The conversation was what the engineer had expected. The directors were going to get rid of Borglum and were offering him $15,000 a year to carry on the building of the memorial. Tucker laughed. It was Borglum’s idea, he said. He wouldn’t consider taking the job even if he thought himself qualified.
Randolph seemed disappointed. “You could put something up there that would be satisfactory,” he said.
Tucker telephoned to Gutzon in Washington and begged him to come back. The sculptor said he would. The next day Hollins Randolph gave out a statement which at least one Atlanta newspaper printed under the heading: “Borglum’s Dismissal as Sculptor Is Imminent.”
Gutzon was back in Atlanta twenty-four hours after receiving Tucker’s message. A meeting of the executive committee of the Association had been called for the next day. But the sculptor fully believed that his contract would protect him, and he was not so worried as his friends. Virtually everybody else in Atlanta knew what the executive committee was going to do. A full copy of the proceedings of the scheduled meeting, to its climax in a resolution dismissing Gutzon Borglum, had been given in advance to the Atlanta Journal and was in type hours before the committeemen were called to order.
The sculptor was met at the station in Atlanta by Tucker, who drove him out to Stone Mountain. Sam Venable was waiting for him there with his sister Mrs. Mason; Mrs. Grace, of Macon, Georgia; and Mrs. Purdue, president of the Atlanta chapter of the U.D.C. The women went up on the scaffolding to view the progress of the work.
Word of what was happening in Atlanta took the sculptor completely by surprise. He listened, stunned, to the telephone message that the committee had voted to dismiss him. Quietly he broke the news to the little group about him, then considered the situation.
“I shall have to break up the models to protect my design,” he said.
The plaster model of Lee’s head had already served its purpose. There was a copy of the Jackson head in Stamford. He ordered these models to be dropped off the platform onto the rocks below. And, finally, he told his man Homer to break up the model in the studio, the one showing Davis on his horse. Mr. Venable said there were tears in his eyes as he took one last look at his work and turned his back.
He talked to the U.D.C. women in Mrs. Coribel Venable Orme’s house, urging them to carry on without him. Then suddenly Tucker came bounding in from the road and took him by the arm.
“Quick!” Tucker said. “Kiss your wife good-by.”