As McCallie continued to emerge from its military school past under first-year head of school Spencer McCallie III '55 in 1974, there were notable signs that the school was on an uptick. Enrollment was up 20 percent. Faculty hires were up 40 percent.
“We had everything we needed,” said Spencer III while cracking a smile, “Except money and land.”
Knowing its $300,000 endowment could not sustain it much longer, faculty member and alum Henry Henegar '57 suggested the school approach a development expert he knew in Memphis, one Mel Duley Cooper Jr.
Cooper was immediately intrigued, but he had a request, if not an outright demand, of Spencer III before he’d take the job.
“I need access to you,” Cooper said. “I need to be able to come by your office whenever I need you.”
Recalled Spencer III, again with a smile, “He showed up a lot. I ended up working for Mel Cooper for 25 years, and I think he had as much to do with the development of this school as any of the five McCallie (family) headmasters.”
That was just one of the stories told at a touching memorial service for Cooper inside McCallie’s Chapel on Saturday morning after he passed away on April 10 at the age of 85.
There were stories of his childhood in Memphis, working in the family’s integrated Electric Waffle Shop restaurant in the waning days of the Jim Crow South, and how he mastered his grandmother Verdie’s waffle recipe, which is included at the end of this story.
Recalling how that restaurant hired black and white cooks, bought produce from black and white farmers, had black and white waiters and served people of all races, Cooper’s widow, Eleanor, a cousin of Spence III’s, noted, “That restaurant was foundational to who Mel was.”
As was the realization by Cooper of how food and drink could bring people together, iron out differences, lift spirits and bring down barriers.
Not to mention attracting a wife.
“In 1981 I decided I wanted to work in development,” recalled Eleanor. “I got a meeting with Mel Cooper. We met for a long time. He then asked me, ‘Would you like to continue this conversation over dinner?’ We went to a Chinese restaurant.”
He soon asked her if he could cook her dinner one night. To her surprise, he then asked what she’d like to eat. She said lobster. When she arrived, he was boiling two lobsters, which he served with drawn butter and crusty bread.
“It was a wonderful meal,” she said.
But his culinary skills didn’t end there. On the first weekend they were married he cooked her breakfast. She thought, “I could get used to this.”
Of course, this also soon led to her being reminded of his matchless organizational skills.
“On that first Sunday night together, I came across him making a list,” she said. “He wanted to know what I wanted for dinner on Thursday night, and I thought, “I don’t even know if I’ll want to eat dinner on Thursday night.’ But that was Mel.”
Cooking waffles and pancakes also impressed the friends of their daughters, Mae and Katie, who often requested his breakfast talents when they would drop in for a sleepover.
His mastery of details and organization and making everyone feel a part of the process were legendary and can be seen throughout the Scenic City far beyond McCallie School. There were the neighborhood dinners and dessert gatherings the couple hosted with Franklin McCallie '58 for people of all races. There was the Ed Johnson Memorial project that Cooper lent his fundraising expertise to in order to properly honor Johnson, who had been lynched on the Walnut Street Bridge in 1906.
“We’re all fortunate Mel Cooper came our way,” said local civil rights activist and Ed Johnson Committee member Erik Atkins. “It started out as a $100,000 project and became a million-dollar project. We heard from people in Africa to the Netherlands about it. We could not have done it without Mel. He told me once, “This became a 16-hour-a-day job.” But he saw it through to the finish.”
Come the fall, another of his pet projects, the Houston Museum for Decorative Arts, will open as a fully restored museum near the Hunter Art Museum in the Bluff View Art District.
But as much as Cooper’s deft touch and bright mind have improved so much of Chattanooga over the past 52 years, his true masterpiece was McCallie and his work with Spencer III, where they quickly became the school’s ultimate Dynamic Duo.
“We were always on a five-year plan,” said McCallie III. “I’d ask, ‘Didn’t we just do that?’ He’d say, ‘That was four years ago.’ He always had everything planned out. Plane tickets. Who to see. I never made a cold call. By the time I sat down with a donor or alum they’d already been contacted by (Development staffers) Curtis (Baggett '65), Steve (Hearn '74) or Craig (Ingvalson '77).”
The money rolled in. Lots of it. Enough to build the Student Activities Center athletic complex and the dining hall. Enough to grow the endowment from that initial $300,000 in 1974 to over $150 million today. Maybe it was what Cooper learned in college at prestigious Columbia in New York City. Maybe it was his earlier work at Memphis University School. Maybe it was just his innate ability to see beyond the obvious, as when Cooper once told Spencer III, “Watch out for the articulate incompetent.”
But he had his guidelines and his rules and long before it was fashionable, he talked about school culture, about making sure we were practicing what we preached concerning Honor, Truth, Duty.
A glimpse into that uncommon wisdom: When the dining hall (Alumni Hall) was on the drawing board he made sure to talk to students about what they wanted to see in the new structure. Perhaps more importantly, he talked to the cafeteria workers to see what would make their jobs easier and more efficient. To encourage their feedback, he often told people, “There are no bad ideas.”
With all this as background, a group of independent school educators once told Spencer III, “You put us all to shame.”
Among numerous other awards, it also eventually earned Cooper the Council for Advancement and Support of Education’s (CASE) highest honor in 2000, the Robert Bell Crow Memorial Award.
But his ultimate compliment was actually paid to Spencer III during a conference with 85 independent heads of school in the 1990s.
While talking to a handful of administrators over a meal, Spencer III realized he’d gained a larger audience. Asking why they were so interested in what he was saying, several replied, “Because you’re a legend.”
Said Spencer III as he recalled that moment during the memorial service, delivering a wry observation as only Spencer III can, “What they really meant was that Mel Cooper was a legend. They just didn’t know it.”
Mel Cooper's Waffles & Pancakes Recipe
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