The Cafe Anarchy: Howard I. Scott, III

The following newspaper article is shamelessly stolen from the online version of the Macon Telegraph on the date listed below. I do this only to propogate the article, as it will be deleted from the online archives at some point.

Posted on Sun, Oct. 03, 2004

Macon Arts says thanks to Bill Lane with its Lifetime Achievement Award

By Joe Kovac Jr.
Telegraph Staff Writer

When Mercer University welcomed a 43-year-old English instructor to campus at the end of the 1960s, Macon should have known then, if it didn't already, what it was getting. The answer to what it was getting was, after all, in the town paper, at the foot of a six-paragraph write-up.

Nah, not the part about William Lane being a Fulbright scholar.

Or the mention of his master's degree from Princeton.

Or the listing of his stint with Army counterintelligence during World War II.

Or the bit about him speaking Japanese.

No, the best part was at the very end of the 219-word blurb, scrunched beneath the headline "Lane Joins Mercer Faculty."

The last four words said it all; words that on July 14, 1969, said Lane's research interests included "the history of ideas."

The history of ideas? For a boy who grew up on a dirt road at the edge of Macon? For a man who, in his mid-30s, had pretty much had the memory knocked clean out of him when he was thrown from the car he was driving during a wreck ?

Ideas, their genesis? In a city where it would be nearly 15 years before schools would teach sex education, and then only after this local-boy-done-smart went and got himself elected to the Bibb County Board of Education?

Then again, what better man or place for ideas? For classical music? For the arts? For all that pretty stuff that to this day so many folks can't help taking for granted?

Because when it came down to it, all Lane ever dreamed of doing was opening people's minds.

But not by himself. You kidding? You ever try selling choral Bach to a teenager? His hope was art appreciation through education. Enthusiastic education, not sitting and reading about Sousa marches. No, Lane backed the Bibb County Institute for Arts in Education, where the aim was to teach teachers how to turn kids on to art.

Lane once told an interviewer, "There is enough evidence to show that the arts can help children understand ... reading and math. ... People think of the arts as so foreign and esoteric - they associate arts with white tie, top hat and tails, jewelry and furs, an expensive dinner - as if the arts were only the property of the rich."

In 1990, the year he won a Governor's Award in the Arts, the head of the Macon Arts Alliance said Lane was "without peer in terms of financial support of the arts in Macon." But his philanthropy was hardly just monetary, for as that Arts Alliance leader, Nancy Brown, went on to say in a newspaper article back then, "once he gets involved, he stays involved. ... He's not an outsider looking in - he has a deep knowledge of and insight into most facets of the arts."

'People don't see it'

Now a decade and a half later, that same organization, known now as Macon Arts, is giving Lane its Lifetime Achievement Cultural Award. The award is named for Rosalyn Elkan, a longtime arts supporter who died in 2000.

"He has really done so much for the arts in Macon, and a lot of times people don't see it," Lynn Cass, Macon Arts' executive director, says. "But he's really given of his money and also his time and talent."

Lane, who settled in Macon after his father's death in the 1960s, attended law school at Mercer. But for only a semester or so. He says, "I wasn't planning to be a lawyer, I just wanted to get a better taste of what the law was."

And it is perhaps that horizon-broadening approach to living that best describes a man who isn't much for talking about himself.

He is the kind of guy who gives and gives to arts groups - "as much as I can afford" - but whose deeds to those groups may mean even more.

He's the philanthropist who says, No, thank you:

"Some of the best teachers I ever had anywhere, in school, college, graduate school, were in high school at Lanier. ... I owe a permanent thanks to them."

Lane is the kind of man who runs for school board, as he first did in the mid-'70s, and then goes to schools and actually sits in on classes.

The kind of fellow who, once voted school board president, goes back to high school at age 55 for a refresher course in algebra.

The kind of guy who can preside over the Macon Symphony's board of directors and admit to giving up the violin at age 16 after hearing a recording of himself playing.

"I'm not a performing artist. I don't play an instrument," he says. "I like to sing in a chorus, but I have no solo voice."

The kind of guy, in fact, who figures he owes his life, at least part of it, to music.

After a car wreck in the early '60s threw his brain for a loop and all but emptied his memory, it was his love of music that remained intact.

"What made more difference than anything else was music and the associations I had with different pieces of music. Everything I listened to just brought back something with it," Lane says.

"It was music I listened to, books I read, that brought back all sorts of things. ... It made me realize what a debt I owed to music."

To contact Joe Kovac Jr., call 744-4397 or e-mail jkovac@macontel.com.


hanks to My Dad and Appreciation from Me
	The following newspaper article is shamelessly stolen from the online version of the Macon Telegraph on the date listed below. I do this only to propogate the article, as it will be deleted from the online archives at some point. Posted on Sun, Oct. 03, 2004 Macon Arts says thanks to Bill Lane with its Lifetime Achievement Award By Joe Kovac Jr. Telegraph Staff Writer When Mercer University welcomed a 43-year-old English instructor to campus at the end of the 1960s, Macon should have known then, if it didn't already, what it was getting. The answer to what it was getting was, after all, in the town paper, at the foot of a six-paragraph write-up. Nah, not the part about William Lane being a Fulbright scholar. Or the mention of his master's degree from Princeton. Or the listing of his stint with Army counterintelligence during World War II. Or the bit about him speaking Japanese. No, the best part was at the very end of the 219-word blurb, scrunched beneath the headline "Lane Joins Mercer Faculty." The last four words said it all; words that on July 14, 1969, said Lane's research interests included "the history of ideas." The history of ideas? For a boy who grew up on a dirt road at the edge of Macon? For a man who, in his mid-30s, had pretty much had the memory knocked clean out of him when he was thrown from the car he was driving during a wreck ? Ideas, their genesis? In a city where it would be nearly 15 years before schools would teach sex education, and then only after this local-boy-done-smart went and got himself elected to the Bibb County Board of Education? Then again, what better man or place for ideas? For classical music? For the arts? For all that pretty stuff that to this day so many folks can't help taking for granted? Because when it came down to it, all Lane ever dreamed of doing was opening people's minds. But not by himself. You kidding? You ever try selling choral Bach to a teenager? His hope was art appreciation through education. Enthusiastic education, not sitting and reading about Sousa marches. No, Lane backed the Bibb County Institute for Arts in Education, where the aim was to teach teachers how to turn kids on to art. Lane once told an interviewer, "There is enough evidence to show that the arts can help children understand ... reading and math. ... People think of the arts as so foreign and esoteric - they associate arts with white tie, top hat and tails, jewelry and furs, an expensive dinner - as if the arts were only the property of the rich." In 1990, the year he won a Governor's Award in the Arts, the head of the Macon Arts Alliance said Lane was "without peer in terms of financial support of the arts in Macon." But his philanthropy was hardly just monetary, for as that Arts Alliance leader, Nancy Brown, went on to say in a newspaper article back then, "once he gets involved, he stays involved. ... He's not an outsider looking in - he has a deep knowledge of and insight into most facets of the arts." 'People don't see it' Now a decade and a half later, that same organization, known now as Macon Arts, is giving Lane its Lifetime Achievement Cultural Award. The award is named for Rosalyn Elkan, a longtime arts supporter who died in 2000. "He has really done so much for the arts in Macon, and a lot of times people don't see it," Lynn Cass, Macon Arts' executive director, says. "But he's really given of his money and also his time and talent." Lane, who settled in Macon after his father's death in the 1960s, attended law school at Mercer. But for only a semester or so. He says, "I wasn't planning to be a lawyer, I just wanted to get a better taste of what the law was." And it is perhaps that horizon-broadening approach to living that best describes a man who isn't much for talking about himself. He is the kind of guy who gives and gives to arts groups - "as much as I can afford" - but whose deeds to those groups may mean even more. He's the philanthropist who says, No, thank you: "Some of the best teachers I ever had anywhere, in school, college, graduate school, were in high school at Lanier. ... I owe a permanent thanks to them." Lane is the kind of man who runs for school board, as he first did in the mid-'70s, and then goes to schools and actually sits in on classes. The kind of fellow who, once voted school board president, goes back to high school at age 55 for a refresher course in algebra. The kind of guy who can preside over the Macon Symphony's board of directors and admit to giving up the violin at age 16 after hearing a recording of himself playing. "I'm not a performing artist. I don't play an instrument," he says. "I like to sing in a chorus, but I have no solo voice." The kind of guy, in fact, who figures he owes his life, at least part of it, to music. After a car wreck in the early '60s threw his brain for a loop and all but emptied his memory, it was his love of music that remained intact. "What made more difference than anything else was music and the associations I had with different pieces of music. Everything I listened to just brought back something with it," Lane says. "It was music I listened to, books I read, that brought back all sorts of things. ... It made me realize what a debt I owed to music." To contact Joe Kovac Jr., call 744-4397 or e-mail jkovac@macontel.com.