Wednesday, April 10, 2002
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Wednesday, April 10, 2002 |
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My heritage as a Murphy By BILLY MURPHY
More and more today, people are interested in their roots. With everyone being labeled in some way, Asian-American, Native-American, African-American (I guess if I had a dog it would be canine-American), I just feel a little left out only being American-American. So, I did some research to discover my heritage. On my father's side I am obviously Irish. I recently learned that Murphy is the most popular Irish name that doesn't start with a "Mc." Murphy is actually a very popular name no matter where you are. In the movies there has been "Murphy's Romance," "Murphy's Law" and "Murphy's War." On TV you had "Murphy Brown." A little-know fact: The Beatle drummer before Pete Best, who was before Ringo Starr, was Elmer "Fish and Sticks" Murphy. Great-grandfather Fricassee Murphy came over after the "Great Potato War" of 1903. It seems Ireland was split over whether potatoes should be prepared au gratin or scalloped. My great-grandfather was muscled from his homeland because he liked his spuds with cheese. On departure, my great-grandmother uttered the now famous phrase, "Give me limburger or give me death." After making a home in the swamps (called "wetlands" in Fayette County) of South Carolina, my grandfather Mildew Murphy was born. It's been said, "When he was born they broke the mold. But, it grew back." After spending the better part of 30 years building a house on stilts, my granddad and his sister Musty went into business selling apple fritters to starving shrimp boat pilots. After 10 years of hard work and producing the fattest shellfish netters east of the Mississippi, the Murphy clan was rich. They could now afford a two-story trailer. Then my dad was born. At 19 he, with his four younger brothers, formed the first all-white Globetrotters basketball team but had little success, because they couldn't find another of race of people who played basketball worse than Caucasians. There were no Jewish people in South Carolina. Soon after, my dad joined the Air Force and flew off to World War II. After getting engaged to an English girl, he was stationed in Germany, where he met my mom. He never talked very much about the British girl, just something about bad teeth. He met my mom after "The Big One" and they were married in some German town where Hitler had built factories for manufacturing mustache combs. After the war, my mom and dad moved back to Shulerville, S.C. My mom became proficient as a cook. She blended eastern European cuisine with Southern cooking. She won awards for her deep-fat fried sauerkraut. Her brautwurst cobbler wasn't half bad either. My dad continued his stint in the armed services as a technical sergeant converting old propeller planes into theme park rides. Along with my two brothers and two sisters, I have enjoyed one of the most normal of families, and I am proudest to say that we have not had a single Murphy grow up to be a victim. No one has been on Oprah. No one has filed a lawsuit because of slipping in the grocery store. There has not been even one Murphy to write a letter to the cable company. I guess the worse of the matter is that we tend to make up incredible stories. And considering that whole "Murphy's Law" thing (If anything can go wrong, it will), I think we turned out to be pretty happy bunch and that is just what "heritage" should be all about. [Visit Billy Murphy on the Internet at www.ebilly.net.]
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