Evening star., 1960-08-08

armament, ne moved IN Ter
restrial orbit roughly bounded
by his home and his office.
Yet he never was at loss
for the subject of his next
column. His curious, restless
mind seemed radar equipped to
catch up ideas out Of the ether.
An incident on the bus. a line
in a newspaper, single word
dropped by a crony over coffee.
That's all Templeton Jones
needed for ammunition.
Once ensconced behind the
big desk. first rites came first.
Out from it's carefully locked
niche came the battered mill.
HE never left the room for a
minute without locking it up) :.
Then a look through the morn
ing mail-inquiries about that
mocking birds antics, what
one does for black widow spi-
der bite - why does a turtle
walk straight across a road?-.
and most of his correspondents
adding, because they felt it:
You, Mr.. Tracewell. have been
our favorite columnist for years
untold.
Pharmaceutical Buff
On the envelopes of some
letters he would scrawl notes
guides to future columns. Then
he would tuck them carefully
under the big desk blotter and
reach for the new issue of the
American Medical Association
Journal. One of his Unsuitable
interests was the world Of
pharmaceuticals. and he would
closely examine each ad an
nouneing a new product.
BY then an impromptu court
would have gathered, the cour-
tiers dropping by for the last
word on anything from the
man who seemed to know the,
most about everything.
In time. with perhaps only
one or two of the retainers re-
manning. Mr.. T. might abruptly
wheel in his swivel chair to
face the old faithful machine
that had stood by him so stead
faStly.
You couldn't say Mr.. T re-
turned the favor with any de-
gree of gentleness. He didn't
stroke the keys. He lashed out
at the typewriter as an old
enemy. firing words from it
like bullets in a machine-gun
clatter heard all over the Of
flee. You'd think his deadline
was 80 minutes away.
He wrote in fits and bursts,
pausing occasionally for a
breath of air. or to MUNICH a
candy bar, and in 80 minutes
a new This and That" had
been born to take its place
beside its thousands of priced
predecessors.
That was it, except for a
once-over reading. Maybe a
word or two changed, no more.
Never did he rewrite. and
never did his editor see fit to
alter a word. That was how
purely the language flowed. A
scrawling of his name across
the top in pencil, and the COL
umns number in which he took
so much pride, and it was
done.
This could have been the end
of q day for an average col
umnist. but average was not
in Templeton Jones makeup.
What next? A coffee break,
to be sure. Grumbling about
the quality Of the stuff as he
Swilled it.
II told the waitress it tastes
like kerosene" he quipped
"She replied, Sir, you must be
thinking of our tea. Our cof-
fee tastes like turpentine.'"
Then maybe across the
street to the park to stroke
a stray cat or to watch the
squirrels scamper. Then back
to the desk, for what? For g
bit more work-sometimes an
other column or two before
tucking away the old mill fol
the day.
This amazing productivity
never ceased. 1t got so he wa!
four or five weeks ahead oi
himself, but because the sub.
ject matter is timeless, the
more the merrier. His editor
would gather up a sheaf from
Charley's desk, shake his heat
in disbelief, and carry then
of to the printer.
- Charles official working da!
ended at noon or l o'clock. HI
liked to preserve the illusion N
was still at work by slipping
out unnoticed. AS though HI
hadn't already outstripped th'
average reporter twofold. Ac
tually, Charles day WASH
over at all, for there was still
that bus ride home, and wh'
knows how many columns on
might pick up on a bus?
His other life was 123 Quinc!
street, Chevy Chase, Md, will
his wife, Cuba. more devote'
to Templeton Jones than an
fan, and their large aSSortmen
of cats-as many as eight whel
strays insisted on a home.
Came Here as Child
This was in later years
Earlier there was the youn
Charlie Tracewell, arriving il
Washington at the age OF
with his parents and eide
brothers from Corydon, Ind
where Charles mother also wa
born. Charlie never forgo
Corydon, often reminding scof
fers it was Indiana's flrs
capitol. He let few days pas
without some whimsical thrus
at his Hoosier heritage.
Judge Robert j. TraceWel