| By Tom Owen |
| The weather vane atop the Speed
Scientific Schools main building on Eastern Parkway gets lost on a busy Belknap
campus southern horizon dominated by the old WLOU radio transmission tower. On closer
examination, the topknot on James Breckenridge Speed Hall turns out to be a graphic
silhouette of a vibrant industrial skyline. The decorative weather vane has crowned that Georgian domed cupola since the buildings construction in 1940. The metal pattern against the sky consists of an impressive array of belching factory smokestacks, distilling towers, and electric power gridsa fervent pre-World War II hope for economic recovery. Today, though, this picture of big, polluting industry is out of sync with our high-tech, clean factory times. Jens Fredrick Larson, a well-known collegiate architect in New Hampshire, set the stage for several U of L buildings to be topped with weather vanes. His 1936 Belknap Campus Master Plan introduced an elaborate series of new buildings in Jeffersonian style that abounded in copper domes and cupolas with occasional vanes. Soon thereafter, U of L successfully rounded up federal funds through the Works Progress Administration and combined them with separate, private gifts to erect two new buildings. The stately, columned 1939 Law School, capped by a simple directional weather vane, was the first campus building to follow Larsons plan. Later that year, after generous gifts from Olive Speed Sackett and William S. Speed, children of James Breckenridge Speed, architect Larson was brought back to design the new Speed School building. Larsons sketch arrived in Louisville in mid-March but design discussions continued for months to come. In May 1940, William S. Speed, speaking for both himself and his sister, rejected the architects suggestion that the weather vane bear a family logo or similar historical image. Speed told University President Raymond A. Kent, "I think something simple, such as we have on the Law Building, is preferable to something elaborate." Records do not reveal how many attempts were made by Kent, the donors, and the architect to work out an acceptable design; perhaps other matters so dogged building planners that the issue was consigned largely to the back-burner. We do know that in early September, a full six months after discussions began, Larson sent President Kent what is at least the second weather vane sketch. Its possible that by this late hour the donor families were out of the loop and that the final result was dictated by the president. One repercussion from the decision to install a more elaborate weather vane surfaced at the November 20, 1940, meeting of the university committee charged with overseeing the buildings construction. The committee heard that Phillip Fink and Son, the lowest bidder on the copper roof and sheet metal work, had submitted an invoice for more money because of unexpected changes in the weather vane design. Seven months later, Dean Wilkinson took up the roofers cause with President Kent, noting that Fink had based a winning $9,284 bid on documents that called simply for "a weather vane." To the contractors astonishment, Wilkinson explained, the actual design he was later handed turned out to be more elaborate than he had ever imagined, forcing him to purchase it from an outside source for an additional $135. The Speed Schools novel weather vane survives today to tell its story of economic recovery through smokestack industrialization. We still do not know exactly how that busy silhouette came to crown the building or what happened to the Speed and Sackett request for "...something simple, such as we have on the Law Building." Dr. Tom Owen is a university archivist and community relations officer. |
