All in all, I’d say Arkansas just one-upped Tennessee, which is not something that happens very often, unless you’re talking about poverty rates or Walmart headquarters. Which I’m not.
The competitive venue in this instance is the National Statuary Hall Collection in the U.S. Capitol. Every state gets two entries, and Arkansas just installed a statue of Johnny Cash.
I pretty much consider Johnny Cash to be ours, not theirs, but so it goes.
The statue collection was authorized by Congress in 1864. It called upon the president to “invite each of the states to provide and furnish statues in marble or bronze, not exceeding two in number each, of men who have been citizens thereof, illustrious in their historical renown or distinguished for their civic or military services, such as each State shall determine are worthy of national remembrance.”
Tennessee’s two representative works are of Andrew Jackson, placed in 1928, and John Sevier, in 1931. I’ll get back to them.
Since 2000, states have been able to replace either or both of their entries, and that’s how Johnny’s bronze likeness – unveiled on Sept. 25 – came to be. It joined another Arkansas newcomer this year, Daisy Lee Gatson Bates, a civil rights activist prominent in the Little Rock integration troubles of 1957.
They replaced Uriah Rose, a lawyer and Confederate sympathizer, and James Paul Clarke, who served the state as attorney general, governor and senator.
“Obscure” is a word sometimes used to describe them.
In all, 15 statues have been replaced, with one still pending: Virginia has withdrawn its rendering of Robert E. Lee, which had been in place since 1909. A likeness of Barbara Johns, a civil rights figure, is to succeed him.
Virginia’s other representative statue, George Washington, would appear to be safe. Though I’m sure it has its detractors, “Father of the Country” is a strong argument on the leave-it-there side.
My vote for the state with the best pair of statues goes to Oklahoma, which has been represented by Sequoyah, who invented the Cherokee tribe’s written language, since 1917, and the humorist Will Rogers since 1939. (No relation. Darn it.)
Kansas isn’t too shabby, either, with Dwight D. Eisenhower and Amelia Earhart. Both are replacements: Ike in 2003, Earhart in 2022. A host of unknowns help fill out the overall roster.
The worst pair of statues belongs – surprise! – to my home state, Mississippi. One is of James Zachariah George, a senator and Confederate military officer. The other is of Jefferson Davis.
Leave it to Mississippi to choose one of the nation’s greatest traitors to represent its people. (State Democratic lawmakers have filed legislation to replace the two. Don’t hold your breath.)
As for Tennessee’s pair, Old Hickory certainly has his critics, and not without reason. But it’s hard to argue against his place in the history of not just this state, but the entire country in its early years.
As for John Sevier: Revolutionary War hero and the state’s first governor. An obvious runner-up, but still…
Our best chance to regain the upper hand against Arkansas lies in the potential expansion of the collection to include three statues per state.
A number of proposals to do so have been introduced; none have succeeded, but who knows?
If that were to happen, then Tennessee could counter Arkansas with…who? Don’t say Dolly. For starters, when a statue of her was suggested for the state Capitol grounds, she pooh-poohed the idea. An even greater obstacle: The rules now require that anyone honored with a statue must have been dead for at least 10 years.
So, let’s see: We need someone sufficiently dead, with Tennessee bona fides and enough historical/celebrity wattage to compete with Johnny Cash. Gee, I don’t know, what about…Elvis?
Normally I’d argue that Mississippi has dibs on the King, by the same criterion that Arkansas can claim Johnny Cash: He was born there. But I’ll grant that Elvis’s fame and influence came after he relocated to Memphis and cede him to Tennessee. Meanwhile, I’d love to see Jefferson Davis replaced with a statue of another Mississippi native: Harold Lloyd Jenkins.
Sound obscure? You may know him by his stage name: Conway Twitty.
Joe Rogers is a former writer for The Tennessean and editor for The New York Times. He is retired and living in Nashville. He can be reached at jrogink@gmail.com