I was born on a stormy night on Friday, March 13, 1914, christened Ruthvan Wellington MORROW. God, what a name! Friday 13th has never worried me because I was not superstitious and I have always loved winter and snow storms when the power and beauty of nature is demonstrated. It was two days before the Ides of March and forty-nine years after the end of the Civil War. (?Geog. bare) My mother was a LICKLIDER and my father was a farmer who never owned a farm. On this day they lived in a small house on my grandfather LICKLIDER'S *1 farm. My father had 3 brothers and one sister.*2 His father was the publisher of a newspaper in Charlestown, Jefferson Co., W.Va. I never saw my grandparents on my father's side. They both died when he was very young. I remember we were always Democrats. I was told that my grandfather MORROW was at one time a member of the West Virginia State Legislature and a delegate to the Democratic National Convention that nominated William Jennings Bryan. I was also told that had Bryan been elected my grandfather would have been his Secretary of State. My mother had three brothers and nine sisters.*3 One of my fathers brothers married one of my mother's sisters.*4 We always seemed to be a lot closer to this family. I had one sister Elizabeth; about two years older then me and two brothers both younger than me.*5 A few months before my first birthday we had to move from my grandfather's farm. One of his sons*6 (my sister calls him the greatest con men of the period) persuaded grandfather to mortgage his farm to finance the LICKLIDER Farm Equipment Corporation. The business failed and the farm had to be sold to pay the debt. This same son must have been also morally bankrupt. Years laters I watched them carry him out in a strait jacket to a mental hospital *7 where he died. It was whispered that he had gotten syphilis when young and had never been adequately treated. We moved to another farm owned by a McQuilkin family.*8 We evidently lived here only a short time before we moved again to another LICKLIDER farm (not older then 18 mo. old). The farm was owned by Albert LICKLIDER one of my mothers cousins who was an English professor in a New England College. I don't remember much about him. I apparently didn't see him very often. Our years here were very happy years in spite of the fact that all of us but my sister caught the flu during the great epidemic in 1917-1918 that killed 20,000,000 people worldwide. We must have been financially secure because we had a registered nurse to care for us. Luckily we all survived. I was soon able to roam the field and woodlands of our present location as well as neighboring woods and thickets. I learned to set box traps for rabbits and sold the meat in Shepherdstown about two miles away. When I was about two years old an event took place on a farm about two miles west of our home. It was across the line in Berkeley County. I didn't know about it at the time but a baby was born (a girl). That event would affect my life for the next eighty or more years.*9 I also had two friends on a farm next to ours. Jack and his sister Dorothy , or Mutt, were near our ages. We had a hole under the dividing fence from our farm which we kept very smooth because we were constantly going back and forth to play with each other. They seemed to be as happy in their childhood as I was but I couldn't see how they were able to tolerate their miserable home life but they could do nothing about it. I remember seeing them out in the field with their mother with her arms around them and soon she disappeared. I later learned that she had been taken to a state mental institution where she spend the rest of her life. I am not sure they ever saw her again. In later years I learned the tragedy of such a situation. The more I saw of their father the better I understood. Jack and Mutt often told me of being beaten with a small fire shovel. They did the cooking and the mending and all the housework. They were poorly dressed and underfed. I don't remember ever seeing their father work. He kept a few cows and butchered them to eat the meat. Later that they found in me the only friend they had and I tried to be just that.
The following short paragraph was some typed notes in the original text: The trip to Scrabble, smoking leaves, walking to school bus and Tim Carter and my seat in front of the bus. Mutt and Shackleford boys. Most of them went to high school. Jack died at early age but Mutt was still living 3 years ago and would be about 80. Never went high school. But intelligent would have gone to college. Father had other plans. (Learning about the birds and bees)
My grandfather LICKLIDER had a very old riding and buggy horse and of course when he lost the farm he either had to sell her or have someone else put her out to pastured. My father volunteered to keep her and she was retired to the pasture. We didn't use her at all. I didn't think she had much spirit and one day Jack my neighbor and friend had to go to a country store about three miles away to get a can of kerosene. So I decided to ride. We went out in the field, caught the horse and put a bridle on her, picked up Jack who was riding behind me and we went to the country store at Scrabble. Jack got his kerosene can filled and since there wasn't any top available for the spout, he stuck a potato over it and got on the horse behind med, held on around my waist with one arm and the can of kerosene in the other. As we trotted along, suddenly I realized the kerosene can was bouncing up and down on the flanks of the horse and she decided she had a lot more spirit then she had through the years. Se ran off. She was uncontrollable. I did all I could to slow her down, but she ran until she was too tired and then went back to a walk. We got home safely. I let Jack off and turned the horse lose in our field. That evening when she came in to the watering trough my father noticed that al the hair on one side was missing and that she smelled very much like kerosene. He knew ______ as he questioned me, he learned what had happened. My sister said and I think I remember, that he gave me the only paddleling I ever remember him giving me. We were probably the first generation of children that rode a school bus and we had to walk about a mile to the school bus. My seat most of the time was in the front of the bus facing the driver which I will explain later. There were two Shackleford boys that got off of the bus at the same time and usually walked down on the road with us. They had a little farther to go to their house. Mutt didn't get along with them very well. They usually got in a fight every evening and Mutt was older, was to much of a match for either one of the boys and they usually went home crying. Mutt and Jack never went to high school. Jack died at an early age, but Mutt was still living a couple of years ago and I went to see her. She looked as desolate as ever and lived in an old house. The porch was falling in, the shutters were hanging, and you could tell she was living with very little food and clothing. Neither of them ever went to high school, and I know they were intelligent and probably they could have gone to college, but their father had other plans for them.
Old Picture Looking at old snapshots I found what appears to be a studio portrait of my first year sitting in a high chair dressed in long white dress probably about six month old. Then there is a picture of my mother feeding the chickens and wearing as customary a very long dress. I am helping her and holding a live duck in my hand. I found other old pictures of our family group. Mother, father, and the four of us. All these pictures were evidence of these secure and happy years. No child could ever have had two more loving parents. I don't remember my mother and father ever having heated arguments or disagreements that today would eventually end in separation. Theirs was deep and very tender love for each other stronger and stronger as the years were by. I never saw my father leave the house if he was going to gone for very long without first kissing my mother. They had many experiences, I mean many reversals, much pain and suffering. Spinoza has said that much suffering, pain either make us bitter or gentle, kind and considerate. Such was certainly the case with my parents. The more they suffered the more gentle they became.
I found also a picture of my first school year in the first grade seated on a desk, white shirt and large black bow tie with my first grade book open on the desk before me. I remember the reading book was "Baby Ray". I learned to read early with no reading problems. I also learned early to spell and became a good speller. There was no radio or TV to distract me and the solitude of an isolated farm was an excellent environment for development of these gifts as will as the fact that my mother had been an elementary school teacher and my father had also been to college. In fact both of them had been well educated had a college education. My father along with his two brothers had gained some local fame in baseball.*10 My father had been the pitcher for Shepherd College and he tried to interest me in baseball with no success. I remember one time he gave me a baseball glove catcher's mitt and pitched to me. I did very well as long as the balls were slow. The first time he threw me a fast ball and a curve I threw the glove down and ran, and since that day I have never been interested in any sports at all. I don't think I ever watched a full baseball game or football game or basketball game except when my grandson *11 played and became such an excellent player breaking all records at his high school. In later years I never had the least interest in sports but as later life shows, the streams and the woods and the fields became my main attraction. In our early schooling we were probably the first generation to ride a school bus. We had to walk about a mile to the bus stop. It was at a farm my brother now owns.*12 There was a large mill on the stream that I was to haunt in years to come. I must have been a very serious problem, an affliction to the bus driver. He had a little seat in front facing him. It was solitary confinement and this became almost my constant bus seat. One evening when I got off the bus after having been put on the seat by the driver I banged my lunch pail against the side of the bus. The driver was very short and fat. The driver turned off the motor and got off the bus and tried to catch me. I fled to my refuge; the steps in the old mill. He could never have made it up those steps. The next morning I was on the seat in front of him. A year later we became very good friends and many times we discussed jokingly of my childhood and when I spoke at a public meeting in the community he was usually there and would compliment me.
I soon began to wonder about my surroundings. I became concerned about those distant mountains. My birth was in the northern most part of the Shenandoah Valley, on the south shore of the Potomac River. I could see to the east the Blue Ridge Mountains, and on clear days to the west the higher ridges of the Appalachians. Within three decades these mountains to the west would become my home. First, the valleys and ridges, and later the mountains of my heart the Appalachian Plateau. My home around Shepherdstown in my early years was south of the Mason-Dixon Line, and the Potomac River on the shores of what was then Virginia, was now West Virginia. It was three miles south of Antietam, scene of one of the bloodiest battles of the Civil War. The Confederate Army crossed the Potomac about two miles from my birth place at Pack Horse Ford and Lee retreated also after of Antietam across the river at this point. My grandfather LICKLIDER remembered many of these events. He was one of those persons who thought Damned Yankee was all one word. Across the river on the Maryland side another historic monument. The C & O Canal which runs from Cumberland, Maryland, to Washington, DC. I remember as a child playing in the old abandoned canal boats. At that time the canal had been closed several years before and during the coming of railroads. And those mountains about which I was so curious in the west. They were to become my home within three decades. First the ridges and the valleys, and later the mountains of my heart the Appalachian Plateau.
There were very few automobiles during my early years. I don't remember when we had our first car. I know it was a Model T Ford. My mother had a saying "that its raining to beat the cars." She must have meant the railroad cars because we lived near the Norfolk and Western Railroad. One of the great events to me on the farm was threshing day when a large steam engine would come puffing in the lane to the farm. All the neighbors would be there to help thresh the wheat and there would be a big dinner. I was too young to help but very observant and it was very exciting.
When I was growing up, I soon came into contact with Negroes. We always had Negros working on the farm. I remember some of them fondly. One was black William and also his mother who we called Aunt Annie. He was a thrifty and progressive Negro and his mother was always with us when babies were born. William and his mother were always with us on special occasions like butchering and threshing. I remember this black women at butchering time especially. She would be seated in the kitchen with a huge tub of hog entrails intestines cleaning them for the casings for stuffed sausage and the bladder for a large sausage maul. Black William was the first Negro I remember that had an automobile an the usually had the latest model and they were always paid for. I used to tell my mother I wanted to be black like William. Negroes never sat down with us in the dining room to eat but always in the kitchens. I liked the days when I could be left in his care because I could eat with him in the kitchen. Years later some of the Negroes would invite me to speak in their churches. After one such church they had a great banquet in the basement but after I spoke everyone went to the basement to eat but I ate alone with all of them standing by watching me eat. They would never consent to eating with a white. On one occasion a Negro working on the farm out in the field dragging plowed ground. I got on the drag and he gave me a chew of tobacco. He was soon carrying me to the house so sick I couldn't stand. The next day he was fired. There were no Negros in our church. There was a balcony. If any Negros would have come they would have been taken up to the balcony. This was probably since this church was built during the slave days when the slaves could come to church with their masters, sit in the balcony of the church, and the same was true of our little theater from the time of silent movies. As long as I remember that there was a balcony in the theater for the Negro customers who liked movies as well as we did. Consequently in later years I used the pulpit and the classroom to promote racial understanding and equality. I look with pride since I played a part in the coming of the Supreme Court decision that ended segregation and provided schools that were supposed to be equal.*13. Maybe some of them (schools) are still seperate, but it was insisted that they have equal educational opportunities. And in the present day it has certainly paid off.
The Farm Education
During my early years I learned so much that I could never have learned in school. This was my early sex education. I learned very little in this field. I know all about it now beginning with my education on the farm. Even in elementary, high school or college but I knew all about it early. I saw hogs, cattle, sheep, and horses mating. I was giving an illustrated slide lecture one day on beaver to an elementary school class and asked the students if there were any questions. One student raised his hand and asked if beaver laid eggs. I answered in the negative. That brought his next question. If they don't lay eggs, where do their babies come from? Though they do not lay eggs they mated like a chicken, but before I could answer his teacher made him shut up. I think she had never married or had any children. I remember holding pigs, lambs, calves, while my father castrated them to remove the testicles by making a small incision. I held thousands of chickens for my father to caponize them, which is removing the testicles by making a small incision on one backside, removing them (testicles) with treezers. The testicle a little smaller than the end of your little finger.
I learned soon a lot about horses. A horse gets very excited and hard to control if a saddle girth slips back on his flanks. I learned the use of and names of much farm equipment before the coming of motorized equipment such as differences in harnesses for work horses and buggy horses, the purpose of a collar for plowing and on the wagon where the traces that go back to the hitching are located, wheat binder, the hanes that fit neatly into collar. I learned the difference between the single tree, the double tree and triple tree one for each of the one, two, or three horses being used, steel plow with plow shares and mole board and to the mole board kept shiny at all times by coating it with grease, when not in use. The mole board is the part of the plow that turns the soil out of the furrow so neatly, as you can see in a freshly plowed field, the difference between single shovel and double shovel plow, one to make a furrow for planting and the other to cultivate. I learned to cultivate with a single shovel plow that is used to make furrows for planting and the double shovel plan that is used for cultivation. I learned to milk by hand, we never had milkers, and run the milk through a separator that separates the cream from the milk. The skimmed milk is used mostly to make schmier kase (cottage cheese) or to mix for hog feed, for the feeding of hogs. Speaking of schmier kase, I remember coming home from school in the evenings and seeing a cloth salt sack hanging on the clothes line and dripping, inside would be cottage cheese after my mother added a little pure cream. We used two horse wagons to go to the mill to take yellow and white corn and wheat to mill to be ground into wheat flour and corn meal. To take horses on roads in these years as automobile began to appear. Many accidents occurred because horses were out of control if they met autos or were near R. R. tracks when trains went by. We learned a little about the culture we were living in through a small weekly newspaper and early silent movies. The little theater had a large organ pit under screen so the organist could watch the scenes and play the music to fit the scenes on the screen. He could always tell and he knew enough about music to always have something that could be played for ever emotion portrayed on the screen. He could detect the music to be played by watching the scenes. For an example, I remember in westerns for the fast action he played a selection from the William Tell Overture, especially when cowboys were being chased by Indians or other scenes like this. For tragic and sad scenes the music would bring tears to your eyes. Most of the movies were westerns. Most kids who grew up in these years remember Hoot Gibson, Tom Mix, William S. Hart, Charlie Chaplin. W. C. Fields, Buster Keating, Rudolph Valentino, Mary Pickford. The comedies were what became later to be called slapstick. We had a small teachers college *14 in the community. Many of the students came down to our valley from Appalachia, as far away as the Appalachian Plateau, to at least stay two years to get a teachers certificate. They probably thought they were coming into an ultra modern culture. They would soon learn and fast.
There were many terms we did not know because they were not in our small dictionaries. I remember that most farms were isolated. These were days when 1/3 of the families in the U.S. lived on farms while today only 2 % live on farms. Not many farm families had telephones yet, except very rarely, and in rural live we had very little experience to the kind of culture flurishing in larger towns and in larger cities. In my first years and a decade later, we were a rural culture.There were a lot of things we had never heard of: credit cards, filling stations, motel, fast food, transmission, TV, VCR, daylight savings, rest home, sex education, radiation, pollution, ecology;
We never saw a wild turkey, a deer, bear, or beaver. These had become extinct but plenty rabbits and quail. We knew nothing about DNA, viruses, sulfa drugs, penicillin, antibiotics, shopping malls, nuclear waste, weed eaters, rototiller tractors, combines, corn pickers, riding lawn mowers, because they were not on the farm, and nas as many hard cored lawn nuts as there are today. Here events ___?_ hand care lawn __?___ as there are today. There was no rotation of crops, no environmental protection, no refrigerators or freezers. No electricity for farms until the 1930's and Rural Electricity Administration (REA). We had never heard of a guidance councilor, nor pupil personnel people to investigate school absentees and talk to parents about problems their had children in school. I never remember ever hearing the term mental illness. People were simply crazy and were sent to a state insane asylum. Babies were all born at home, never in a hospital because there were so few hospitals and many so home remedies the mothers knew all about.
Threshing and Butchering
One of the exciting days on the farm was threshing wheat. Usually in the evening before the day of threshing, a large steam tractor almost as big as a R.R. locomotive could be seen creeping at very slow pace in the lane. It would be pulling the thresher (we called the box). It too was a very large large piece of machinery, and behind the box a small trailer with two large barrels. These barrels would be kept full of water to keep the engine supplied. The farmer would have a small pile of coal to be used to keep up the steam. The box would be backed into the upper story of the barn. Most barns were large bank barns. They had two stories. On the lower story at ground level would be several stables for horses, sheep, and cows. The upper floor would have on each side a large mow for hay and grains. Usually the grain when dry would be hauled into the barn out of the field and stored in one of the mows. Several workers, usually neighbors, would pitch the grain from the mow down to two men who pitched it into the thresher. The grain must be dry. Wet grain or hay if wet could result in spontaneous combustion and he barn would burn. Many barns burned as a result of this. The wheat was in sheaves and stacked in shocks in the field at harvest time. The binder cut and tied the sheaves and usually required three or four horses to pull. The thresher had a large metal pipe about 18 inches in diameter that could blow the straw and chaff out the upstairs door or window and blow the straw into the barn yard to be used for bedding in the stables. There was a lot of noise and clouds of dust. No one ever thought of wearing a mask. When I was old enough to work it was either in the mow or at the bagger out of which the wheat would pour out, and I was glad as would every farmer, to see the bags of wheat pile up. Neighbors would help each other, and we would go back and help them when they began to thresh, during the one or two days of threshing and butchering in the fall. Years later after I left the farm this was all done with a combine. I have often wished that during the years that I have had as a fee lance photographer I would have had a camera in those days that would have taken colored pictures.
Corn Cutting Time in the Fall
Corn cutting took place during the hot dry days of autumn when the corn was ripe and dry. I learned how dry blades of corn can cut your face. You had to cut by hand with a corn cutting knife. The corn was cut and put into a large shock. Later these shocks would be pushed over and the corn would be husked with a small knife like gadget (husker) with leather binding attached to your hand. It wasn't sharp but it was used to start peeling off the husks from an ear of corn. The corn would be put into piles and hauled to the barn or a shed and stored for winter for future use as feed to animals, especially to fatten hogs for butchering. We had not yet learned about cholesterol and put a large layer of fat on hogs, by feeding with an ample supply of corn, to butcher, usually took place in November. Winter wheat was usually planted in fields that had grown corn and by corn husking time the wheat would be coming up. It would be covered during the winter snows and by Easter should be high enough to conceal a rabbit. A rabbit could hide in it, and that took a pretty good stand of wheat. All of these farm activities required an adequate labor force. With the coming of mechanized farming farm hands have disappeared and many boys did not stay on the farm, but went to college and joined professional careers or service industry or the armed forces. As a free lance photographer I have used colored slides of these farm activities as lectures in history, ecology, and science. One of the most beautiful pictures I have is of row after row of corn in the shocks with heavy bright yellow piles of corn by each shock. I am always on the look-out for instances where small farm operate as we did in the early years of the 20th. century. They are pretty hard to find. -Not two long ago I was able to get a series of picture on old time hog butchering.
Butchering
By November the mornings were usually very frosty with the temperatures around 20 degrees. For months the hogs had been stuffed with corn and skimmed milk mixed with bran. The hogs were ready for the kill. In the evening before butchering heavy leaning poles were set up and another pole was put up in the V of the scaffolding to hang the butchered hog on. Two large iron kettles set up with an ample supply of wood to keep the fire under the pots burning. A trench was dug eight or nine feet long , a large supply of dry wood was laid nearby and over the trench a large metal tank about two feet deep, two feet wide and six or seven feel long was set in place over the trench. The tank would be filled with water for scalding the hogs after they were killed. The trench under the tank would be the fire box. Long before daylight we would be up starting the fire under the tank and have what we would need for the kill at the hog pen. This consisted of sharp knives, a 22 caliber rife, and a flat horse drawn sled. The hogs were not fed the evening before or on the morning before butchering. The rifle was used to stun the hogs. It did not always kill them, but dropped them in their tracks. Quickly with the hog turned on its back a long sharp knife would be plunged into the chest and slanted downward to reach the heart. The blood would gush out like a fountain. Usually for our family of six we would kill about six large fat hogs. By large I mean 250 pounds or more. Two or three hogs would be killed at one time, loaded on the sled and hauled to the lot back of the farm house. By this time the water in the large tank was hot enough for scalding. The hog would be lowered into the scalding hot water with the chains across the tank similar to a casket being lowered into a grave. When the hair slipped without being pulled the hog was properly scalded. It must not be too much or too little. I must write from my memory because there are few people in my area today who would know any details of butchering. Scalding the hog is the most critical part in butchering hogs. This is similar to picking feathers from a chicken-just enough but not too much time in scalding water, just enough that the feathers slip off easily. Too hot and the skin would be partially cooked. So it is with scalding a hog. Just enough that the hair will slip off easily. Of course not many people anymore have ever picked a chicken, let alone scalded a hog. The hog is pulled out of the water and scraped vigorously and then hung on the poles, rear feet first, through the sinews of the back legs. It is then washed thoroughly and the dressing process if begun. This consists of cutting off the feet and opening the body cavity starting at the anus and down to the throat. The head is cut off and cleaned of all skin, meat, and ears. The ears and parts of the feet are made into souse, also contained the jaws or jowls. Most of the feet are eaten as they are or pickled. Many people dispose of the skull. At an early age I learned how to remove the brains as one complete organ, almost like cracking a nut and getting out the kernel. Fortunately my wife who was also brought up on the farm like me relishes the brains of a hog or veal. We still buy them at the market when we can find them. The pancreas of the hog is also removed and this delicacy is also eaten. Much of this foods were eaten and many still are, before we had heard about cholesterol or heard of fat in foods. In fact we didn't know much about vitamins yet. When young we didn't know but had suspicion that the anatomy of hog is similar to the anatomy of man. In biology we would say homo sapiens. When the stomach, intestine, heart, and liver as well as sweet breads were removed. The hog was sawed into halves, sawing down the spinal column. The halves were carried to a large table, and seven or eight men with a sharp knives removed the hams, shoulders, rib cage, back bone, loins, we called them tenderloins, which were then filleted, about the same as filet migon in a beef, a deer, a calf, or a lamb. The loins would be canned. Today they would be stored in the freezer. The ribs with the half part of the backbone still attached would be put in the smoke house with the hams, shoulders and spare ribs and sugar cured and smoked with ham and shoulder. All of the lean meat would be ground and would be stuffed by a hand operated stuffer into the cleaned intestine or casings. In the kitchen our black Aunt Annie would have cleaned casings ready to stuff sausage mixed first with salt, pepper, and usually sage. Her job was the only thing that would be done inside in the warm kitchen. All the other operations were done outside. Some of the more fatty lean meat, along with kidneys and liver would be ground to make pudding. This meat would be emptied into an large iron pot and cooked thoroughly, seasoning it with salt and pepper. After it was cooked it was stained off all the fat and stored in 1 gal. crocks. There was still enough fat in it to come to the top and congeal into a thick topping of lard and stored in a cool dry place, sometimes the smoke house. The broth left in the iron pot would be mixed with corn meal, seasoned, and poured into flat containers to make ponhaus. When solidified it could be sliced and fried. Today too, you find it at the market as scrapple. By this time the thick fat had been removed from the skin just as you would fillet a fish and cut into small squares and dumped into the second iron pot and cooked until the fat was completely liquefied. It would then be strained and emptied into large lard cans. When it congealed if would be pure lard and almost as white as snow. The skin had also been put in the pot and what was left after the lard was removed would be pressed in a press and formed cakes about an inch thick and 8 inches in diameter and usually fed to the chickens. We called these the cracklings. After the neighbors had helped clean the pots, knives, scrapers, meat saws, dumped the scalding tank and given some fresh meat they would depart. Later my father would help them at their butchering day. When it was all done the women in the kitchen would be singing the doxology but in my father would be in the smoke house sugar curing the hams, shoulders and ribs. I think he used brown sugar, salt, pepper, saltpeter. I think he may have also used alum. The meat would be placed on a large table and rolled in the ingredients and then rubbed some smoky hand over would be strung the last link of stuffed sausage. Later the meat would dried and smoked with hickory wood for weeks. My father must have been an expert at this because he also cured the meat for all the neighbors. During my lifetime since I left the farm I have never tasted ham like my father used to cure. None of hams we buy, which are suppose to be sugar cured, taste like his. In fact most of the food we buy today which is advertised as home made is a big disappointment.
*1 Edward Templin LICKLIDER of Shepherdstown, WV. The
farm was located about 2 miles west of Shepherdstown on the road to
Kearneysville. (DWM)
*2 Father, Ruthvan W. MORROW, Shepherdstown; brothers Joseph Walton
MORROW, Winchester, WV, Everett Walton MORROW, FL, William Hamilton
MORROW,
Hagerstown, Md; sister, Mary Morrow CAMPBELL. (DWM)
*3 Mother, Louise Moore LICKLIDER; brothers, Harry Templin LICKLIDER,
Charles William LICKLIDER, and Edmund Lee LICKLIDER, Edward
Grandison LICKLIDER; sisters, Mary Amanda LICKLIDER, Betty Butler LICKLIDER,
Florence Eggleton LICKLIDER WADE, Anna Virginia LICKLIDER MORROW,
Samanna Entler LICKLIDER MANUEL, Ruth LICKLIDER TUCKER, Helen LICKLIDER
BIDDLE, Reika LICKLIDER MORROW.
*4 William Hamilton MORROW m. Reika LICKLIDER. (DWM)
*5 Sister Mary Elisabeth MORROW BUSEY, Martinsburg, WV; Edward
Moore MORROW, Martinsburg; Henry Walton MORROW Sr., Shepherdstown,
WV. (DWM)
*6 Unsure of this uncle's name at this time. (DWM)
*7 Shepherd-Pratt Hospital in Baltimore, MD. (DWM)
*8 Edward "Ned" MORROW says her was born on this farm. (DWM)
*9 This was to be his wife o 61 years, Martha Virginia MYERS b. 16
Jan 1916. (DWM)
*10 Joseph and Everett MORROW. (DWM)
*11 Bret Alan RICE at Southern High School in Oakland, Garrett
Co., MD (DWM)
*12 Billmyer Mill Farm, on Rocky Marsh Run, which is the dividing line
between Berkeley and Jefferson Counties. Henry MORROW m. Barbara Lemon
Williams. The farm was her homeplace. (DWM)
*13 He is referring with to the decision of the Tucker County, WV, Board
of Education, of which he was a member at the time, to bring the only black
student from Thomas, WV, home to attend high school in his own community. Before
the Supreme Court Decision, that student had to go to school in another town
that had an all black high school. In this student's case, I believe he attended
a school in Keyser, WV, 40 to 50 miles away from Thomas. The editor does not
remember the exact circumstance, but I believe the vote was very close, and R.W.
was the deciding vote in favor of allowing the student to enter school at
Thomas. (DWM)
*14 Shepherd State College, Shepherdstown, WV. (DWM)
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