Boll Weevil Statue Enterprise Alabama

Boll Weevil Monument at sunset. Way up at the summit, that's the weevil.

Boll Weevil Monument

Enterprise, Alabama

The Boll Weevil Monument, now a century old, comes from a less-enervating time of roadside novelty. Similar other venerable marvels -- the Fountain of Youth, the Paper House -- it has a weirdness that's easy to visualize, the kind of allure you'd see drawn as a cartoon on a 1940s postcard map of the 48 states. A monument to a bug? How zany!

1919 monument dedication. A rare photograph of the original fountain in action.

The monument was the brainstorm of Roscoe Owen "Bon" Fleming, man of affairs, city councilman, and rogue promoter of the town of Enterprise. The boll weevil, a tiny cotton-eating insect, had invaded Alabama, and Enterprise seized the opportunity to abandon cotton wool for other crops -- particularly peanuts -- which brought newfound prosperity to the town.

In 1919 Fleming convinced Enterprise to put up a monument celebrating the bug, hoping to call attention to the town's triumph over adversity, and to entice curious travelers. "Objections came in from all over the country," according to a story in the Enterprise Ledger, but Fleming -- labeled the "daddy" of the monument -- "brushed criticism aside." Half of the money for the monument'due south purchase came from Fleming's ain pocket. It was built in 1 of the town'due south main street intersections -- mayhap non coincidentally just a few feet from Fleming'south full general store.

George Washington Carver: his peanut research helped spur Enterprise's economic revival.

Fleming has been bashed by some modern critics for honoring the weevil instead of George Washington Carver, the Alabama African-American agronomist who championed the peanut. A Carver monument would have been equally newsworthy as one for the boll weevil, but, sadly, information technology was never going to happen in segregated 1919 Alabama. Fleming may have felt bad about that. He invited Carver to be the chief speaker at the monument'southward dedication -- only pelting done out the railroad tracks and Carver never made it to town.

Part of the Boll Weevil Monument'due south enduring appeal is its quirky design. A future generation might have simply built a giant peanut, but that would take missed the point. The monument wasn't actually virtually peanuts -- or the weevil. Information technology was about turning an insect plague into prosperity.

Fleming's monument was an elaborate fountain, over 13 feet high, with a neoclassical statue of a Greek woman wearing a peplos and holding an oil lamp over her head (which served as the fountain nozzle). Ii pendulous light globes hung from the statue'south pedestal, and a walled basin protected the statue from traffic and probably served as an unofficial drinking fountain for mules. Fleming supposedly imported the metal statue all the way from Italy, fifty-fifty though nigh of the monument came from the Bama Foundry Co., only xc miles away in Montgomery. It isn't beyond imaging that Fleming simply fabricated upwards the story about the Italian statue, or at to the lowest degree didn't discourage it. This was, after all, a human who turned republic of guinea hens loose in his shop and offered a discount to anybody who could catch one. He understood the value of flair.

The monument was considered postcard-worthy even before it hoisted a weevil.

Bon Fleming, insect pest visionary.

Surprisingly, one thing missing from the Boll Weevil Monument was a boll weevil. The simply hint of the bug was a single mention of information technology on a plaque bolted to the fountain, and it was a small plaque. That was enough; in 1919 simply dedicating a monument to an insect was considered headline-worthy.

But times changed, and the monument changed with them. The streets of Enterprise were paved, mules stopped plodding through downtown, and the walled basin was topped with a spiked track to discourage pranksters from tossing things into the fountain such as laundry detergent and babe alligators. The metal statue was painted white, leading to the mutual misperception -- probably fueled by the Italian republic story -- that the Greek lady was marble (She wasn't).

The near significant change to the monument, however, was something it was never designed for: a boll weevil.

Credit for adding the weevil goes to to an Enterprise artisan named Luther Baker -- and also to the monument'south messy fountain. There are many old photos of the monument, but just 1, taken on its dedication day, shows water spraying out of the Greek lady'southward lamp -- and the footing outside the basin is wet, and no one is continuing too close. The fountain appears to have been too vigorous for its ain good. It was eventually shut off. Nonetheless, 30 years passed before Baker came forward with the seemingly obvious suggestion that a Boll Weevil Monument should take a boll weevil. He fashioned a minor metallic version, about the size of a man's fist, and in 1949 mounted it to the now-dry nozzle hole atop the Greek lady'southward lamp. If visitors didn't squint they'd probably miss it, but information technology was a start.

Today's monument, topped with a mega-weevil.

The boll weevil proved to exist a tempting target, despite its lofty perch and public location. Information technology disappeared in 1953, 1974, 1981, and 1985 (a failed theft). Each fourth dimension a new weevil was added, and each time the weevil was larger than the one before. Enterprise apparently understood the need for more a bug-focused allure, and bigger weevils kept the monument at the top of the "quirky attraction" list amid e'er-college company expectations.

Bug-nappers made their terminal assault on July xi, 1998, not only ripping off the weevil but the Greek lady'south arms also. The damage was irreparable. Practiced fortune, even so, once again favored Enterprise: a mold of the entire monument had been made in 1996, and that mold was at present used to cast an exact replica out of unbreakable polymer resin. It was unveiled on Dec 15, 1998, and has remained unmolested ever since.

The Boll Weevil Monument at age 100 looks amend than it did at age ane -- a tribute to Enterprise'southward stewardship -- and is topped with a weevil the size of a basset hound that would have astonished Bon Fleming. He would, all the same, still recognize the text of its plaque, at present moved to a historical marker on the street corner:

This monument is erected by the citizens of
Enterprise, Java Canton, Alabama
In profound appreciation of the boll weevil
And what it has done as the Herald of Prosperity.

Boll Weevil Statue Enterprise Alabama,

Source: https://www.roadsideamerica.com/story/11088

Posted by: carterdirld1985.blogspot.com

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