Rock Star of Science Draws Overflow Crowd for Kingsport Library Talk

Make no mistake, Dr. Bill Bass is a rock star.

Never mind that he retired in 1993. He’s a world-renowned forensic scientist who founded the University of Tennessee’s Anthropology Research Facility, also known as the Body Farm. And on Thursday throngs of people flocked to the Kingsport Public Library to hear him speak.

He came as part of the Friends of the Library’s annual meeting, but before 6 p.m. the library’s Mead Auditorium was filled to capacity and some people were grumbling over being turned away. One young woman was particularly insistent – no fire marshal was on site, she said, so couldn’t she please squeeze in? The pleas fell on deaf ears. They follow the rules at the Kingsport Public Library, mind you.

Unable to hear his presentation, persistent fans did not want to leave empty-handed. Will he sign books after he speaks? How about signing a few right now? Dr. Bass was happy to oblige. A dejected mass quickly lined up to meet the man who created the world’s first laboratory devoted to human decomposition.

My daughter was among the dejected – she had come 60 miles to hear Bass speak. She is fascinated by forensics – how a shard of glass, or carpet fiber, or human hair, or piece of bone – can give scientists information they need to solve a crime. And for almost two years, forensics has been her career goal and her aim is to get to UT to study it.

She was buoyed by the chance to get one of Bass’ books and to have him sign it. She chose “Death’s Acre: Inside the Legendary Forensic Lab, the Body Farm, Where the Dead Do Tell Tales.”

Its foreword is by author Patricia Cornwell, who made the center famous in her 1994 Kay Scarpetta novel “The Body Farm.” That novel reached The New York Times best seller list and launched international interest in the site at the University of Tennessee.

As we stood in line, sweating, I wondered if Dr. Bass would tell us some witty, macabre tidbit about sweat and decomposition. I simultaneously feared he would get whisked away to speak before signing my daughter’s book because we were fast approaching the start time for his remarks. Neither happened. He was friendly and kind, quickly autographing a book for a forensics fan born the year after he retired.

Later that night, I told my daughter that she had once seen Patricia Cornwell, also, but she could be forgiven for not remembering it. Cornwell was a speaker at a Virginia Press Association conference at the Wintergreen resort in 1995, when my daughter was barely 6 months old. I remember pushing her stroller in the back of the room and, later, beating a hasty retreat when she woke up and began crying lustily. I will never forget that Cornwell herself noticed. You can’t really die of embarrassment, but it can feel like it in the moment.

We didn’t have any dramatic moments like that on Thursday, thank goodness. Attribute that to the fact that my daughter largely ignored her brother’s wisecracks as we stood in line.

While it was disappointing to be in the overflow crowd and miss Dr. Bass’ remarks, the Mead Auditorium can only accommodate so many bodies. I was thrilled to see such interest in forensics, anthropology and learning. Several people commented that Bass could have easily filled a much-larger venue. Perhaps he will be invited to such a spot soon.

As for my daughter, her desire to reach a goal was nurtured by the experience at the library and a tangible reminder was carried out under her arm. It was its own reward to see her eagerly reading as soon as she could crack the book.

Suzanne Tate is the opinion page editor at the Bristol Herald Courier and you may reach her at or (276) 645-2534.