EVOLUTION, CREATIONISM
       AND MILFORD SCHOOLS


Students file past the 60' tall bronze statue on the old slag heap at the abandoned coal mines on Route 131 in Milford.  Many newcomers to Milford are unaware of the history and controversy surrounding this magnificent work of art.


Some, of course, think the statue is a commemoration of the great battle over the teaching of evolution in Milford Schools in 1913.  At the heart of the struggle was John "Scopes" Potemkin, biology teacher at Milford High School.  I'm sure many of you will immediately jump to the conclusion that this whole affair is related to the so called Scopes Monkey Trial in Dayton, Tennessee.  Nothing could be further from the truth.  For one thing, the Milford controversy and subsequent trial occurred almost a dozen years before the famous event in Tennessee.  For another factor, it is widely considered that Mr. Potemkin was a rather inept biologist at best and the nickname "Scopes" was derisively applied to him. 

This photo actually earned Mr. Potemkin the sarcastic nickname of Scopes.  It is a photo he took through his microscope and sent off to the National Science Foundation, claiming to have discovered a hard shelled "Super Paramecium type" creature among the usual amoebae and other micro organisms he was attempting to study. 

Even that wouldn't have been so bad had he not earlier "discovered" a super observant one-eyed micro organism and sent this picture to the Smithsonian Institute for verification.  Of course it  would later be established to be the reflection of his own eye and not a super strain of eye lashed amoebae. 

You can thus see that the stage was aptly set for what happened next.  The Milford Board Of Education was quite open minded and socially aware for that era.  (Milford had integrated schools well before many surrounding districts even recognized the responsibility.)  In the Fall of 1913 the board ordered all science teachers to incorporate the teaching of evolution in their classrooms.  Mr. Potemkin immediately saw a chance to redeem his reputation.  Surrounding himself with many local preachers and other religious extremists who'd never read a science book, Potemkin led a noisy protest.  Refusing to allow the mention of the word evolution in his classroom, he was eventually fired and sued the school board.  The subsequent Winter trial was dubbed "The Milford Monkey Trial," possibly as a comment about the courtroom antics of Mr. Potemkin and his fundamentalist supporters.  They constantly interrupted expert testimony about evolution by making chimpanzee sounds and leaping about the courtroom eating bananas and preening each other's scalps for lice.  The Potemkin group was represented by Robert "Boob" Daft who was not a lawyer but was a wannabe politician.  The school board chose to represented by the superintendent of schools.  The jury returned a verdict in favor of the school board and Potemkin's firing was upheld.  The entire episode was made into a movie script and filmed under the poorly chosen title "Break The Wind".  Spencer Potemkin wrote, directed and starred in the movie which has become a cult classic but otherwise quite unsuccessful at the box office.  Daft would continue in politics and would later serve as governor during a scandal ridden term.  Potemkin went on to become president of a local university where he would eventually fire all of the astronomy professors—calling them "the Devil's Minions" for suggesting the world was round.  He would also fire the successful basketball coach saying: "He's taunting me about the flat earth by continuing to use a round ball.  This university will reflect how I see the world no matter who get's hurt or how stupid I look."
 
 


Let's get back to the story of the statue.  Potemkin wanted to spend the left over money from his defense fund to memorialize the event and make one more jab at his former employers.  He wanted to have a statue created that would forever be an argument against evolution.  The drawing at the right is the original and depicts Potemkin examining an ancient skull.  Unfortunately he had more than a little trouble in communicating his desires to a local sculptor named Fitzhugh Potemkin (a distant cousin).  His casual phone comment  that "It's colder'n a big brass monkey" was unfortunately heard as "Fitz, order in a big brass monkey."  The result sits on Route 131.