Lions, Tigers and Bears...

My first day as the Executive Director of the Museum of East Texas started with an interesting discovery. It was my first directorship and I learned the hard way that museum boards never share with a candidate the Museum's real challenges during the job interview process. In most cases they don't recognize them as problems. That was the case with the museum of art and history located in the piney woods of East Texas.

The museum was housed in an old Episcopal Church near downtown Lufkin and across the street from the city's new convention center. On the day of my interview I toured the buildings with the interim director. My cursory review of the director's office revealed a huge wooden desk sitting atop a Persian rug, a number of filing cabinets and an air mattress on the floor. When I inquired about the air mattress I was told the former director spent the last few days of his tenure camped out in his office. The only thing hanging on the wall was a peculiar and vicious looking stuffed Baboon mounted on a faux tree limb. Unfortunately, I didn't inquire about the baboon during the tour.

A image of a similar baboon

After settling into the office on my first day, my assistant, Vanessa Van Natta, gave me a basic orientation of museum operations, showing me how the phones worked, the filing systems, and a really cool index card "database" of museum members with neatly typed information and a picture of each individual, couple or family group glued in the upper left corner (this was 1987). I interrupted her presentation and asked about the stuffed Baboon hanging on the wall in my office. She replied, "Oh, they didn't tell you about the animal collection?" I was overcome by a morbid curiosity. 

During my site visit and interview with the museum's board I saw portions of the Lufkin Rotary Club Collection of Western Art, a number of works by regional artists from Texas, a very nice collection of Modern prints and works on paper, a well-organized collection of historical photographs from the 19th century, and an installation replicating the inside of a 19th century general store - a major attraction for the local schools. It was a nice beginning for a small art and history museum. No one said anything about branching out into natural science.

I believe my favorite part of any museum is the collections storage area. The careful arrangement of collections, identification labels, glicine wrappings and acid free boxes give me a sense of order.
Instead of heading for the collections storage building, Vanessa led me to the old pew-less church sanctuary which was serving as a social area for the museum. She opened two large doors leading to the choir room located behind the altar. Hundreds of glassy eyes stared back at me. It looked like an orgy of fur, claws and teeth haphazardly piled in the dark confined space. "I would turn on the light switch but it's on the other side of the room." Vanessa explained. "How many are there?" I responded in total shock. I could make out a standing Grizzly Bear in the back and near the front, a pouncing lion. I saw a myriad of deer and antelope heads and elephant foot stools with Zebra skin seat cushions. "I'm not sure, over a hundred, maybe?" she replied.

Later that day I had lunch with the Museum Board President and he explained that the trophy collection had been given by a retired physician from the community. He was a member of the prestigious Pineywoods Safari Club, an exotic game hunting and preservation organization. Apparently his wife had given him an ultimatum and just like that the symbols of the good Doctor's manhood and virility were "out the door" and now on my doorstep.

I learned from my minister Father that you don't poke-the-bear if you don't have too, especially on your first day on the job. Weeks passed and I had quiet conversations with board members regarding my concern for the investment of time and resources in the perpetual care of what was essentially a trophy collection, not even a scientific collection.  I could handle the programs and administration of the art and the local history collections, but this was a totally different animal. My background was in visual art. During one of our first board meetings it was determined that we would pursue the construction of a new museum facility and the renovation of the existing church buildings for the purpose of education and social activities. Fortunately, during these deliberations everyone agreed we could afford to operate a bi-discipline museum, but adding a natural science collection was unreasonable. Besides, the city already boasted an accredited Zoo. The people in Lufkin were very kind. Say what you want about Texans, they are generous people, just don't cross them. No one wanted to insult the Dr. and his family but it was imperative that we find another home for the trophy collection.

The old Episcopal Church

There are occasions when the light of providence comes right down on your problem and reveals the solution. This happened one morning when the Dr. dropped by the museum. He sat in my office with his fingers laced on his stomach and a smile on his face. "I've got a proposition for you," he said.  I began listening for the catch. He bashfully explained that he had found himself on the wrong side of the law when he was accosted for trying to make his way home after partying with his golf buddies at Crown Colony Country Club. The penalty was one month community service and of course, a hefty fine. He wondered if he could serve out his community service through the museum.

I learned in Sunday School that "...all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to his purpose."  I've always said that "God looks out for fools, drunks and Mark Tullos... in that order." Well, here was evidence of that great truth. This was my opportunity. I could work on the Dr.'s perspective concerning his collection and perhaps win over a convert, an advocate for transferring the hunting trophies to another organization. Better yet, maybe he would support the idea of selling the trophy mounts, with the proceeds benefiting the museum's new building campaign and endowment.

Over the next month we became friends. We made a bargain to present parts of the collection in conjunction with a museum fundraiser to be called The Wild Game Dinner. After the event we would seek to sell the trophy mounts to benefit the museum or find a suitable home for them in the community.

The fundraiser was a huge success. The Safari Club wives and members of the Lufkin Service League presented a stunning feast including exotic water buffalo roast, baked Guinea Fowl, Kudu steaks and wild boar kabobs. We dined in the old church sanctuary by candlelight under the frozen gaze of the very creatures we were eating. Guests donned pith helmets and khaki outfits. The event was a huge success. We even secured a lead for the possible sale of all the mounts. An abatement attorney from Houston was building a huge hunting lodge in the Big Bend region of Texas. Apparently he needed some décoration appropriée for his new getaway.

An entry in the museum newsletter

Unfortunately, the sale never came to fruition. The attorney flew into Lufkin regional on his private plane, spent about 15 minutes with the trophy mounts, and said abruptly, "not interested, they're not shot right." He left. I remember looking at our Board President and asking, "Not shot right?" He just shrugged.


Months later we finally came up with a solution.The Superintendent of the Lufkin Independent School district was a big sportsman. He even provided his elementary cafeterias with venison from his fall hunting trips. The trophy collection was to be installed on the cafeteria walls of the local schools. I can imagine that after nearly three decades there are a lot of animal rights activists who forged their convictions in the school cafeterias of Lufkin, Texas.

By 1989, we established a formal collections policy and accessioned every artwork and local history object into the permanent collection. We also raised the funds needed for the new museum and renovation of the old church facilities and opened the new MET in Lufkin on a beautiful September day, sans trophy mounts.

Groundbreaking for the new museum.

The new Museum of East Texas we opened in 1989 with the renovated church in the background.