Monday, May 30, 2016

A Soldier's Childhood Prayer

The following was found in the knapsack of a soldier of the Civil War, after he had been slain in battle.

~~~

Near the camp fire's flickering light
In my blanket bed I lie
Gazing through the shades of night
And the twinkling stars on high
O'er me spirits in the air 
Silent vigils seem to keep
As I breathe my childhood's prayer


"Now I lay me down to sleep"

Sadly sings the whip-poor-will
In the boughs of yonder tree
Laughingly the dancing rill 
Swells the midnight melody
Foemen may be lurking near
In the canyon dark and deep
Low I breathe in Jesus' ear


"I pray Thee, Lord, my soul to keep" 

'Mid those stars one face I see
One the Saviour turned away
Mother, who, in Infancy
Taught my baby lips to pray
Her sweet spirit hovers near
In this lonely mountain-brake
Take me to her, Saviour, dear


"If I should die before I wake" 

Fainter grows the flickering light
As each ember slowly dies
Plaintively the birds of night
Fill the air with saddening cries
Over me they seem to cry
"You may never more awake" 
Low I lisp, If I should die


I pray Thee, Lord, my soul to take"

Wednesday, May 18, 2016

Obedience

I said: “Let me walk in the fields.”
He said: “No, walk in the town.”

I said: “There are no flowers there.”
He said: “No flowers, but a crown.”

I said: “But the skies are black. There is nothing but noise and din.”

And He wept as He sent me back.
“There is more,” He said, “There is sin.”

I said: “But the air is thick and fogs are veiling the sun.”

He answered: “Yet souls are sick and souls in the dark undone!”

I said: “I shall miss the light and friends will miss me, they say.”

He answered: “Choose tonight if I am to miss you or they.”

I pleaded for time to be given.
He said: “Is it hard to decide?"

"It will not seem so hard in heaven to have followed the steps of your Guide.”

I cast one look at the fields then set my face to the town.

He said, “My child, do you yield? Will you leave the flowers for the crown?”

Then into His hand went mine and into my heart came He;

And now I walk in a light divine, The path I had feared to see.

(Written by George MacDonald (1824-1905), an inspiration to many notables who came after him.)


Tuesday, May 10, 2016

Three Morrow Brothers - They Did Their Bit (by Duay O’Neil)

Left to right: Ernest, George and Charlie Morrow. They were the sons of Arthur and Novie (Caldwell) Morrow of Del Rio, Tennessee.

When World War II began, Arthur and Novie Morrow of Del Rio had already weathered many storms. Arthur was from the Boomer Den community, up near the Tennessee/North Carolina state line above Del Rio. Son of Bulow and Eva (Guffey) Morrow, he was one of six children. Eva died when the children were young and Bulow remarried, this time to Etha Norwood, and they became the parents of three children.

Arthur became acquainted with Nova Caldwell at Mulberry Gap Methodist Church. In those days, much courting was done at church services, and the young couple quickly decided they had found their life’s partner. They married when Arthur was 19, and Nova was 14 years old. Shortly after their marriage, when Novie was only 16, both of her parents died within weeks of one another in tragic logging accidents. The year was 1914 and Novie’s parents, Dan and Minerva Caldwell, were working in a small lumber operation up on Round Mountain in Del Rio.

Dan and Minerva were using a long crosscut saw on a large tree on the mountainside when they cut through it quicker than expected. According to an account of the accident in By the River and Beyond by Nathan Jones, “The huge log came loose and rolled over her completely crushing her body and killing her. She was a hard working woman who worked like a man.” Just a few weeks later, Dan, too, died in a logging accident eerily similar to the one that claimed his wife. When he and another fellow cut a large tree with a crosscut saw, the tree began to fall and crushed Dan who was unable to get out of the way.

Novie was the oldest of the Caldwell children and, little more than a child herself, took two of her siblings to raise. As the years passed, Arthur and Novie’s own family grew to number eight children, the oldest a daughter Annie, who was followed by seven brothers: Ernest, Charlie, George, James, Robert ‘Bob’, Donald, and Jack.
Novie and Arthur Morrow posing for this picture taken at their home in the 1960's.

Two of the boys, James and Bob, were deaf mutes, a condition that didn’t hinder them too much, but in those days before special education classes, physical and vocational therapy, and other help, it still had to be a tough situation. The family weathered the Great Depression, working and saving, somehow managing to remain intact and have food on the table in an era when many Americans faced actual starvation. Arthur was a sharecropper, so the family moved periodically. As a result, the children’s schooling took place all over the county, from Harmony Grove to Edwina to Cosby.

Three of the boys, Ernest, Charlie, and George, answered their country’s call during World War II. As the oldest, Ernest was the first of the Morrow brothers to lay down his plow. Already in the CCC’s, where he helped “build Great Smoky Mountains National Park.” Leaving that group, he next picked up a rifle and served in the United States Army a total of seven years, under the command of Gen. George Patton all across Europe.

In later years, he recalled Patton’s habit of “cussing all the time.” He lost half of one of his feet when he stepped on a landmine while checking for such dangers ahead of the approaching Allied forces and had to wear a prosthetic.

After leaving the service, he sold artificial limbs to other veterans with similar losses and traveled extensively. Already married to his wife Marie when war broke out, he and his wife lived in Newport for a time about 1947, and he operated a shoe shop where Diana’s Beauty Shop is today. Herbert Butler helped him during this time.

“He made sandals,” recalls his sister-in-law Ruth Maloy, whose first husband George, was Ernest’s brother. “All the girls that were graduating from high school bought his sandals. They cost $5 a pair.” But Marie didn’t care for Newport, so the couple moved to Knoxville and he returned to his work as a traveling salesman. At one time they lived in Gadsden, Alabama, but eventually retired to West Palm Beach, Florida.
George Morrow treasured this photo of his buddies in the South Pacific war zone.

Charlie was the second of the Morrow boys to serve his country. He also was in the CCC’s and helped build the rock wall at Clingman’s Dome. Charlie saw service in the United States Air Corps and took his training in Texas and later went to England. “He stayed there mostly,” says Ruth, “loading bombs onto planes and driving trucks. While in England, he learned to like tea.” He also “learned to like” a young woman named Kathleen Court, who promised Charlie she would write his sister, Annie. It was a promise Kathleen would keep, even though she and Charlie never married. For over 40 years, Kathleen and Annie kept up a correspondence, and in 1982, Kathleen and her sister-in-law Heather Court paid a visit to Annie while in the United States for the World’s Fair in Knoxville, Tennessee.

As the Allies moved closer to Berlin, Charlie was sent to Germany and was on a train there when he learned the European war had ended. Charlie received the European-African-Middle Eastern Service Medal with one Silver Star and one Bronze Star. Returning to America, he took advantage of the new G.I. Bill and took training as a mechanic, working for some time for Connie Overholt and Jake Wilds in their car dealership near the courthouse. About 1949, he opened his own garage up in Del Rio in a building owned by Frank Huff, Jr. “It was behind Carlisle’s Store,” recalls Ruth. “He did well, working there until 1963 when he bought his own place. From that time on he farmed and logged.” Charlie married Frances Burgin and they had three boys: Curtis, Jerry, and Tom. Sadly Frances died of cancer at age 34. Charlie married again, this time to Stella Roberts Woody, and they had no children.

The youngest of the Morrow boys to do his bit was George, who struck out on his own when he was 16. His widow Ruth laughs, “He went to New Jersey to work. He lied about his age, claiming he was 19. He drove a truck there for Dewey Strange and worked about a year.” At 17, he left Cocke County again, this time going to Gastonia, North Carolina, where so many others had found work in the textile mills. His older sister, Annie, was already there. “He stayed in Gastonia about six months, and then tried to volunteer for military service at 17,” says Ruth, “but had to wait until he was 18. He served in the Army.” George enlisted in Company F, 17th Infantry Combat, on February 24, 1943 and was honorably discharged November 30, 1945. His tour of duty took him to the Aleutian Islands and on to the South Pacific,, where he found himself in the midst of some of the most brutal fighting of the war. His list of medals and citations is lengthy: four Bronze Stars, three Purple Hearts, two Bronze Oak Leaf Clusters; the Philippine Liberation Ribbon; two more Bronze Stars and four Bronze Service Stars.
A photo of George Morrow. He is one of the most decorated soldiers ever in Cocke County, Tennessee.

A rare, surviving Newport paper, dated Nov. 4, 1943, carries the following mention of George:

Sgt. Morrow Cited For Leyte Bravery

From Col. Francis T. Pachler of the 17th Infantry, the commendation reads, in part:

“…I commend you for your courage and outstanding devotion to duty during the Leyte operation. The manner in which you maneuvered your squad on the 5th of December, 1944, in order to protect the flank of your company is worthy of the highest praise. Again on the 7th of December the manner in which you covered by fire the evacuation of casualties is no doubt responsible for the saving of many lives…”

George was wounded three times within a ten-day period. On January 6, 12, and 16, 1945, he received shrapnel wounds in each leg and at the back of his head. After the war, George returned to Newport. “He made it to Knoxville and then got a ride from there to Newport where he struck out walking up the Asheville Highway. When he got to the intersection down here, he ran all the way home, he was so happy,” says Ruth.

He soon found work at the Tannery, where he remained for many years. Later he worked at Stokely’s and finally at Wood Products. As a handsome, highly decorated war veteran, George had several girlfriends, but he spotted pretty Ruth Caldwell and the two started dating. “We loved the men in uniform,” laughs Ruth, who said the pair had been to a movie at the Winston Theatre. “After we left, he proposed and we got married about six months later.”

At first the couple rented a home from Frank, Jr. and Cleo Huff, but then George was laid off from his job at the Tannery. “He went to Cleveland, Ohio to work in the aluminum company and came home once a month,” says Ruth.

But then Ruth received a chilling telephone call at Fields Restaurant. “George was in the hospital with spinal meningitis,” says Ruth. “I left my babies here and flew up there. He spent a month and a half in the hospital and was off work for two and a half years.” The illness was so severe that “it was about six months before he really knew what was going on.”

The inactivity of being bedfast also left him with withered leg muscles and he had to rely on crutches and a leg brace for a long time. “He didn’t talk much about his war service,” says Ruth, “but he told of the time people thought he was missing in action for awhile. During this time he ate roots to stay alive.”

Perhaps that experience is what left George with his lifelong placidity. “It didn’t take much to satisfy him,” says Ruth. “Nothing much upset him.”

With the safe return of their three sons from war zones in both Europe and Asia, Arthur Morrow’s dire prediction was proven wrong.

“When the boys left,” Ruth says, “he was distraught. He told Novie, ‘Neither one will come back. They’ll all be killed.’ But Novie told him, ‘Oh, no. I’ve been praying. They’ll be back."

And they were, after having done their bit.

* Duay O’Neil is an Assistant Editor of the Newport (TN) Plain Talk newspaper.

Saturday, May 7, 2016

Open Thou Mine Eyes

"Open thou mine eyes, that I may behold wondrous things out of thy law." (Psalm 119:18)

One evening in 1944, as Russian soldier Alexander Zatzepa lay in his foxhole awaiting the call to battle, he came to know the Lord. Knowing he might not return to his safe haven, he wrote the following words...

"Hear me, oh God. Never in my whole lifetime have I spoken to you but just now I feel like sending you my greetings. You know from my childhood on they always told me that you are not. I, like a fool, believed them. I've never contemplated your creation and yet tonight gazing up out of my shell hole, I marvel at the shimmering stars above me and suddenly knew the cruelty of the lie.

Will you, my God, reach your hand out to me? I wonder. But I will tell you and you will understand. Is it not strange that the light should come upon me and I see you amid this night of hell and there is nothing else that I have to say. This though, I am glad that I have learned to know you. At midnight we are scheduled to attack. But you are looking on and I am not afraid.

The signal... well, I guess I must be going. I have been happy with you. This more I would like to say. As you well know the fighting will be cruel and even tonight I may come knocking at your door. Although I have not been a friend to you before, still will you let me enter even now and I do come?

Why am I crying, oh my God, my Lord? You see what happens to me?

Tonight my eyes were opened.

Farewell, my God. I'm going and I am not likely to come back. Strange is it not, but death I fear no longer."


Alexander Zatzepa died in that battle, but his words serve as an inspiration to all who read them. He sought and found the very same God I seek daily when I pray. He only met God for the first time in his foxhole, but now he is in Heaven, where he lives for eternity...knowing him.

I've seen a thousand wonders
By sea and mountain, been amazed
I've marveled at a sunset
By storm and thunder, I've been dazed
I've seen men at their finest
And by their greatness, been enthralled
I've seen them at their badest
By their degradation, been appalled
Through microscope and telescope
I've seen the great and small
But it is through the Holy Spirit
I've seen the greatest things of all
He showed me in the Bible
How Jesus bled and died
And how the debt of sin was paid
When He was crucified
Now, when the world oppresses
Above it, let me rise
And to the greatness of thy power, Lord
Open thou mine eyes


Tuesday, April 19, 2016

The Behind Here Person

On this date, April 19, 2009, it was opening day for little league baseball. It was a warm Saturday. Lots of people were there and the smell of hotdogs cooking on the grill permeated the air. Chrissy, my neice, had a t-ball game that day. Her team took the field first and Chrissy's position was hind catcher. When the other teams' coach walked up to the plate with his first batter, Chrissy introduced herself as, "I'm The Behind Here Person!"

Monday, April 11, 2016

Friends, Neighbors and Enemies

In Champ Ferguson's world, many of his once long time friends and neighbors had become his enemies. He despised what the Union army's Camp Dick Robinson stood for. Regardless of who or what they were, he was compelled to target and eliminate those who had been there. That was how he justified murdering William Frogge and Elijah Koger. William was the brother of my great-great-great-grandmother, Nancy Koger. Elijah was her husband.

William had gone to Camp Dick Robinson as a member of the 12th Regiment, Kentucky Volunteer Infantry, Co. D, but contracted the measles during training and was sent home. On November 1, 1861, Ferguson showed up at the Frogge home, eight miles north of Albany. Not suspecting anything, William's wife, Ester, welcomed their friend inside. Because of his illness, William was confined to his bed. ‘I reckon you caught the measles at Camp Dick Robinson,’ Ferguson said just before he shot him dead. He would later claim that he had heard rumors that Frogg was planning to kill him. ‘I told the boys that I would settle the matter by going direct to Frogg’s house and killing him.'

William's brother-in-law, Elijah Koger, had not only also been at Camp Dick Robinson, he had also taken part in a peace conference at Monroe, Tennessee, where both sides from Clinton, Fentress and Overton counties had met to try and end the senseless murder, theft and arson by guerilla gangs that had become commonplace while the regular soldiers were away at war. The peacemakers agreed not to raid in adjoining counties, but the conference was deemed a failure after Ferguson and his men killed four Overton County men on their way back to Albany.

On Sunday morning, June 1, 1862, at Oak Grove, Elijah arose from his bed and headed out to the spring with his wife beside him. Shots rang out as a band of men appeared suddenly out of nowhere. Nancy screamed fo Elijah to run. As he started to flee, Champ Ferguson overtook him and shot him. Elijah continued to run as more shots rang out. By the time he reached a fence fifty yards away, Elijah had been shot more than thirty times. When Nancy reached the fence, the couple's 11-year-old daughter, Sarah, was holding her daddy in her arms. She was covered in blood. He gasped once, but never spoke.

President Abraham Lincoln summarized Ferguson's way of thinking when he wrote, “Each man feels an impulse to kill his neighbor lest he be first killed by him.”

On October 20, 1865, Champ Ferguson was hanged for the murders of William Frogge, Elijah Koger and 51 others. Esther Frogge and Nancy Koger testified at his trial.



Frightened to Death

Mrs. Henry Hargis, wife of a well known farmer living near Somerset, was literally frightened to death by a snake. Mrs. Hargis had taken a jug of water to her husband, who was working in the fields, and was returning to the house when she felt something pulling at her dress from behind, but thinking it only a briar she gave her skirt a flounce to free herself. Instead of a briar there was an enormous copperhead snake attached to it. This snake was killed by Mr. Hargis and on examination it was found that Mrs. Hargis had not been bitten by it. She was so terribly frightened however, that she fell in a faint, followed by delirium, and never regained consciousness, dying in great agony thinking the reptile was still clinging to her and begging piteously to those about her to take it off.

(Wayne County Outlook, June, 16 1904)

Saturday, March 19, 2016

The Sparing

The date was March 19, 1963. Two tornadoes struck minutes apart in Clinton County on this date. It was an unseasonably warm afternoon and it looked like it might rain. A dark cloud loomed on the horizon. Sure enough, along about two o'clock, a strong wind arose, accompanied by much hail and a torrential rainfall. Three-fourths of an inch of rain fell within five minutes.

One tornado struck in the Static, Beaty Creek and Duvall Valley communities. The Maupin United Methodist Church building was knocked six feet off its foundation. The home of Mr. and Mrs. Jack Beard was damaged. She was knocked unconscious but was not badly injured. At almost the same time, a second tornado struck West Albany, ripping the front off Ted Mills' Service Station on the Burkesville Road. Across the street, it brought down the screen at Albany Drive-In Theater. Luther Harlan's Filling Station, Phillips Auto Sales and Wisdom Filling Station were also damaged, as was Ferguson Feed Mill near Albany Cemetery.

Several homes were reported damage, the worst occurring two blocks south of Ted Mills' Service Station at an upstairs apartment at the end of Hopkins Street. In that apartment, a grandmother had sought safety underneath the kitchen table. In one arm was her three-month-old grandson. In the other arm were his two brothers, ages 3 and 4, and a two-year-old sister. I was the three-year-old. There had been almost no advance notice. My grandmother would later say she looked out the window just in time to see a huge black cloud coming straight at us. The apartment we were in was above a garage behind her house. There wasn't enough time to run downstairs to the basement in her home. My grandmother realized that with her arms busy holding her grandchildren, she had no way of holding onto the kitchen table we were all under. She instructed my older brother and I to run to our parents' bedroom and get under the bed, but it was too much for a couple of scared 3 and 4-year-old boys to handle and we went running back to my grandmother.  I can't imagine the thoughts of terror that ran through her mind when she saw us come running back. She only had time to put her arm around us when the tornado hit. Later, she would recall the haunting sound as hundreds of nails were ripped from the wood as the roof came off. I can recall the eerie calm after the storm, where everything seemed to be running in slow motion. Where the ceiling used to be, there was only the sky.

As we began to crawl out from under the table, the front door to the apartment burst open and in walked a strange girl. Her name, I would later discover, was Peggy Pickens. She and a friend had decided to skip school that day and were walking along Hopkins Street when the tornado struck and afterward, came running to the apartment. 22-year-old Weldon Gibson, whose family lived behind us, also ran to our home just seconds after the storm had passed. The stairway leading up to the apartment had been pulled loose from the side of the building, but that didn't stop Peggy and Weldon from climbing up the stairway to help us get out of that apartment. What brave heroes they were that day.



Saturday, March 5, 2016

No Possum in the White House


We have met the enemy and he is us!

The Value of Doing Nothing


"Don't underestimate the value of doing nothing, of just going along, listening to all the things you can't hear, and not bothering."
A.A. Milne

Thursday, March 3, 2016

National Anthem Day

While the anthems of most countries are either martial victory songs, or tend to communicate other laudatory or self-congratulatory sentiments, “The Star Spangled Banner” is unique in its message of endurance and perseverance. It commemorates the ability to withstand attack; enduring and continuing even when the odds are not in our favor.

On March 3, 1931, President Herbert Hoover signed a law making “The Star Spangled Banner,” the National Anthem of the United States of America. And today, we celebrate March 3rd as “National Anthem Day” each year.



Dairy Treat Day in Albany

Thank you, Jesse Collins, for keeping this iconic establishment open an extra 43 years and carrying on the legacy of the famous little scr...