Abraham Lincoln tomb custodian Herbert Wells Fay’s grand vision for the 1931 reconstruction of the tomb from an anecdotal historical footnote into a state-of-the-art museum was dashed by state officials. He suggested that the state did not “appreciate its Lincoln advantage.” Contrarily, the rededicated tomb turned out to be even more austere than before and now his beloved home state was ordering him to remove his memorabilia and tone down his tours. For the next sixteen years, Fay would play a skillful game of cat-and-mouse with state officials and fall back on his old ways of leading tours and intermittently pepper the tomb interior with his Lincoln artifacts. In 1947 the state of Illinois ordered him, once and for all, to remove his Lincoln “traps” from the tomb. Fay ducked and dodged for two more years before he was forced to retire on January 1, 1949.
He was two months shy of his 90th birthday and his retirement was mandatory under the state’s new retirement system. His 63-year-old son, Earl Owen Fay, was appointed the new custodian by Governor Dwight Green. Although officially no longer on the state payroll, H.W. Fay’s life changed very little. Earl, who had been his father’s assistant for three years previous, moved into the “Lincoln Lodge” caretaker’s cottage next to the tomb following the death of Herbert’s wife Helen in 1944. Until a few weeks before his death, Mr. Fay visited the tomb daily, spending hours each day with his collection (he stubbornly still kept his lab in the back of the tomb) and greeting visitors.
On October 25, 1949 Herbert Wells Fay died peacefully in his sleep inside the stone caretaker’s cottage 150 feet from his martyred hero Abraham Lincoln. Illinois Governor Henry Horner promised Herbert Wells Fay that his beloved Lincoln collection would someday be given to the state and displayed in the Sangamon County courthouse, known as “The Old State Capitol” where Lincoln delivered his “House Divided” speech. Fay’s dream was to have his collection kept intact by the state and displayed as part of a Lincoln national memorial. Horner’s illness and 1940 death in office put an end to those plans.
In the 1990s, a portion of the H.W. Fay collection sold for $1.5 million. Luckily, some of the items were donated to the Illinois State Historical Library (now Abraham Lincoln Presidential Library) including more than 300 letters, 40 broadsides and posters, 150 photographs and images, including some of Lincoln; more than a dozen books and pamphlets, and more than 1,000 newspaper clippings — all part of the original Fay collection.
Now here I stood, not more than 200 yards from my hero Herbert W. Fay’s grave, holding a framed photo of the man himself. The image presents a youthful profile bust portrait that bears the authentic fountain pen signature of Mr. Fay signed “H.W. Fay Lincoln Tomb Custodian August 13, 1925” on his image. To most, the photo meant nothing. To me, it was the Holy Grail. I nervously asked “Lincoln Souvenir & Gift Shop” owner Melissa R. King if she could ever bear to part with the relic. She informed me that she was unsure and would have to call her father-in-law, Jack King (son of the couple who founded the shop back in 1938 and father of her late husband Dean) and ask. I told her I would meet her at 9:30 the next morning.
It was a long, restless night to say the least. Sleep came hard as I entertained every possible answer to my query, good and bad. In the end, I was simply happy that Melissa was entertaining the idea of parting with the photo at all. My usual routine at historical sites is to get up early, before the tour buses and casual tourists arrive, and chase the sunrise out to whatever site I may find myself at and quietly wake up with a cup of coffee and a good cigar.
This morning, like many a past morning, I found myself with my usual historical running buddy Chuck Hodson as we headed out to the Lincoln Home in downtown Springfield. The “Lincoln Block” area has been restored to it’s 1860 appearance with dirt/stone roads and wooden boardwalk sidewalks and distinctly void of utility poles or motorized traffic. We had the place to ourselves to reflect, reminisce, and dream. We left for Oak Ridge cemetery, but not before stopping off to get some Mel-O-Cream donuts for our brides, who were wisely still sleeping back in the hotel rooms, and arrived at the Lincoln tomb. For the next hour-and-a-half, Chuck and I watched as families, couples and history fans arrived to rub the nose of the Lincoln statue for good luck, take a few pictures and wander around the grounds. We never talked about the pink elephant in the room that morn; the Fay picture.
It was 9:30 and we decided to swing by the souvenir shop. As we pulled in to the parking lot, there stood Melissa behind the counter with her ever-present smile in place as she talked with early morning shoppers. I walked up and asked, “Did you get ahold of anyone?” She knew exactly what I was talking about as she turned, retrieved the picture and walked over to me as she said. “No, I couldn’t get an answer. So I made an executive decision. Happy Birthday!” She handed me the photo and I nearly fainted. For once, I was at a complete loss of words. I awkwardly heaped a liturgy of the usual platitudes upon her; “Bless your heart… I can’t thank you enough… How kind of you…” etc… She replied, “Just pay it forward.” I had to leave, partly because I wanted to show it to Rhonda at the hotel across the street but mostly because I thought I might burst into tears. Rhonda was just as surprised as I was and insisted that I return and thank Melissa properly, which I promptly did.
How could a photo elicit this much emotion, you might ask? Because Herbert Wells Fay is one of my three favorite Lincoln personalities, Osborn Oldroyd and John Carroll Power being the other two. Oldroyd has been the subject of a past “Bumps” column series and Power will be profiled in a future column. Fay devoted his life to Lincoln. He fell out of favor with some for simply being true to himself. When it came to Lincoln, Wells thought deeply and he thought passionately. So when he spoke of Lincoln to tomb visitors, it was hard for him to contain his enthusiasm regardless of the somber atmosphere.
I have visited the tomb many times and each time I am very aware that I am walking in Mr. Fay’s footsteps. I made a friend of former Assistant tomb custodian Mikle Siere (now retired), a transplanted Hoosier whose reverential exuberance for the tomb eclipsed my own. Mikle escorted me over every square inch of the Lincoln tomb. Thanks to Mikle, I climbed the ladders to the areas of the tomb most visitors never get to see. I walked on the debris of that 1930-31 total tomb restoration, stood over the bodies of Mary, Tad, Willie and Eddie, saw where Lincoln’s body lay secretly buried for decades to dissuade grave robbers and visited the former back room site of Mr. Fay’s “lab.”
Mikle showed me the remaining chunks of marble that once formed Lincoln’s sarcophagus which are now stored safely inside the tomb. One of them still had remnants of the inscription chiseled upon it and I was allowed to hold it in my hands. That particular stone rests in a H.W. Fay like glass case in Memorial Hall now; a fact I’m sure would make Mr. Fay smile. Mikle escorted me to and through the “Lincoln Lodge” cottage next to the tomb. It is now the office of the new custodian. Here Mr. Fay lived for 30 years and here he died. I was allowed to hold the original family tomb markers of Mary and her three sons as well as that of Grandson Abraham “Jack” Lincoln II whose body was removed to Arlington National cemetery to be with his father Robert.
In my travels to the tomb, I’ve been fortunate enough to experience for myself all of the elements of the tomb so closely associated with Herbert Wells Fay. But I doubt that I will ever get as close to Mr. Fay as I did that day. That photo had likely hung on the wall of the Lincoln Souvenir & Gift Shop since the days when Mr. Fay was on active duty there. He may well have walked into the shop himself or at the very least passed by the building daily.
The Hunters and the Hodsons returned to shop, hang out and talk with Melissa. Turns out that she has connections to Indiana. One of her children lives in Thorntown and Melissa has visited the Hoosier State many times. (There’s ALWAYS a Hoosier connection.) After I offered a proper thank-you for her gift, she answered, “I’m glad it went to someone who will appreciate it. Jack (her father-in-law) knew Mr. Fay and will be glad it went to a good home.” I asked of future plans for the shop and she answered, “I’m the end of the line. My kids have no interest and there’s no-one else. I figure five years, ten years tops until I retire.” Noting my obvious romantic infatuation with her log cabin souvenir stand she said, “Al, come see me in five years and we’ll talk. I’ll put you in the Lincoln business.” I might just do that Melissa, I might just do that. Oh, and that photo? It hangs on my office wall as the centerpiece of my own modest Lincoln collection. I look at it every day. Herbert W. Fay, Mikle Siere, Melissa King. They are all angels of Oak Ridge Cemetery.
Al Hunter is the author of the “Haunted Indianapolis” and co-author of the “Haunted Irvington” and “Indiana National Road” book series. His newest book is “Bumps in the Night. Stories from the Weekly View.” Contact Al directly at Huntvault@aol.com or become a friend on Facebook.
