Saturday, August 7, 2010

Andrew Frisk's Interview with Carol 3.21.2010


Author’s Note: Carol Murphey is my mother’s oldest sister and my favorite aunt. She is 70 years old and lives in Burgess, Virginia (about two hours southeast of Fredericksburg) with her second husband, Tom Murphey. Her oldest granddaughter, Kate Marsh, is a junior at UMW.
Andrew: Let’s start with some basic biographical facts.

Carol: I was born [Carol Clemo] in Pampa, Texas, November 26, 1939. My father worked for Shell Oil in the oil fields as a petroleum engineer. My mother was from Long Beach, California. Originally my father was from Tooele, Utah. His parents moved to Long Beach in the early 1930s and my grandfather worked for Shell Oil also as a boilermaker. My dad went to Long Beach City College and then transferred to Stanford. My mother graduated from Wilson High School in Long Beach, then went to Stanford also and that’s where they met. I have one brother and two sisters, one of whom is really a cousin, but her mother died early and we adopted her when she was five. She came to us from Paris where her mother was a journalist for [the magazine] Paris Match and when she came to us after her mother died she spoke no English so it was a very interesting familial relationship. We now of course think of her as our sister, she lives in Fresno, and has two [grown] daughters. Julie (that’s her name) is one year older than my youngest sibling, Susan [author’s mother]. We have one other sibling, Tom, who was born six years after me. There was a six year hiatus because of the war [World War II]. I was born in ’39; he was born in ’45. My father was away most of that time in the South Pacific as the commander of a variety of minesweepers off the Australian coast, most of which got shot out from underneath him. The only thing he really regretted about it was not the sharks, but that he lost his best watch. Let’s see, biographical, my grandparents on my father’s side were originally from Pennsylvania and my grandmother [Martha] actually came from Pennsylvania to Montana on a covered wagon and my grandfather [William] learned his trade as a boilermaker in Butte, Montana (the world’s largest hole in the ground) and my grandmother had four sisters and no brothers. Martha’s sisters included Jane, a milliner; Lil, a housewife; and Ede, who worked in a cigar store all her life. One of the sisters, Gundry, was actually a cousin whom they adopted because her parents had died. My great aunt, Ede Webster (which was the family’s last name), didn’t marry until she was in her sixties and she married an absolute toad of a man. Um, let’s see, my [paternal] grandfather’s family: I don’t know a whole lot about but originally they were from Wales and that’s where the name Clemo originates, in Wales, so you can call us Welsh if you choose. Um, let’s see, my [paternal] grandmother [Martha] and grandfather [William] married and moved to Tooele [Utah] which is now a ghost town, by the way, and at their wedding, the bride, my grandmother, Martha Webster, was kidnapped by my grandfather’s “buddies” and they didn’t tell him where she had gone for two days and he was ready to strangle someone, but my grandmother thought it was a great lark, she thought it was funny. There’s a newspaper article that I have in the archives that tells the story. Um, my mother’s family was originally from Virginia and they moved to Kansas and were farmers, “momo” and “popo” were my [maternal] grandmother’s parents and they farmed in Kansas and they were fairly successful and when my [maternal] grandfather wanted to start a lumberyard, even back then it was union and he refused to be involved with any union, so he [moved to and] started one up in Long Beach, California. My [maternal] grandparents lived on Roswell Avenue [in Long Beach] and had two daughters, my aunt Mary Alice and my mother, Maxine, both of whom pre-deceased their parents, which was a great sadness for our family but the outcome for my aunt Mary Alice was one son, Michael Mitchell, and one daughter, Julie (now Gray) whom we adopted. My aunt was divorced right after Julie was born; two different fathers, one of them from Stanford, the first one Mike’s father. Julie’s father was a ne’er-do-well but boy, was he good looking. [He] spent some time in Chino [California Institution for Men, a male-only state prison located in the city of Chino, San Bernardino County, California], and that’s why she [Mary Alice] went to Paris, to escape his abuse, but unfortunately soon after her return from Paris, she had one of the first open heart surgeries, in Denver, and unfortunately again, died on the table, so that’s when we got my cousin, Julie. My [maternal] grandfather’s parents I know absolutely nothing about. My grandfather [Ross Hall] was a twin and we’ve always been looking for twins in our family and, fortunately or unfortunately, one never appeared. Grandfather Hall was very active in the [Long Beach] community, headed up the Red Cross, was a coast watcher during the war and he and my grandmother [Chlora] had no other children but the two girls [Maxine and Mary Alice]. Probably shouldn’t go into the details of the sordid side of it but I don’t know how much you’re going to edit or re-phrase or whatever but I think that’s a pretty full biographical sketch.

Andrew: What was it like when Bill, your father, was gone in the war [World War II]?

Carol: When Bill was gone, we lived in a little tiny house in Long Beach, where they still brought ice, the ice man still came with his great big tongs and he put a great big sign in the window that said you needed ice and he put it in the ice box in the refrigerator. When he came home from sea there was a lot of hilarity, you know, he would lean back in the chair and it would break and deposit him on the floor promptly. When he went back to sea, we would take him down to the ship and I would throw up all over his new uniform, which was standard. It was not lonesome, I wasn’t lonesome, I mean I missed him but shortly after that we moved into my [maternal] grandparent’s house because mother was pregnant with my brother Tom and I vividly remember her leaving for the hospital because I was hiding under the bed and I thought she would never come back. But, um, she did, and he did and everybody was fine.

Andrew: So he went to war when you were how old?

Carol: He went to war in ’41, so I was two.

Andrew: When was your first job and what was it?

Carol: Oh, gosh. Not counting baby-sitting, I first worked for a realtor in Long Beach, Charles Drake was his name, and it was totally boring. I sat in the office and he ran around town all day long and we didn’t have computers so there were no games to play so I read. It was awful, I hated it, but he was a neighbor and he needed some help and my dad said “Oh, you can do this,” so I did. Next one was really fun; I worked in a bottling factory. Libby Owens Bottling in South Los Angeles and we worked day, night, day swing and night shifts each week so you never knew what time of the day it was, it was amazing. I was on the top floor making boxes that they put the bottles in on the line on the floor down below us. I would get a paycheck and go to the lumber yard and have my dad [Bill] cash it and then me and my buddies would all go to the beach and get totally fried, totally sun-burned, totally stupid, I shouldn’t do that, I’m a red head, totally stupid, but you know you’re 17, what are you going to do?

Andrew: Did you ever work in your dad’s lumberyard?

Carol: No, no, there were no women allowed in the lumberyard. Maybe as Harriet Homeowner, buying a pair of hinges, but that was about it. The lumberyard catered mostly to people who had to re-do historic houses because it was the last covered yard anywhere in the area and they kept a lot of exotic woods and they had a mill in the back with equipment that nobody should be around. OSHA would never approve of it nowadays. One time I can remember my dad pushed a saw [that was] still whirling back against the wall and it bounced back and almost cut off his thumb. That hand wasn’t quite right after that.

Andrew: That’s interesting that he did not allow women in the lumberyard. Were there any other places where you found that women were not allowed?

Carol: They didn’t mind me in the bottling factory, but they did try to recruit union members and I knew my father would’ve shot me if I would’ve done that so every time the union organizer came around, he had a handicapped leg, so I would have to run and hide somewhere because I was not going to be signed up to join a union. But, I was between my freshman and sophomore year in college, so I was still spry.

Andrew: Why was he so against unions?

Carol: That’s a social question. I think unions (and I agree with him) had their purpose early on but I think they’ve become, and he thought they had become, much too powerful and too controlling. I think their original purpose was fine but eventually they sort of out-lived their purpose. If we were to get rid of them all now it would not be a good thing, but perhaps if we got rid of them all, they would start up again in their original intent. For instance, Volkswagen builds cars in the United States and Canada, none of them are union, and the other car companies cannot compete. For instance, the smart car has no dealerships. They’re sold direct, no unions involved, no advertisements involved. It’s just an interesting theory.

Andrew: How old were you when you moved from Texas to Long Beach?

Carol: Oh, I was only two but I do remember we had an external air conditioner [for the car]. I don’t know if any of you could possibly remember it; it looked like a round vacuum tube and it stuck outside the driver, no, the passenger side window and you rolled the window up and it blew cool, not cold, air into the automobile.

Andrew: I don’t think any of us remember that.

Carol: No, I don’t think you do.

Andrew: When did they switch, do you know?

Carol: I have no idea

Andrew: So you were in Long Beach until you went to Stanford?

Carol: Yeah, correct. I went to Stanford in ’57. Graduated from high school in June of ’57 and then started Stanford. I had to take the train from Long Beach to Stanford and I can remember exactly what I was wearing and it was way too formal for when I got there but my mother had different ideas – a hat and gloves.

Andrew: So during breaks, like during Christmas, you took the train back?

Carol: Usually I had a friend who would give me a ride back to Long Beach but some of the most fun rides of my life were from Stanford to Long Beach because, um, that Pea Soup place in, it’s a Scandinavian name. I remember the name of the town. But they sold homemade split pea soup and strawberry wine and you rode along Route 1 along the ocean.

Andrew: Andersen’s.

Carol: Andersen’s split pea – with an “en.” It’s an absolutely beautiful drive.

Andrew: How ‘bout your first marriage?

Carol: First marriage, yeah. I got married when I was 19 [and] still in school [Stanford]. Naturally, I got pregnant first so [my husband’s] ship left the day after the wedding. My husband was in the Navy and I went back to school and you couldn’t be married at that time and be in a dorm so I had to prevaricate and once it became clear that I was pregnant, I got a job as a governess in Palo Alto for two girls who were horrible, just horrible girls, but their parents were in the middle of a divorce and their father was hitting on me, it was a very interesting experience, but I didn’t graduate at that time. I left school when [my husband’s] ship came back, had my daughter [in San Diego] and then we moved to Winchester [Massachusetts] just outside Boston and I finished my degree at Harvard. And, [Dr. Henry] Kissinger was one of my instructors, it was awesome. He was really a terrible lecturer but he was a really smart man.

Andrew: That’s interesting that right after you got married he had to leave on the ship. Where did he go?

Carol: Far East

Andrew: What year was that?

Carol: That would be 1960.

Andrew: And then, what did your dad think about that?

Carol: Well, naturally, he wasn’t very happy, but he also said, you know, you’re married [and] I’m not paying for school tuition anymore. I said fine. He and I had a love/hate relationship, mostly love, so I borrowed the money from my [maternal] grandfather.

Andrew: And your grandfather didn’t tell your father?

Carol: I don’t know if he told him or not. I didn’t care. I paid tuition and I was working so . . .

Andrew: So when your first child [daughter] was born, where were you working? You went to Boston and then were you working there when she was born?

Carol: Anne was born in San Diego. I did some classes at San Diego State when I was still nursing her, which was fun in the back of the class with them going “Oh titter titter.” But it was fine. When I went back to Boston, I worked as a substitute teacher at a high school there in Winchester, which was great and I got to stay home with both of the children by that time and actually, Anne [Carol’s daughter] started kindergarten there and the old story about walking four miles to school, both of them uphill? It was almost true for her.

Andrew: And then when was your second child born?

Carol: Bruce was born in 1963; he was born in Massachusetts near Amherst. I was staying with my first husband’s mother who worked in New York and I lived with her friend, Lynn Ven Din, who was a whacko and um, my mother-in-law would come home on the weekends. But Lynn was very jealous of me because she had such a close relationship with my mother-in-law. The days of wine and roses was a movie which was popular back then and I went to the movies one night and that’s when Bruce decided it was time to come, so I’ve never seen the end of that [movie] which really annoys me.

Andrew: And what were you doing then? Were you working?

Carol: I wasn’t working then and I was staying there until the baby was born. Trying to exist…

Andrew: And your husband was where?

Carol: He was in Europe, somewhere in the Atlantic.

Andrew: Was he in the Navy?

Carol: Yes, he made captain in the Navy. The reason he didn’t make admiral was my fault, of course.

Andrew: So he was pretty much gone sometimes, then he would come back, then he would leave again?

Carol: Yes, every time he got in the kitchen I’d say, “Who’s that strange man in my kitchen?” And every time I’d decide I was going to divorce him, he would go to sea again and you can’t do it while they’re at sea. But I got some great trips [while married]. I got to go to South America, to Rio, to West Africa, Ghana, Spain, Barcelona, Europe Scandinavia. Hey, everything has a reason.

Andrew: What was one or two of the big differences you noticed between those foreign countries and then here at that time?

Carol: I didn’t really think about the differences, I thought more about the similarities. My favorite was Spain. Barcelona is an absolutely wonderful city. I made the mistake of inviting a bunch of junior Navy officers’ wives with me and all they kept saying was “Where is the McDonalds? Why are there all these bicycles in the hallway? Why don’t I have a bathroom of my own?” And of course my response was, “Well, if you don’t like it you can go home.”

Andrew: So it’s different now. I know when I went to Barcelona there was a McDonalds and KFC.

Carol: Well, yeah it was different then, nicer I think.

Andrew: When did you get divorced?

Carol: We divorced in 1979. I left and my son [Bruce] and I. My daughter was in school in Ripon, Wisconsin [Ripon College], and my son and I left and moved into a different place in Arlington [Virginia]. It was somewhat difficult because it was a different school district and I didn’t want to have him change schools so I had to drive him to school every day and I was working first at Telecolor, which was a production studio, and then at a place called Jeffalyn and Johnson, which was a consulting firm [both in northern Virginia suburbs of Washington, D.C.], and it made for really long days.

Andrew: So you majored in business?

Carol: No, Latin American history and psychology. Of course, what else would you do?

Andrew: I don’t know. I would never have guessed that.

Carol: Yeah, well, psychology is useful.

Andrew: So how long were you in Boston?

Carol: Two years.

Andrew: And did you move anywhere after that or did you go straight to Arlington?

Carol: No, we were in South Carolina before Boston [and] we were in San Diego for a long time. Loved San Diego. We lived in Point Loma, absolutely gorgeous, and then South Carolina. That was when my sister Susan [the author’s mother] and I, two children, one dog and a cat drove across country . . . took us three months. We had absolutely the most wonderful time except Susan got us lost in Kansas which you can’t do because it’s a grid.

Andrew: I’ve heard some stories about that trip. We’ll leave it at that. Then, after you got to Arlington?

Carol: Yes, got to Arlington after Boston.

Andrew: Then, everything got settled in with the family?

Carol: Yes, the children were in school at Arlington public school and did well, mostly.

Andrew: How about when you were in school, did you notice any negative treatment towards women?

Carol: You know, I really didn’t, no. Even though my dad, even though the “no women in the lumberyard” was in effect, my dad treated us all as the smartest people in the world and we had better live up to it. You know, he and I argued often but it was not argumentative for argumentative sake. It was more “If you would just listen to me for just one minute you might learn something.” And he was right and in later years I even admitted it, but I was so stubborn, I still am. I was so determined to do it my way that often I annoy people or am abrasive toward them. I don’t mean to be, it’s not my intent but I know that I am but it’s probably too darn late for me to change. But, no I didn’t really notice any sexual differential of abasement.

Andrew: So there weren’t too many examples of feminism because of the women’s movement?

Carol: I didn’t have any issues.

Andrew: Did you see any?

Carol: Oh, you saw it everywhere. But most of it was not caused, but was provoked by women being subservient and if you were tough, if you were strong, it didn’t happen as much. It does happen but not as much.

Andrew: So your personality had a lot to do with it?

Carol: Of course.

Andrew: How about any of your friends? I know how you said your father treated you all equally. In that way did you see any people you know with a completely different family life?

Carol: Yes, I had two friends in high school who both ended up committing suicide in their middle to late 20’s and I ascribe it primarily to the way their fathers treated them. They grew up under a domineering parent, the male, and when they married, they found another one and I think their cups just were full. I think they couldn’t deal with it anymore. And it’s very sad, it’s totally sad but in some ways, I don’t mean to say it was their own fault, but they should have seen the writing on the wall much earlier.

Andrew: So now you think there is more of a balance and you saw a shift away from fathers being maybe more domineering?

Carol: Well I think there is a shift in the upper middle class and if you look at the lower class, and that’s a pejorative term, but for instance, if you take non-licensed or non-domicile workers. Look at onion and garlic pickers in California, the farm workers in the Midwest, the citrus pickers in the South. These are still itinerant labor camps that are using undocumented labor. A lot of the union shops in, for instance, Chicago: there is so much sexual harassment and sexual opportunity for their bosses and it’s being taken advantage of every single day and it’s horrid. But see, you have to think about the people who are able to be taken advantage of. Now if it’s women who are undocumented, then yes, they are vulnerable. If it is women, just women ordinarily, I hope that we’re better. The latest educational scores are showing that women are doing better than men, not only in the English and language arts area but also in math so we better think about our educational system.

Andrew: Let’s go back. So you got divorced in ’79, did you re-marry again?

Carol: Yes, I sure did. If you count it all up I’ve been married for 48 years. Gosh that’s totally scary. Yeah, we married in ’80. Yeah, my current, as my father used to introduce my mother as “my first wife.” My present husband had two children, and I had two children, and when we married, we had one of mine living with us and very soon after we married one of his moved in with us because his mother said she couldn’t handle him. So, actually, we have four children who are really, really close and have melded into the family very well. We are all together a lot and together, we have eight grandchildren and most of them are down here most of the time it seems like.

Andrew: So, they all live in northern Virginia?

Carol: Um, well one is in Madison, but they’re all in Virginia.

Andrew: And you were married, what year was that did you say?

Carol: I got married to Tom in ‘80. It was ’79 not ’89 [that I got divorced from my first husband].

Andrew: Ok, so you got divorced in ’79? And, you have lived out here [in rural Burgess, VA] since then?

Carol: No, we didn’t move down here permanently until ’02, 2002. We built a house down here in ’89 and I retired in 2001. We finished this house in 2002 and I got breast cancer in 2003 so we just cross off 2003 so that year is just done.

Andrew: That one doesn’t count.

Carol: Nope.

Andrew: So, you retired in 2001 from what job?

Carol: I was working for SAIC (Science Applications International Corporation), which is a multi-talented consortium of different divisions. I was the head of security and administrator for one division of about 250 people and I loved my job. I just loved my job and the people were fabulous and I still keep in touch with them.

Andrew: So how long were you doing that?

Carol: I did that for 18 years. I worked for Stanford Research Institute for 15 years before that. All of these are in and around the Washington metropolitan area.

Andrew: Let’s rewind to another war. How about Vietnam? Any direct relation to that?

Carol: Uh, my first husband was over there for the Turner Joy fiasco [USS Turner Joy, a destroyer in the United States Navy, involved in what became known as the “Tonkin Gulf Incident” in 1964]. My second husband was there right before it started. But no, my brother was there as a volunteer [in the army] and kept calling home saying, you know, we don’t belong here this is a bad thing to do, but . . .

Andrew: What did other people think? Did most people think we shouldn’t be there?

Carol: Oh yeah, I think everyone with a brain was thinking the same thing except “bomb them back to the Stone Age” LeMay [former Air Force General Curtis LeMay] and perhaps poor old Johnson [former President Lyndon B. Johnson]. I mean, that war destroyed him. It did.

Andrew: So what happened when Pete, your first husband, came home from that? Did he come home, and then go back, or was he home for good?

Carol: No, he came home and went back. Destroyer captains are traditionally somewhat above the fray. You know they’re not on the ground, they’re not marines, they don’t see the blood and guts, unless they get themselves blown up, which sounds harsh but it’s still true and you have to keep a measure of aloofness to be able to do what they do. But they didn’t do much but track soviet submarines who were all swarming around that area. But, you know, they would ping them and they would go away and they would ping them and they would go away. I mean, it’s stressful but it’s not war as it was on the ground in Vietnam.

Andrew: So did he say the same thing after going back, that they shouldn’t have been there in the first place?

Carol: Yeah, no, he thought we should have been there.

Andrew: Oh, he did?

Carol: Yes

Andrew: Most everyone else didn’t. So, were there any crises or a moment of truth in your life where you realized something like a change in your mind whether it be in school or life?

Carol: Yeah.

Andrew: Or you had to make a change?

Carol: Yeah, I think when I got pregnant. I mean, I certainly had not expected to. I did a really stupid thing. I met my to be husband in San Diego after finals at Stanford but I didn’t tell my parents of course that I was going to San Diego before I came home and didn’t even think, I mean how dumb can you be? I’m using my father’s gas card and he gets a charge from San Diego on his gas card and I said “Oh yeah, oh yeah, dad.” So that was a big change and when I found out I was pregnant, I had to tell my parents and I was afraid. I think anyone who has been through that situation would be afraid. So, I went to my parent’s best friends who had gone to Stanford with them in Palo Alto, Menlo Park. Ben and Beach Holland, who were just wonderful people, so I went to them and talked to them and said “I can’t call him.” So, Ben Holland, who’s an old football star from Stanford, called them and told them what was going on and of course my father is going “What! What!” I’m going, “Oh Jesus, I can’t talk to him.” So the following weekend I went home and Pete [Carol’s first husband] came to Long Beach and we had a wedding and all my family came and my aunts and uncles and everybody and I wore a brown dress. It was really ugly, really ugly. Then, we had one night in a motel and then [Pete’s] ship left and I went back to school [Stanford].

Andrew: Not exactly your dream situation?

Carol: No, but hey out of that came Anne [Carol’s daughter]. I wouldn’t trade that for anything.

Andrew: How about work wise? Was there one time where you realized what you really wanted to do?

Carol: No, because we moved every two years. You know, it’s so difficult to find something that you really like to do when you move every two years. I mean, I’ve taught school, I’ve run a day care center, I’ve run a restaurant, I’ve worked as a security officer, I’ve worked as an administrator. I don’t like office jobs, I really don’t. I was the event planner for SAIC for a long time. That was fun, but it required getting up at god-awful hours of the morning. But, no, what I really like to do, I’m a master gardener, I love that. I love to cook, don’t like to do dishes. I love taking care of children but I don’t want to do it all the time and I’m 70 years old and I can keep up my garden and my kitchen and that’s sufficient.

Andrew: So your favorite job was for SAIC?

Carol: Yes, because of the people. You know, people make all the difference in the world, wherever you’re working.

Andrew: So you say you like to cook and garden. So most years when your children were growing up you weren’t really a stay at home mom?

Carol: Yeah, I would have loved to have been but it’s difficult to afford.

Andrew: What about friends at that time? Did you feel like women were staying at home or were they working a lot?

Carol: No, no, most of my friends have always worked. I think you gravitate yourself towards women with whom you have similar capabilities or interests and most of my friends worked. I don’t deride anyone who is able to stay home. I mean, that would be wonderful. In fact, I have a daughter-in-law [Carol’s son’s wife, Michelle] who’s a stay at home mom. She works harder than anybody I know. She has four children, no she doesn’t, three children. She’s not going to have any more because “Mr. Snippy’s” already been to work. But, you know, she does the children’s plays, she does all the props for the plays, she builds them herself, she gardens, she cooks, she does everything and I admire her.

Andrew: So it’s challenging whether you’re at home or in the workplace?

Carol: Oh, you make your own life challenging, no matter where you are.

Andrew: What about household technology? Anything, obviously there were changes but big changes from when you were growing up?

Carol: Shoot, when I was growing up we had a ringer washer.

Andrew: And, the ice thing you said earlier. What about the milk-man? Did you have the milk-men still?

Carol: We had, oh man, the milk-man was wonderful. And, when I was really little at my grandmother’s house, it was not pasteurized so the cream all rose to the top and if you got there first for your cereal in the morning you got the cream off the top. And it [the bottles] had paper lids, it wasn’t foil. And, I got to mix the oleomargarine [the original name for the artificial substitute for butter] with the dye because the dairy council would not let them make margarine that was colored the same as butter so there was a little tiny dye packet that came in the olio margarine and you had to mix it in so it looked like butter. That was my job, at three [years old].

Andrew: So, washing machine was different, everything was very different?

Carol: Oh, no dryers.

Andrew: No dryers. So you had to hand dry?

Carol: Hang dry, which I actually still do. Sheets smell a whole lot better but you got to watch the birds. No, the washing machine, that old saying “Don’t get your tit caught in a ringer,” is true. My grandmother, my father’s mother [Martha] did that. Hurts like the dickens.

Andrew: I can only imagine.

Carol: Well, you don’t have any.

Andrew: Let’s hope I never do. No typewriters? Typewriters were not around?

Carol: No, manual

Andrew: Everything was manual?

Carol: Totally manual. In 1983 we bought an IBM electric for the business that my husband and I had and it had a small memory card so that if I were doing billings, I could punch a key and it would print, pre-process stuff. I mean, that’s only ’83. When I went to work at SAIC I had to bring my own computer, they didn’t have them.

Andrew: So what did you think when the first computer came out? What do you think then and now? It’s totally different, obviously.

Carol: It’s totally different. I know very little about computers. I can use them, I use them as a tool, but I don’t depend on them. I do pay bills electronically. I do play a lot of solitaire. We’re down in the country, my antenna has been out for a week and they will be her on Monday so it’s not a hurry-up place. My friend Donna called from Ohio and said “Well, can’t you tell them you absolutely have to have it?” And I said, “I don’t absolutely have to have it. It’s not a crisis.”

Andrew: So, it’s almost like you could get by with no computer. Back then, they weren’t invented yet so people just got by?

Carol: Yeah, it’s the same thing as cell phones. We never used to have cell phones. I mean, if you had an emergency, you had a quarter, and hopefully you could find a kiosk that had a telephone that worked.

Andrew: No dishwashers?

Carol: Nope.

Andrew: Washed all the dishes. How about cars? What was your first car?

Carol: It was a brand new yellow Ford Fairlane, and my [maternal] grandfather bought it for me. I asked him for an Oldsmobile but he wouldn’t get that. God, what year was it? I was a sophomore at Stanford so it was ’59, 1959. I drove the darn thing ‘til it fell to pieces. I did try to take all the floor mats out and wash them in the washing machine, that didn’t work out.

Andrew: I bet that didn’t go over well . . . so, obviously different technology now?

Carol: Oh, goodness gracious.

Andrew: Do you like it better now?

Carol: I don’t care

Andrew: Or you didn’t know what it was then so it wasn’t really a big deal?

Carol: It doesn’t matter. I mean I still have to use a trowel to dig in the garden. I still have to use, well I do like the fact that I have a cultivator that I don’t have to do by hand. But, you know, I don’t like power tools, basically because when I prune they shed instead of cut cleanly so I won’t do that. Oh my god, yes, washing machine and dryer, in this household. There must be 5,000 loads of dishes a year.

Andrew: A lot easier than hand wash.

Carol: Well, fortunately, I have really good relatives, they do the dishes.

Andrew: So how about relationships? You said you and your dad argued but it was more of a love-hate thing, so you had good relationships with your parents mostly?

Carol: With my dad, wonderful. But my mother, I loved but I lost respect for over the years for a variety of reasons, but she’s gone and so is he and that’s done.

Andrew: How about your children, good relationships with them?

Carol: Very good, yeah, very good.

Andrew: And, they live out here so that makes it . . .

Carol: Well it makes it so much easier.

Andrew: Immediate family?

Carol: Oh yeah, I mean they’re down here all the time. I mean, I don’t know whether you have explained this, but we live in the country, I mean in the country, it’s a half an hour to the grocery store, but all of our children live in northern Virginia, but they’re down her often. I mean, there’s somebody here probably 50 weekends out of the year.

Andrew: How about economic status during your life? What was it like?

Carol: We were upper middle class growing up. We’re about the same now. My retirement, all my retirement money, I invested it in SAIC stock, went to build this house and it’s my pride and joy. I just love it.

Andrew: Did you have friends back when you were growing up with different, a different economic status? Did you get to, I mean, was it different if you didn’t have very much money back then? I mean, it’s still hard today but did you notice anything?

Carol: I had a wide range of friends. I was raised a Christian Scientist so a lot of my friends were of that same ilk but not just, you know, totally so. I had friends who were Hispanic, I had friends who were black, I had friends who were Asian as I was growing up. Down here, I have lots of friends who are black and some that are Hispanic because the northern neck [of the Rappahannock River] has expanded the opportunity for Hispanics because they are doing a lot of the farm labor, a lot of the crabbing and oystering, but very few Asians here in the northern neck. Only one family who I know and they have a restaurant which is not doing well. Actually, my podiatrist is Hispanic, so obviously they are breaking into the community.

Andrew: How about any discrimination when you were growing up? What did you notice?

Carol: I noticed it for others but not for myself.

Andrew: Yeah, that’s kind of what I meant, if you noticed it in the community.

Carol: You noticed it mostly with blacks. My father was terribly, terribly prejudiced against blacks but that was because he was in the oil fields and after he moved to California and when he would come down here he would meet friends of ours who were black and he would change. He would say, “Well, it depends on the person.” And I said, “It always depends on the person.” And I’m going to say something and it will probably be bleeped out. I said dad, I never called him dad, his name was Bill: “Bill, there are niggers who are white and there are niggers who are black and you better just get over it and figure out which is which.” He didn’t like that but he believed me.

Andrew: How about women? Did you notice any prejudice towards them growing up or more towards blacks?

Carol: You know, I didn’t notice because I’m such a stubborn person. I didn’t think about that. Perhaps if someone had brought it to my attention I would have. I knew that women in my mother’s social class were pretty much all white [and] uptight, but I know that the next generation, my sister and I are totally different from that. So, we must have learned something growing up because you can’t change overnight

Andrew: Do you think it has to do with what you were exposed to growing up?

Carol: Yeah, I think so.

Andrew: Just different experiences?

Carol: Well, my grandmother, my mother’s mother, was totally southern, came from Virginia originally, and she didn’t even recognize others. On the other hand, my father’s mother was in Bahrain when my dad, no my grandfather, was working for Standard Oil and she was the only white woman on the island of Bahrain and she had servants and she had everything that you could want, except air conditioning, and she was totally [not] prejudiced. I mean, she was 82 when she died and she wouldn’t have cared if you were purple. She was a wonderful woman and she always fixed me lamb chops and eggplant.

Andrew: So did your dad have any, well, he grew up in the Depression, and did he have anything to say about that?

Carol: He would not talk about that and he would not talk about the war. He was, I don’t know if you would call it private or what you call it, but both me and my brother would always try to get him to talk about it and he never would.

Andrew: That’s interesting. That’s one of the things we were learning about last week . . . the Depression.

Carol: Oh my God. Oklahoma Dust Bowl. Some of the people I worked with at the bottling factory had come straight out of Oklahoma and they had nothing, absolutely nothing, and they were so kind to me and I was from such a different world than they were. They would ask me over to their house after work. We would have tuna fish, no mayonnaise, just tuna fish and beer and I can’t even remember what else and one of them was enamored of me and all I did for him was throw up in his boot and he came back and tried to find me 15 years later. I don’t know why but they were wonderful people and you find the most wonderful people in the most surprising places.

Andrew: Did they ever talk about that at all or did you ever ask?

Carol: No

Andrew: How about any un-fulfilled things or anything that you started and didn’t finish or wanted to finish or anything like that? Or something that you would’ve liked to do but maybe never did?

Carol: You know, I don’t do that. Yeah, there are a lot of things that I would have liked to do but I don’t even dwell on them because things are as they are and I’m certainly busy enough.

Andrew: So, you just let it play out?

Carol: I mean, I wanted to finish teaching elementary school but I get to do that now by volunteering. I wanted to be a doctor but I get to do that by volunteering at the clinic. So, you know, you can round out things in your life.

Andrew: Make up for it in different ways?

Carol: Yes.

Andrew: So you think, I don’t want to say direction but choices, do you think you made the right choices or you don’t regret anything?

Carol: No, you never make the right choices. I don’t regret any of my choices because if you regret an early pregnancy, then you regret your children, and I would never do that.

Andrew: What about now? Anything you would like to do?

Carol: Yeah, I want to get my new asparagus in.

Andrew: Anything specific? Any goals, anywhere you want to go?

Carol: I want to go to the Bahamas with Misti and Kevin [her husband Tom’s son and daughter-in-law] because they have a time share down there but I want to get those goats born first. Hey, short term.

Andrew: So now that you said you live out in the country, everyone should know you have goats.

Carol: Of course, what else would you do?

Andrew: I can’t think of anything.

Carol: I have fish and goats and cats and dogs.

Andrew: Do you still keep in contact with your family now? Your sisters and brother who live across the country?

Carol: All the time. In fact, my sister [the author’s mother] is coming out here to take her son back to California on the tenth of May and I can’t wait and she’s going to stay for a week. And, we’re trying to coerce her brother into coming out also.

Andrew: I bet that sounds exciting.

Carol: It is exciting to me, I mean, you know.

Andrew: If you had to pick one of the favorite things in your life that you have done, what would you say?

Carol: I think one of my favorite things are the family reunions. We’ve had three so far and we’re supposed to have another one next year but our family is all whacko, but it’s really fun to get them together. The first one was at Yosemite; the second one was at Friday Harbor in Washington State where my brother and his wife have a house. The third one was in Nags Head, in North Carolina, and we’re hoping the fourth will be at Lake Powell on house boats.

Andrew: So family reunions are one of your favorite things to do?

Carol: Oh, I think so, but we only do them every five years so you can’t get tired of people.

Andrew: We wouldn’t want to get tired of people. Let’s see . . . how about vacation? What’s your favorite vacation spot?

Carol: Here and here.

Andrew: Home?

Carol: Yes. I would like to go back to Yellowstone but it’s such a far way and it’s gotten so crowded. I liked it when there was nobody there.

Andrew: How many people were there in Long Beach when you grew up? What was the population?

Carol: Population of Long Beach, I have no idea but I’ll tell you our graduating class at Poly [Polytechnic High School] was 646.

Andrew: Just your senior class?

Carol: Just my senior class.

Andrew: That’s a lot.

Carol: Huge.

Andrew: I remember for my high school it was in the 700s. I mean it’s a populated area now.

Carol: Yeah, bet you have never heard “Pomp and Circumstance” for that many hours. It was awful and we had a breakfast at my house and I think there were fifty people and they were all asleep on the floor. It was hilarious. My father came down and was stepping on people and was going, “What is this?” It’s just a breakfast dad, go make more eggs.

Andrew: So Long Beach was still pretty populated?

Carol: Yeah, but there were fewer high schools, that’s why.

Andrew: When is the last time you have been back?

Carol: Well, it was for Bill’s funeral.

Andrew: Wasn’t it for Jenny [Carol’s niece] and Steve in ’04?

Carol: Was their marriage in’04? Then, yeah, that’s the last time I’ve been back.

Andrew: What do you think of it now compared to when you grew up?

Carol: I don’t like it

Andrew: Don’t like it now. How come?

Carol: Too many people.

Andrew: Too many people.

Carol: Yup, but you know, I’m isolated because I’m down here and there’s no traffic and even when I go to northern Virginia, I absolutely hate it. And poor Tom [Carol’s husband] has to do it every single day.

Andrew: So you have gotten accustomed to just not dealing with over-crowding?

Carol: Yeah, I don’t want Wall Mart, I don’t care about Target, and I don’t care about Costco. I would just rather go to the old Tri-Star in Kilmarnock and do without or do it online.

Andrew: How about when you were growing up? Obviously it was more crowded but were things still similar?

Carol: Yeah, but no big buck stores, none.

Andrew: So everything was just . . .

Carol: Local grocery stores and that was it.

Andrew: So simpler is better?

Carol: Definitely; we had one department store in town called Buffum’s [which] has since gone out of business. And, it just, I don’t know. I don’t need big box stores. I would rather buy locally, I admire local merchants and it’s hard for them to make a living nowadays.

Andrew: How was it for your dad? Did he ever say anything about growing up? Did you ever talk to him?

Carol: He told me about swinging on the swing in Tooele, Utah, where he broke both his wrists because he climbed a tree that he wasn’t supposed to and fell off. He was in two casts for six months, back then. No, he didn’t talk very much about his youth but he talked a lot about his brother Webster, which was my grandmother’s [Martha’s] maiden name and that they fought like cats and dogs and as they got older they got really, really close which was wonderful.

Andrew: Utah, I bet that was pretty isolated for him growing up?

Carol: Oh, in the middle of nowhere. It was a totally Mormon town and the only Christians were the doctor and my grandfather and grandmother. That was it, everybody else was Mormon and so that was an interesting way to grow up.

Andrew: Did he bring you up with a specific religion?

Carol: Oh, no, no . . . Christian by my grandmother who was a Christian Scientist and she, not insisted, but encouraged me to join that church, which I did and I still believe in the precepts and a positive attitude is probably their most valuable precept.

Andrew: Was religion for any of your friends or did you notice any drastic religions?

Carol: You know, I had roommates who were catholic and roommates who were Jewish. You didn’t notice anything different except for which day of the week and what you weren’t supposed to eat. Of course, my nephew’s friend, I was concerned, not concerned, but I had served pork last night and I thought she might not eat that but it turned out it was Andrew, my nephew, who ate all the tamales.

Andrew: Did you notice anything more drastic about religion now as opposed to religion today? Did you notice anything different with religion then as opposed to now? Were they any stricter about it?

Carol: No, we’re in the middle of the Bible belt so we have, you know, 87,000 Baptist churches, but there are white Baptist churches and there black Baptist churches and you will attend a funeral at either one of those and not be ostracized. But on a day to day basis you would be welcome at the black churches but not so much welcome in the white churches. I happen to be white but I attend a black Baptist church every now and again because the choir is absolutely wonderful. So that’s about as much religion that I participate in now. I occasionally read Science and Health when I’m feeling depressed or down or whatever but that doesn’t happen very much.

Andrew: Were there black and white churches or did you see any around Long Beach?

Carol: Well there are no black Christian Scientists, so . . .

Andrew: Or just churches in general?

Carol: You didn’t notice it or maybe I wasn’t perceptive enough or old enough to notice it. You notice it down her because it is very obvious.

Andrew: So there probably were?

Carol: There probably were, I just didn’t notice.

Andrew: I think that’s all the questions I have for today



March 30, 2010 (by telephone)

Andrew: When you became pregnant, abortion was still illegal and I was wondering, since you were so young, if the thought ever crossed your mind? What were your views of it then, and did they change when it became legal in '73? Know anyone who became pregnant young and maybe wished abortion was legal?

Carol: No, I didn't ever consider abortion, but I do know several young people who wished it were legal - and several who had abortions after 73. Yes, I think it should be the woman's choice, but education is still the best preventive.



April 2, 2010 (by telephone)

Andrew: So what was it like with your parents?

Carol: Oh, absolutely. Dinner had to be on the table at six, and when he came come, he had a beer, sat in the television room, smoked a cigar and then went to dinner.

Andrew: That’s funny, because we were talking about that in class. So it was the same with your parents and mother?

Carol: Oh yeah, absolutely.

Andrew: So was she, like, here honey, I’ll do whatever you want, basically.

Carol: Yup, yup.

Andrew: We were talking about a balance of power, so your dad pretty much; well, it was either his way in the house or the highway?

Carol: Yeah, pretty much.

Andrew: How about when you working? Did you notice any discrimination in the workplace, was there any of that? I might have already asked you this but cannot remember.

Carol: I never, I didn’t run into any. But, you know, we moved every two years so I was doing jobs that were . . . you know, teaching; I was running a day care center, I was working at a video place, which are not places that would ordinarily be discriminating.

Andrew: OK.

Carol: See what I mean?

Andrew: Yeah, I see what you mean. OK, those were my questions.

Thursday, August 5, 2010

Please share what you know about our beloved Carol Murphey


Top 10 (sorry, David, you never knew Carol) 20 reasons you know you knew Carol:
  1. You know what piffle means and what to do with a bicker.
  2. When you pull something from her pantry, you instinctively check the pull date.
  3. You know her kryptonite: the internet.
  4. You’ve been sponged; you’ve been flashed; and  you’ve been felt up.
  5. You smile knowingly when you hear, “Do you want to see my bruise?”
  6. When you close your eyes, you can see those lashes batting at you like butterflies.
  7. You’ve taken a bath with her.
  8. She’s corrected your grammar (or, perchance, you have corrected hers).
  9. You feel grateful when it rains.
  10. You buy local or grow.
  11. You’ve had a wet willy and you know what “go commando” means.
  12. You understand the equation: X = tomatoes+onions+jalapenos+limes+cilantro
  13. You do not eat cabrito.
  14. You’ve done the compost walk.
  15. You know that if you put ketchup on the steak, you get fork in the wrist.
  16. You know the view of clouds rolling in over a cornfield:  home.
  17. You garden in diamond rings with dirty fingernails, ass up in the air.
  18. You’ve been asked to participate in parade with an animal (wearing red, white and blue).
  19. You, also, do not know the meaning of an open container. 
  20. You’ve been loved unconditionally.
Did we miss something?  Tell us how you know you knew Carol.