Mr. Morgan was the ‘everyman’ among the two million World War II veterans who served in Europe. One of seven siblings, he was from Winston-Salem, a small town in North Carolina. A disproportionate number of that two million came from the Southeastern United States, from farms and schools.
Leaving college when he was 20, in 1944 he joined the Army Air Corps. Two brothers were also serving in Europe. One was in combat, so their mother had two sons with their lives at risk every day. Fortunately, they all survived. And he came home to make a life in the new America.
To complete the education begun at Mars Hill College before the war, he graduated from Wake Forest with a bachelor’s degree in English in 1947. He began his teaching career in 1948. In 1950, he married the love of his life. They raised three children and lived to celebrate their 66th wedding anniversary.
He received his Master’s in Education from the University of North Carolina in 1951, and later joined the staff at Clemmons High School as an English teacher. He became principal of the school in 1955 and spent 31 years there – retiring in 1984. In retirement, he enjoyed coffee and camaraderie with the men of the ‘Executive Club of Clemmons,’ whose breakfast meetings were a staple of his retired years.
In 2011 the new Elementary School in Clemmons, NC, was named in his honor and for his years of dedication to the community.
Many of his students shared memories of this man who had been so important in their lives:
“When I was in first grade, he challenged my class to find out who wrote the song "America the Beautiful." The first person with the answer would get a free dessert at lunch. The next morning, I was so excited to give him my answer. He gave me a dime to use for dessert that day. What a positive experience that was! He was a true educator who loved, and invested in, all his kids. Over the years, I have reminded him of and thanked him for challenging me to research and learn (and rewarding me for it). Mr. Morgan helped make me who I am today. I am forever grateful.”
“Mr. Morgan was a mentor. He taught me that to be respected, you had to earn respect; that showing kindness to others did not make you weak. He was soft spoken and kept his temper with the rowdy kids. He listened and he heard what you said.”
“Mr. Morgan was my hero then and has remained so. I was called to his office on the last day of school in the 5th grade, just a little nervous I was. He offered me a summer job, picking up trash on the schoolyard; ‘Meet me each Monday morning and bring me the total hours worked from the previous week and you will get $.25 per hour.’ Not much you say, but I thought otherwise. As the oldest son of a widowed mother, it really helped our family, plus, what a great boss. Well summer ended for me with enough money to buy school clothes for me and my Sis. I last saw him in 1958 and then again 46 years later when my wife and I moved back to Clemmons; he was having breakfast at the Clemmons Kitchen and on that day, I walked to his table. Always the perfect gentleman, he finished talking with another friend and then turned to me and said ‘Eddie, it sure is good to see you again.’ I was quite taken ‘back by his remembering me. He knew all about my travels, marriage, kids, and profession. He was my hero.”
“We were a terribly unruly class who had just driven a young, first year teacher to tears. He took over the class and let us know who was in charge. In a quiet voice, almost like musing to himself, he said, “The Germans couldn't whip me, and neither will you.” The rest is history. He won the respect and admiration of the Class of 1956 lasting until this day. I am not sure if we adopted him, or he adopted us. He attended our class functions to the end and always handed out sage advice. We will miss him dearly.” [i]“Mr. Morgan was always there to give support during a crisis, a true friend to my parents, and a respected war veteran. His humble demeanor could not mask the fact that he was a natural leader. His special humor could instill a sense of comfort during a difficult time. He was a unique person that will be missed by all who knew him.”
“In my last principal assignment, I was privileged to be the first principal of the new Elementary School. We did our best to pay homage to Mr. Morgan's service to our country as well as his contributions to the community. In building that school culture, I was able to reconnect with Mr. Morgan.” [ii]
He was one of the giant oaks of the Clemmons community, truly one of the Greatest Generation. Men like Mr. Morgan are irreplaceable, and the country will be the poorer for their no longer being here. A few weeks before his death, we had a phone conversation that gave me an opportunity to tell him how his life had been a great example to me and how much I appreciated him. We talked about his time in the War and his experiences at Clemmons School. I thanked him for the service to his country and to all us “mushhead” know-it-all high school students – kids who had no idea that he was an authentic American hero.
He thanked me for calling, but that conversation, I am sure, meant more to me than it did to him. To my amazement, he recalled a small incident from 1981. I was away for two weeks and wanted to reach my wife Judy who volunteered at the school. I called Clemmons School from Cape Town, South Africa. The phone was in his office, and Mr. Morgan answered. He reminded me of my call, remembering it for 36 years.
I saw Mr. Morgan for the last time a year or so before his death. We had breakfast at his favorite spot – the Clemmons Kitchen. For the first time, he spoke with me about his Army Air Corps experience.
He was a radio operator on a B-24 Liberator bomber with the 8th Air Force in England, 1944-45. He flew one or more missions to bomb the synthetic oil plants in Germany (vital to the German war effort). He always remembered that raid when he drove past fuel tanks near Interstate 40 at the regional airport.
On his 29th mission, his plane was hit by enemy fire over Munster, Germany. He said that he did not actually “bail out.” As the plane came apart, he was thrown out the open bomb bay. He parachuted into the town that he had just bombed, and German soldiers took him prisoner. He was a prisoner of war for “only six weeks” until Allied forces liberated him.
He contacted the families of the missing crewmen when he came home. Only 3 of 9 had escaped, and he was always haunted by the question – “Why were we the ones who made it?”
So, this was the brief dramatic, story about the sacrifice that he, like so many others, made. Most were teenagers; the old men were 24. The time in England and Germany lived vividly in his memory. He returned to become a mentor and an educator to several thousand kids and their parents in the community.
(This is an abbreviated history. I urge you to visit this LINK, an interview with Mr. Morgan. Once you see it, you too will never forget him.)
At the Clemmons Kitchen, Mr. Morgan paused and said, “Call me Frank.” My reaction was the same as ‘Eddie’s’ in his meeting with Mr. Morgan. Eddie wrote,
“He said I was old enough now to call him Frank. I looked into his eyes with tears in mine and politely said ‘No thank you. As long as you live, I will always call you Mr. Morgan.’"
I never said a word about his invitation to call him ‘Frank,’ but I thought, “I’d sooner call God by His first name than call you ‘Frank.’ You will always be ‘Mr. Morgan’ to me.”
[i] The 1956 class was the last at Clemmons School. The next year, the high school consolidated into a new school. Mr. Morgan remained at Clemmons Elementary for 28 years.
[ii] After a lengthy career as a school principal, Mike Hayes now builds custom steel BBQ pits [Link], an entrepreneur that Mr. Morgan would have been proud of.
Great piece, Gene!
Fantastic piece.
Out of curiosity, I looked up the Clemmons Kitchen - sounds like the perfect kind of place to get a simple, decent meal. My kind of place. It's now on my list of places to visit if I'm ever in the area.