You can take the boy out of Greenwood, but, you can’t take Greenwood out of the boy.
I was born in Greenwood and lived there until I was 20 years old. I am sixtyh generation, the third child and the oldest son of Stanley and Margaret Murray’s six, and named after my grandfather who was born and raised in Greenwood as was my father. My grandfather, the son of Stanislaus and Sarah (Rogers) Murray was raised on the farm now owned by the Mills down by the West Greenwood Grange Hall at the bottom of Ridge Road as you approach Rt 417. When he was married, he purchased the farm at the top of Murray Hill on Dryden Road from Jackson Rogers and that is where my father was raised.
We lived in the old Dr. Knight house there on Main Street, just below the school. As you have heard, Dad filled many roles in town and Mom was a teacher and for a time a business owner with Dad. I had four sisters, Ellen, Catherine, Sally and Anna Marie and my brother Stan who was named for Dad. Sally now lives in our old house. I married a home town girl, Kathleen Lounsberry. My kids jokingly say we are related to almost everyone in town. I think Kathy is trying to prove that hypothesis through this project and her digging through our ancestry.
John Robert here. Our family tree has no branches. (ha ha)
Kathy here. Maybe not related by blood but related by friendships, work and civic companionship and experiences. But, I have to say, the ancestry searches are somewhat closing the circle generation by generation.
Dad and Mom have shared about me working on my grandparents’ farm at the top of Murray Hill. I started doing chores there when I was about seven years old until they sold the farm and moved into town up on Church Hill. I even moved in with them when I was 14 so I could help out more. Kathleen and I lived with Grandma and Grandpa in the Holt Street house when we first started our family as well.
This is Sally, when I was in high school, I started staying up at Grandma’s house too, helping out with John and Kappy’s little ones. A short time with a long memory. They never let me live down that I swore the half bottle of Pepsi left nightly next to my bed was for Kathy in case she was thirsty overnight. What’s the big deal. I taught her to drink out of a straw before she could walk.
Looking back, I had many jobs and roles in Greenwood, as a child, a young adult and even after I moved my family to Andover.
At 8 or 9, I shoveled walks and mowed grass for some of our neighbors. Got about $.35.
When I was about ten, I had a chicken business. Right where the house Dad built for Anna Marie out behind our's sat my coop. I was pretty lucky and would win five or six chickens at the Raffle during the Rod and Gun Club's Turkey Shoot around Thanksgiving. I would raise the roosters and sell them. Winney, one of the hunters that stayed with Grandpa and Grandma Murray, he worked in a processing plant in Ransomville, up near Niagra Falls, even taught me how to dry pluck a chicken.
We also picked potatoes for Uncle Gordon (Pease) each year for $.07 a bushel.
Stan here, Uncle Gordon had pieces of cardboard with numbers on them for each picker. John would let me partner with him using the same number. I know he picked more than me but he always split our pay 50-50.
I had a paper route, Sunday papers to about 120 houses, all over Greenwood and into Canisteo. When I was too young to drive, Rich Updyke would drive me. My brother, Stan took over after I gave it up and then when he left town, Mom and Dad took it on for a few years.
Also that same year, Dad bought the station. I pumped gas and as I got older, changed oil and did grease jobs on cars. We had a rack outside; but, the more complex mechanical work was done in a garage out back. Dad had a little car lot around the station and I fixed up a number of cars and sold them there too. Another little money maker, my own pop cooler. I put it out front for the people just stopping for gas or walking by to grab a cold drink.
While a number of families in town, such as the Lamphiers and of course mine were involved starting after WWII, when I was about eleven, I started helping with Civil Air Defense after the Korean War. For about three years, I logged over 250 hours of sighting planes and reporting them to the US Air Force as a member of the Ground Observation Corp.
Unofficially, I started with the Fire Company at age twelve, cleaning hoses and getting the trucks cleaned up and ready to go back out after a fire. Officially, I became a member at 18 and remained a member for about twelve more years, long after moving to Andover.
John, this is your dad, you, along with a few of the other guys, got certified at my alma mater, Alfred Ag Tech, as an EMT to take ambulance calls. We were a volunteer Fire Company, but, we took it seriously.
And, for the fun side of that, I was a member of the Water Fight team, mostly running nozzle. Dad told you a little about these events. My kids still remember them. Kathleen, my wife, was a member of the Auxiliary and she was on the women’s team.
This is Kathleen. The ladies team participated a couple times a year from about 1964 to 1973. My sister Louise and her daughter Flo, your sister Anna Marie and Pat Higgins were all on the team. Check out the picture of us in the Fire House next time you drop by. Don’t we look fierce in all that fire gear?
At fourteen, Greenwood had the need for a garbage collector. Now, I couldn’t drive yet, but I would get Dick Nye or someone to drive me around and I collected the trash for people in town on Saturdays and took it to the dump for 25 cents. A pretty good deal. I did this for about 14 years. I even had my brother Stan working for me for a time. Toward the end, I took my boys with me when they were little too.
Hey, Stan here. I remember when John was fixing up that old garbage truck. Dad had brought in a 53 Chevy and I hopped in and started it up. Well, I went to shut it off and let the clutch out a bit too fast and ran that car right into the back of the truck; parts went flying everywhere. I took off. And, for 4 or 5 days, when John came in, I went out the back door. Mom kept telling me I should hide because he was looking for me. Turned out, they were just pulling my leg.
John, do you remember the signs I used to put on the truck? “Hector, Hector, the Garbage Collector and His Little Honey Dipper.” I was the honey dipper, I guess. And, “Satisfaction Guaranteed or Double Your Garbage Back.” It was all in fun. At first, John did not think so, but, he learned to laugh at them.
I was and still am proud to be his little brother. No one messed with me because they knew John would protect me. He would sometimes take me along on his dates with Kathleen to the Coon Dog Races. He even taught me how to bet using my garbage route money. He paid me $2 a week.
Kathleen here. It took some doing, but he finally convinced me. From that first hayride to when I finally gave in thinking if I just went on a date, he would leave me alone. That didn't work the way I thought. John ran his coon dogs all the way to our farm quite often. Work the dogs and visit the girlfriend; good time management. Hmm, looking back, our dates were kinda dual purpose too. As you can see, he was always busy.
Stan back. Busy he was. We kids had to find ways to spend time with him. Mine was on the garbage route. For him, it was a way for me to start making my own money and not rely on Mom and Dad. Now, I was bigger that he was by this time; but that did not matter. While we were out Saturdays, we would wrestle in front yards. John would take his pens out of his pocket and we would remove our gloves and go at it until he pinned me. Then, jump up, put our stuff back on and finish the route. I can remember a time when I was getting a bit full of myself in the truck. Next thing I knew, I was outside and pinned on the ground.
Yes, I was able to handle Stan for a lot of years. But, when he came back from Basic Training for the Air Force, that ended. I challenged him to prove I could still whoop him and low and behold, he was the victor. Last time we wrestled.
Hey Dad, let me jump in here, this is Joe, I mostly remember getting treats. The ladies handed out cookies and candy when we were with you. Sure made me much more willing to spend Saturday in an old stinky pickup truck.
John too. When I think of my younger days is Greenwood, most thoughts include the dump and our Saturday morning trash collecting. Dad would fill the back of the truck with 50-gallon barrels and we would make the rounds in Greenwood, stopping to visit some along the way. We always got pickled sausages at the Legion and NeHi or Mountain Dew at the store across from the Town Barns. Dad had us convinced that his ‘59 Chevy would make gas while going down the hill from the dump towards town. As I got older, I realized it was just the float in the tank that was the actual culprit. There was nothing like donning a set of coveralls, filling barrels with trash, and visiting the dump to make a Saturday morning complete.
Another entrepreneurial opportunity materialized. Syrup. We had been making it up at the farm for years before Grandma and Grandpa moved into town. It just took the trees at our house, the purchase of a small gas stove, and my trusty helper, my brother and we were in business. Stan and I tapped the trees and gathered the sap. We set up shop in the cellar below the parlor. That sap had to boil for days. What we didn't realize was how much sticky steam would rise up and create a mess on the ceiling and all over the cellar really.
Stan here. I don't know whether Mom and Dad put the cabash on John's latest business after that first year or maybe it was just John having to clean up that mess.
It was two reasons. Yes, the mess was one. The other was, we got just enough for our own use out of those trees.
As a sophomore at GCS until I graduated, I worked for Mrs. Banks in the school cafeteria. I loved taking the lunches to the Kindergarten class. I had fun picking on the kids about their girlfriends and boyfriends. I think they liked it. They seemed excited to see me every day …maybe it was just the lunches. The ladies let me make sandwiches and stir soup. I carried all the heavy stuff out of storage for them too.
Stan here. Mr. Tenant, the principal, was not keen on us having a study hall before lunch, so he had me take John’s place when he graduated. My experience was a little different. I mostly washed dishes.
Speaking of school, Mr. Tubbs, the science teacher, would always have John out demonstrating experiments for the lower grades. I think he only attended his physics class about once or twice a week and he still got a 97% on the Regents exam.
During this same time, I used to work for Howard Lamphier sweeping the floors and emptying waste baskets at the school too.
And, at 15 I helped Gary Reiman on his Canada Dry Pop Truck. I loaded and unloaded and dealt with the return bottles.
When I was about 16, I guess, I started working for Lew Cornell and his cable company. Even after I stopped working for Lew, I still helped out painting towers with Clair.
Around that same time, Dad was sponsoring a race car, owned by my future brother-in-law Duane Coates. He supplied the gas and we both supplied the labor to fix that car after each race. We would put the car up on the rack and roll it onto the truck to take it to Woodhull. After the station closed, we moved our operation to now married, Duane and Sally’s garage. I guess I put my mechanic’s skills to work for about six or seven years with that car.
My Trish, and Sally’s boys, Denny and Tommy, loved going to the races at Woodhull. Sally was always in the bleachers, but hear tell the stories by those kids and you would think they were on their own.
Tommy here. Woodhull Raceway seemed like a Rite of Passage, a ton of growing up took place on Saturday nights. From falling in love, learning how to fight, sneaking in and out of the main gate to find mischief and of course, great local racing. I’m a true NASCAR fan today because of the many nights I spent in Woodhull. My father would always take us, however, he spent his time in the Pit area and being under 18, we were not allowed there but were free to run loose in the Grandstands. Some of the fondest memories were the times my cousins were visiting and would attend with us. Being the youngest of the bunch, my night typically consisted of taking orders from my brother Denny and cousin Trish which shockingly, didn’t always end well for me. None the less, I’m very thankful for great racing and wonderful memories made at the race track.
After high school graduation, I went to work for Dad full-time at the station for about three weeks, then took a job with the town driving a truck while I attended classes at Alfred Ag Tech. It was at one of those classes that I found my forever job. I was taking an electrical class and the Plant Supervisor for Iroquois Telephone happened to be in the class. He struggled a little and I helped him out. Because of that, he asked me if I wanted a job. So, I started with Iroquois Telephone. I had my regular job and a number of side jobs that I did for them. I contracted to pour a half dozen or so concrete platforms for phone booths.
Wait, Stan here. I remember helping John take down the Kellogg garage there on Andover Street when the phone company bought the lot and put up their building. I was still in high school. And as Mom shared, I stayed with the phone company my entire career, retiring from Verizon in Fort Wayne Indiana after years in Pennsylvania, then Virginia as the company's name changed and changed again.
As a young adult, I have some great memories of playing on the town basketball team. We traveled around Steuben and Alleghany Counties playing other local teams. Duane and Bryan Higgins kind of ran the team. We really didn’t use a coach. I even went around and got some of the local businesses to sponsor us, York’s, Lippert’s, Young and Young, O’ Hargan's and Krusen’s, I think. Each player had a jacket with the name of a different business on the back. I, of course, proudly wore Murray Station.
Hey, Dad, Kathy here, I wore that uniform as a Halloween costume in high school. Lot’s of questions about what and where Murray Station was.
I played on the town fast-pitch softball team for a year or two maybe. Duane was our pitcher. He was really good. Shine Cook, the Hortons and Bob Cheeseman played on the team over the years. There was a wide range of ages, but we all had a great time representing Greenwood.
As I said, I was working for the phone company and they decided I needed to live in Andover in 1961. So, we got a house up the street from the plant manager. Before we could move in, Kathleen felt that it needed some sprucing up. We Greenwoodians sure knew how to work as a team and get things done. Mom, Dad, Grandma, Kathleen’s parents and the two of us, wallpapered the entire house, walls and ceilings, in a single day. Mom measured and cut, Grandma pasted, Dad and I handled the ceilings, Albert and Kathleen put the paper on the walls and Flora trimmed along the floor. Now you know Flora, she was not even 5 feet tall, so Dad and I had to trim up top.
We may have moved from Greenwood; but, as I have said before, we stayed involved there.
The organization that I spent the most time with was the Boy Scouts. After being a scout through high school, I was an Assistant Leader with Troop 62 for 13 years. I finally had to give it up when we moved to the Syracuse area in 1973.
Kathy here again. I spent some time reading all the Greenwood News articles in the Andover archive. Troop 62 was very active. Lots of camping, projects and awards ceremonies. Sounded like Dad became an experienced public speaker while leading this troop.
This is John’s brother Stan again, yes, if it had not been for John, I would not be an Eagle Scout. He even figured out how to have my award ceremony after I was already in the Air Force. Just before I turned 18, I came home after training to be awarded my Eagle. Thanks John!
Joe, the fourth child here, I know John and I went camping with the scouts as toddlers and during elementary school. At this point, I don’t know if I was with the Greenwood scouts or the Andover troop as Dad was Troop 42’s leader for ten years too.
This is Kathy again. I remember my parent’s and especially my Dad being involved in scouts, Little League Baseball, Andover’s Parade Committee, PTA, sports boosters, Junior Achievement, you name it, he was involved, our whole lives. My husband even played on an adult basketball team with him when we were dating. He continuously got all of us involved too.
Even though we are all grown with families of our own, some of us with grandchildren. Eek! He is still a scout master and yes, still camping and chopping firewood. His latest, his scout troop did this adventure over the summer and he wants all of us, down to his great grandchildren, to go whitewater rafting with him next summer. He says they have cabins for the wimpy glampers.
Even though Mom is no longer with us, she passed away in 1987; per our parents and grandparents examples, we, John and Kathleen’s seven, Kathy, John, Joan, Joe, Trish, Jeff and Lisa, stay involved in a wide range of community organizations and activities. Working on this project, what surprised even me was how involved my dad was in Greenwood during his 20 years there and even more surprising the years beyond. He works with me on my projects for the Historical Society and Museum too. As I opened with, you can take the boy out of Greenwood, but, you can’t take Greenwood out of the boy.
She is right. I enjoy coming back to spend some time on the old family front porch and at both the Murray and the Lounsberry farms, and bumping into old friends and family each time I visit. I am still a Greenwood boy at heart.