John Lattimer: Master Collector
When it comes to a historical collection, John Lattimer had a doozy. A sword belonging to Ethan Allen. The bloody collar worn by Lincoln during his last moments. A portion of Napoleon’s, um, remains. Letters written by Lee Harvey Oswald. Nazi suicide paraphernalia.
Some of Lattimer’s collection was built by being in the right place at the right time. By trade, Lattimer was a urologist, but during World War II service as a medic he became an expert on gunshot wounds and battlefield surgery. Being in the right place at the right time, Lattimer was in Nuremberg after the end of the war, but in time for the Nazi war crimes trials. He was there, treating Nazis according to Geneva convention requirements, when Hermann Goering committed suicide rather than being executed. The ampule that contained the poison taken by Goering is in Lattimer’s collection. His mastery of ballistic wounds came to great use decades later, when he was asked to review the evidence in the John F Kennedy assassination. Lattimer’s collection grew with ephemera from the event, and he gained notoriety for announcing that Oswald was the only shooter, and fired the shots that killed Kennedy.
The
rest of his collection contained bits and pieces from the edges of history. Every article on Lattimer and his collection drops names: Lindbergh’s goggles. Custer’s coat. W.C. Fields’ hat (at right). According to a 1994 interview in the New York Times: “I have four degrees signed by Nicholas Murray Butler,” said Dr. Lattimer, referring to the late president of the university who became his patient. “I also have his prostate in a bottle.” Lattimer’s collection also included medieval weapons, armor, and relics from pre-American history. “Eclectic” is an excellent word for Lattimer’s collection, in the fine Victorian defintion, as a positive and honorable description of a fine collection of odds and ends.
Sadly, last year Lattimer passed away, but after reaching a respectable age of 92.
His collection, however, lives on and remains in his estate, in the care of his daughter Evan, seen at left. Lattimer, unfortunately, did not make preparations for his collection after his passing, as all good collectors should. Evan has been left with the task of deciding what should be kept, what should be thrown out, and what should go to museums. It’s a difficult task: her father kept poor records, and some possible tragedies have happened. She took some broken, nondescript chairs out to the curb. Too late she realized they may have come from Ford’s Theatre, where Lincoln was assassinated: a junk picker had already grabbed them from the yard. Lincolnania that was documented and saved will be auctioned off in November, but more than a year after Lattimer’s death, Evan is still trying to make headway. Lattimer’s drive to collect the things that interested him was a driving force in his life, and it’s too bad that the collection will suffer so in his death. Let’s hope Evan handles her father’s collection well, and his years of collecting and archiving will be one of his greater legacies.

