Niota, Tennessee, a small town on Highway 11 in McMinn County, has come to national prominence twice in the past century. Most recently, it was during a time when all city government offices were held by women. The ladies were featured on GOOD MORNING AMERICA, and I still cringe to remember that during the entire interview, Charles Gibson consistently mispronounced Niota. For future reference, Charlie--and others who might not know--it's pronounced nigh-OH-dah, NOT knee-OTT-uh.

But I digress. In August 1920, a young man who was born, raised, and buried in Niota had a huge role in obtaining passage of the Nineteenth Amendment, which gave women the vote in the United States. And he did so thanks to the influence of his mother.

Harry T. Burn was born in 1895. He was first elected to the state General Assembly at the age of twenty-two. In 1920, during his first term, he became embroiled in a major national battle: to get the Nineteenth Amendment passed. The history of the long fight even to get this measure to that point--it was presented to the states for ratification by the 66th Congress of the United States on June 4th, 1919--has been told by better historians than me in other places. At the time there were forty-eight states in the Union, and ratification was required from thirty-six of the forty-eight for it to be added to the Constitution. Tennessee's General Assembly was one of four states given the opportunity to become that thirty-sixth state; three others refused to call a session of their legislatures to take up the question.

To put it bluntly, things did not look good for its success. It was a measure opposed not only by men but in large part by women as well; many opposed it on the grounds that A) women were silly creatures, apt to be swayed by emotion rather than reason, and therefore to cast their ballots for some totally unsuitable candidate; B) that many would cast their votes the way some man ordered them to; and C)--inevitably--racism raised its vile head; the law did not distinguish between white women and women of color, and many who might have been inclined to give the vote to white women would not extend the same privilege to women of color.

In Tennessee, in that hot summer of 1920, supporters of the amendment wore a yellow rose; opponents wore red ones. This was the second "war of the roses" in our state history; the first had been when the Taylor brothers, Robert and Alfred, had run against each other for governor in the 1880s, and their supporters wore different colors of roses.

Harry T. Burn was twenty-four that year, and he was staunchly opposed to giving women the vote, wearing his red rose proudly. On the day the vote came before the General Assembly, he planned to vote against the amendment.

And then he got a letter from his mother.

Phoebe Ensminger Burn was a widow, living at the time on Mouse Creek. (Everyone refers to her to this day as Miss Febb, which has given rise to a story that her Christian name was not Phoebe, but February). She was a strong supporter of the suffragist movement, and when she knew the vote was coming up she wrote her son a letter in which she said:

"Dear Son: Hurrah and vote for suffrage! Don't keep them in doubt! I notice some of the speeches against. They were bitter. I have been watching to see how you stood, but have not noticed anything yet. Don't forget to be a good boy and help Mrs. Catt put the "rat" in ratification. Your mother"

("Help Mrs. Catt put the 'rat' in ratification" referred to a cartoon featuring the great suffrage leader Carrie Chapman Catt, who was in Tennessee at the time, lobbying hard for passage.)

On August 18th, the day of the vote, there was a surprising tie: forty-eight votes for, forty-eight against. Harry Burn was the final vote, the one that would break the tie. He was wearing his red rose, and all confidently expected him to cast an opposing vote.

Instead, with his red rose on his lapel and his mother's letter in his hand, Harry Burn stood and cast his vote IN FAVOR of the Nineteenth Amendment.

He was chased out of the chamber by angry opponents, only escaping a thrashing by climbing out onto a window ledge and clambering to safety in the attic of the building. The next day, when things were a bit calmer, he made a speech to the assembly explaining why he had changed his vote.

"A good boy," he said, "always does what his mother asks him to do."

Harry T. Burn continued to serve in state government until his death in 1977. He's buried in a small graveyard right on Highway 11 in Niota, and there's a historical highway marker by the road there. Another marker, in Nashville, also commemorates that historic vote.

The votes of women, so the media tells us, will be a huge factor in this 2008 presidential election cycle. And we owe that privilege to a woman who raised her son to be a good boy.

So thank you, Miss Febb, for raising your son right, and thanks, Harry T. Burn, for minding your mother.

Happy Mother's Day to my beloved mom, and to all moms.