New Kid in the Neighborhood

My parents, circa 1956

The house we lived in on Dalton Street was a nice place. My parents rented the frame house from Jake and Louise Moore. The house had a living room, dining room, kitchen, two bedrooms, a bath, front and back porches, and a detached frame garage. 

My father was an active member of the Lions Club, with perfect attendance at their meetings for 35 years. (I have the plaque that the chapter awarded to him.) He served as secretary and treasurer for many years, and he had a whole desk and file cabinet to store the copious amount of paper that entailed. 

The Lions Club's big fundraiser was organizing and operating the county fair each year. It was a huge event held in September each year. That was perfect timing for weather, farmers had money from the tobacco and other crops they had harvested and sold, and few people were taking family vacations because school was back in session.

It wan't unusual for our family to make a side trip while on a vacation to stop by a fair or carnival in progress somewhere. There my father would meet with the owners, talk to midway acts and concessionaires, and book (or not book) specific shows. I know that he enjoyed visiting the "girlie shows" at each stop, much to the consternation of my mother.

Dad also was responsible for ordering the fireworks and arranging for people to handle the nightly fireworks displays. One year, however, there was a problem with where to store the fireworks when the shipment arrived. Dad didn't hesitate to have the semi truck to deliver the fireworks to our house and unload them for storage in the one-car, frame garage. When my mother came home from work that night there was another type of fireworks! She was not going to have that stockpile of explosives stored in the garage. It was one of the worst arguments I ever heard between my parents! Telephone calls were made and members of the Lions Club descended on our little garage with pickup trucks to relocate the fireworks to some warehouse space that my father had quickly located. That story became legendary in my hometown.

I settled into the new neighborhood. There were other young people around. The Gaskills lived next door with two sons, one a year older than I was and one two years younger. We became pals. There were several early teenaged girls in the neighborhood, one of whom was named Joyce Robertson. She was a beautiful blonde and I adored her. She was very kind to me, and she and Suzie and I visited her house around the corner often. It was there that I heard a 45 rpm record that I used my allowance to buy for myself. It was Frankie Avalon singing "Venus" and I played the record all the time. 

Suzie and I visiting in front of Joyce's house.

Suzie and I were inseparable. Wherever I went, she trotted along. Wherever she went, I followed. In fact, when my mother was close to having dinner ready or otherwise wanted me home, she would go out onto the back porch and whistle a distinctive vacillating two notes. Suzie would start home and I, of course, followed her.  

By the way, I still keep in touch with Joyce through Facebook - under her married name!

I began first grade in the local elementary school. My first teacher was Mrs. Thelma Gatling, one of the kindest and most loving teachers I ever know. She did not appreciate the fact that I loved to talk, and she sent me to the corner in the classroom as punishment. I apparently spent a lot of time there because, as she told it, she sent another student to that corner for some infraction. She said that I cried because she had given "my corner" to someone else. She apparently didn't recognize that I was a budding trainer and lecturer!

I was selected to be the postman in first grade to deliver Valentine's cards in our classroom. I was heartbroken because I was sick and couldn't be there. It turned out that I had come down with chicken pox, measles, and a case of impetigo, all at the same time. My mother didn't know where one rash, blister, or sore stopped and another began. I remember well that she made multiple quarts of boiled custard and refrigerated it, and that was my primary sustenance for many days. I was "quarantined" in my brother's bedroom for the duration. That was fine. My brother, Carey, was 11 years and 51 weeks older than I and had gone off to college at Wake Forest the same fall that I began first grade.

I knew everyone in the neighborhood by name for several blocks around. I wasn't shy, and I learned a lot about people and their lives at a young age.  I knew everyone's names, which persons worked and where, or if they were retired. I addressed the adults as Mr. Price, or Mrs. Smith, or Miss Morton, or my the more familiar form of Mr. Bob or Miss Helen. I knew which people "drank" or didn't attend church. I sometimes arrived at their homes unannounced for a visit, and I had spontaneous conversations with them all. 

(c) 2016 George G. Morgan

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My Parents Married Twice!

I think we all expect that our parents were married, and married once. However, that was not the case with mine. 

My father's name was Samuel Thomas Morgan, and he was born on 18 December 1909 in Mebane, Alamance County, North Carolina. His parents were Samuel Goodloe Morgan, born 6 April 1879, and Laura Augusta "Minnie" Wilson Murphy (widow of Jeter Earnest Murphy), born 24 January 1873. My father's parents were married on 24 December 1902 in Mecklenburg County, North Carolina, My father had one older sister, Mary Allen Morgan, who was born on 14 June 1905.

My mother's name was Sara Edith Weatherly, and she was born on 10 July 1910 in Rome, Floyd County, Georgia. Her parents were Walton Carey Weatherly, born 24 September 1882, in Cleveland, Bradley County, Tennessee, and Elizabeth Holder, born 19 July 1885, in  Lindale, Floyd County, Georgia. My mother was the second of four sisters: 

• Nita Elizabeth "Beth" Weatherly, born 27 March 1910 in Rome, Georgia
• Sara Edith "Edith" Weatherly, born 10 July 1911 in Rome, Georgia
• Carolyn Penelope "Nep" or "Neppie" Weatherly, born 12 January 1914 in Rome, Georgia
• Harriette Ann "Harriette" Martin Weatherly, born29 September 1917 in Mebane, North Carolina

My Grandfather Weatherly had moved from Rome, Georgia, to Mebane, North Carolina, in April 1914 to accept a position as treasurer of White Furniture Company and purchased a home there. His wife and three daughters followed soon after.

My parents met in Mebane in the local public school. At first, my father dated my mother's older sister, Beth, but later focused on Edith. They were in love and ultimately wanted to marry. Unfortunately, my mother was underage. They eloped to Danville, Virginia, on 15 January 1931 where my mother lied about her age. My father also lied about his place of birth for some reason. Here is an image from FamilySearch.

They returned to Mebane and acted as if nothing had happened, and they continued to live apart.

At some point, Edith's father found out about the illegal marriage and was livid. He demanded that they be married again in Mebane, legally this time. My mother asked if she could be married at the First Baptist Church there, and her father told her, "No!" She was to be married at home instead. The marriage took place on 24 January 1933. Here is an image from FamilySearch.

As a result of the clandestine elopement and marriage, my Grandfather Weatherly held a very low opinion of my father for the remainder of his life. By this time, the Great Depression was in full swing. My father had earlier attended Davidson College and Duke University but withdrew from Duke when his parent's finances - which had been considerable - collapsed. I'll share more about that situation in other posts.

There are no wedding photographs of either of my parents' weddings.

Early Years ...

My first few years were spent in the house on 346 H W Circle in Madison, North Carolina, and Suzie was with me constantly. My mother didn't want the dog sleeping in the house, but you might be surprised how many nights she was let in, especially in colder weather.

My father's mother was named Laura Augusta Wilson at birth, but everyone referred to her as Minnie for her entire life. Here she is at the right holding me in her lap. She was as pleased with that as I apparently was. She was never the motherly (or grandmotherly) type. The rules in our house were to be quiet when she was anywhere around, and to only speak when spoken to.

I learned when I was just beginning my family research that my grandmother had been married twice! She married Jeter Earnest Murphy on 2 February 1898 at a ceremony at my great-grandparents' home in the Lemley's District of Mecklenburg County, North Carolina. It was a short-lived marriage because Jeter came down with typhoid fever in June. After a slight recovery, he died in Statesville, Iredell County, North Carolina, on 9 July 1898. Minnie returned home to her parents' home to live. She inherited nothing from Jeter. 

She married my grandfather, Samuel Goodloe Morgan, on 24 December 1902, also at her parents' home. He was born on 6 April 1879 in Caswell County, North Carolina, and he died on 3 March 1953 in Madison, Rockingham County, just 6 months after I was born. He suffered from dementia in his final years and always seemed to think, so I am told, that my name was Sam - named after him. His dementia sometimes resulted in his wandering out of the house naked. Since they lived less than a block from the main street of Madison, he did stroll down the main street stark naked a few times.

Minnie was born on 24 January 1873. She lied about her age her entire life. Every US federal census from 1900 through 1940 shows that she has aged less than ten years. I sometimes joke that it was she who invented "new math."

We'll get to my parents, my older brother, my father's sister, and my mother's family later. Suffice it to say now that my parents and brother were shadowy personalities around me at this early age. I didn't really interact with my father; it was primary with my mother that I was bonding. I have little memory of my brother until I was five or six years old. He probably avoided the little baby brother.

Christmas was exciting because of presents, Santa Claus, and all that. I recall the tree on the round table in the living room. I still have that round table in our home.

I'm told by my brother that, just before I was born, there was a family discussion. Would we buy our first television or a new washer for Mother to launder my diapers. You guessed it! My father and brother won out and there was a television. I'm told we were among the first in the neighborhood to have one, and that neighbors would come over on Friday or Saturday evenings to watch. The women would bring food and the men would bring beer. The fact that Uncle Miltie (Milton Berle) sometimes dressed up as a woman probably explains why I've always enjoyed seeing drag shows!


We weren't in that house too long. We moved into town when I was less than three years old. I vividly remember that day! It was March and the sky was clear and brilliant blue. My father owned a green Chevy with whitewall tires. I suppose that there was a moving truck. However, I rode in the back seat of the car with my parents up front. (Who knows where my brother was?!) I was allowed to hold the precious lamp from my mother's dressing table. The base was what I supposed were Romeo and Juliet entwined in an embrace. Somehow I was entrusted with this treasure and held it tightly. The move was a big adventure for me. We moved into our house at 229 North Dalton Street in Madison on what was called Kemoka Hill, overlooking the Southern Railway tracks and the bottoms of the flood plain for the Mayo and Dan Rivers. It was a new beginning with new neighbors and new kids.

My First Memories

The first house I remember living in was at what is now 346 H W Circle in Madison, North Carolina. It was on the east side of the Dan River, a very small two-bedroom frame house. The heating system was oil-fueled forced air, and there was a metal grill duct in the center of the house. It was in the hallway outside the bathroom and bedrooms. I remember standing on the grill in my blue footed pajamas, feeling the warm air blowing up around me.

The house had a small kitchen which I also remember. My mother hired an African-American woman to clean and to take care of me while my parents worked. Her name was Colleen and I loved her very much. Each weekday morning she made me sit and eat breakfast, but this was not an easy task. The Captain Kangaroo television show would come on the television in living room. I just had to run in to help the Captain wake up Grandfather Clock. I still remember that vividly, and that show was central to my young mornings.

We also had a cocker spaniel named Suzie. She really was my older brother's dog but she and I became inseparable. Here are two photos taken of me and Suzie when I was about 2 and Suzie was about 3. These were taken outside that house's back steps.

There were other children in the neighborhood, notably three girls with whom I liked to visit and play: Jan, Judy, and Donna (Judy's younger sister). There was another boy, Jimmy, who was a little older. We had the run of this little neighborhood. It was a good time.

In the beginning ...

I often refer to myself as a "rabid genealogist" and I believe the term fits. 

My Grandmother Morgan and her daughter, my Aunt Mary Allen Morgan, got me interested in our family history when I was 9 years old. It changed my life completely. I suddenly became very interested in history and geography, wanting to know where my people had lived, what they were like, how events of their times affected them, and how they participated in their communities. I wanted to know the context of their lives! My interest has never waned and, as I continue my research, I learn something or find some new evidence of someone's live each and every day.

As I begin this blogging endeavor, I first want to preserve stories about people and events as I saw them or as I remember them. Even though the family members whose stories I share may not have been my contemporaries, I want to help preserve the details of their lives. And yes, there will be genealogy, history, geography, photographs. documents, and other components that I'll share. There will even be personal stories included to help me remember and record some experiences.

I cannot commit to being a daily blogger, but I will do my best. I hope you'll enjoy the memories I share, and I encourage you to start a blog to do the same with your own memories.