Family Trees

by

Morton Murray Woolley, M. D.

Rancho Mirage, California, August 2004

Purposefully this document is of limited scope. Rather than an extensive review of the family genealogy, I have chosen people and events, which have influenced members of our family in a significant way. Perhaps you will recognize an event and/or person, which has been influential in your choice of profession, values, life style or attitude. The genealogy is derived from documents which I have collected over a number years.  It is limited. Perhaps you have information, which you can and will add to make it more expansive. If you do, please email me at mortwoolley@dc.rr.com.

 Jane has just finished writing her family history, edited primarily for our children and grandchildren. I shall follow her format for my summary.

 My maternal grandparents family names were MURRAY and HERNDON. Of course, my paternal grandfather  was a WOOLLEY.  His wife, my grandmother was born a BOOTH and was adopted by a BAIRD family so in various records is referred to as MARY VIRGINIA BOOTH OR MARY VIRGINIA BAIRD..

My mother, who possessed strong opinions emphasized that the best in our genetic heritage was derived from the MURRAY ancestry. Some of the reasons for this strong opinion shall become apparent in subsequent pages. Because of her unusual influence on our family, I shall start with the MURRAY genealogy. It is only fair to note that she outlived my father by 45 years so had more time to influence family matters. Notice the recurrence of names, which appear in sequential generations in each of the families.

MURRAY

ALEXANDER MURRAY, SR. was born in Glasgow, Scotland, on January 29, 1734. He was a sea captain. He married BETTY CLAY on January 30, 1772. They emigrated from Scotland to Nova Scotia (New Scotland) during the “religious war”. (Which war I do not know.) Their fifth child, and only boy, ALEXANDER MURRAY, was born in prison on September 9, 1786. The reason for his mother’s incarceration is unclear. It may have been due to some Scottish sympathy with the crown during the revolution. He was a mechanic and married RHODA MELTON on February 14, 1806. They moved to Oglethorpe County Georgia in 1816 and to Henry County Georgia in 1820. He died on October 10, 1876. They produced five girls and two sons. One son was ALEXANDER GREEN MURRAY. He was born on March 14, 1808 in Richmond Virginia. He married MARTHA WEEMS on January 30, 1838. He was a publisher, lawyer and judge. He moved to Griffin, Georgia in 1845, where he persuaded Sherman to spare Griffin. Sherman burned only the depot in Griffin. He died in Griffin on June 19, 1886.   Their first daughter was MARY BEATRICE MURRAY (not my mother, she comes later). Their last son, my grandfather, SAMUEL WEEMS MURRAY, was born  on October 4, 1853  in Griffin, Georgia and died February 7, 1908 in Newnan, Georgia. (16 years before I was born) He met ZEBULINE MONTGOMERY PIKE HERNDON, my grandmother, in Griffin where she was attending school. He borrowed $100.00 for the trip to Calvert, Texas, where they were married on February 16, 1876. She was born in Fredericksburg, Virginia on February 16, 1856 and died in Denver Colorado on August 28, 1946.  Although she was born in Virginia, her parents moved to Texas where both of them died. She and her husband SAMUEL WEEMS MURRAY lived in Georgia. They parented 10 children:

1. ALEXANDER GRANTLAND MURRAY was born in Griffin ,Georgia February 22, 1877. His wife was EUNICE DAVIES. He was a college professor at Emory University where he picked out my father to be my mother’s husband. Later in life, he moved to Virginia. He was a chemical consultant for the federal government. (Family called him “GRANTLAND”) They had four children: The first child died at a young age and I do not have a name. The other three children are: LOUISE, DAVID, AND HERNDON PAUL MURRAY. Recently I was able to find Herndon paul murray. He lives in Arlington Virginia and is 90 years of age.

 2. HORACE HERNDON MURRAY was born on May 20, 1879 in Dahlonega, Georgia. He died in 1955 in Newnan, Georgia. He married JENNIE WOOD QUIN in Washington, Wilkes County, Georgia, on April 22 1903. I remember Aunt Jennie as a warm, hospitable well-groomed lady. They had four children: SAMUEL DUBOSE MURRAY, ELIZABETH MURRAY (“T”), HUGH MURRAY (“FID”), and DOROTHY MURRAY (“DOSH”). He ran the printing press and other businesses started by his father in Newnan, Georgia. He is the only sibling who stayed in Newnan. (Family called him “Herndon”) *note attached appendage describing some of his childhood experiences and his experience during the Spanish American War. In about 1899, one of Asa Candler’s four sons became interested in my mother who was an attractive teenager. Asa Candler started the Coca Cola Company in 1886.  To gain access to the house and to meet MARY BEATRICE MURRAY, the Candler boy offered Herndon 2 shares of Coca Cola stock. He agreed to the offer and introduced him to my mother. My mother said that she did not like him because he was an atheist. This is interesting because Asa, his father was a very religious Methodist and supported the church personally and financially. HERNDON was interested in a couple of ducks, which were for sale so he traded the two shares of Coca Cola stock for the two ducks. This deal did not work out well either for Herndon or my mother. The Coca Cola Company became the largest corporation in the world. We could have been quite well off if Herndon had kept the stock or if my mother had found the Candler boy attractive.  

3. SAMUEL MORTON MURRAY was born on January 23 1882, in Newnan Georgia, and died on August 24, 1915 in Ashville, South Carolina. He died of tuberculosis at the age of 33. He was my namesake. (Family called him “MOTE” and all of the Murrays called me “MOTEN”) 

4. MARY BEATRICE MURRAY was born in Newnan, Georgia August 2, 1884 and died in Loma Linda, California on May 25, 1978 (she was my mother). Since she was the oldest girl in the family her siblings called her “sister”. She insisted that her grandchildren call her “DEAREST”, never grandmother or any variation thereof. 

5. HENRY MINOR MURRAY was born in Newnan, Georgia on December 31 1886. He never married and eventually became a post office superintendent in Arizona.  He died of cancer of the stomach in Denver, Colorado in 1948. (Family called him “CAP”. See reference to his early years in Newnan in Herndon’s memories) 

6. ANNA HERNDON MURRAY was born in Newnan October 14 1889 and died in Denver, Colorado on September 17, 1985. Her given name was ANNIE PANNILL. (The family members including her daughter called her “TETA”) She married Byrd Baxter Tompkins on October 1, 1913 in Newnan. One child, Mary Ann, was born August 24, 1914 in Newnan. Until I was able to locate herndon paul murray, Mary Ann (Morrison) was the only living first cousin on the Murray side of the family that I could locate. She will be ninety in August, 2004.  She has provided me with helpful family events and experiences. She has informed me that BRER and LA BLANCHE had two daughters, JULE and MELINDA, however neither of us knows where they live or whether they are alive.   

7. RUTH HERNDON MURRAY was born in Newnan on April 11, 1892 and died in Houston, Texas may 12, 1969, after an open-heart operation performed by Denton Cooley.   (Family called her “OOSIE” or “RUFINS”; she was not given a middle name so gave herself the middle name of Herndon). She married Albert Henry Lichty on June 4, 1924 in Denver. He died in Houston on December 23, 1967. They had one child, ALBERT HENRY LICHTY. JR.  Their granddaughter, Linda, sent me the following document, which had been typed by Ruth, date unknown: “Newnan cotton mills---Mt. Vernon mills.  The Newnan cotton mills were built in Newnan, Georgia, the date I do not know but it could have been in the late 1880’s. My father, Samuel Weems Murray was one of the board members and attended the board meetings. At first the other board members did not show up so they started giving each member a silver dollar and that way had a full board each time. My father had been a faithful member. At the time, he had a bookstore with no clerk, so I, a little girl would relieve him while he went to the meeting. I could sell pencils and tablets and schoolbooks and make change. If I couldn’t locate what the customer wanted, I told them to come back in an hour and my father would be there. The mills were very prosperous. They used much child labor and one of the things that impressed me was that the children went to work early-dark-and worked till dark-12 hours only had Sunday off.  No compulsory school and no child labor laws then.  They lived in houses all built alike. Of course things had changed considerably…..I heard my brother say once that the cotton mills had made the people of Newnan rich. When my father died, the lawyer took most of the cotton mill stock in lieu of money. He was smart but unscrupulous and my mother inexperienced. That was in 1906. At any rate, we inherited a few stocks of Newnan cotton mills. In the last few years, since nylon and rayon invaded the textile industry it was thought wise to merge with Mt. Vernon mills. So the name was changed too. It is all I had left of my father’s estate-except the cotton warehouse, which was bought by the heirs of my brother, Herndon. As I remember, my share was around $4000.  I bought Dow Chemical, Great Western Sugar and Ideal Cement. Later I sold Dow Chemical and Great Western and bought the Buick. The Ideal Cement and Mt.Vernon were signed over to Henry.  (signed) Ruth Lichty” 

8. LEWIS MELTON MURRAY   was born in Newnan on February 5, 1895, and died on October 1, 1988 in Silver City, New Mexico. He was buried in Santa Fe, New Mexico National Cemetery.  He was a Christian missionary in Mexico, never married. (Family called him “MELTON”) In 1948, when I was a medical student, I spent a month in Mexico studying tropical diseases. I visited Uncle Melton and ate with him and his fellow Christians. He was a very kind and sweet person. 

9. ZEBULINE MURRAY was born in Newnan Georgia October 1 1897 and died in Grand Junction, Colorado on June 3 1984.  Her given name RACHEL. Her older brothers changed her name to ZEBULINE. Uncle Cap always called her Rachel. Her mother called her “BABY” or RACHEL, never ZEBULINE. I had been unaware of her name being Rachel until I found her name in some old documents and received information from Mary Ann Thompkins Morrison. Zeb lied about her age to get into the army in World War II. She was an army nurse in New Guinea during the war. (Family called her “JAY” or “ZEB”). She had a brief marriage to Paul Miles   . No children 

10. HENRY CLAY MURRAY   was born in Newnan on December 11, 1900 and  died on April 29 1980 in Charlottesville Virginia. He married LABLANCHE CORBITT on September 2, 1932 in Augusta Georgia. Given name was EMORY CLAY MURRAY.  He was a jeweler. (Family called him “BRER”). He did not like the name “EMORY” so changed his first name to “HENRY" because of his affection for UNCLE CAP whose first name was “HENRY”.  They had two children, Jule who was born in Augusta, Georgia on November 15. 1934 and Melinda who was born in Charlottesville, Virginia on February 29, 1940. At his funeral, ALBERT HENRY LICHTY, JR. (“BILL HENRY”) made the following comments: “he had the mind of an inventor, and out of his fertile mind evolved invention after invention for antique jewelry and lamp restoration, tool and dye making, watch and clock repair and engraving. His inventive mind also extended into his personal life. He even invented his first name. He was given the name of “Emory”, which he did not like so he returned it for “Henry”, after his brother whom he adored. When he was a child, Dr. Davis, the family physician, arrived with all of his instruments to remove his tonsils. When he saw the instruments laid out, he decided this was not for him so he climbed under the house in a limited space so no one could get to him. There he waited until the doctor left. After his daughters were born, he invented bedtime stories, which they loved. His imaginary characters included Queen Finestra, Lespedeza, and Arthritis. Melinda was in the 5^th grade before she realized that arthritis was not a fairy. Then there was Chief Dirty Neck and Queen Hitchwiddarock (hitch-ya-wid-a rock).  They, along with Hiawatha, Pocahontas, Stuffy-tummy and Save-a nickel served for long fascinating stories for the children. Many of us knew this kind, unassuming man as “BRER”. We have his niece, MARY VIRGINIA WOOLLEY HARDING to thank for that name, a shortened southern name for “brother”.

OF Interest:   It should be self evident that the Murrays had an overriding tendency to have their names changed by their siblings or by their own wishes. Also they had at least one family initiated or self-generated nickname. When George and Mary Virginia Harding started their family  of five siblings the Woolley-Murray consortium started picking nicknames. To their amazement GEORGE III handed down an executive dictum that their given names were to be used without exception. No nicknames under any circumstances. No one dared to question his wisdom so you have George, Herndon, ann, warren and richard.  Perhaps it should be no surprise that he could never bring himself to say “teta”. He would mumble something or use sign language when addressing her.  If there is a sequel to this tome perhaps the author will not have to labor with nicknames!!!!!!!!

HERNDON

WILLIAM HERNDON (1649-1722) emigrated from New Kent England in 1674 to New Kent County Virginia. He married CATHERINE DIGGS in 1677. Their son, EDWARD HERNDON was born in 1678 and died in 1743. He married MARY WALLER in 1698. She died on October 22, 1756 in Spotsylvania County, Virginia. One of their sons, JOSEPH HERNDON was born on June 1, 1737 and  died on October 28, 1810. His first wife was PHILADELPHIA FOSTER. His second wife was MARY MINOR.   EDWARD HERNDON was born to his first wife, PHILADELPHIA FOSTER, on January 15, 1761 and died October 17, 1837. He married M. MAURY WHITELY on November 16, 1780 in Spotsylvania Virginia. Their son, JACOB WHITELY HERNDON was born on June 9, 1784 and died on June 18, 1848. He served in the military during the war of 1812. He married M. MARY PANNILL on October 14, 1807 at “Hazel Hill” Spotsylvania, Virginia. They produced 11 children one of whom was JOHN PANNILL HERNDON.   He was born on January 16, 1828. He died in 1884 in Snyder Texas.  On March 25, 1851, he married ANN ELIZA ANDERSON born June 22, 1832 in Virginia and died March 28, 1889 in El Paso Texas. One of their children was ZEBULINE MONTGOMERY PIKE HERNDON, my grandmother. She was born on February 16, 1856 in Fredericksburg, Virginia and died in Denver, Colorado on August 28, 1946. She was named for her maternal uncle whose name was ZEBULON MONTGOMERY PIKE (ANDERSON). He was killed by an accidental self-inflicted gunshot wound just before her birth. He received this name because her father, JOHN PANNILL HERNDON, was a war comrade of Zebulon Montgomery Pike for whom Pike’s Peak was named. Zebulon is alleged to be the masculine and Zebuline the feminine form of the name. She married SAMUEL WEEMS MURRAY, my grandfather, February 16, 1876 in Calvert, Texas. They spent most of their life in Newnan, Georgia and had 10 children. (Listed under “Murray” above) 

OF INTEREST:    Several members of our family have wondered about the relationship of our grandmother Murray to Captain William Lewis Herndon.  As noted above,  joseph herndon’s first wife was philadelphia foster who had three children before she died at the age of 28. He then married Mary MInor whose ninth child was dabney herndon.  He was born in Fredericksburg, Virginia on April 14. 1783 and died on December 20, 1824 in Fredericksburg. He married elizabeth hull on November 17, 1806 in Fredericksburg. Their fifth child was WILLIAM Lewis Herndon. In 1851-52 he explored the Amazon Basin and wrote a book about his experiences. In 1857 he went down with the SS Central America in a hurricane between Cuba and the Carolina coast. The ship was loaded with gold from California as well as crew and personnel. He rescued all of the children and women and some of the men. He went down with the ship. For his valor a monument exists on the Naval academy campus at Annapolis. Note that my grandmother Murray was born one year after his death at the age of 44. Their common ancestor was joseph Herndon.

WOOLLEY

REASON WOOLLEY AKA REZIN WOOLLEY lived in Newberry District, X. South Carolina in 1800 (census) where he died in 1809. He and his wife ELIZABETH BATES WOOLLEY lived in Edgefield District, S. C. Their son was ANDREW WOOLLEY, born February 14, 1801, died February 1, 1870.  He is buried in Heard Cemetery in Perry County Alabama. His son was ALBERT SPANN Woolley, who was born on November 5, 1830 in Chilton County, Alabama. He was graduated from the Philadelphia Medical College in 1851, one hundred years before I was graduated from the Loma Linda University School of Medicine. He married SARAH ANN FRANCES GRIFFIN on April 24, 1855 in Perry County, Alabama. He practiced medicine in Southern Alabama until   “he retired from the onerous duties of professional life”. He opened a retail store in Selma and later in Maplesville, Alabama. In 1889 at the age of 69, he moved to Birmingham where he again practiced his medical specialty of treatment for the “morphine and whiskey habit”. He died of pneumonia on January 12, 1902 and is buried in Birmingham.   The first son of ALBERT and SARAH WOOLLEY was ANDREW CRITTENDEN WOOLLEY, my grandfather. He married MARY VIRGINIA BOOTH on October 19, 1881 in Selma Alabama. Their first son was ANDREW PRICE WOOLLEY, my father. He was born on July 27, 1883 in Selma Alabama. He married my mother MARY BEATRICE MURRAY in Newnan Georgia on December 12, 1905. He died in Denver, Colorado on February 10, 1933 when I was 8 years of age.

They had four children:

1.      MARY VIRGINIA born on October 30, 1906 in Atlanta, Georgia and died on July 28, 1980 in Worthington, Ohio, from adenocarcinoma (cancer) of the colon. Her first symptoms were on April 21, 1980, in Montgomery Alabama. She, Andy, and I along with some other family members were visiting some of the Woolley homes. It was hot and she did not feel well. While the rest of us looked at the Confederate Capital, she sat on a wall to rest. After their return to Worthington, she was diagnosed with partially obstructing carcinoma of the sigmoid colon. She had a sigmoidectomy performed by Dr. Robert Zollinger at the Ohio State University Hospital on May 23, 1980. She had extensive liver metastases from which she expired on July 28, 1980. She is buried in Marion, Ohio.

2.      ANNE HERNDON born December 19, 1913 in Atlanta Georgia, died April 6, 1918 in Atlanta death probably due to measles pneumonia (this childhood death was a key turning point in our family history) She was buried in Atlanta.

3.      ANDREW PRICE, Jr. was born on December 17, 1915 in Atlanta, Georgia, and died on March 14, 1981 in Birmingham Alabama. Cause of death was sepsis secondary to a lengthy illness from adenocarcinoma of the colon. He underwent the following operations: 1. Right hemi-colectomy, October 4 1976.  2.  Left hemi-colectomy, August 3, 1977.  3.  Ileostomy for small bowel obstruction, August 12, 1977.  4. Closure of ileostomy, April 12, 1978. I observed one small malignant focus at this operation.  5.  Drainage of abdominal abscess at Ohio State University Hospital, May 24, 1978. (Our mother died on May 25, 1978). 6.  Ileostomy for small bowel obstruction due to malignant invasion, January 29, 1981. 7. Drainage of left flank abscess, March 7, 1981. Died of sepsis on March 14, 1981. He is buried in Birmingham, Alabama.

4.      MORTON MURRAY born September 17, 1924. Currently lives in Rancho Mirage California with wife of 49 years,  EMMA JANE GRIFFITH WOOLLEY.

BAIRD-BOOTH

I have the least amount of information about the baird-booth family. My mother left a family Bible, which was the property of JAMES W. BAIRD dated “Demopolis Alabama, February 17, 1859”. In that Bible is the following information; PETER BAIRD married ELIZA M. BINGHAM January 17, 1817 in Prince George County, Virginia. Their daughter, MARY BAIRD married JAMES WATSON on October 27, 1836 in Prince George Virginia. Their son ALEXANDER BAIRD married REBECCA ANN BOOTH on December 5, 1869 in Surrey County. JAMES W. BAIRD was born in 1829 and died in 1894. He married VIRGINIA BOOTH on June 22, 1852 in Marengo (?) Alabama. ANDREW CRITTENDEN WOOLLEY married MARY VIRGINIA BOOTH on October 19, 1881 in Selma Alabama. James. W. and VIRGINIA (BOOTH) BAIRD, adopted her, which appears to be the reason for her name change from booth to Baird. The nature of her relationship to virginia booth-baird is unclear. In various documents ANDREW CRITTENDEN WOOLLEY’S wife is referred to as MARY VIRGINIA BOOTH or MARY VIRGINIA BAIRD. She was my grandmother whom I never met. It was my understanding that her name was BAIRD.  My father had a watch fob with the name “BAIRD” on it.

 the following information was typed by my sister, mary virginia woolley harding:

“My father was Andrew Price Woolley, evidently named for his father’s (Andrew Crittenden) brother Andrew Price Woolley, son of Andrew 1801-1870. My father’s mother was Virginia Baird, whom I am named for, my name Mary Virginia, is a combination of my mothers name Mary Beatrice Murray and my Grandmother Woolley.

 I remember my Grandfather and Grandmother well. My father was like his Mother, tall, thin with a love for doing things nicely. I remember my Grandmothers dinners, her delicious Charlotte Russe, which my mother felt she could never duplicate. She was a gracious person.

 My Grandfather was a very strict stern man. He was short and wore his hair in a crew cut. My grandmother called him Cris.

 My father was born in Selma Alabama July 27, 1883. His family moved to Atlanta when he was 9 years of age. He loved his grandparents very much, sleeping in their room on a trundle bed. On moving to Atlanta my father became ill with homesickness for his grandparents so the parents sent him back to Selma to stay with them for a while.

 The family lived on Merrits Avenue and my father attended Ivy Street School and Boys High School. Then he went to Oxford, Georgia to Emory University, graduating in 1904. The families were Methodists and belonged to the First Methodist Church on Peachtree Street.

 I remember the big old house, which was my fathers home. It was on the corner of Merrits Avenue and Coutlord Street. There was a porch on the front and side of the house up and down; nearest the streets.  

In 1917 my grandfather tore down the big house and used the lumber in building two houses in the new subdivision Ansley Park in North Atlanta. 89 and 85 East Park Lane. They were the latest California style bungalows, all on one floor, they had large lots, servant houses, chicken houses, tennis courts, etc. My parents sold their house on 263 Jackson Street and bought the second house from my fathers parents so we lived next to the Woolleys until 1925.”

 (Although there are a few discrepancies from other information in this typed page, I thought the description of the Woolley grandparents and description of our father’s move to Atlanta interesting. There is no date on the document so I do not know when or why she typed the page)

MY MEMORIES

Although I was born at 76 Maddox Drive in Ansley Park, Atlanta, Georgia my earliest personal memories start when my brother, Andy, my father and mother and I lived on a farm in the country near Atlanta. These memories start when I was 3 or 4 years of age. We lived in a wooden unpainted farmhouse with a small front porch, an outhouse, and a well for water, no electricity and no gas. All of the heat in the house came from a kitchen stove, stoked with pinewood cut from the close-by pine forest. Kerosene lamps with adjustable wicks provided the light. The outside doors were locked with a 2x4 wedged into a wooded slot on the wall and on the back of the door. We owned two goats, “Daisy and Sweetie”. We owned one horse, and a number of chickens. I was frightened of Daisy and Sweetie because they would attempt to butt me whenever I was close to them. Their horns were about the same height as my head. My father owned a feed and grain warehouse on Spring Street in Atlanta. It no longer exists but was about a mile from the convention center and large hotels in what is now downtown Atlanta. Why were we on a farm? This was my mother’s idea of the ideal place for her family, derived from the following experience before I was born.

My sister, Anne Herndon Woolley, died on April 6, 1918 at the age of 4 ½ years. She had measles and I suspect that she died from measles pneumonia, a highly lethal disease. This was during the influenza epidemic, which killed a large number of people and possibly had something to do with her death. The family was living at 85 East Park Lane in Atlanta. The McClatchy family lived in the same neighborhood. They lost a child of similar age within one month of “Baby Anna’s” death. Anne’s death changed the subsequent history of our family. Until my mother’s death at the age of 94 “Baby Anna’s” death was the most important and influential event in her life. Because of my professional career where I observed the disruption of families after the death of a child, I can better understand the effect of Anne’s death on my mother. Her life was decimated by Anne’s death. At the time of Anne’s death, my mother and father attended a Methodist church. Thinking that it would be reassuring to my mother, her Methodist friends told her that Anne was in heaven being cared for by loving angels. Her reply was the she did not want the angels caring for her baby. She wanted to be caring for her. My father bought six gravesites in Westview Cemetery in Atlanta. Anne was buried in one of those graves. After my mother’s death we buried her next to baby Anna as she requested. Andy told me that after Anne’s death our mother would sit at the graveside for hours just to be near her. During her time of grieving, a Seventh Day Adventist evangelist, Carlyle B. Haynes, was giving lectures in a theater in Atlanta. The lectures were in the evening. Initially, my father attended a few of the lectures. He came home with rave reports that this preacher knew everything about the Bible and the world and prophecy. My mother said she did not believe this to be true so my father suggested that they alternate evenings caring for the children and going to the lectures. It so happened that one night when my mother was attending the lecture, Elder Haynes gave a lecture on “The State of The Dead” and the subsequent resurrection. He quoted Ecclesiastes 9:5 “for the living know that they shall die but the dead know not anything” he then went on to explain the eventual resurrection and the family reunions at that time. Immediately, my mother grasped this hope of seeing her daughter in the resurrection and never let go of it until her death. This was all that my mother needed to hear, that the dead are not alive in heaven but are asleep until the resurrection. She would then be reunited with her child. She quickly encompassed all of the Adventist theology and was baptized into the Seventh Day Adventist Church family. The Woolley family was not pleased with her decision and in fact questioned her sanity. In an attempt to bring her to her senses my father took my three-year-old brother, “Junior” somewhere without informing my mother. This was very frightening to my mother. My grandfather Woolley had built two homes on East Park Lane in Atlanta. My parents lived at 85 and the Woolley grandparents lived at 89 East Park Lane. My mother was of the opinion that the Woolley family knew where Junior and his father were and did not reassure her. This strained her relationship to the Woolley family. I did not understand this until later in life. I attempted to keep in contact with Uncle Albert Woolley and attended his funeral in California. My mother did not object but was not interested in my activities with the Woolley relatives. Because of the tension in the Woolley family, my mother felt that it would be in the best interest of the family for her to take Andy and Mary Virginia to Denver for a while. They lived with my grandmother Murray at 1935 west 39^th Avenue for approximately one year from June 1919. Andy was 4 and Mary Virginia 13. I was told that Andy kept the family and friends amused by spraying any sidewalk pedestrians with the hose. In contrast to his liberal use of water on those who happened by, he had no interest in being bathed. When he was eventually bathed, he had to be soaked for a long time to disengage the collected dirt, particularly in and around his ears. During my professional career, I learned that the death of a child frequently results in separation or divorce in the family. In some reports, the frequency is as high as 50-90% divorce. Why my parents were reunited is unclear, but my father’s attitude must have been key to the reconciliation. He was a committed Christian, a devoted father and a loving husband. I have a number of letters, which my father wrote to my mother during their period of physical separation. His concern for the children and his love for my mother is a constant theme. At no time was he critical of her. He always looked forward to the day when she would return to Atlanta. One of the letters ends with; “but I’m loving you a whole lot tonight, Mary, and long for you to take care of me and let me take care of you. Good night for this time, with all my love, devotedly, Price.” He sometime alluded to a check being enclosed and if she needed more money to let him know. Once he expressed concern for Andy when he had a cold. I have never seen the letters from Denver to Atlanta and assume that they have been destroyed. To my knowledge, neither my mother nor father had any extramarital contact during this physical separation. My mother, Andy and Mary Virginia returned to Atlanta in May or June 1920. There was no subsequent separation. I was born four years later. It is the exception, not the rule for spouses to reunite after separation associated with the death of a child. Mary Virginia was sent to school in Tacoma Park, Maryland to “Washington Missionary College” which is now “Columbia Union College”. There she met George Tryon Harding III. His uncle, Warren Gamaliel Harding, was president of the United States and gave the graduation address at his commencement from Washington Missionary College. George Tryon Harding, III then went to the “College of Medical Evangelists” now “Loma Linda University” in Loma Linda, California, to study medicine. Mary Virginia studied dietetics at the same school. After they finished their schooling in California, they returned to Worthington Ohio, which was the home of the Harding’s. They were married on June 2, 1927 in the big brick Harding home on East Granville Road. I was 2 3/4 years old and was the trainbearer of my sister’s white wedding dress. I thought it was great fun swinging the train like a jump rope. The family was not amused and George’s younger sister, Ruth, put a stop to the fun, following which I just marched along in a boring mode until I was relieved of the duty.

How did Grandmother Murray happen to be living in Denver?  In 1913 Annie Pannill Murray (Teta) fell in love with a neighbor in Newnan, named Byrd Baxter Tompkins. They were married October 1, 1913 and their only child, Mary Ann Tompkins was born August 24, 1914 in Newnan. Byrd Baxter Tompkins was reportedly a mean alcoholic who abducted Mary Ann after some unpleasant disagreement with Teta. My sister was involved in her rescue following which, Grandmother Murray, Ruth, Teta, Rachel (Zeb), Emory Clay, Samuel Morton, and Mary Ann left Newnan to protect Mary Ann and Teta from Byrd Baxter Tompkins. They went to Ashville South Carolina where Samuel Morton Murray died of tuberculosis in August 1915, when Mary Ann was one year of age. Then they moved to Trinidad, Colorado. Uncle Melton had gone to Colorado just before World War I to help harvest grain. One Sunday morning he could not find a collar button so visited some homesteader neighbors to see if he could borrow one. They invited him to go to their “church” service with them, which he did. The “church” was a group of Christians without a name or organizational structure. They met in homes and had no church buildings. Uncle Melton decided to join the “church” and subsequently Grandmother Murray, Teta, and Mary Ann joined the same “church”. Teta changed the spelling of their name from Tompkins to Thompkins to keep Byrd Tompkins from tracing them. Ruth became a nurse. Brer and Zeb were in High School. Melton was drafted into the army in World War I. He was a conscientious objector to bearing arms. The soldiers physically abused him because he refused to bear arms. Finally, the captain contacted his mother and told her to come get him before the soldiers killed him. She nursed him back to good health following which he became a missionary to Mexico. The family moved to Denver in 1919 where Ruth married Albert Henry Lichty (“Uncle Bill”) in 1924.

 Now back to Atlanta. I was born September 17, 1924. My mother was 40. During her pregnancy, she prayed that she would have a boy because she was afraid that if she had a girl her friends and family would suggest that she had a girl to take “Baby Anna’s” place. She did not want anyone to take Baby Anna’s place. Her prayers were answered when I arrived. She told me that she had a difficult delivery requiring the presence of three doctors. Apparently, they were not impressed with my arrival. When I was enlisting into the navy in World War II, I wrote for a copy of my birth certificate to discover that none of the three doctors had bothered to record my birth!  My memories of the life on the farm are mixed. I always enjoyed my father’s attention although he was not at home much of the time because of the long commute to his warehouse in downtown Atlanta. He never learned how to drive a car so used the streetcar for transportation. Andy was 9 years older than I was and enjoyed pushing me in a swing in one of the big trees in our yard. Some swinging was fun but I was subject to motion sickness and he would push me until I would vomit. Thirty years later, I evened the score. He and Nora visited Los Angeles before Jane and I were to be married. We took them to a Cinerama show, which was projected on three screens simultaneously. One felt as if he were in the helicopter just missing high cliffs and other obstacles. It gave one the sensation of motion and he became quite nauseated!  On the farm, Andy and I played a game where we would race around the house in opposite directions. Of course he was much older so could beat me readily. I could persuade my father to help me so that I could beat Andy. Andy was not thrilled with this plan but I thought it was great! After my sister, Mary Virginia was married and living in Worthington Ohio, she came to spend some time with “Mama” as did most southern daughters. One Saturday night, I was receiving my weekly bath in a round tub in the front room. Mary Virginia and my mother had gone outside to cover some young plants to protect them from the cool night air. One of the black farm hands came to the house and tried to break in. Exactly what he was after was unclear. He may have been drunk. He was thrusting his big muscular body at the front door. I can remember the long nails on the U shaped boards, which held a 2x4 in place gradually coming out of the wood. Andy, age 13, was standing behind the door with a loaded double barrel shot gun ready to shoot him if he did break the door down. The gas company was digging a ditch through our property for a gas pipeline. At intervals, they erected a small shack for a watchman. When my mother and sister realized what was happening they ran to the closest guard and asked for his help. He sneaked up behind the intruder and hit him in the back of his head with a pickaxe. This laid him out long enough for the sheriff to arrive. They asked my mother if they wanted them to “take care of him” which meant lynching on the spot. She told them “no, just take him away” which they did. We were never allowed to discuss this incident for fear that George Harding, III would never allow my sister to visit us again. We never discussed it until after his death. We moved from the farm to 20 Highland Drive just off Peachtree Street in Buckhead (Atlanta) when I was about 4 years old. I remember the three or four years that we lived on Highland Drive as very pleasant and remember the warmth of my parents. Highland drive was a steep hill, ideal for roller-skating with the skates fixed to the shoe soles with a special key. My father would walk with me and I would go to church with him on Sunday and Sunday night. He attended the Park Street Methodist church and I was delighted to help him take up the offering. At the same time, I went to the Atlanta Seventh Day Adventist Church in a small brick church across from Grant Park on Saturdays, with my mother. The Mitchell brothers who were dentists were members of that church. The older brother, J. Russell Mitchell gave my graduation address when I was graduated from Loma Linda University in 1950. His younger brother Gerald taught in the dental school at Loma Linda. During these years in Atlanta, the family became acquainted with the Dortch family who ran bakeries in Atlanta, Birmingham, Alabama and Jackson, Mississippi. “Papa” Dortch was blind. He lived in Atlanta near the baking company headquarters. A rope was strung from the house to the office so he could follow the rope to work. He memorized the finances and each part of the baking machinery. Each afternoon he and the brothers in Birmingham and Jackson would have a telephone conference. If some of the machinery was not working properly he would tell them how to fix it. Ted Dortch was the brother in Birmingham. Later when Andy and Nora settled in Birmingham, they renewed the friendship, which had started in the church school in Atlanta. Nora started her labor contractions one evening when they were visiting the Dortche’s.  When Andy and Nora left to go to the hospital, “Ted”, whose real name was “Fred” told Andy if they had twins to name one for him. Andy and Nora did not know that she had twins until they were delivered so Fred, one of the twins, was named for Ted Dortch whose given name was Frederick Dortch.  Back to 20 Highland Drive in Atlanta. I would frequently go to work with my father and I had a wonderful time “working” with the hired help all of whom were black. The oldest such employee was Paul Bridges. He drove the truck. He was paid $20.00 per week, which was a good salary at that time. He would frequently not show up for work Monday morning because he was in jail for being drunk on Saturday night. My father would threaten to leave him in jail each time but discovered that he was needed to run the business so he would send Andy to the jail to bail him out. When they loaded the bales of hay on the truck, they would leave space on the center of the truck open so I could sit between the hay bales and ride. This was always fun, riding on the back of the truck. My father would always instruct them to take good care of me. The railroad track ran behind the warehouse so the hay and sacks of grain could be unloaded into the warehouse and onto a long slide down to the ground floor. On some occasions, a load of watermelon would come by. If any were cracked we would buy one for a nickel and eat out the heart so we did not have to deal with the seeds. Sitting on the curb with the hired help drinking Dr. Pepper was a high time also. I still like Dr. Pepper. In fact, the young man, Balthazar, who brings the refreshments to the players on the golf course at the Morningside club, where we live, brings Dr. Pepper for me. When I was seven, I was started in the local grade school and finished the first grade. In 1932, the depression was in full swing so that my father’s business was not doing well. At the same time he became ill with some undiagnosed pulmonary problem.  With the depression and his illness combined, the business was either sold or given to S. Paul Travis who had worked for my father. We moved to Denver because it was supposed to be a better place for pulmonary infections and my grandmother had a home at 2655 West 39^th Avenue at the corner of Clay Street. I had just started the second grade in Atlanta so was transferred to Columbian Grade School on 40^th Avenue and Federal Boulevard. Zeb bought me my first sheepskin coat for the cold winter in Denver. Those living at 2655 West 39^th Avenue were my grandmother Murray, Teta, Mary Ann Thompkins, Donald Allen, and a family who rented two rooms on the first floor and a single renter, Robert Wasley, in one of the upstairs rooms. The doctor would come to the house periodically and perform a thorancentesis on my father. I knew he was sick but really did not understand the gravity of his illness. During his illness, George Harding, III, my brother-in-law wrote him an extraordinary, beautiful letter. It was written in his own long hand script. I have appended a typed copy of the letter to this document. Perhaps you would like to read it at this time. On February 10, 1933, Teta came into my bedroom and asked me if I knew that my father had died during the night. The next few days were very difficult for me. At the time, it was not because my father had died but the feeling that I did not know what to do. I think everyone else was busy with his or her own thoughts, grieving and activities that no one told me what I could do or could not do. No one asked me how I felt. I was very uncomfortable and very unsure of myself. His body was kept in the living room where the funeral was conducted. My mother cried over the body in the casket. This was embarrassing to me, again because I did not understand. We rode to Crown Hill Cemetery in the mortuary limousine where he was buried in an unmarked grave. Years later, I had the grave marked then in 1996, I had his remains moved to the grave next to my mother in Westview Cemetery in Atlanta. The grave is in section 32, lot 321. There are three remaining empty gravesites. The day of my father’s funeral was a cold, windy day in the winter in Denver. If you have seen the opening scene of “Dr. Zhivago”, you will remember the little boy looking out a window at brown leaves blowing over patches of snow. That reminded me of the day my father was buried in Denver. I was 8 years of age. Our time in Denver, during the middle of the depression was pleasant and we did not lack for food or basic clothing. I was never allowed to wear ragged clothing. It may have been mended several times but had no holes or ragged edges. I had many friends and Don Allen and I did some activities together. We rode bicycles and there was enough money for us to have our own “Flexible Flyer” sleds. The streets were not paved and the automobiles had bumpers. When the cars turned the corner on 39^th and Clay we could run and belly flop on the sled and catch the rear bumper and ride without fear as far as we chose then catch another car back home. We were not encouraged in this activity but I do not remember anyone being run over or injured in any way. We made our own kites and they flew quite well. We made carts from spare parts and rigged the steering with rope wrapped around a broomstick and turned with a steering wheel obtained in the junkyard. Work up baseball was a common game in the vacant lot. We also dug a cave in the vacant lot. The house had a large screened upstairs porch. Don Allen and I slept on the porch the year around. In the cold winter nights, we took a hot water bottle to bed and enough covers made the porch a nice sleeping spot. To make money I delivered “hand bills” for one of the grocery stores. I was paid a quarter for delivering a large number of bills to the neighborhood houses. I was not supposed to walk on the yards but as the afternoon got colder and I had fewer handbills to deliver I would cross some of the yards rather than going out to the sidewalk of every house. Once I froze my earlobes and they were painful for several days. In the summer, I mowed lawns. The part I detested was clipping the grass next to the walks with a hand clipper. I was generally paid 25-50 cents depending upon the size of the yard. Once I went home with one of my grade school classmates and found the family living in the basement, surviving on government welfare because the father had no job. In spite of our own fiscal limitations, I cried in sorrow for that family. At Christmas time Teta helped Don and me make Christmas cards. We would cut figures from colored paper and paste them to make cards. This was great fun for us. We were allowed to listen to “Jack Allen, the all American boy”, sponsored by “Phillips 66” gasoline on the radio weekly. His activities were always interesting to children. Radio time was strictly limited and homework time was first. I took trumpet lessons and played in the school band. Each summer “Rufins” and Bill Henry Lichty would arrive from Houston. This was in keeping with the southern tradition for daughters to visit their mothers in the summer. Don Allen and I made life rather unpleasant for Henry. We made up unkind nicknames and were in general mean. In retrospect, I am not at all certain why we acted in this way. Periodically, for what reason I do not know my mother would decide that we would live in Worthington Ohio for awhile so we would ride the bus, non-stop to Ohio. The bus was the cheapest means of travel. My mother was frustrated because of her lack of any education for working for income. She was adamant that her children receive an education. Even though we would be on the bus for 3 nights, when we arrived in Worthington I was expected to go to school that day. In Worthington, we lived with my sister, Mary Virginia and George Harding III along with George, IV, Herndon, Ann, and Ruthie Reason a hired 16 year old at 430 East Granville Road. This house was not very large so I do not know how we all lived in that house. Later we lived at 772 Griswold and later to 805 Griswold Street. Warren was born when we lived on Griswold Street. From the second through the seventh grade I did not finish one full year in the same school. I have always been envious of friends who had a long time friend ship with classmates and remember teachers. Before I finished the seventh grade in Skinner Junior High School in Denver in 1938 we moved to Worthington and did not return to Denver. I was placed in the little church school, which was housed in the nurse’s home at the Harding Hospital. I could not handle being in a one-room school with 8 grades so my mother sent me to the Worthington Public Junior High School in 1938. My school years in Worthington are a pleasant memory. I played basketball and ran with the track team. I made good grades in school and feel very close to my high school classmates. The teachers were good. The basketball coach, Ray Heischman was an exceptional person and was a fine role model for the students. I attended Sabbath School and Church regularly and defined my allegiance to the Church and to Christ by baptism in the Columbus Church in 1938 or 1939. There was no baptistery in Worthington. This commitment has been the most important and stabilizing influence in my life. When all else failed, I could turn to God with assurance that we would get through the impediment together. I have never been angry with God for any loss or misadventure in my life. Anger at God for loss of friend, family or fortune is common among many of my friends but it has never been a problem for me. In part, at least I believe this to be the sequel to my warm, although brief memory of my father. His warmth and love for me is one of my fondest memories. I often wonder what it would have been like to have a father into my adult years. I could not have had a better surrogate father than George Harding III. I could always discuss my problems with him. He would give me good advice and all of the time I needed. Since my sister was 18 years my senior, their children, my nieces and nephews have been more like siblings than nieces and nephews. In the summer of 1941, the two employees at the Harding Sanitarium front office took a months vacation at the same time. The administrator wanted to hire two people to fill-in. I asked for the two jobs, which meant 14 hours per day for 7 days a week for a month. I made enough money for a trip. My mother talked Andy into loaning his Plymouth to me and two of my high school classmates, Bob Seidel and Joe Schurtz. We drove from Worthington to Wyoming where we visited Yellowstone Park. Most of the time we slept in or beside the car. We drove by the Mount Rushmore monument and climbed to the top of the edifice. We drove south to Denver where we stayed with Teta and Mary Ann for a few days. We then drove to Oklahoma where Joe Schurtz had a brother who worked for an oil company. We stayed with him for a few days then drove back to Worthington in time for our junior year in high school. That summer I was 16 years old. We had a wonderful trip and had no difficulty taking care of ourselves. We were on a cash basis only and paid our own expenses, which were not much under our self-imposed restrictions. On December 7, 1941, the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor and we were at war with Japan and Germany. The day was a Sunday and the time in Worthington was about 10:00 am. I was washing the windows at 430 East Granville Road, which was my sister’s home. At school, the following morning by radio, all of the students listened to the famous speech which Franklin D. Roosevelt; the president gave to the United States Congress: 

“Yesterday, December 7, 1941-a date which will live in infamy-the United States of America was suddenly and deliberately attacked by naval and air forces of the empire of Japan.

The United States was at peace with that nation and, at the solicitation of Japan, was still in conversation with the government and its emperor looking toward the maintenance of peace in the pacific.

Indeed, one hour after Japanese Air Squadrons had commenced bombing in Oahu, the Japanese Ambassador to the United States and his colleagues delivered to the secretary of state a formal reply to a recent American message. While this reply stated that it seemed useless to continue the existing diplomatic negotiations, it contained no threat or hint of war or armed attack.

It will be recorded that the distance of Hawaii from Japan makes it obvious that the attack was deliberately planned many days or even weeks ago. During the intervening time, the Japanese Government has deliberately sought to deceive the United States by false statements and expressions of hope for continued peace.

The attack yesterday on the Hawaiian Islands has caused severe damage to American Naval and Military Forces. Very many American lives have been lost. In addition, American ships have been reported torpedoed on the high seas between San Francisco and Honolulu.

Yesterday the Japanese government also launched an attack against Malaya.

Last night, Japanese forces attacked Hong Kong.

Last night, Japanese forces attacked Guam.

Last night, Japanese forces attacked the Philippine Islands.

Last night, the Japanese attacked Wake Island.

This morning, the Japanese attacked Midway Island.

Japan has, therefore, had undertaken a surprise offensive extending throughout the Pacific Area. The facts of yesterday speak for themselves. The people of the United States have already formed their opinions and well understand the implications to the very life and safety of our nation.

As Commander in Chief of the Army and Navy, I have directed that all measures be taken for our defense.

Always will we remember the character of the onslaught against us.

No matter how long it may take us to overcome this premeditated invasion, the American people in their righteous might will win through to absolute victory.

I believe I interpret the will of the congress and of the people when I assert that, we will not only defend ourselves to the uttermost, but will make very certain that this form of treachery shall never endanger us again.

Hostilities exist. There is no blinking at the fact that our people, our territory and our interests are in grave danger.

With confidence in our armed forces-with the unbounding determination of our people-we will gain the inevitable triumph-so help us God.

I ask that the congress declare that since the unprovoked and dastardly attack by Japan on Sunday, December 7, a state of war has existed between the United States and the Japanese Empire.”

The next day the Germans declared war against the United States so we would be fighting a war in Europe and in the Pacific simultaneously. Those in my age group (I was 17 on September 17, 1941) would be drafted and we all had to register for the draft. Because of my Adventist and Christian commitment, I registered as a conscientious objector. There were two types of “c/o” registrants. One group would not go into the military service at all and were placed in non-military jobs such as allowing themselves to undergo medical experiments on themselves. The other group, which was the group that I requested, would go into the military service but in a non-combat status. The majority of such “c/o’s” would be in a medical facility. This was in keeping with the Seventh Day Adventist posture and was acceptable to the military services. The likelihood of being drafted before finishing high school was improbable so high school continued as gasoline, sugar, and rubber products were quickly rationed. It became apparent that the more education one had the better were the chances for a better assignment in the military. At the end of our junior year in Worthington high school, a classmate, named Edward Hard and I had 15 credits and needed 16 to be graduated. We both planned to pursue medicine as a profession. The high school principal, Harold McCord, agreed to give us a crash course in American history that summer so we could have 16 credits and accelerate our educational goals. During the summer of 1942, I took the high school class in American history and at the same time enrolled in a comparative anatomy class under professor Hanawalt at Otterbein College in Westerville, Ohio. Westerville was about 10 miles from Worthington. Charles Harding had attended Otterbein and my brother Andy had graduated from Otterbein in 1940. By attending Otterbein, I could work nights and weekends at the Harding Sanitarium and live at home, which made it fiscally feasible to progress in my educational objectives. When I graduated from Worthington High School in June 1943, I was a sophomore in college. As the war progressed, both in the pacific and in Europe, more and more of my friends were going into the service. I realized that my c/o status simply put me in another position in our war effort and did not relieve me from the objective of winning the war. I realized that if confronted with the enemy face to face and if the enemy were to threaten anyone in my family that I would use whatever force necessary to defeat them. I had an inward conscience problem with the "c/o" status. Without discussing the matter with anyone I went to the draft board and changed my status to a regular draftee. Having taken this step, I was reclassified “1A” and knew that it would be only a brief period until I was drafted. Andy had been drafted and was stationed in a medical unit at Fort Benjamin Harrison in Indianapolis. I decided that if I were in the service I would prefer to be an officer and to take a stringent type of training program. Digging foxholes and sleeping in trenches did not appeal to me. This led me to enlist in the navy as an aviation cadet. In December 1943, I was inducted into the navy in Detroit, Michigan and assigned to the preflight training program at Ohio Wesleyan College in Delaware, Ohio. This was about 25 miles from home. Much to my surprise and to the surprise of my family I was allowed to spend Christmas, 1943 at home, now in the uniform of a naval aviation cadet. At this preflight facility, we had a rigorous schedule of military discipline, physical activity and classes in navigation and other ground courses necessary for flying. The Navy did an excellent job of pragmatic training without too much theory. After three months in Delaware, Ohio, we were shipped to the Michigan State Teacher’s College in Mt. Pleasant Michigan. In this facility, we continued ground training but also began flight training under what was called “Civil Aeronautics War Training Service”. Our instructors were civilians. We flew Piper Cubs and Taylorcraft planes. They had radial Lycoming engines with magnetos for electrical current. They had no batteries. They were started by manually turning the propeller. The initial instructions included getting out of the way of the propeller before it hit you. I flew about 80 hours during the 3 months at this facility, ½ half of which was solo. In some ways, I enjoyed flying but I was subject to motion sickness, which was a deterrent. When we learned to solo, we had to take the plane to 5000 feet and at a crossroad intersection stall and spin the plane 720 degrees. I could do this but it made me quite sick most of the time. I was adjusting when we were shipped to our next station. It was quite cold in March, April, and May in northern Michigan. Our commanding officer had “pushed pencils” in some type of job before the war and had no idea about how to deal with teenagers. An example was about bedding. The Navy Blue Book, which was the guiding structure in the Navy, stated that each sailor must have a blanket. The blankets in this dormitory were worn thin and the heater was turned down at night so we were always cold. The water heater was inadequate for this many men so the water was hot only part of the time. Apparently, the word got to some headquarters because about ½ way through the 3 months, a new commanding officer arrived. He was Fred Sington who had been a football coach at the University of Alabama in Birmingham. The morale received an immediate boost, we got adequate bedding and he arranged social functions with the college girls in the school. The majority of men in our age group were in the service so we were the only men on the campus. We continued ground training along with the flying so this was a pleasant and productive 3 months. After 3 months in Mount Pleasant, we were shipped to an advanced preflight school at the University of Iowa in Iowa City, Iowa. Once again, we were on a college campus and lived in a student dormitory. It was a women’s dormitory but at that time, the military personnel were strictly isolated by sex in separate housing facilities. This was the most rigorous training and the best-run facility. We had three hours of physical training a day. We had swimming, boxing, wrestling, and a difficult obstacle course. Prior to running the obstacle course, we were required to run a quarter mile. The timing began when we started the quarter mile. The obstacle course had the usual obstacles-a wall to climb, ropes over water, which had to be traversed, and obstacles to be jumped over and crawled under. If a cadet did not finish in a given time, he had to run the course every day for the next week. This was an incentive to finish under the time limit. It was not uncommon to see a number of cadets vomiting at the end of the course. We studied the Morse code, air navigation and celestial navigation at night. We had excellent food and a pitcher of milk on each table. We were in excellent physical condition. In July 1944, we were informed that the attrition rate of pilots in the South Pacific was not as high as had been anticipated. In other words, there were not as many deaths as had been anticipated and they had over enlisted aviation cadets. We were given four choices: 1. We could stay in the aviation program. 2. We could become enlisted sailors and go to the fleet. 3. We could attend a 90 day concentrated officer training school and become a line officer. 4. We could be discharged from the military service. Since the general attitude was that the war was going well and I was anxious to get on with my medical education I chose the discharge. I returned to Otterbein College and worked nights and weekends at the Harding Sanitarium.  I lived at home in Worthington with my mother. I received some college credit for my courses in the navy and was able to take enough courses to be graduated with a bachelor’s degree in May 1945. At this time, the war was still being fought both in Europe and in the South Pacific. In fact, the “Battle of the Bulge” was in the winter months of 1944-45. Before this German counter offensive the opinion in Europe was that the soldiers would be at home for Christmas 1944. The island hopping in the South Pacific was very bloody and a number of islands necessary for invading Japan were still in Japanese occupation so the war continued. In May of 1945, I was graduated from Otterbein with a bachelor’s degree and the draft board suddenly awakened to the fact that I had been in the service for only 9 months. Anticipating being drafted did not appeal to me so I took some examinations for the only certain way to be in the navy. This was an electronics training appointment. I passed the examinations easily and was sent to Great Lakes Naval Training Station at Great Lakes, Illinois for boot camp. The company was organized the same, as would be the case in a functional unit. The chief petty officer appointed me as the “apprentice chief petty officer” which meant that I was in charge of the company activities under the direction of the chief petty officer. We were company 1038 and the commander was T. R. Harrison. He was from Texas. After telling me what to do, he spent most of the time in the barracks office playing pinochle. The first instruction, which I received, was that at reveille each morning every recruit was to be out of his bunk before the officer of the day came through or the entire company would be “put on report”. This meant the entire company would have to run around the drill area with a rifle held up over his head. There was one recruit named Gofstein who did not hear reveille and so would not be up. I assigned two boots the job of getting him out of bed each morning. I told them that I did not care where they put him but he must be out of bed. That worked OK but then I discovered that Gofstein could not march in cadence. It was my job to teach the boots how to march in cadence and how to respond to orders when marching. I took it as a personal challenge to teach Gofstein how to march. After the company was started I marched beside him and told him to put his right foot down when I said “right” and to put his left foot down when I said “left”. We tried repeatedly but it did not work. He could not march in cadence. When our company marched for inspection everyone except Gofstein was in step. His out of step cadence stood out like a sore thumb. I had to resolve this some way. We always had one sailor on watch at the barracks 24 hours a day. When we marched for inspection, I assigned Gofstein to be on watch. When the time came for competitive marching, we won the flag with Gofstein on watch. Eleven years later Jane and I were in Boston. She was completing her anesthesia residency at the Peter Bent Brigham hospital and I was a resident in surgery at the Children’s Hospital. We were Christmas shopping at Sears in the winter of 1956. We were standing at a glove display and who should appear but Gofstein!  Of course, we recognized each other and I asked him what he had done after the war. “I went to medical school” he replied. What are you doing now? “I am practicing pediatrics in Salem. I just finished the pediatric residency at the Children’s Hospital.” The next day, at the hospital I asked one of the pediatric residents if he knew Gofstein. He said, “ yes, we could never get him up for rounds in the morning!!” Now back to Great Lakes. On August 6, the atomic bomb was dropped on Hiroshima and 3 days later another bomb devastated Nagasaki. The Japanese then surrendered. The war in Europe was over also. Gasoline rationing and sugar rationing was over and everyone was elated. I knew that there was one vacancy in the medical school class at Ohio State University so I went to the commanding officer and told him that since the war was over and I wanted to get on with my education if he would assign me to a V-12 unit at the medical school in Columbus. He said, “No, you are going to have to collect numbers just as everyone else at which time you will be discharged.” Numbers were given for each month in the service along with numbers for combat activity. When the total was adequate, you were discharged. It took a year to demilitarize the services. Therefore, from boot camp I was sent to Michigan City, Indiana for some more electronics training. From Michigan City, we went to a training station in a Ford Motor Company barracks on the River Rouge in Dearborn Michigan. A personal crisis occurred during the winter of 1945-46 while I was stationed in Detroit. I had developed a long time friendship with a Worthington High School girl. This friendship was a good one because she insisted on my doing my best in all academic matters. At this time, I had the feeling that she wanted to be married and I was not ready for such. I suggested that we end the relationship and both of us found this to be difficult. Not wanting to face the situation directly, I decided to get as far away from Worthington as possible. (From Detroit I could get home for weekend liberty each weekend) I decided to go to the fleet by failing the examinations. After failing the next one, the commanding officer called me in and suggested that since my record had been good before this exam that I should take the examination over. Of course, I did not tell him what was going on. In addition, one of my sailor friends, “Hutch”, told me to stay with the course and we could request Pensacola, Florida for our next base. This helped and I did stay with it but I was sent to Corpus Christi, Texas not Pensacola, Florida. Corpus Christi was a small town of about 15,000 people before the war. It was on the gulf coast of Texas. During the war, six large airfields for training surrounded it. In contrast to Detroit where the people were very nice to the military personnel, some of the people in Corpus Christi were not so receptive. One restaurant had a sign out front, which said, “Dogs and sailors keep out”. There was a small SDA church in Corpus, which I attended. I met a very nice Baptist girl so went to church with her on Sunday nights. Of course, there were a large number of Baptists in Corpus. The time in Corpus was largely spent putting in time and collecting numbers to be discharged. I was aware of the religion courses, which had to be finished before starting medical school at Loma Linda. I contacted the “Home Study Institute” in Washington D.C. and arranged to take a religion course. I was given a number of choices and chose “Daniel and Revelation”. Later I was told this was probably the most difficult one, which I could have chosen. I practically memorized Uriah Smith’s text on Daniel and Revelation. We had a nice library at the Ward Island Station where I could study. Here we were taught airborne electronics. I was also given the job of teaching returned Pacific Fleet sailors slide rule and arithmetic. I was amazed that these men, who had been trouble shooting electronic gear in the Pacific, could not add a column of single numbers. We were also given a job of moving a trellis so the base captain could have a rose garden next to his quarters. Primarily we were putting in time until discharged. Toward the end of my stay in Corpus Christi, Andy started writing to me about marrying Nora Machlan in Washington. Andy had been discharged the previous year and had returned to Washington Missionary College to raise his GPA for admission to medical school when he met Nora. I wanted to surprise him and the family with my homecoming so did not respond to his questions about when I would be discharged. In July 1946, we were shipped to Great Lakes on a troop train and discharged. The commanding officer told us that we would not believe it now but later would realize that our time in the navy would be the most important time in our lives. I arrived in Worthington and Andy and Nora planned their wedding in August. We attached a string of cans to his car with wire to the axle so that they were unable to remove them. In September, George Harding IV and I took a train ride across the country to the Union Station in Los Angeles. Dr. Florence Keller met us at the station and we spent the night in her home on Boyle Street in East Los Angeles. The next day she drove me to Loma Linda where I discovered that I was a day late. The physical examinations of all of the incoming medical students had been finished the day before. They were very kind to me and one of the doctors did my physical after which I went to the registrar’s office to matriculate. This was my first contact with Chester Fink the registrar. He was a tall red headed thin man with a big nose through which he spoke. He looked like “Ichabod Crane”. He had never seen me before but immediately he said, “Mr. Woolley you have not completed your required religion classes for admission”. Of course this startled me but when I explained that they had been completed through the Home Study Institute he checked and authorized me for admission. Since I was a veteran, they somehow assumed that I was married and would arrange for my own apartment. I told them that I was not married and wanted to live in the dormitory. The dormitory was called “Daniel’s Hall”. John Harris did not have a roommate so I was assigned to be his roommate. This was a fortunate assignment because I could not have picked a finer roommate. We roomed together through the junior year until he was married. Unfortunately, I had left my trunk and suitcase keys at home so had to write to get them. The trunks and suitcases remained in the room for the week until my keys came from Worthington. Medical school started on Sunday morning with an anatomy class. A man walked into the amphitheatre in blue overalls. He sat on the steps and asked one of the students what time it was. The student assumed that he was a janitor and told him where the clock was. Eventually he got up, and went to the podium and introduced himself as Dr. Samuel Crooks, professor of anatomy!  He then read the poem “Blue Overalls” by Thomas Russell Shelton and told us that he had worn out several Bibles and several overalls in his life but more overalls than Bibles. After the first week of anatomy, we were given a quiz, which I, along with a number of others failed. I was discouraged and homesick. Most of my classmates had been in college with some of the others so had a head start on acquaintances. I knew no one. On Friday afternoon, I was ready to pack and go home and to Ohio State University. One of the members of the sophomore class wanted to buy something from the War Surplus Store at the airfield in San Bernardino. He was not a veteran so asked me to go along to buy the items for him. This deflected my attention from what I thought was a failure so I got through Friday afternoon. The next day Carroll Small invited me for lunch then took me into the mountains where he handed out religious literature. This personal contact along with the one the Friday before got me through the crisis and for the next four years I had a wonderful time in school. Two years in Loma Linda, one year at the Los Angeles County Hospital, a month in Mexico for tropical diseases then the senior year at the White Memorial Hospital Clinics. By this time, I was the only single male in my class. I chose the County Hospital for my rotating internship and the first month I was the intern on Lou Smith’s surgical ward #9600. It was his first month as a surgical resident. I was fascinated with the decisions, which he had to make, particularly during the night, from 4:00 to 6:00 A.M. This was a wonderful way to start my internship and influenced me to become a surgeon rather than an internist or a psychiatrist, which had been my two alternatives. At that time to obtain the surgical residency, one had to intern for two years. I applied for the surgical residency and in two years was appointed to the residency program. In my third of residency year, an intern by the name of Emma Jane Griffith appeared on my service. She had come from the University of Pittsburgh because her family had moved to California from Johnstown, Pennsylvania. We struck up a friendship. It became a close friendship. I had not planned to marry a doctor and thought it best not to marry someone who did not share my religious persuasion. She talked with Arthur Bietz who in turn assigned her to Bob Milton, his assistant, for Bible and religious study. Jane had been raised in the Methodist Church, as had my mother and father. She accepted the Adventist message and was baptized in the Spanish Seventh Day Adventist Church across the street from the White Memorial Hospital. I then asked her to marry me. She accepted and Arthur Bietz performed the wedding ceremony at the Pasadena Seventh Day Adventist Church on July 24, 1955. After finishing her internship, she started the anesthesia residency at the Los Angeles County General Hospital. A year later when I finished the surgical residency at the Los Angeles County General Hospital we went to Boston where I was a resident in pediatric surgery under Dr. Robert E. Gross at the Boston Children’s Hospital. It was Eugene Joergenson’s plan to establish a department of surgery at the Loma Linda University headed by sub specialists. Ellsworth Wareham was the thoracic trainee, Ralph Thompson the cancer trainee, Lou Smith the Research and Vascular Chief and I was the Pediatric Surgeon. Jane finished her residency at the Peter Bent Brigham Hospital under Leroy Van Dam. We were in Boston for three years during which time Cynthia was born at the Boston Lying In Hospital. The rest is known history.

This is a copy of a letter sent to my mother in 1920 during her stay in Denver. Andy and Mary Virginia were with her. They lived with Grandmother Murray at 1935 West 39^th Avenue. This is one of several hand-written letters all of which express his desire for her to return to Atlanta as soon as is possible. I have never seen the letters from Denver to Atlanta.

ATLANTA MASONIC CLUB

ATLANTA, GA

                March 5, 1920

My own own Darling Mary:

                                                Your sweet little note of Tuesday and the package were waiting for me upon my return this afternoon, and thanks so much for both. I have not tried on the garments yet, but will do so when I am ready to retire tonight, and will let you know the results in my next letter. The enclosed is an exact measure of my waist. The garments are lovely, just like you and I know will be comfortable. I’ll let you know all about them in my next letter, which you may rest assured will follow shortly. For I seem to have the letter-writing habit, and this night I can’t go to sleep until after I’ve written to my Angel Sweetheart. O, Darling, tell me, do you like to get these letters from me. Do you love me, like you used to, years ago, when we used to look for letters from each other every day, and imagine that some great catastrophe had befallen unless such a message came? I know you love me, Darling, but I just want you to tell me so over and over again, for to my ears it’s "the sweetest story ever told". And Darling, as the time draws near for you to come back to me, it seems that I get more and more impatient to see you. It’s been such a long, long time, and I’ve needed you so many, many times, and tonight if you were just here with me I would be so happy. Some one to talk to me, to advise me and sympathize with me and love me and let me love. For you are all the world to me, and I want a home, a sure enough home with you as the central attraction, for you are indeed to my mind the purest, sweetest creature in all the world. And there’s nothing ever going to keep us apart a single minute after this, is there Precious? “Me and You”, together, all the time after this.

We are certainly having some weather. Yesterday it rained all day, today has been cold and tonight, I believe is the coldest night we have had this Winter, and here it is one week in March almost gone. Tonight is just such a night as the one when you came up from Newnan on the midnight train, I met you at the station, and we nearly froze before we could get a car home. But by the time you come home to me I hope the cold weather will be gone, and the flowers will be blooming. This is surely our last cold spell though we have had a very mild winter, but lots of rain.

I splashed around in Newnan yesterday, and as a result took a fresh cold and didn’t sleep very well last night, but will be all right today, and can make up for lost sleep tonight.

I know I’m going to get a nice long letter in the morning, and I’m looking for one every day, for I have the idea that you don’t have anything to do but pay attention and take care of me. It won’t take much attention to spoil me.

Excuse this short letter this time, and I’ll do better in the next.

But I’m loving you a whole lot tonight, Mary, and long for you to come on, take care of me, and let me take care of you.

Good-night for this time, and with all my love,

                                                Devotedly,

Friday night                                                    Price

The following document was sent to me in 1980 by my first cousin, SAMUEL DUBOSE MURRAY, M.D., Atlanta, Georgia.  He was the son of HORACE HERNDON MURRAY.

HERNDON MURRAY’S RECOLLECTIONS (1954)

            Horace Herndon Murray, called by his middle name from the time he could remember, was born on May 20, 1879, in Dahlonega, Ga., the second of ten children born to Zebuline Herndon and Samuel Weems Murray.  The father was then 26 and the mother was 23 years old.

            The infant’s older brother, Grantland, had been born in Griffin on Washington’s Birthday, 1877, and moved with his parents to Dahlonega at a tender age. Herndon himself was a part of another such transfer, going to Newnan when he was about two. “Maa’s” remaining eight children were all born in Newnan: Morton (“Mote”) in 1882, Mary 1884, Henry Minor (“Cap”) 1887, Anna (“Tee-ta”) 1889 Ruth 1892, Melton 1895, Zebuline (“Zeb”) 1897 and Henry Clay in 1900.

            In Newnan, the family first lived on Robinson Street, then on East Washington, considered at the time the classy part of town. When Herndon was about 15, the family moved to the “Murray House” at 42 West Washington Street.

            Some of Herndon’s boyhood playmates on East Washington were Charles Thompson, Litt Jones, and the Arnold boys: Ben Arthur and Jesse.  Herndon was an eyewitness to Charles Thompson’s fall from a tree he had climbed to see if a bird had laid eggs in its nest, and was crippled for life as a result of the accident.  Later he was to persuade Andrew Carnegie to build a library in Newnan.

            The boys’ favorite treat, especially Litt Jones’s, was a vanilla milkshake, made with milk, vanilla and plenty of ice. It cost a nickel.

            All the boys’ families had a cow—the Murrays had a goat as well—and it was the boys’ task to drive the cows to and from pasture.  Murray Street, Cole Lane and Robinson Street were at least twice a day full of cows.

            The grammar school on Temple Avenue was the scene of Herndon’s primary schooling and Mrs. Nimmons was his first-grade teacher. Some of his schoolmates were Ben Arnold, Robin Robinson, Bill Sneed, Howard Hughes, Cliff Herring, Alton Arnold, Joe Will Pinson, Ralph Potts, Dollie Keith, Bob Lovejoy, Susie Willcoxin, Mary Gibson, Sanders Gibson and Howard Askew. A vivid recollection involved the time in the 7^th grade when Professor Dan Walker got so mad with Ralph Potts that the choked him. Ralph had done some sort of initiation on Howard Askew, possibly over the race for governor of Georgia between Judge Atkinson, of Newnan, and a Mr. Evans who lost.

            The cows the boys looked after liked to eat cotton seed hulls, and Herndon established an enterprise hauling them from the Southern Cotton Mills for Mr. Robert McBride, Mr. Bill’s older brother, alongside the A. & W. P. railroad tracks when he was 13 or 14, using an ox and an ox cart he himself furnished.  Business was good, so good in fact that young Herndon tried to get a second calf, an effort that produced an eloquent letter that speaks for itself:

(This letter is in his handwriting)

                                                            “Newnan Ga July 12 1892

            Dear Daddy:

                                                I am very anxious for another calf. I want a mate for Jim.  Jim cant haul and heavy loads by him self, I want to haul sand and pine straw to put all over the stable floor, and cotton seed hulls for the cows, and do all of your draying for you free, I will buy the calf with my own money and buy all of his food too, he shall not cost you a cent. I only wasn’t your consent to let me have it, and I will be a good boy and thank you very much and study hard when school begins and if I do not comply with all of my promises I give you the privilege to sell my cart and both my calves and put the money in your own pocket. I thought I would write this down because when I talk about it I want the other calf so bad I cant help from crying.

                                                                        Respt Yours

                                                                                    Herndon Murray”

            There is no record of high school as such, but Herndon was a sub-freshman at Emory College (not the present Emory University, but a smaller school in Oxford, Ga.) where his older brother Grantland was then in the senior class. He was not happy at Emory, one reason being that Grantland handled all of the money for the two of them. An unsatisfactory arrangement as far as the younger brother was concerned.

            Although he was promoted to the freshman class, Herndon did not go back for a second year at Emory, going instead to Bell Buckle in Tennessee, where “Sawney” Webb himself was the principal.  “Sawney” never issued diplomas, merely a letter to the president of the college desired that “so-and –so was now ready for the freshman class. The boy’s “Aunt Sackie” had a son his age, Rush, whom she had always planned to send to Bell Buckle. It seems that Rush “took a shine” to Herndon at a propitious moment, hence the double matriculation at Bell Buckle.

            At Bell Buckle, the entire student body met every morning in the Big Room for chapel, under “Sawney’s” direct care, and then had classes in smaller rooms all around. Herndon spent one year and an additional summer at Bell Buckle.  “Maa” then took him out, whereupon his friend Litt Jones was persuasive enough to let Herndon accompany him to the University of Virginia. Students took whatever courses they wanted or needed to graduate, and there was no freshman class as such, really. Herndon took history, Latin and Math, and remembered that Professor Page was particular strict in Math. He went out for football along with numerous young Cavaliers, but found it too rough, confining his extra-curricular activities thereafter to swimming in the tank and running around the track. Week-ends were for study; there were no dances or other distractions. He roomed with his cousin, Herndon Fife, in his Charlottesville home for six months, then moved into Johnson House, a Hotel for students on the edge of the campus, for the rest of the year at Virginia.

Back in Newnan at the age of 20, he joined the Army in September of 1899 to fight the Spanish-American War, enlisting in the all Newnan Company recruited by Steve Powell.  After a very brief local drilling program, the Company reported to Fort McPherson, where it remained only overnight, then proceeded to Jefferson Barracks, St. Louis, where it underwent basic training.  It was then assigned to the 38^th U.S. Volunteers, of which  Colonel Anderson was regimental commander. The regiment was in Jefferson Barracks for about three months, then proceeded by train to The Presidio, San Francisco, where it remained about one month before embarking in the S.S. Duke of Fife.  The Duke of Fife, in company with the S.S. Saint Louis, sailed shortly for the Philippines, breaking passage with a two day stop over in Honolulu.  Murray was made a corporal on the way to Jefferson Barracks and first-duty sergeant on the way to the Presidio.

The first sergeant was Jack Spear, his first cousin, and like all of the others from Newnan.

            Arriving in  Manila, the regiment marched dross-country to Batangas and set up quarters there, just in time for the rainy season. Part of Sgt. Murray’s duties was mustering his platoon, and he soon learned that muster lists disintegrated under the constant rain.  So he committed the names to memory, which he retained for life:

Askew            Cowgill            Hubbard         Lanter             O’Brien          Stell

Bell                 Edwards            Hughes            Lawford            Ogelsby            Sumner

Brady              Frasier            Ivy                   Lawler            Potter             Tye

Buchanan            Goodman            Jackson          Leigh              Scott               Van Horn

Carlisle            Graham            Johnson, A.    Lynn                Smith, A.T.            Vaughn

Cash                Grant               Johnson, C.    Lundy              Smith, E.W.            Vauvlosky     

Chinn              Hagar              Jones              Morgan          Smith, T.            Watson

Clark               Hall                 Kaiser             Newbill            Sperlock            Weaver

Cooley            Hamlin          Kline               Nicholson      Stuart              Witherford

Youngblood  

            He could still identify his rifle: Serial No. 215638.

            Sgt. Murray was in charge of a detail going to rescue of a paymaster party, which had been ambushed, by a row of guns, a volley overhead, and an elephant gun loaded with match-heads for powder. He and they fought spasmodically al the way from Zaporta Bridge to Batangas.

            Part of the U.S. psychological warfare program was the issue of Filipino money coined in Mexico, an attempt to undermine the Filipino currency. U.S. soldiers filled their knapsacks with the picked-up money, then threw it away when it became too heavy.

            The entire Company took part in operations, which freed 20-year prisoners of the Spaniards, and learning that Filipinos had tortured a U.S. soldier, burned a town in reprisal, then fought all night long to put the fires out.

            The day after the fire-fight , twelve soldiers, including Sgt. Murray, came down with what proved to be typhoid fever, and while castor oil and other effects, it did nothing to relieve the typhoid. Three of the twelve died in Batangas, three recovered and were returned to duty, three were sent to a hospital ship, and three were left in Batangas, being considered to be too far gone for help. In that last group was Murray, but he somehow recovered. Later he learned that the whole Newnan Methodist Church had been praying for him.

            At long last out of the field hospital and in charge of a squad, he was sent to a village of San Juan de Boc Boc, where his orders were to guard some onions. Apparently the higher echelon forgot about either the onions or the squad, and after the squad ate its two days rations, it subsisted on onions. Three weeks later when the higher command returned, Sgt Murray and to admit to the charge of “Orders, Failure to carry out,” in that the onions were gone but Captain Powell’s intervention saved him from Major Holbrook’s wrath.

            On of the most vivid recollections toward the end of the hostilities was firing at Filipinos trying to run away. The Americans were not trying to hit them, but not knowing this, the Filipinos were running zigzag patterns a latter-day pass-receiver would envy.

            On the eve of the Regiment’s embarkation for return home, Jack Speer went out on a toot that required the whole company to get him back. This was the only eventful episode in the voyage via Nagasaki and Yokohama to San Francisco, where they were mustered out.

            Herndon was paid six cents a mile all the way to Newnan and got home with $200 and a campaign hat raked with gold.  One of the first things he did was to pay the $200 to his father for the printing business set up in the rear of the book store his father ran.

            One of the happy distractions from running the printing business was the arrival of “mighty near every day” of a young teacher form Miss Margaret Cook’s kindergarten, buying a nickel’s worth of colored cardboard and wanting to cut it up into a dollars worth of strips of various and sundry sizes.  Through happy coincidence or connivance of perhaps both, she would always arrived while Herndon’s father was at lunch, and Herndon the sole shop keeper.

            Herndon had met Miss Jennie Wood Quin, of Washington, Wilkes County Georgia, in Newnan shortly after his return from the war, and he courted her before marrying her in Washington on April 22, 1903.  Part of the courtship involved two or three trips to Washington a day-long undertaking requiring an overnight at the Piedmont Hotel in Atlanta: from Newnan to Atlanta on the A. & W. P., thence to Barnett on the old Georgia railroad, then another transfer to a branch line that ran into Washington, where he ran through the ritual of meeting her family and in return being sized up by them. A particular recollection of the young suitor was that Mr. Quin had no peer when it came to cutting thin slices of meat to go around a table full of not inconsiderable number of children.

            The new couple first boarded with Mrs. Leverett until the house at 38 West Washington was vacant, then moved in there, next to the Murray home at 42 West Washington.

            Meanwhile the printing business flourished in the new building, which had been built in 1895 at 7 West Washington Street. Previous to this time, Herndon’s father had operated the book store and the print shop at the location later occupied by Walthall’s Pharmacy in the first block of Greenville Street, and Mr. Murray had sold that building to finance the new Murray Warehouse building, essentially a two-story, half block long frontage of shops, with a single story cotton warehouse in the rear.  Brown Street bordered the western side of the building, and separated it from the first Baptist Church across the street. Madison Street formed the northern boundary, and an alley running between the street and West Washington formed the eastern boundary separating the building from the other half of the block.

            Now the decision was made to supply the demand for cotton tags, and Herndon made the long trip to Bordenton, N.J., to deliver the order for the new tag machine after he had satisfied himself of the details.  Jennie took the occasion to visit her parents in Washington, Ga., going part way with Herndon.

            The tag machine was the first in the South, and the first customer, Herndon always remembered was Inman, Akers & Inman. It took only two or three years to pay for the machine. Herndon was the first and only operator until his first child was born when his cousin, Murray Tyus, began what amounted to a life long job. “Murray Newnan Ga.” was imprinted around the eyelet patch of the tags, and many re-supply orders arrived with just that address. The Murray Manufacturing Company enjoyed a virtual monopoly throughout the South for many years.

             A huge roll of cardboard was fed horizontally through the tag machine in a sequence of automatic steps which notched out the shoulders, glued the patch, punched a hole in the patch and riveted the eyelet, printed the  “Murray Newnan, Ga.” In a circle around the patch, the name and address of the customer-warehouse and the consecutive numbers on the tags and coupons, perforated the coupons and finally at the end of the line, cut off the individual tags. They were collected by hand in groups of fifty and placed in wooden boxes. The final step was wiring the tags with steel or copper wires at the customer’s option, and this was done by 25 or 30 girls more or less an adjunct to the printing business, and under the supervision of the “regular girls”, “Miss Annie” Smith and Mattie and Lucille Alsabrook, who ran the printing presses and did double duty on tag-wiring as well. Often a box of 500 tags was taken home after working hours and brought back the next day for piecemeal rates.

            Job printing remained a part of the Murray Manufacturing Company, and when the Newnan Herald, an original tenant above the tag operations at the end of the frontage nearer the Court Square, moved to its new location above the Newnan banking and Trust Co. at the northeast corner of the Court Square, it was moved upstairs where the newspaper had been. “Stack"  Taylor came from the Herald to Murray, quit once, then returned for a long term. Dave Darrington was a one-man band, but the real producers were those three “regular girls.” Fred Robinson, who married “Miss Annie”, succeeded “Stack” Taylor, much later.  

            Originally, a one-cylinder White & Middleton gasoline engine ran all the machinery. It was located down stairs, and the exhaust discharged into the alley outside; partially, that is, for the line leaked inside and came close to asphyxiating the entire work force on many occasions. Joy was universal, therefore, when an electric motor was installed to replace the gasoline engine. The crew had forgotten that the original printing presses were foot-powered, and that asphyxiation was the price paid for eliminating leg weariness and  charley horses.

            Herndon’s parents bought two or three hundred acres, including a mountain, at Borden Springs, Ala., just across the north Georgia line, about 1905, and the family enjoyed many pleasant outings in this healthy and delightful retreat. Memorable features of Borden Springs were the  spring water, feeding through a long, wooden trough, the creek and waterfall, and the Borden Springs hotel’s social activities.

            Herndon’s father died in 1908 at the age of 54, and “Maa” moved her entire family, except Herndon, Grantland and "Cap”, who had sort of inherited Borden Springs to Denver (2655west39thavedenver, as Fid once addressed a letter at his mother’s spelling). “Cap” started a chicken and duck farm at Borden Springs, but it came a cropper about 1915 and “Cap” returned to Newnan. Herndon bought “Day Farm”, outside Newnan, and put “Cap” in charge, later set up the Murray Produce Co. for him, but neither venture was successful, and “Cap” too, moved to Denver around 1920.

Herndon paid his mother $6000.00 for the house at 42 West Washington Street, and moved his own family in. He also began a long-term series of monthly payments to her in amortization of the Murray Warehouse Building his father had contracted for.

            The house at 38 West Washington, which was the birthplace of Sam, “T”, “Baby Sister” and “Fid”, was swapped for the Lundy house at 126 Greenville Street, where Dot was born, a harbinger of peace for the end of the First World War. The Lundy house was moved bodily shortly before 1920 to McIntosh Street, when the white stucco house with the red-tiled roof was built as the family residence.

            Herndon was 19 when he went to the University of Virginia, 20 when he entered the army, 21 when he returned from the Philippines, 22 when he married, 24 when Sam was born, 25 when “T” arrived , 28 when his father died, 33 when “Fid” was born, 38 at Dot’s birth, 41 when he had the white stucco house built, and 66 when he sold out to Raleigh Arnold and retired.

            Herndon’s favorite story was about a passenger on the train from New York to Chicago, where it was to arrive at eight in the morning. However., this particular passenger didn’t want to get off in Chicago, but at Junction City, a whistle stop, and at 5:30 a.m. So he got hold of the Pullman porter the night before, gave hi a $5-bill, and told him there would be another $5 for him if he got him off the train at Junction City. “But,” said the passenger, “ I must warn you that I’m a heavy sleeper, and will argue with you and even get combative, but if you get me off at Junction City, I’ll calm down. And as I say, I’ll give you another $5-bill.” Well, time passes, and as the train arrives in Chicago, the conductor sees an irate passenger blessing out the Pullman porter, then punching him in the nose and stalking off. “George,” says the conductor, that’s the maddest man I ever saw.”  The porter reflects over this, wipes the blood off of the end of his nose, and says, “Well, sir, I don’t think he was quite as mad as the gentleman I put off at Junction City.”

            N.B. These recollections are transcribed from notes taken in 1954 during Pa-pa’s last visit to Alexandria. On that occasion, Dottie suggested that I sit down with him and ask him to talk about his life. I’m sure there are shortcomings in my note-taking, and that I may have failed to pursue my  interrogations so as to bring out more detail. However I have tried to avoid interpretations.

Alexandria Va. December 1979