WHO?
Nash Boney is a history professor emeritus at the University of Georgia.
I grew up (or tried to) in the west end of Richmond, Va., a son of the privileged upper middle class. My heritage was pure Virginia—OK, my father was from North Carolina, but, hey, nobody’s perfect! I was educated for the first eight years at Westhampton Public School, then for the high school years at all-male St. Christopher’s Prep School. I then earned my Phi Beta Kappa key at Hampden-Sydney College in 1952.
All the schools I attended in my young life were segregated and most were all-male, a fact that surprises both my daughter and my students, who, having grown up later, can’t imagine how different the South, and indeed America, was in the middle of the 20th century.
Nash and France in front of their first home in Copley Hill’s married student housing at the University.During this period I also served in the Virginia National Guard (also segregated) for several years, and entered the U.S. Army (integrated) in 1954 as a rather shaky sergeant from the reserves. Some of my regular Army sergeant-colleagues put it a little more crudely, but you get the picture: lucky to have so much rank and privilege with so little real military experience. After about six months of training, I ended up in the Counter-Intelligence Corps in West Germany, mainly shuffling papers. Back in 1944 my older brother was almost killed in the Battle of the Bulge, and a good friend only a little ahead of me at Hampden-Sydney was killed in action in Korea. I lived comfortably with relatively minor inconveniences in Frankfurt am Main for 18 months; it was dumb luck, which would prove to be a main theme in my life.
When I returned to the U.S., the G.I. Bill hung like ripe fruit on a tree, and I entered the University of Virginia, where I earned my M.A. in American history in 1960 and Ph.D. in 1963. Professor Edward Younger skillfully and patiently directed my studies. An accomplished scholar as well as outstanding teacher, over the years he turned out waves of graduate students, including a few emerging giants like … but modesty silences me while realism blushes.
More important than anything else I did in those years, I married France Alice Bernard, a Parisian from the Sorbonne who was on Grounds for a year as an exchange student. After watching human beings eat corn on the cob (cow chow) at Blandy Farm, she was prepared for anything, and soon we settled in at Copley Hill, a kind of trailer park/Army camp for married veterans. This and similar low-rent, near-slums on other campuses were like an additional scholarship, but they have long ago been discreetly eliminated from today’s glowing colleges, though they lived on awhile as chicken coops and storage sheds.
Nash and France is their Copley Hill neighborhood.Later, with a new son we moved to a larger, more solid building more like an Army orderly or supply room but still a long way from Monticello. Our son, Bernard, was born at the University of Virginia Hospital, a true but not quite pure Virginian with a French mother—remember, nobody’s perfect. Our daughter, Claire, was born later in Georgia and graduated from the University of South Carolina. How a beautiful and bright young lady from Dawg Country could end up a Gamecock defies explanation. Obviously she can never be a real Virginian even though she married a true Richmonder and lives in the house I grew up in located in the preppie-yuppie West End.
A friend holds France and Nash’s son, Bernard, in front of their second home at Copley Hill’s married student housing. This building held two apartments separated by what Nash describes as a “very thin” wall.Our life while I was a student was rather Spartan by American standards; at the same time they were happy years whose memories endure. Most veterans were already getting a little long in the fang, so we stuck to business and avoided the University’s legendary party culture. We did, however, attend home football games. As an emerging historian, I felt duty-bound to observe the unfolding on one of the longest losing streaks in the history of the sport. Wahoo fans, true sportsmen, were of good cheer; in fact Scott Stadium was always awash in good cheer, and a good time was had by all, especially the visiting teams.
There was a community spirit among veterans’ families who helped each other out in tough times while looking forward to later success, all the while benefiting from the school’s facilities open even to this temporary “trailer trash” population. We had occasional wild times, like a meal out at Buddy’s or the University cafeteria. We enjoyed the subtle enchantment of “Mr. Jeffersom’s University” and the general Southern manners among almost everyone who trod his Grounds. We witnessed the stern honor code that survived fast-changing times, the odd coat and tie tradition among the gentlemen undergraduates who otherwise dressed rather casually to put it mildly (socks were not required) and the risky two-lane blacktop between Richmond and Charlottesville, a real adventure in modern living. It is with fond nostalgia that I recall the large bronze birdman, brightly polished here and there, preparing to fly away from the front of Alderman Library.
After serving as a T.A. in the French department and then working behind the main desk at Alderman Library, France taught French (what else?) at Saint Anne’s Prep School, just like St. Christopher’s but only girls, while I ground it out at Cabell Hall and Alderman Library. I was bright and hard-working and all that, but perseverance was the ultimate key to success. Part tortoise and part hare, I finally received the vaunted Ph.D. in 1963 while France was in Kentucky being sworn in as an American citizen. More good luck: I found the right lady and pursued the right profession.
Graduate classes at U.Va. were not exactly fun, but Younger, Orin Hale, Bernard Mayo, T. Cary Johnson (a Hampden-Sydney man), Thomas P. Abernethy and others made them fascinating as they got across the concept that being faculty at a university involved publishing as well a teaching. Guided by Dr. Younger, my thesis and then much expanded dissertation examined John Letcher, the Civil War governor of Virginia, and they evolved into my first book and many early articles—a good start.
Time flew by. One year at Murray State College, three years at Washington State University and 28 years at the University of Georgia made up a career that stressed “publish and flourish”—more positive than the traditional “publish or perish.”
Nine books, major sections of three more, more than a hundred articles and an equal number of book reviews centered on the antebellum and Civil War South, especially Georgia and Virginia. My most striking article defended rednecks, the ancestors of white southerners, even Virginians, and the solid folk who still take on the tough jobs like bloody combat in war and massive integration in peace while many of their self-proclaimed betters are unavailable. This short first essay appeared in the Georgia Review and a little later in the Intellectual Digest (which soon went under, obviously a coincidence), and it attracted a lot of attention and even a little praise. I also turned out some fine graduate students, though nowhere near Dr. Younger’s total, and gave the undergraduates their money’s worth, especially in huge survey sections of 300-400 living and mostly awake students. All this led to a full professorship—academic Valhalla!
France earned an M.A. in French at the University of Georgia along with her Phi Beta Kappa key, making us a twofer family. Then she taught for some years at Athens Academy and 17 years at Cedar Shoals High School, a public school. Thus once again the immigrant did yeoman work for her new nation while the native American got most of the gravy.
What an inspiring story! A lad from Richmond and a lass from Paris, rise together to one of the three heights of academia in the western world: Oxford, Harvard and the University of Georgia!
Nash and France in front of their 1953 Chevy Bel Air. Nash says, “Since I was a sergeant in the Army, I was able to ship it free to Europe, where in 1954-55, it traveled all over Germany and nearby areas visited by the Wehrmacht during World War II. Later, it carried us to Murray State, Washington State University and the University of Georgia, where it was finally junked in 1968.”
Comments
although fortunate enough to not be a virginia,georgia or hampden-sydney graduate i have known professor boney and his family for many years and have enjoyed his humurous writings of richmond, the south and rednecks in general.retirement has not robbed his pen of hilarious observation.
Nash Boney is a treasure and the University of Georgia has been fortunate to have him as part of our family!
Nash is the epitome of the southern gentlemsn. Bright, creative and talented, he has not lost any of his edge with the years. We are proud to number him among the Bulldog nation. His contributions to UGA and his profession are yet to be fully appreciated.
Sadly, Nash did not comment on his visits to the Northern Neck of Virginia both with his family and later. He had a memorable summer job there with the electric company if I remember correctly. His family lived next door to my first cousin in Richmond where his daughter still lives. Amazing! He was always a humorous and modest? person.
Loved article. I lived in both units—-the 1 room trailer(36.50 month) and the 2 bedroom grand house($48. all utilities included) I have fond memories of both. Of course I spent most of my time in the library. I did however try to set the field on fire with a cherry bomb for fun. The urban legend was that the wall were so thin a couple in the midst of passion fell against the joining wall and broke through. PhD, economics 1965—still working and doing Ironman races(5 total)one last year. Will do IMFL again Nov 7,2010
It is with great joy and affection that I read this mini autobiography. Nash Boney has certainly retained his edge and France her charm and grace. The gentle humor enriches their story and the photos are wonderful! I know France relived their adventures in getting them together for the article. For me, it was a window into “the way they were.” I loved finding out about my friends, their life together, their accomplishments and honors, all delivered in a warm and comfortable style as if we were sitting on the porch in rocking chairs or by the fire side.
Thank you7 for prompting Nash to put this all down for posterity….and for us.
Dr. Boney, We must have been at Holabird at the same time. I was in Group 295 late ‘54, early ‘55. Some of my best buddies went to units in Germany. Would you remember Jack Brust, George Mack, Pete Platt, Ed Pastefka ? Just a shot in the dark, I grew up in Ch’ville and remember Copely Hill well. Enjoyed your article. Bill Stott Coll’54 Law ‘59
Dr. Boney’s article brought back many fond memories of the time my wife, daughter and I spent on Copley Hill, initially in Trailer 85 for a year and a half and then to the “huge” apartment we had down the hill in the former Army barracks, while I was in the Law School from 1956 to 1959. I remember how I packed my refrigerator on my daughter’s little red wagon and rolled it down the hill to our new apartment when we moved there in 1958. The red wagon was also used to pack our laundry which then went up the hill to the wash house where there were a couple of washers and dryers. We had no telephone—to save money—and used the pay ohone in the post office back of our trailer. Now when I go back to UVA I tell everybody that we used to live where JPJ gym is located.
This is a facinating account of student life on Copely Hill. I will look for some of Prof Boney’s work. While a student in Blacksburg and later in Charlottesville I always admired the determination of students who were veterans. Their experiencial insights were very educational. Copely Hill was much more cleaned up upon my arrival in 1967. I believe that my entry(drafted) into the US Army in 1969 was much less anxious because I had known a number of veterans and many from the “Greatest Generation”. I too met my wife at UVa and we enjoyed thirty-five years of wedded bliss before her untimely passing. This is a wonderful insight into how we americans value our educational opportunities.
I enjoyed the article and the photos. I am related to professor Boney and have always enjoyed his many books. I understand his upbringing as I too was born and raised in Virginia. I lived and attended segregated schools. Hopefully he will continue to write more interesting articles of his life experiences.
I grew up in Copeley Hill, with my dad graduating in 1950 just a month after I was born. First I think we were in University Gardens. It gives me a strange feeling to see those photos. We lived next door to Mr & Mrs Ed Floyd. He was a mathmatician. The walls were so thin I could hear the grown-ups playing bridge next door—the comforting sound of my mother Mary’s laugh and my dad’s typical remarks: “A small slam in spade! Who woulda thunk it!” and so on. There were piles of soot from the space heaters dumped out back. There was some little stream at the foot of the him, which I fell into. Dad worked after graduation in the Alumni Offixce and mom at the Cavalier Daily. All a long time ago! I remember dad’s office in the Rotunda vividly. A divinity student taught me the Lord’s Prayer while rubbing Vick’s Va-Po-Rub on my chest because I had a bad cold. I could not have been more than three years old. 1953. I always recite the Lord’s Prayer if I smell Vick’s Va-Po-Rub.
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