders and races have made important contributions, not only to this city and state but to civilization. It is important to remember them not just because of what they did, but for the examples they provide for what is possible.

Renovating old market helps new owner discover her family history

July 12, 2015
Workers renovated the circa 1894 addition to the Buchignani Meat Market. The builder's great-granddaughter, Mary Ginocchio, recently bought the building across from her Mulberry & Lime shop and is having it renovated for commercial space.  Photos by Tom Eblen

Workers renovated the circa 1894 addition to the Buchignani Meat Market. The builder’s great-granddaughter, Mary Ginocchio, recently bought the building across from her Mulberry & Lime shop and is having it renovated for commercial space. Photos by Tom Eblen


Mary Ginocchio recently bought an old commercial building across North Limestone from her house and home furnishings boutique. After a major renovation, she hopes to lease the first floor to restaurants and rent out the two apartments above.

But this project is much more than a real estate investment. It is restoring a key piece of her family’s history.

Ginocchio bought the building for $300,000 in May from Charles Whittington, whose family had owned it since 1986. Whittington operated a used bookstore there for years and lived above the shop.

Ginocchio hopes to spend no more than that on the renovation, which is being led by contractors Dudley Burke and Mica Puscas; Puscas is also finding new homes for tens of thousands of books that were left behind.

“There’s work to be done everywhere,” she said. “But they’ve gotten so much done in just a month. I’m conservative with my money, but I’m getting over it quick.”

Martin Ginocchio and his daughter, Mary, stand in the doorway of what was originally the Buchagnani Meat Market.

Martin Ginocchio and his daughter, Mary, stand in the doorway of what was the Buchagnani Meat Market.

Ginocchio will have an open house from 1 to 4 p.m. July 26 to show off the renovation in progress. The contractors are trying to save as much historic fabric as possible — from pine floors and woodwork to the tin ceiling on the main floor.

The building dates to 1887, when the first section was constructed for Ginocchio’s great- grandfather, Hannibal Buchignani. His meat market had outgrown its previous location on South Broadway. (A large 1880s photo of that shop hangs in Spalding’s Bakery on Winchester Road.)

Buchignani came to the United States from Italy as a child. When he grew up, he decided to move to California. On his way there, he stopped to see a friend in Lexington who persuaded him that this would be a good place to start a business and raise a family.

Buchignani’s grocery prospered. In 1894, he built an addition, part of which housed a bicycle shop. He was one of Lexington’s first bicycle enthusiasts, and Ginocchio said he asked several manufacturers to make a triple bicycle for his sons, Hugo, Leo and John.

“They wouldn’t do it, so he built it himself,” she said. “We still have the frame in the basement.”

Buchignani never lost his childhood desire to live in California. So, in 1905, the family sold its furniture (but kept its Lexington real estate) and moved to San Francisco. They arrived six months before the famous 1906 earthquake devastated the city and left them living in a tent in a park.

According to family lore, one of Buchignani’s sons asked: “Papa, what are we going to do?”

“We’re going to take the first train back to Lexington,” he replied.

Three years after reopening his market, Buchignani bought the mansion across the street when it went up for auction. It was built about 1818 as the home of Matthew Kennedy, Kentucky’s first professional architect.

Ginocchio now lives in the back of the Matthew Kennedy House. She uses the front rooms for her Mulberry & Lime home furnishings shop. The mansion also houses the office of interior designer Anna Marie Lewis, who is helping with the renovation.

Next door is a modest house built in 1813 by Kennedy and his business partner, John Brand. It was moved down Constitution Street years ago to prevent its demolition, and it is now the home of her father, retired architect Martin Ginocchio.

When he was young, his father, Louis Ginocchio, ran The Tavern on South Limestone, where Two Keys Tavern is now. His grandfather died 16 years before he was born in 1931, but Ginocchio recalls many visits to the meat market run by his uncles, John and Hugo, a short trolley ride up Limestone.

“I remember this structure from way back, the smells and everything,” he said. “All the produce was in large, tall baskets. There were cookies in big cans with glass tops. There was a refrigerated room where my uncles would hang whole sides of beef to age.”

At Christmas, the uncles had special Italian candy to give him when he visited.

The Buchignanis’ market shared its building with other businesses over the years, including an ice cream shop, a confectioner, a shoemaker and an electrician. The meat market closed in the 1960s, and the building was sold out of the family.

Buying and renovating the meat market has prompted the Ginocchios to look for old photographs and talk more about their family history, memories and relics. A glass-topped cookie can and tall basket have been around the house forever, but Mary Ginocchio didn’t realize where they came from.

“I didn’t think I would be that attached to the building,” she said. “But I am now.”

If you go

Buchignani Meat Market sneak preview

What: See renovation in progress

When: 1-4 p.m. Sunday, July 26

Where: 215-219 N. Limestone

Cost: Free, but donations accepted for the Blue Grass Trust for Historic Preservation

More information: (859) 231-0800 or Mulberryandlime.com

A worker in the 1894 addition to the Buchignani Meat Market, which once housed a bicycle shop. Mary Ginocchio, whose great grandfather Hannibal Buchignani built the building, recently bought it and is having it restored for use as commercial space.  Photo by Tom Eblen | teblen@herald-leader.com

A worker in the 1894 addition to the Buchignani Meat Market, which once housed a bicycle shop.

Martin Ginocchio and his daughter, Mary Ginocchio, looked through the remains of a bookstore that operated in the old Buchagnani Meat Market until about 1996. The building's downstairs has been unused since then. Their ancestor, Hannibal Buchignani, built the commercial building about 1887, adding an addition about 1894. Photo by Tom Eblen | teblen@herald-leader.com

Martin Ginocchio and his daughter, Mary Ginocchio, looked through the remains of a bookstore that operated in the old Buchagnani Meat Market.

Martin Ginocchio and his daughter, Mary Ginocchio, looked through the remains of a bookstore that operated in the old Buchagnani Meat Market until about 1996. The building's downstairs has been unused since then. Their ancestor, Hannibal Buchignani, built the commercial building about 1887, adding an addition about 1894. Photo by Tom Eblen | teblen@herald-leader.com

Martin Ginocchio and his daughter, Mary Ginocchio, looked through the remains of a bookstore that operated in the old Buchagnani Meat Market.

Apartments above the Buchignani Meat Market are being remodeled into two rental units, which include natural light from two skylights in the roof.  Photo by Tom Eblen | teblen@herald-leader.com

Apartments above the Buchignani Meat Market are being remodeled into two rental units, which include natural light from two skylights in the roof.

Apartments above the Buchignani Meat Market are being remodeled into two rental units, which include natural light from two skylights in the roof.  Photo by Tom Eblen | teblen@herald-leader.com

Apartments above the Buchignani Meat Market are being remodeled into two rental units.

The two apartments over the old Buchignani Meat Market on North Limestone Street overlook owner Mary Ginocchio's Mulberry & Lime shop. It is housed in the circa 1818 mansion where Kentucky's first professional architect, Matthew Kennedy, lived. Ginocchio's great-grandfather, meat market owner Hannibal Buchignani, bought the house at auction in 1909 and it has been in the family ever since.  Photo by Tom Eblen | teblen@herald-leader.com

The two apartments over the old Buchignani Meat Market on North Limestone Street overlook owner Mary Ginocchio’s Mulberry & Lime shop. It is housed in the circa 1818 mansion where Kentucky’s first professional architect, Matthew Kennedy, lived. Ginocchio’s great-grandfather, meat market owner Hannibal Buchignani, bought the house at auction in 1909 and it has been in the family ever since.

Hannibal Buchignani built the right side of this commercial building on North Limestone Street for his meat market about 1887 and added the left side about 1894. The street-level space has gone unused since a bookstore there closed in 1996. Buchignani's great-granddaughter, Mary Ginocchio, recently bought the building and is renovating it for commercial space.  Photo by Tom Eblen | teblen@herald-leader.com

Hannibal Buchignani built the right side of this commercial building on North Limestone Street for his meat market about 1887 and added the left side about 1894.

The Buchignani Meat Market is shown in this 1921 photo by Lexington real estate agent Asa Chinn, whose documented the city's downtown streetscape that year.  Photo provided

The Buchignani Meat Market is shown in this 1921 photo by Lexington real estate agent Asa Chinn, whose documented the city’s downtown streetscape that year. Photo provided

It won’t be cheap, but Lexington must renovate old courthouse

March 24, 2015

141231Downtown0070The old Fayette County Courthouse. Photo by Tom Eblen


Remember the old TV commercials for Fram oil filters? An actor dressed as an auto mechanic would explain how a costly repair could have been prevented with regular oil changes.

His punch line: “You can pay me now, or you can pay me later.”

Those ads came to mind as I read the report about all that is wrong with the old Fayette County Courthouse and what must be done to fix it. The building is well into “pay me later” status, and any further procrastination will make things worse.

Lexington’s EOP Architects and Preservation Design Partnership of Philadelphia spent six months cataloging decades of serious abuse and neglect of an iconic building that has defined the center of Lexington for more than a century.

This Richardsonian Romanesque temple of limestone, completed in 1900, symbolized the idea that public buildings should be beautiful as well as functional. It had a 105-foot-tall rotunda with a bronze-plated staircase paved in white marble. The dome was illuminated by then-new electric lights, and the cupola was crowned with a large racehorse weathervane.

But by 1930, growing Fayette County government needed more office space. Rather than branch out to annexes, more and more was crammed into the courthouse. The ultimate architectural insult came in 1960-61, when the rotunda was filled in and most of the elegant interior gutted to add elevators and more office space.

Building updates were ill-conceived. Little was spent on maintenance. The weathervane, damaged by a storm, was taken down in 1981.

The courts moved out in 2000 to new buildings two blocks away. The old courthouse was handed off to the Lexington History Museum and left to leak and crumble. Concerns about lead paint contamination prompted its closure in 2012.

The old courthouse is just one example of how Lexington squandered a rich architectural inheritance. For decades, “out with the old, in with the new” was city leaders’ motto. Much of the new was poorly designed and cheaply built.

There were many short-sighted demolitions, such as Union Station and the Post Office on Main Street, plus “modernizations” that now look ridiculous. New schools and office buildings were often cheap imitations of contemporary architecture. The city allowed many handsome buildings to be razed for parking lots.

There also was a lot of “demolition by neglect”, a trend that sadly continues at such places as the 1870 Odd Fellow’s Temple that most recently housed Bellini’s restaurant. It’s no wonder, since the old courthouse such a visible example.

Mayor Jim Gray deserves credit for trying to change things. The Downtown Development Authority and its consultants have put together an excellent, no-nonsense plan for a public-private partnership to renovate the old courthouse as a visitors’ center, public events venue and commercial space.

The cost of fixing and upgrading the building for new uses won’t be cheap: about $38 million, although about $11 million could come from historic preservation tax credits.

But what other choice do we have? The old courthouse is a black hole in an increasingly vibrant downtown that will soon include a 21C Museum Hotel in the restored First National building.

The consultants’ report says the old courthouse is basically sound structurally, but the damage so severe that a purely commercial restoration isn’t feasible.

That means city leaders must finally face up to their responsibility, just as they had to do when the U.S. Environmental Protection Agency forced the city to fix long-inadequate sewer systems that were polluting neighborhoods and streams.

Fortunately, many Urban County Council members have expressed support for restoring the old courthouse. They recognize it as an investment in Lexington’s future. But you can bet some will vote “no” to try to score political points, just as three members did on the necessary sewer rate increase recently.

After all, what’s the alternative? Tear down the old courthouse? Imagine the bad publicity that would bring Lexington, especially after city officials in 2008 allowed the Webb Companies to destroy an entire block nearby to create a storage pit for idle construction cranes.

Demolition of the old courthouse would tell tourists that the “city of horses and history” doesn’t really care about its history. And it would tell potential residents and economic development prospects that Lexington is too cheap and short-sighted to care for its assets or invest in its future.

I think most Lexington leaders are smart enough to bite the bullet and do the right thing here. And if they are really smart, they also will make other investments to avoid big taxpayer liabilities in the future. As the old courthouse and EPA consent degree have painfully demonstrated, “pay me later” is rarely a wise choice.

The fascinating story of Henry Clay’s ‘mad artist’ younger brother

December 27, 2014

Gigi LacerPorter Clay is thought to have made this games table in his Lexington shop in the early 1800s.  Henry Clay’s younger brother made excellent furniture, and charged high prices for it. Photo by Bill Roughen from the book, Collecting Kentucky 1790-1860.


Henry Clay has been famous for two centuries, but almost nobody remembers his younger brother, Porter, whom the statesman once described as “the greatest man I ever knew.”

Porter Clay, born two years after Henry in 1779, was a Baptist preacher and lawyer who served as Kentucky’s state auditor and Woodford County attorney. He also was a mercurial man who lacked the people skills that made his brother the “great compromiser” — and he paid dearly for it.

But his greatest achievement came in his first career, as one of early Kentucky’s best cabinetmakers. Several pieces of furniture he is thought to have made still survive, and they are attracting new attention from scholars and collectors.

The Museum of Early Southern Decorative Arts in Winston-Salem, N.C., has just published a biographical essay about Porter Clay in its online journal (Mesdajournal.org). It includes new research by the author, James Birchfield of Lexington, retired curator of rare books at the University of Kentucky Library’s Special Collections.

Birchfield will give a free lecture about him at the Blue Grass Trust for Historic Preservation’s annual Antiques & Garden Show March 6-8 at the Kentucky Horse Park’s Alltech Arena.

And in 2016, the MESDA Journal will publish a companion article about his furniture by Mack Cox, a Madison County geologist who has become a leading scholar and collector of early Kentucky decorative arts.

PorterClay“I think he was very bright, a mad-artist kind of a guy,” Birchfield said of Porter Clay. “He was a superior craftsman, but he was always breaking up with everybody.”

Like his older brothers Henry and John, Porter was born in Hanover County, Va., to the Rev. John Clay, a Baptist minister jailed for preaching contrary to the colonial Church of England, and his wife, Elizabeth. He died in 1781, and Elizabeth remarried Henry Watkins. They moved to Kentucky in 1791 and ran a tavern in Versailles.

Henry stayed in Virginia to study law before moving to Kentucky in 1797. By that time, Porter was apprenticed to Lexington cabinetmaker Thomas Whitley. But a year before his seven-year indenture was finished, he ran away to New York, where he worked as a journeyman amid America’s best furniture craftsmen, who included Duncan Phyfe.

Porter Clay returned to Lexington a year later — his brother having negotiated a financial settlement with Whitley — and set up shop making furniture. Henry was one of his brother’s clients, and records show that not only was he charging prices higher than Phyfe was in New York, but he apparently didn’t give a family discount.

Porter Clay, like most Kentucky cabinetmakers then, did not sign his work, so identification of pieces has been based on style, provenance and available records. Henry loved to drink and gamble, and the furniture he ordered from his brother in 1803 included a pair of games tables, now thought to be in a private collection.

Porter’s first shop was in a house that still stands at the corner of Mill and Church streets. Three years later, in 1806, he built a new house and shop behind a bank on Main Street, beside what will soon become the 21C Museum Hotel.

In 1804, Porter married Sophia Grosh, a ward of the Hart family, Henry’s in-laws. Her sister married John Wesley Hunt, Kentucky’s first millionaire who built what we now know as the Hunt-Morgan House museum.

With his craftsmanship and social connections, Porter should have been a successful businessman. He took on a partner, Robert Wilson, in 1807. But a year later, they split and Porter left cabinetmaking to become an entrepreneur.

He partnered with William Smith in 1808 in an ironworks and boat-building business. But they split up within three years, and Porter moved to Richmond, Va., to follow his brother’s path and study law. He returned two years later and practiced law in Nicholasville, Versailles and Lexington and served as Woodford County Attorney. Then Porter Clay got religion.

At the time of his conversion, he later wrote, “I determined to throw myself under the protection of my Heavenly Father and wait His good providence rather than make my thousands in an unholy calling.”

Porter Clay apparently reconciled the conflict, because in 1820 the governor (perhaps through his brother’s influence) appointed him state auditor at the then-handsome salary of $3,000.

But being both a state official and preacher brought him nothing but grief. When he audited a legislator who belonged to his church, they became embroiled in a bitter dispute. Porter Clay was excommunicated from his church in 1827. His people skills, Birchfield writes, were apparently “less polished than his sideboards and tea tables.”

In 1829, tragedy struck: death claimed Porter Clay’s wife, daughter, mother, step-father and eldest brother, John. He remarried six months after his wife’s death, but his new wife came with debts and a son who didn’t like him. Porter resigned as state auditor in 1834, and the family moved to Illinois.

Within five years, Birchfield writes, Porter Clay had become an outcast in his own home and he left for Missouri to stay with a relative. His brother then got him a job with the American Colonization Society, which urged masters to free their slaves and send them back to Africa, to a colony in Liberia.

By the 1840s, Porter was an itinerate Baptist preacher in Illinois, Missouri and Arkansas. He refused further help from his brother. Stricken by fever in Camden, Ark., he died Feb. 16, 1850 at age 71. He was buried in a grave unmarked for 60 years.

Porter “has gone, poor fellow,” Henry wrote his wife, Lucretia, when he heard the news. “He had but little to attach him to this life.”

The story behind Gratz Park’s bronze kids, soon headed for repairs

November 21, 2014

141111GPFountain0032Author James Lane Allen’s will left the city $6,000 to build a fountain dedicated to Lexington’s youth. Installed in 1933, it will get a much-needed makeover this winter.  Photos by Tom Eblen


Like horses, stone fences and antebellum homes, the bronze boy and girl in Gratz Park have become frequently photographed symbols of Lexington.

But early this week or next, depending on the weather, a crane will carefully remove the life-size statues from their perch on the fountain across Third Street from Transylvania University.

The kids will spend the winter at Lexington’s Prometheus Foundry for repairs and refinishing. If all goes well, they will return to the park in May after the fountain’s crumbling concrete and Depression-era plumbing are replaced and the stone and brick surrounds are restored.

The fountain “is just falling apart with age,” said Michelle Kosieniak, superintendent of planning and design for the city’s Division of Parks and Recreation. “We figured that since we were moving the statues anyway, we should take a look at restoring them, too, and hopefully get them ready to be enjoyed for another half-century.”

There is an interesting story behind these playful children and their fountain that says a lot about Lexington’s history of tension between progressive thought and conservative religion. But it has nothing to do with the statues’ lack of clothing.

141111GPFountain0024James Lane Allen was born near Lexington in 1849 and graduated with honors from Transylvania University in 1872. After a few years of teaching, he pursued a writing career and moved to New York City.

Allen became one of America’s most popular novelists and short-story writers in the 1890s. His tales, written in a flowery style popular in the late Victorian era, were often set in Kentucky and featured characters taken from early Bluegrass history.

One of his most famous tales, King Solomon of Kentucky, told the true story of how William “King” Solomon, an alcoholic vagrant, became a hero during Lexington’s 1833 cholera epidemic by staying to bury the dead while almost everyone else fled.

Novels such as A Kentucky Cardinal and The Choir Invisible became national best-sellers. But Allen’s 1900 novel The Reign of Law created controversy in Lexington because its protagonist accepted Darwin’s theory of evolution instead of a literal interpretation of the Bible’s creation story.

The Rev. John McGarvey, president of what is now Lexington Theological Seminary, castigated Allen in a widely publicized sermon. The Lexington Herald heaped on, opining that “dirt and dust” were “ruining the author’s mind.”

The criticism stung Allen, who wrote that Kentucky “never did appreciate its best people.” He never returned to Lexington — not even when the Lexington Public Library dedicated a portrait of him in 1916.

“My returning now would seem like vainly attempting to pass over into a vanished land,” Allen wrote his lifelong friend, M.A. Cassidy, the superintendent of Lexington’s public schools.

But Cassidy kept the author connected to his hometown. During the last decade of Allen’s life, Lexington schools celebrated his birthday each Dec. 21 and children would write notes and telegrams of good wishes.

Allen was touched, and he always sent thank-you letters. He ended a 1922 interview at his New York home with a journalism student from Lexington by saying, “Give my love to the Kentucky children.”

When Allen died in 1925, his will left his entire estate to Lexington to build a fountain dedicated to the city’s children. The estate was originally thought to be worth $12,000 — a lot of money in those days. Officials planned to build a swimming pool with a fountain in the middle.

But by the time the city actually got the money, Allen’s estate had shrunk by half because of the stock market crash and waning royalties as his books lost popularity. Lexington’s children had to settle for a fountain and statues.

The statues were sculpted by Joseph Pollia, an Italian-born artist in New York who had a distinguished career creating war memorials.

His sculpture depicts a boy showing his homemade boat to the girl, who expresses delight. The statues symbolize “the spirit of youth, with its tender dreams and delicate and beautiful aspirations, which found so much appreciation in the poetical soul of the author,” the Herald wrote when the fountain was dedicated Oct. 15, 1933.

But time and vandalism have aged those kids. The girl was pushed off her granite pedestal in 1969 and again in 1983, cracking her leg. Although the cracks were repaired, there is concern the statues may have corrosion inside.

“It has been likened to a muffler,” said John Hackworth, president of the Gratz Park Neighborhood Association. “It looks all right from the outside, but if you kick it, it might just disintegrate.”

Restoring the statues will cost $57,000 because their high lead content will require complicated safety procedures. The neighborhood association has given $30,000. Councilman Chris Ford recommended $150,000 in city funds for the rest of the work and restoration of the fountain with a new pump system.

The goal is to have everything finished by Gratz Park’s annual Mayfest celebration on Mother’s Day weekend.

“It’s a symbol of Lexington,” Hackworth said of the fountain, “It’s worth being preserved.”

141111GPFountain0008The fountain stands near Third Street across from Transylvania University’s Old Morrison Hall.

Woodland Triangle street work recalls Lexington area’s history

August 19, 2014

140818Woodland-old1Pearson & Peters Architects now occupies the Woodland Triangle building that in 1911 housed R.L. Jones Grocery. Below, Jeff Pearson and Maureen Peters recreate the old scene, minus apron and horse and buggy. Modern photos by Tom Eblen.


140818Woodland-TE0014The just-completed redesign of that funky intersection at East High, Kentucky and East Maxwell streets has sparked recollections of the Woodland Triangle’s history.

Pearson & Peters Architects now occupies the wedge-shaped building in the intersection. But Maureen Peters recalled that in 2006 a woman walked in and showed her staff photos of the building nearly a century earlier, when it housed the R.L. Jones Grocery.

The building dates from 1909 or 1910. The 1911 city directory lists Jones’ grocery, although by the next year there was a different tenant. Except for the awnings, the building’s exterior looks about the same. Peters and her business partner, Jeff Pearson, have done a handsome, modern renovation of the interior.

The street project prompted Peter Bourne, a map-maker for city government, to make sure the work hadn’t removed a city “mile marker” from the 1870s. It had not. The limestone block still stands nearby in Woodland Park.

Bourne recounted on his Lexington Streetsweeper blog how officials decided in 1871 to mark the old city limits — a one-mile radius from the Court House — with a ring of stones, 500 feet apart. If all were installed, there should have been about 66 of them. Bourne can only find the one at Woodland Park and another along West Main Street between Lexington and Calvary cemeteries. Does anyone know of others still in place?

140818Woodland-TE0021On East High Street, just inside Woodland Park, is one of two known remaining “mile markers” erected by Lexington in the early 1870s to mark the city limits Ñ a circle one mile from the Court House.

140818Woodland-old2The interior of the Woodland Triangle building when it was R.L. Jones Grocery, about 1911 Below, architects Maureen Peters and Jeff Pearson in the same room. 


Museum publishes new illustrated Lexington history book

November 13, 2013

Historic Lexington: Heart of the Bluegrass is a new illustrated history book published by the Lexington History Museum.

The book includes a 64-page history narrative written by Lexington lawyer Foster Ockerman Jr., followed by articles about 20 local companies and institutions bookcoverwhose sponsorship paid for the publication. All proceeds from the book, which sells for $50, will benefit the museum.

“What I wanted to write was a popular history,” Ockerman said of the one-chapter, chronological overview illustrated with historic and modern images. About 100 books were sold by pre-order, and 400 more are available.

Ockerman will be signing the book at 7 p.m. Wednesday at Central Library, 140 E. Main St., and at 2 p.m. Sunday at the Morris Book Shop, 882 E. High St.

The Lexington History Museum has been reinventing itself since its home, the old Fayette County Courthouse, was closed in July 2012 because of lead paint hazards. The organization has opened several small “pocket museums” around downtown and plans more there and in Chevy Chase. Also, the museum is rebuilding its website to be more of a local history database.  

Lexington History Museum reopens with series of ‘pocket’ museums

June 29, 2013

Since the city shut down the old Fayette County Courthouse that housed the Lexington History Museum last July because of concerns about lead paint exposure, a lot of people figured the museum had become, well, history.

But the museum’s board of directors has spent the past few months rethinking their mission and strategy, which they will formally announce at a Monday morning news conference with Mayor Jim Gray.

“Our first reaction was to run around town looking for new exhibit space, but we found there were few available spaces with big rooms and tall ceilings,” said attorney Foster Ockerman Jr., a board member. “So we kind of sat back and said, what now?”

The museum still hopes to have a place when the 115-year-old downtown courthouse is eventually restored to its original beauty. But, at least in the meantime, the museum plans to spread its collection around town in a number of small “pocket museums” beginning this week.

“It’s a matter of completely reinventing what the museum is to deal with the circumstances,” Ockerman said.

PrintThe first five pocket museums to open will be in common spaces of the Central Bank Building, 300 W. Vine Street; Victorian Square, 401 W. Main Street; Bluegrass Corporate Center, 333 W. Vine Street; Central Library, 140 E. Main Street; and the Lexington-Fayette Urban County Government Building, 200 E. Main Street. Displays also will be put in large windows on Central Parking property, 168 N. Upper Street.

More locations are being sought, and exhibits will be changed out every few months.

Also, canvases will be put up later this summer between pillars near the tops of the Fifth Third Pavilion at Cheapside with old photographs showing how that streetscape looked a century ago.

Museum director Jamie Millard has left and been succeeded by Debra Watkins, who has been with the museum for eight years.

“Our focus on education has not changed,” Watkins said, noting that outreach programs for schools and civic groups has continued during the past year. There also have been a few special exhibits, such as outside the Kentucky Room at Central Library and at the Lyric Theatre.

Later this year, the museum plans to reinvent its website (Lexingtonhistorymuseum.org) to be a local history wiki database. Anyone will be able to contribute, but information will be scrutinized before posting, Watkins said. The museum also hopes to digitize and make available old local photos and local home movies.

“We believe that a lot of the future of museums will be virtual, online,” Ockerman said.

The website also will interface with other Kentucky online history resources, such as those of the Lexington Public Library and the Kentucky Virtual Library.

“We are trying to integrate ourselves into the community,” Watkins said.

Another project is publication of a limited-edition, 350-copy coffee table book of old Lexington photos, along with text written by Ockerman. The museum will begin taking orders July 4 for the $50 book, Historic Lexington: Heart of the Bluegrass. The book is to be published in September. All profits from the book will benefit the non-profit museum.

I am sure the Lexington History Museum can’t wait to find a larger, permanent location, either in a restored old Fayette County Courthouse or another downtown building.

But this new approach makes a lot of sense — for the long-term as well as in this situation. Museums need more than the traditional, big-box approach to reach busy people in a modern, digital world.

For example, the most visible art museum in Lexington isn’t a museum at all; it is the University of Kentucky’s Chandler Medical Center. The hospital has a substantial, well-curated collection that is enjoyed every day by hundreds of people who might otherwise never go to the time, trouble and expense of visiting an art museum.

Lexington has a history as rich as any city this side of the East Coast. Spreading exhibits and information around downtown where people can easily encounter them in small doses may be the best way to ensure that that rich history is known and appreciated.

Lessons to learn from Lexington’s ‘Athens of the West’ period.

September 2, 2012

Mayor Jim Gray often talks about Lexington aspiring to be a “great American city.” But two centuries ago, that is exactly what it was. Many visitors hailed Lexington as the most vibrant and cultured city in what was then Western America.

The reality and myths surrounding Lexington’s so-called Athens of the West era are explored in a new book of essays published by the University Press of KentuckyBluegrass Renaissance: The History and Culture of Central Kentucky, 1792-1852.

The book is already in stores, but it will be formally launched at a signing party Sunday, Sept. 16, at 4 p.m. at the Hunt Morgan House, 253 Market Street. The event is free and open to the public.

Bluegrass Renaissance grew out of a series of lectures in 2007 organized by the University of Kentucky’s Gaines Center for the Humanities and others. Book editors James Klotter, Kentucky’s state historian, and Daniel Rowland, a UK history professor and former Gaines Center director, compiled essays by 15 historians and writers, including my older daughter, Mollie, and me.

The book begins with essays by Klotter and Stephen Aron that place Lexington in the national context of the time and discuss the city’s quick transition from frontier outpost to cultured metropolis.

Gerald Smith and the late Shearer Davis Bowman write about slavery, the “peculiar institution” that built the region’s wealth and would eventually play a big role in both economic and moral bankruptcy.

Randolph Hollingsworth writes about the role women played in early Kentucky, while Maryjean Wall looks at the origins of the signature horse industry. Mark Wetherington and Matthew Clarke profile several influential characters, while John Thelin explores the role higher education played in development and civic pride.

Nikos Pappas writes about musical culture, and Estill Curtis Pennington explains how outstanding portrait painters helped bring artistic culture to Central Kentucky and left what little visual evidence we have of that era’s key players.

Patrick Snadon writes about how Lexington’s leading citizens embraced early America’s most accomplished architect, Benjamin Latrobe. He was commissioned to design six Lexington buildings. Only one survives: Pope Villa, one of the most avant-garde pieces of architecture built during America’s Federalist period.

Mollie and I wrote about Horace Holley, a minister lured to Lexington from Boston, and his role in transforming Transylvania University into one of early America’s most highly regarded universities. Transylvania played a central role in Kentucky’s early education accomplishments and Lexington’s “Athens of the West” reputation.

The book’s dates are somewhat arbitrary: 1792 is the year Kentucky became a state, while 1852 is when Henry Clay, Lexington’s most famous citizen, died. In reality, Lexington’s heyday didn’t begin until after 1800, and its economic, if not cultural, fortunes started waning around 1815. By the end of the 1830s, Lexington had begun a long slide into mediocrity and provincialism.

Lexington’s early prosperity was the result of rich soil, slave labor and the city’s prime location as a hub for early Westward migration and trade. But the city began to struggle after the invention of steamboats allowed two-way commerce on the Mississippi and Ohio Rivers, which favored river cities such as Cincinnati and Louisville.

Slavery became a huge economic and social liability for Lexington beginning in the 1840s, limiting economic innovation and sparking increased social and racial strife. By clinging so long to slavery, a huge amount of Lexington’s economic capital was wiped out by the Civil War; racism and violence that followed stifled growth and new ideas.

Lexington had lost its economic edge and pioneer spirit. With a few notable exceptions, such as the creation and growth of the University of Kentucky, the city remained intellectually and economically stagnant for nearly a century.

In a short essay that ends the book, Gray makes the point that the past informs the present, and history provides valuable lessons for those who seek to shape the future.

Mollie and I certainly discovered that while researching and writing our chapter. The spectacular rise and fall of Holley at Transylvania in the 1820s reflected issues and attitudes that have shaped two centuries of Kentucky history.

Holley saw huge potential in Kentucky and its people, but was bedeviled by religious disputes, power struggles and petty politics. He finally gave up and left Kentucky, frustrated by an anti-intellectual governor who saw more political advantage in building roads than investing in education.

This book’s title is something of a misnomer: “renaissance” means “revival.” The Athens of the West era was actually Lexington’s “naissant” period. Achieving renaissance is our challenge, and we would be wise to learn lessons from the past.

Walk down Short Street is long on Lexington history

December 24, 2011

The street is named Short, but it is long on Lexington history.

I have been thinking about how this milelong street, which runs parallel to Main Street through downtown, ties together so many aspects of Lexington’s colorful and checkered past. I quickly came up with a dozen examples.

When I mentioned it to Jamie Millard, director of the Lexington History Museum, he quickly offered a dozen more. (The history museum, by the way, is on Short Street, in the old Fayette County Court House. It is worth a visit. More information: Lexingtonhistorymuseum.org.)

Maybe you will have a spare hour during the holidays, some nice weather and an urge to get out of the house for a walk. Clip this column and take a tour with me down Short Street.

Start on the west side, where Short Street begins at Newtown Pike. But first look behind you at the statue atop the 120-foot column rising out of Lexington Cemetery. It marks the grave of Lexington’s most famous citizen, early 19th-century statesman Henry Clay.

As you begin walking along Short through Lexington’s first suburb, you will see many homes Henry Clay would have seen. To your right, on the corner just across Old Georgetown Street, is the former home of Billy Klair, a colorful political boss in the early 1900s.

If you look beyond adjacent Klair Alley, you will see a gas station, the site of Belle Brezing’s childhood home. Brezing grew up to run a famous house of prostitution and is thought to have inspired the Belle Watling character in Gone With the Wind.

At Jefferson Street, you enter Lexington’s 1791 city limits. The next long block toward Broadway is filled with history. On your right, where First Baptist Church now stands, was the city’s original graveyard. It filled up quickly during the 1833 cholera epidemic.

William “King” Solomon, an alcoholic vagrant, became a local hero during that epidemic, risking his life to bury hundreds. After he died in 1854, the community saw to it that he was buried in Lexington Cemetery with an impressive monument. When you get home, search the Internet and read James Lane Allen’s fascinating 1891 story, King Solomon of Kentucky.

Farther along Short Street, you will pass two old homes on your left with a historical marker between them. They replaced two older ones where Mary Todd Lincoln was born in 1818 and where her grandmother, Elizabeth Parker, lived next door. (The future first lady moved to what is now the Mary Todd Lincoln House museum on Main Street when she was 14.)

When Abraham Lincoln visited his wife’s family in 1849, he got perhaps his most close-up view of the evil institution he would later take the lead in abolishing. There were slave jails across the street from the Todd and Parker homes and to their side facing Broadway. That side property is now occupied by three historic buildings: St. Paul Catholic Church, Sts. Peter & Paul School and Lexington Opera House.

The Short Street jail was Lexington’s most notorious because, from 1849 to 1856, it is where slave trader Lewis Robards kept what he called his “choice stock” — young mixed-race women he sold into sexual slavery.

In the block past Broadway, you will see the soon-to-close Metropol restaurant. It is housed in Lexington’s oldest surviving post office building, circa 1825. When you come to Mill Street, look to your right. The left side of Mill housed the shop of the great silversmith Asa Blanchard. Further on was the office of Cassius M. Clay’s 1840s abolitionist newspaper, The True American. It was an unpopular publication in slave-holding Lexington, so Clay guarded the door with a cannon.

The right side of Mill has the remaining half of a building that was a confectionery and ballroom operated by Mathurin Giron. The building now houses Silks Lounge. Giron’s upstairs ballroom played host to Lexington’s most prominent visitors in the early 1800s, including President James Monroe and the Marquis de Lafayette.

Cheapside was for many years the center of Lexington commerce, including outdoor slave auctions. Mary Todd Lincoln’s father had a store where Bluegrass Tavern is now. The old courthouse on the public square was Lexington’s fourth. Before that, in the 1780s, there was a log school, where the teacher was once attacked by a wildcat.

You might be tired of walking by now, but keep going for a few more blocks. You will come to the Deweese Street intersection, once the commercial hub of black Lexington. There you will find one of the city’s least-known historic buildings.

Now Central Christian Church’s child-care center, it was built in 1856 to house First African Baptist Church. It is an interesting piece of Italianate architecture, but what is most remarkable is that it was financed and built by slaves and free blacks.

The building was something of a monument to the church’s longtime minister, London Ferrill, who died two years before its completion. Under his leadership, the congregation grew to become Kentucky’s largest, black or white.

Ferrill was widely respected by both races. His funeral procession in 1854 was said to have been the largest Lexington had ever seen, save for one — that of Henry Clay two years earlier.

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Some updates to two recent columns

August 29, 2011

Brennan Donahoe, who broke his neck four years ago, entered his first Ironman triathlon on Sunday in Louisville. I told his story last week in this column.

Donahoe wrote me today that he finished the grueling 2.4-mile swim, 112-mile bike ride and 26.2-mile run in 11 hours and 10 minutes, which was 50 minutes sooner than he expected.



In another recent column, I wrote about plans to rededicate the statue of Confederate Gen. John Hunt Morgan, which stands in front of the Lexington History Museum.

The statue to the rebel raider was originally dedicated in front of what was then the Fayette County Courthouse 100 years ago. That ceremony attracted more than 10,000 spectators and marked a high point in Kentucky’s cultural redefinition, from Union state to “lost cause” sympathizer.

Jamie Millard, director of the Lexington History Museum, sent me these two photos. The first, from the original statue dedication on Oct. 17, 1911, and the second from last Saturday’s rededication, which he said attracted about 200 people.

Is Lexington’s old courthouse haunted?

July 14, 2010

The old Fayette County Courthouse, which is now the Lexington History Museum, certainly looks spooky, especially when streetlights illuminate its massive stone walls on a sultry summer night.

Before the Civil War, there was a busy slave auction block and whipping post beside the lawn. A man was hanged from a second-story window of a previous courthouse on the site. A lynch mob once tried to storm the building, and plenty of defendants over the years were unhappy with their guilty verdicts and sentences, which included death.

So, it seems logical to ask: is the 110-year-old edifice haunted?

That question found me standing silently in total darkness on a recent Friday night, inside the sweltering mechanical room just below the building’s dome. Beside me were museum President Jamie Millard and three “paranormal investigators” with a ghost-hunting group called Afterlife Investigations of Kentucky.

The investigators were armed with all manner of electronic gadgetry. And as our clothes were slowly soaked with sweat, they repeatedly called out to any spirits who might be lurking about: Do you want to talk? How did you die? Were you guilty?

I’m not sure I believe in ghosts, but Millard does, for the same reason most of these paranormal investigators do: they think they have shared a home with them.

Millard and his wife, Madelyn, are convinced that their home off Bryan Station Road is haunted by Otho Offutt, the man who built it in 1830. Offutt was an eccentric guy who played the piano. His claim to fame is that his brother, Denton, owned a general store in New Salem, Ill., that employed a young clerk named Abraham Lincoln.

The Millards have felt presences, found armoire doors opened and candlesticks moved on a mantle. “Once we heard the piano playing when there was nobody here to play it,” she said.

Plenty of ghost sightings have been reported in historic downtown Lexington. The Hunt Morgan House is said to be haunted by John Hunt Morgan’s nanny, Ma’am Bette, a slave who loved to wear a pair of red shoes the Confederate general gave her. But Allison Carter of the Blue Grass Trust for Historic Preservation, who lives in the house, said she has yet to encounter Ma’am Bette.

The ghost of a little girl has been reported in a Second Street building once used as a hospital. There also have been ghost sightings at the Bodley-Bullock and Peters houses on Gratz Park, and the old fire station on Jefferson Street.

“I haven’t ever felt a presence in this building,” Millard said of the old courthouse, “and I’m frequently here alone at night.”

Still, when the ghost hunters offered to check out the place, Millard figured, why not?

As soon as darkness fell that Friday night, the ghost hunters set up camcorders on tripods throughout the building; they videotaped and watched on a remote monitor. They got out digital thermometers, because they said spirits’ comings and goings are sometimes marked by rapid temperature changes. They had electromagnetic-field detectors, which they said can sometimes reveal a ghostly presence. And they used digital cameras and audio recorders to capture any sights and sounds that might not be apparent to human eyes and ears, investigator Ron Perkins said.

For the next several hours, small teams of investigators roamed the darkened museum, looking for signs of ghosts. “They don’t come out when you want them to,” investigator Ann Watts said. “They come out when they’re good and ready.”

Several Afterlife investigators said they took up ghost hunting as a hobby after living in a haunted house. They would hear strange noises, see strange sights, feel strange sensations. The group’s co-founder, Joe Patterson, said he once had a “negative entity” in his home so powerful that it threw a queen-size waterbed across the room. He said it left after he brought in a Pentecostal minister for a prayer session.

Afterlife has searched for spirits in buildings across Kentucky, and it claims to have found evidence of some. But by the time I left the old courthouse around midnight, nobody had found any there. By 2 a.m., even the investigators gave up the ghost.

“They found nothing,” Millard said. “They want to come back and take another shot at it, though, because there was a lot of street noise that evening.”

Millard doesn’t expect them to find any ghosts on their return visit, either. But he has invited them to check out his house. “I think there’s a lot more opportunity there,” he said.

If Otho Offutt agrees, I’ll let you know.

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Former VP takes to the air in Lexington

February 5, 2010

Jamie Millard, president of the Lexington History Museum, had a video camera running as workers moved the statue of former Vice President John Cabell Breckinridge across Cheapside to make way for construction of the new market house. Pretty cool. (Note Herald-Leader chief photographer Charles Bertram shooting photos the whole time.)

By the way, the museum today opened a new exhibit, which looks at the Lexington of 1810. It includes historic documents and a map showing Lexington’s surviving 200-year-old structures. The display is within the permanent exhibit, Lexington: Athens of the West.

Located in the old Fayette County Courthouse, 215 W. Main St., The Lexington History Museum is open Friday through Monday, Noon to 4 p.m, and Saturday, 10 a.m. to 4 p.m. Admission is free. For more information, call (859) 254-0530, or visit www.LexingtonHistoryMuseum.org.