The Hat That Brought Lewis Cass Back From The Grave

I spotted the hat and was about to try it on, when a guy walked into the hat shop, pointed at the hat and said: "That hat was made for you."  I hadn't quite put the hat on, and a complete stranger had given me a compliment.

So, I bought it.  I was at "Hats, Hides, and Heirlooms" in Eureka Springs, Arkansas; I had always wanted a top hat.

However, a top hat is lonely by itself.  It wants a cloak and a cane. 

Google took me on a tour of Internet cloaks, which showed me that a cloak would be inappropriate since it seems to be for people who read fantasy novels. Google pointed out that the top hat really needs a cape.   I finally zeroed on a cape that came straight out of the 19th Century. 

I took a tour of Internet canes.  Google quickly pointed out that canes are for people who have trouble walking --- and that the top hat really needs is a walking stick.  I found a walking stick with an eagle on the knob.

I already had a vest and a bow tie in my wardrobe.  I was ready to morph.  But should I morph into a generic 19th Century gentleman or a specific 19th Century gentleman?

My problem was solved when my employer, Cass Information Systems, announced a Halloween costume contest. It was clear that the top hat, cape, and walking stick belonged to Lewis Cass, because Cass Information Systems bears his name.

Lewis Cass (1782-1866) had a long career of public service.  When I put on the top hat and cape, and grab the walking stick, I wonder how Lewis Cass from the 19th Century should introduce himself to people from the 20th Century.

Perhaps: “Hello, I am Lewis Cass, congressman from Ohio.”  Or “I am Lewis Cass, territorial governor of Michigan and also twice Senator from Michigan.”

Or “Brigadier General Lewis Cass”.

Or should I wait until I see a twenty-dollar bill, and tell people: “Hey, that's my friend Andy Jackson and I was his Secretary of War.”

Or maybe if I hear someone speaking French, I could introduce myself as Lewis Cass, the ambassador to France.

I decided to introduce myself dramatically: “I am Lewis Cass, and I have come back from the grave.”

Then people can ask me who I was, and I can talk about how I lost the Presidential election of 1848 to Zachary Taylor, blaming my loss, of course, on Martin Van Buren, who split our party and thereby handed the election to Zachary.

I can reveal how I could have prevented the Civil War when I was James’ Buchanan’s Secretary of State.  I told the President to reinforce Fort Sumter, and he refused; so, I resigned.

I always tell people how popular I was. Although I never lived in the state, Missouri named Cassville after me

And Missouri named Cass County after me.  

And St. Louis named Cass Avenue after me, and Cass Information Systems is named after Cass Avenue.

I had a great time telling people that I had come back from the grave, until someone did not ask me who I was.  She asked me what it was like being in the grave.

Uh oh. I was unprepared for that question.  I told her that cellphone reception is pretty poor in the grave, but I don’t think that was the answer she was looking for.

So, now, I am no longer sure how to introduce myself.  The top hat brought Lewis Cass back from the grave, but Lewis Cass does not want to talk about being in the grave.

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Since Lewis was a Would-Be President, he has caught the attention of the Worsh Ahts, Steve Lorobec's experimental post-punk indie music project in Pittsburgh.  Here is the Worsh Ahts 2-minute Lewis Cass Song!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HKvzjgyoEFo

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NOTE: Doug's best stories have been collected into a book: Puppy Out Of Breath.  Price = $11.  Send an email to ParadiseDouglas at gmail.com to find out how to purchase a copy by mail.