April 7, 1905 - October 25, 1981

A woman I admire a great deal is my paternal grandmother.  The picture immediately above is me with my grandmother taken in November of 1962.  This is my grandmother's story.

Dorothy Delaney Helen Caldwell Murphy was born April 7, 1905, in Waterloo, New York, the first daughter of Frederick Adnorium Caldwell and his wife, Mary Elizabeth (Bessie) Foote. Dorothy grew up in a large family of boys so early on she developed strength of character and a work ethic that served her the rest of her life.

Dorothy's father was always convinced that there was something better just around the corner - a better farm, a better opportunity, a better situation. So, throughout Dorothy's formative years her family moved frequently, often at least once each year, sometimes as often as 3 times a year.

Sometime in her teens, Dorothy changed her middle name from "Delaney" to "Helen." Her middle name was her great-grandmother's name (Delaney Rema Weaver, mother of Dorothy grandmother, Izora Weaver Caldwell). For an unknown reason Dorothy never liked the name "Delaney." It is unclear to me whether she disliked the name because her grandmother, Izora, had not been close to her mother, or simply because she didn't like the name. Dorothy was very close to her grandmother, Izora, so Dorothy would likely have heard stories from Izora of her mother.

Dorothy Murphy reported that she was a graduate of the School of Domestic Science in Delhi, where she was trained to be a housewife. Informal training from her mother and formal training at school must have worked because Dorothy was an excellent cook and baker. In later years, people from miles around hired her to bake cookies, cakes, and tarts for special occasions (her sugar cookies were unequaled by anyone). She regularly baked for birthdays, local card parties, and local clubs. Dorothy was noted for her beautiful birthday cakes in the shapes of animals (e.g., butterflies, turtles, etc.).

Sometime before 1920, Fred Caldwell moved his family to Delaware County, New York, where he settled his family on a farm just to the south of Delhi, the county seat. Sometime around 1920, Dorothy met a young man who lived in downtown Delhi. Robert Murphy's family also had a farm a few miles outside of Delhi on Platner Brook Road. Dorothy and Robert spent many hours together, both in town as well as on the family farm.

In 1921, Dorothy Caldwell fudged her age by a couple of years to obtain a marriage license to marry Robert Murphy (she was only 16, but she stated that she was 18). Robert Murphy and Dorothy Caldwell were married on September 24^th, 1921. According to the newspaper announcement of the marriage, published September 26^th, 1921, the couple was married at 3:00 p.m. in a Methodist Church Parsonage in Oneonta by Rev. Dr. B.M. Johns.

According to the announcement: "They were unattended, and the ceremony was witnessed only by a few of the immediate relatives, including the bride's brother, Raymond F. Caldwell of Great Lakes, Ill." The newspaper announcement seems to indicate that the Caldwell family lived in Oneonta at this time.

The newspaper announcement of the marriage tells us "the bride was nattily attired in a light brown traveling suit with hat to match." Following the wedding, the young couple "left by auto for a tour of Western New York." According to Dorothy, they spent the first night in Cooperstown where they went to see a movie. The young couple was home at 168 Main Street in Delhi after October 15^th (Robert's sister and their mother lived at 171 Main Street).

To the marriage of Robert and Dorothy Murphy were born four children. The first child born was Mary Elizabeth Murphy, born July 10, 1923. Photos of the family indicate that Mary was much loved and adored by her parents, grandparents and great grandmother.

In 1926, the family grew by two more when twins were born on October 14^th, 1926. First came Robetta Dorothy Murphy at 7:00 am, followed by Robert Frank Murphy at 8:00 am. Dorothy was assisted by her grandmother, Izora, who came to stay with the family for several weeks prior to the twin's birth. Dorothy reported that she was so large she couldn't see her feet or tie her shoes for the last few weeks of the pregnancy.

Tragedy struck the young family in early 1927 when Little Mary, as her mother knew her, became ill with tubercular cerebral meningitis. At that time, Mary's great grandmother, Izora Weaver Caldwell, returned to Delhi from her home near Seneca Falls to help care for Mary and the newborn twins. The loss of her first born child was a devastating blow to my grandmother, one that still brought tears to her eyes 50 years later when she showed me pictures of Mary or told me about Mary’s short life.

The depression years were tough on countless American families. The Murphy family was no exception. For years, Robert Murphy had operated the Public Service Garage in Delhi, repairing cars and selling new cars. When the depression struck, customers stopped paying their bills so Robert couldn’t pay his bills. He lost not only his business but also something he dearly loved – working on machinery.

Robert spent months looking for work, near and far. Eventually he found a job in a garage in Whitney Point, about 70 miles from home. After "auditioning" for the job, Robert was hired and moved his family to Whitney Point. During the remainder of the 1930's and the early to mid-1940's, Robert worked at the Whitney Point Garage and Dorothy cleaned houses and raised her children.

Dorothy's strength of character served her well again in 1935 when Whitney Point was struck by a terrible flood. Their house was located in town, which was hit the hardest. The family lost almost everything they owned and had to spend months cleaning up, recovering and rebuilding.

During World War II Dorothy took turns with several other residents of Whitney Point and served as an enemy plane spotter. Two or three nights a week she walked several miles to the look out tower to watch for enemy (i.e., German) airplanes. The town was blacked out because everyone was worried about German planes bombing the continental United States, so the walk to and from this assignment must have been difficult, at best.

In mid-1948, Robert became sick and was eventually diagnosed with bladder cancer. He underwent exploratory surgery early in the illness to find out what was wrong and spent substantial time in Lourdes Hospital in Binghamton. Dorothy Murphy recalled driving Route 26 from Whitney Point to Binghamton every night for so many weeks that every curve of the road was ingrained in her memory. Late one night while returning home, Dorothy had a flat tire. A man nearby helped her change the tire; she never forgot his act of kindness and spoke of it for decades afterwards.

With her husband unable to work, Dorothy went to work at the local diner. As Robert's illness progressed, Dorothy became his full-time caretaker, learning how to give him morphine injections to control his cancer pain. She converted the downstairs front room into a bedroom for her husband and cared for him there. Dorothy sat up nights with him through the late summer of 1950.

At about 3:30 am on September 23^rd, Robert Clifford Murphy died at the age of 59 (one day before their 29^th wedding anniversary). Dorothy was 45 years old at this time, and like Murphy women of each generation, was left with a young child to raise following her husband's premature death.

Dorothy buried her husband and assessed her situation. She had a young daughter to raise, a mortgage to pay, and now had to provide for her own future. Her husband had never believed in insurance, so there was no money on which to live, let alone pay off the high doctor and hospital bills.

To support herself and her family, Dorothy turned to cooking – she purchased the local diner, Van’s Diner, and operated a 24-hour a day combination family diner and truck stop. Business was good but the hours were grueling. Rain or shine, snow or sleet, hot or cold, the diner was open and Dorothy had to be there.

One brutally cold winter when the snow was so deep she couldn’t get her car out, Dorothy walked the several miles to get to work. Unfortunately, wearing a dress exposed her legs to the cold and the snow, which gave her a case of frostbite. Years later when she was struck with disabling arthritis, her doctor traced part of the problem back to that case of frostbite.

In the late 1950’s, the hours and the pressure were keeping Dorothy away from home too much. She needed to be home more with her youngest daughter, so she sold the diner and went to work in the cafeteria of the local high school. In the early 1960’s when the town built a new elementary school, Dorothy was named the Manager of the cafeteria in the new school. She spent the next 10 years managing the operation, producing meals for the children that today would not be found in any school cafeteria.

But cooking was not Dorothy’s own occupation. She also was a federal employee, serving as a local weather observer. On Christmas morning, 1966, Tom Cawley's regular column in The Binghamton Press featured Dorothy Murphy and her work as a weather observer for the government:

Until she was no longer able, like her husband before her, Dorothy had always had a large garden. Each fall her back porch and her kitchen were turned into a processing plant where corn and fruit and vegetables were prepared and preserved.

Even when her knees and her general health did not permit planting and harvesting of a large garden, she always had at least a couple of tomato plants near the storage shed. Every summer she visited the local U-Pick farm to pick fresh strawberries and peas. Many falls she and I would harvest apples from 4 local scraggly apple trees and spend a Saturday making gallons of fresh applesauce. We also drove way back into the hills and climbed through massive undergrowth to pick gallons of fresh blueberries. She always said the best berries were way back in the woods – she was right.

Many summers Dorothy worked odd jobs, cleaning houses for neighbors, baking treats for local club meetings, selling tickets at the county fair, cooking at summer camps for children. The demands were high, but living without an income was not possible, so summers were no rest time for Dorothy.

In the fall of 1973, for the first time ever, Dorothy took two days from work for personal reasons. She rarely missed work, even when ill. She traveled to Gurnee, Illinois with her brother Clifford for their sister-in-law’s 75^th birthday party. She had a wonderful time attending the party and traveling with her brother.

However, upon her return to work the next day, Dorothy discovered that her assistant manager had taken advantage of her absence and maneuvered her out of a job. Dorothy suddenly and unexpected retired that day from her many years with the Whitney Point School system. No longer would she have to live on only 9 month's of salary and spend her summers working in far off summer children's camps in horrible conditions with insufficient help cooking to earn money.

While her assistant manager's deed hurt her pride, in the end, after she claimed her State of New York pension and Social Security, Dorothy was better off with no longer having to work so terribly hard to survive.

On April 7^th, 1980, Dorothy celebrated her 75^th birthday with a dinner at her son’s home. All three of her children attended, along with all 5 of her grandchildren. She was surprised at the conclusion of the dinner to receive a beautiful bouquet of long-stem red roses (in addition to other presents).

In early October of 1981, Dorothy Murphy caught a cold that she could not shake. Eventually, the cold developed into pneumonia and she was hospitalized on Friday, October 16^th. She absolutely refused to stay at the hospital the first night – she wanted to return home for one last night and then enter the hospital the next morning. While in the hospital, the usually stoic Dorothy would suddenly burst into tears. She was more emotional than any other time than I can ever remember.

I am convinced that Dorothy knew she was about to die and wanted to spend one last night in her home. For several years her son had talked about building an addition onto the back of his house for his mother, but she wanted to maintain her independence and did not like the idea of giving up her house. Her home and her freedom were extremely important to Dorothy – she had fought and scraped for them for years.

On a cold, blustery Sunday morning, October 25^th, 1981, Dorothy Murphy died at 10:55 am in the Intensive Care Unit of Wilson Memorial Hospital at the age of 76. Having cared for her husband during his extended illness, I believe that Dorothy was scared of suffering through an extended illness of her own. Her death, thankfully, came after just 10 days of illness; she did not have to suffer through months or years of pain.

Calling hours were held on Tuesday, October 27^th and were attended by 156 family and friends. The funeral was conducted Wednesday, October 28^th at 12:00 Noon by Rev. Robert Darling. Even though the funeral was at the height of lunch hour at the school, most of her previous co-workers left work and attended the funeral. Following the funeral was a procession to Delhi for burial in the family plot in Woodland Cemetery. Dorothy's brothers Gordon and Earl were able to make the trip to New York for the funeral and participated in all of the events.

An obituary for Dorothy Murphy appeared in The Binghamton Press:

The poem "The Rose Beyond the Wall" was read at the end of Dorothy's funeral:

Near  a shady wall a rose once grew,

Budded and blossomed in God's free light,

Watered and fed by morning dew,

Shedding its sweetness day and night.

 

As it grew and blossomed fair and tall,

Slowly rising to loftier height.

It came to a crevice in the wall,

Through it there shone a beam of light.

 

Onward it crept with added strength,

With never a thought of fear or pride.

It followed the light thru the crevice's length

And unfolded itself on the other side.

 

Shall claim of death cause us to grieve

And make our courage faint and fall?

Nay! Let us faith and hope receive.

The rose still grows beyond the wall.