Rockin' with Jimbo (we loved the guy, right?)

I covered a lot about James Maurice Thompson in earlier blogs, as well as other famous Fairfield natives. There are some more modern icons who didn't get a mention, mainly because ... I never got around to it. Hoping you will get around to it, though, and keep the Fairfield story alive. Check out the links I provide as well as the menu items on the right.

You will NOT run out of interesting finds. 

One of the most enigmatic figures of 19th century Fairfield is Thompson, Civil War veteran, legislator, lawyer, author, historian. His "Alice of Old Vincennes" was considered a classic for its time in 1900. Thompson was considered something of an expert in the sport of archery and his history textboook is chock full of interesting details. Plus, he was a great writer. He comes from curious stock. A compelling figure.

He was born in Fairfield in 1844 and the hut where he was spawned was moved to Vincennes in the early 1970s just prior to the completion of Brookville Lake. But the rock that marked his birthplace on the south side of town, was lost along the way.

Later, we found the rock and it sat unattended for years until the summer of 2017 when the Franklin County Historical Society gathered the ambition to move the stone to the Historical Society Seminary in Brookville. The rock has a home now. Thompson hasn't been lost in the weeds.

Thompson tells a Ray tale

From the history book "Stories of Indiana" by James Maurice Thompson, published in 1898. The Fairfield-born author describes an event that occurred during the administration of James B. Ray, governor of Indiana in 1824-31. Ray, from Brookville, was governor long before Thompson was born in 1844, so this story may not be legitimate, but it probably has some validity. It's likely the two knew each other at some point. Thompson's account of a murder trial and public execution in Pendleton in 1825: Governor James Brown Ray was, perhaps, the most eccentric man ever elected to the highest office in Indiana. He was very vain and fond of impressing everybody with a sense of his distinguished abilities and exalted official position. It was his habit to register his name in public places "J. Brown Ray, Governor Indiana," as if he were signing an official document. Whenever it was possible, he made a spectacular exhibition of himself before the people. In both dress and manner he sought to attract wondering attention. On one occasion he took advantage of the scene of a public execution of three murderers to make a melodramatic display. It was in 1825. Three white men had been condemned to death by hanging for the crime of killing some inoffensive Indians. The execution was to be at Pendleton. The prisoners were a father and son and the father's brother-in-law. The son, a mere youth, had aroused the sympathy of the people, and an appeal to Governor Ray for clemency had been signed by a great many. On the day set for the execution the two older men were hanged, while the boy sat by on his coffin, awaiting his turn at the rope's end. A vast crowd was present to witness the terrible stroke of justice. The murder had been a most revolting one, in which men, women, and children had shared alike, but when the poor, trembling boy stood upon the scafald, wildly and pathetically gazing around, everybody felt sorry for him, and hoped that Governor Ray would pardon him. Time passed, yet no word came from the executive, and the drop was about ready, when a wild shout went up from the multitude. Then all eyes saw Governor J. Brown Ray galloping majestically along in the direction of the gallows. He was mounted upon a superb horse splendidly caparisoned, and was himself dressed in the finest attire. His face wore a look of supreme self-importance. While the crowd gazed, he rode majestically to where the half-crazed young culprit stood, sprang from his saddle, and mounted the scaffold. "Young man," he said in a loud voice, "do you know who now stands before you?" "No, sir," answered the trembling boy. "Well, sir, it is time that you should know," continued the governor, drawing himself up stiffly. "There are, sir, but two beings in the great universe who can save you from death; one is the great God of Heaven, and the other is James Brown Ray, Governor of Indiana, who now stands before you. Here is your pardon. Go, sir, and sin no more!" It is perfectly safe to say that a governor of Indiana who should nowadays grant a pardon with a display like that would be looked upon as crazy. THIS LINK WILL GET YOU TO THE BOOK "STORIES OF INDIANA"  The boy's name is David Cooney. Photo from the early 60s. The stone was in front of the Methodist Parsonage, on the ground where JMT was born in 1844. The stone was moved to a site not far from Fairfield by Bob Chapman, who envisioned it as the entry to his new town. The town endeavor failed and the rock languished in the weeds for years. Then the county Historical Society rescued it. The stone was produced by a Garden Club to mark Thompson's birthplace. It holds no other historical value. Below: The stone is at home in Brookville.  The hut had its moment When the Vincennes Historical Society learned of the demise of Fairfield, it dispatched a team to town to rescue the Thompson hut. They placed it on a lot that showed pioneer village in Vincennes, the state's oldest continuously occupied town. Problem was, the hut had no connection to the village. The book "Alice of Old Vincennes" was a fiction about the time surrounding the American Revolution but hardly mattered to real history. Thompson had visited the town, took notes and created the story. It's a really great book. But Vincennes had no use for the hut, and finally converted it to a gift shop. Now, it's just storage. It's at the end of the pioneer village. Thompson had his moment. The story is a good one. The hut, not so much. That's it, on the end, with a blue door.  This is a can of tomatoes produced in the early 1900s, suggesting strongly that the producers were at least intrigued by the story. In those days, popular books were appealing to a class of consumers. I don't know much more about this can of tomatoes than that. I do know that Vincennes Lincoln (Ind.) High School has been known as the Alices since it started interscholastic sports.