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Show Real Cave Man Thrills Omaha Hermit Who Had Never Heard of Radio, Motors or Airplanes. Omaha, Neb. Sixty minutes from the Stone age to the Jazz age. That Is the gap that separates the primitive world of Henry F. Morris, Nebraska cave man, from the complex world of modern, living, teeming Omaha. It Is the gap between the Twentieth century cen-tury and 10,000 years ago. A short one as minutes go, but Infinitely great when measured on the social scale. On the one hand the intellectual development of centuries ; on the other an atavistic reversion to the early, confused and muddled gropings of man as we find him at the dawn of history. Like a visitor from a strange planet, Morris, blinking as much as an owl when out of his element, ele-ment, recently came to Omaha after more than forty years away from civilization. civi-lization. Ills coming boldly proclaimed pro-claimed how easily can be lost the veneer of social amenities and graces that separate the gentleman of 1926 from his rude, uncultured forebear of the Neolithic age. Morris, who is now about seventy, was Induced to quit his wooded retreat re-treat at the solicitation of a newspaper news-paper man anxious to parade him from the headlines of his paper. He was first "discovered." several months ago after he had lived away from all contact con-tact with the world for more than four decades. He had never heard of the radio, electricity, the automobile, Blrplanes or any of the other modern devices. His Cave Is His World. His cave, also his world and empire, Is on the banks of the IMatte river, in the solitude of a wild, overgrown and desolate stretch of marshes and wasteland. The hermit of the Platte rarely encounters human beings. When he does they do not see him. His eyes are sharp; his step too light for that The hermit's visit to Omaha was his first trip to a city, for even before he quitted civilization he had spent his life in the backwood clearings. The visit was not without thrills, however, and he saw for the first time many of the wonders of the Twentieth century. When he heard the human voice over the radio, "the spirits!" he shrieked. When the lilting music commenced. Morris stood by In awe and wonderment. wonder-ment. The only music he had heard In forty years was that of the birds and the wind-blown trees. But while the hermit enjoyed Omaha, Omaha enjoyed still more the hermit. It is doubtful who was most struck by the peculiar mannerisms of the other Morris or his hosts. Everywhere Every-where the queer, strange individual went large crowds followed him. For the children he was a super-attraction, a colossal side show, and many a tired mother walked block upon block so Willie or Johnny might see the "funny man." Morris doesn't walk; he shuffles, and it has been years since he has straightened himself to the full length of his six feet two. He walks with a stoop, giving his massive, knotted shoulders a monstrous appearance, which is heightened by long and sinewy arms that dangle to his knees. Occasionally, to show his prowess, Morris, with the simplicity and naivete of a child, would chin himself him-self on awning bars, do a spread eagle or perform acrobatic antics that a man of thirty or forty cannot begin be-gin to attempt. Pop-eyed crowds watched him start to climb a light pole at Sixteenth and Farnam street. Omaha's busiest Intersection. The cave dweller's face is covered with a heavy beard that had been disturbed dis-turbed only occasionally in forty years by a crude, hand-made razor wielded by the hermit himself. Ragged Rag-ged and grimy, It added to his generally gen-erally unkempt appearance. Small piercing eyes that perpetually blinked In the strong sunlight were deep set beneath high obital ridges and peered through heavy, overhanging eyebrows. His crowning glory was his hair. Out of Place Among Guests. A tatterdemalion outfit was hung loosely about his gaunt figure. Resembling Re-sembling a scarecrow, Morris easily might have been mistaken for an automaton au-tomaton ; but never for the human being that he is. His complete outfit consisted solely of a pair of khaki trousers, of ancient vintage, and a shirt, patched beyong recognition. His trousers were supported by a rope tied about his waist ; his shirt was bared at the breast. Bareheaded, barefooted and barelegged bare-legged to the knees, Morris was strangely out of place as he mingled with the smartly dressed guests of the fashionable hotel where he was housed during the Omaha visit. Once upon a time, he confided, he was affluent, as affluence went in the backwoods country; but an unrequited unre-quited love affair, the ever-haunting vision of a faithless girl who had left him waiting at the altar drove him to renounce forever the superficialities of a world filled with heartaches. Morris will not discuss the "wimmen," and nervously shies away from them. Arriving in Omaha, Morris was taken to the F.ontenelle hotel, where luncheon with an actress was awaiting await-ing him. As the battery of cameramen camera-men began "shooting" flashlights, the hermit, pleading for his life, scampered scam-pered underneath an adjacent table. It was only after much coaxing, that he resumed his seat. A bewildering array ar-ray of knives, forks and spoons lay before him on the table. He picked them up and began distributing them at each place only to find an equal amount of silverware in front of each guest. He appeared much relieved when the dining ordeal was finished. Taken to the city hall he was Introduced In-troduced to Mayor James C. Dahl-man, Dahl-man, chief executive of Omaha for 21 years. Leaving the city hall, Morris complained of thirst. A teetotaler, he declined the Invitation of a reporter to have some beer, but expressed interest in-terest when told it was "bootlegged." and was surprised when told of prohibition. pro-hibition. He thought he said, the soft drink parlors he had seen were saloons. At the Omaha Field club, Morris Mor-ris sang a song for the caddies which he said he learned as a child. Translated Trans-lated from his provincial dialect into English, it went : "I am the son of a bankrupter, I suppose you heard of the news; My father failed in business, And I need a pair of shoe." Next he was taken to a natatorium where he enjoyed a plunge. Standing on the edge of the tank, the hermit became eager as he watched some high school students In bathing. With- i out preliminaries, he Jumped Into the j water, clothes and all. Saw the Movies Twice. After a return to his hotel, the her- ! mit was taken out to see Omaha by night The large electric signs excited ex-cited his curiosity to the breaking point In fascination, he stood beneath be-neath one of the more complex of them for more than fifteen minutes. Taken to a movie, the excited old fellow sat through two performances before he could be Induced to leave. He chuckled loudly at the antics of the comeSians, but all the time he kept mumbling that he "could not understand under-stand it" He asked why they didn't talk. i Morris' next serious encounter with civilization occurred when he was taken to his room to go to bed. He refused to take off his clothes. After more than an hour he asked a companion, com-panion, who had volunteered to stay with him. If he could sleep on the floor. Permission granted, Morris climbed out of bed and expressed satisfaction sat-isfaction as he lay on the hardwood floor. Morris does not miss contact with society and prefers to live In solitude. He often talks aloud or sings, he said, when he Is alone in the woods. He had little difficulty expressing himself him-self to his hosts. |
