‘Eat the ice cream’: YEC long-time member has led an extraordinary life

Liv­ing an extra­or­di­nary life is some­thing most of us set out to accom­plish. Although he would say his life was noth­ing more than ordi­nary, Har­ry H. Mur­ray has sur­passed this goal by sim­ply being him­self. A sol­dier, a leader, a mas­ter gar­den­er, a dea­con and a father, Mur­ray has always found a way to share his most valu­able gift—time. At 95, he isn’t sure how many years he has left, but he has proven he knows how to use time wise­ly. “Eat the ice cream and enjoy every minute,” he says.

Harry H. Murray
[/me­dia-cred­it] Har­ry H. Mur­ray sur­veys his yard and remem­bers the many veg­eta­bles and flow­ers that have grown there through the years. He also reflects on fond mem­o­ries he has of rais­ing his three kids with his col­lege sweet­heart, help­ing oth­ers and wel­com­ing sev­en grand­chil­dren and four great-grand­chil­dren to his fam­i­ly.

Mur­ray is one of York Elec­tric Coop­er­a­tive’s first mem­bers in the Rock Hill area. He remem­bers a time when he mailed his month­ly meter read­ing on a post­card to pay for his elec­tric ser­vice. His ser­vice with the coop­er­a­tive still runs to the same house he built for his wife and three chil­dren 66 years ago. The cypress walls of the home were built to last, cul­ti­vat­ing a close-knit fam­i­ly full of love, sup­port, laugh­ter and learn­ing. They also served as a haven from mem­o­ries of hard­er times like the Great Depres­sion and World War II.

Mur­ray is one of the last sur­viv­ing World War II Vet­er­ans in our area. Although there are many things he would like to for­get about war, his val­or dur­ing his years of ser­vice does not go unno­ticed by his com­mu­ni­ty or his fam­i­ly. Mur­ray served in the Army’s 7th Infantry Divi­sion. He’s been across the world and back, but still is proud to call Rock Hill his home.

His life was­n’t always as easy as eat­ing a bowl of his favorite Turkey Hill vanil­la bean ice cream. He was a teenag­er dur­ing the Depres­sion and learned at an ear­ly age that hard work is part of life. Skip­ping two grades because of his abil­i­ty and work eth­ic afford­ed him the oppor­tu­ni­ty to grad­u­ate ear­ly and attend Berry Col­lege in Rome, Geor­gia for one year before being draft­ed to serve his coun­try.

Begin­ning his ser­vice in July 1944 at Camp Robin­son in Arkansas, Mur­ray fin­ished basic train­ing then was sent to Fort Ord in Cal­i­for­nia before being shipped to Hawaii. From April until June 1945, Pri­vate Mur­ray fought in the bat­tle of Oki­nawa. He recalls the haunt­ing sound of con­stant gun­fire and the mem­o­ries of friends lost dur­ing the bat­tle. He feels blessed to have sur­vived, thank­ing God for keep­ing him safe, even through an appen­dec­to­my while in the field. His out­stand­ing ser­vice in Oki­nawa earned him the Com­bat Infantry­man’s Badge and Good Con­duct Medal. He spent the last year of his ser­vice in Korea with his com­pa­ny as occu­pa­tion troops until the war end­ed. Like the scar from his field surgery, war left a last­ing mark on Mur­ray.

Mur­ray recalls he only took one day at home to “kiss his mom­ma” before return­ing to school. He went back to Berry Col­lege to con­tin­ue his edu­ca­tion in agri­cul­ture. The col­lege became a cor­ner­stone of his life. Found­ed to pro­vide an oppor­tu­ni­ty for high­er edu­ca­tion for moun­tain girls and boys by Martha Berry, stu­dents earned their room and board by work­ing 16 hours per week on the cam­pus, mak­ing the col­lege self-sus­tain­ing. Not only did the school devel­op his skills by teach­ing him about grow­ing his own food and pro­vid­ing hands-on expe­ri­ence dur­ing his work on the cam­pus farm, but the col­lege is also where he met and pro­posed to his wife of more than 71 years.

Harry H. Murray vintage photo
Mur­ray served his coun­try for two years in World War II, fight­ing in the bat­tle of Oki­nawa. When the war end­ed, he was sta­tioned in Korea, serv­ing as part of the occu­pa­tion troops aim­ing to keep the peace.

Mur­ray built a life in Rock Hill with his fam­i­ly and a lega­cy in his com­mu­ni­ty of lead­er­ship, wis­dom, kind­ness and going the extra mile. In 1951, he began his 37-year career at Celanese as a devel­op­ment spe­cial­ist. Mur­ray worked swing shifts for many years, but always man­aged to find the time he need­ed to spend with his fam­i­ly. Mur­ray’s son, daugh­ter and her twin broth­er remem­ber their par­ents always hav­ing time for fun because they worked as a team. Whether it was grow­ing veg­eta­bles, flow­ers, chil­dren or oth­ers, the Mur­rays knew the val­ue of team­work to make the hard work eas­i­er.

Through his adult life, his career knowl­edge was sought after by oth­er cowork­ers and new plant hires. He was hap­py to take folks under his wing to train, share his wis­dom, and test new prod­ucts and chem­i­cals. A prob­lem solver, Mur­ray always took the time to find an answer. His deter­mi­na­tion and for­ti­tude is just as evi­dent in the hob­bies he enjoys now, includ­ing his love of nature, gar­den­ing, bird watch­ing and fur­ni­ture restora­tion. He also spent his time serv­ing his com­mu­ni­ty, work­ing with the youth at his church, Oak­land Bap­tist. There are many good and bad threads of a dense­ly woven life, but togeth­er they cre­ate a beau­ti­ful pat­tern if you learn to look at the big pic­ture. Mur­ray was quick to answer, “patience,” when asked to share his secret for keep­ing per­spec­tive. He says his life has been like every­one else’s life, but he focus­es on what real­ly mat­ters. Lov­ing each oth­er, tak­ing the time to know each oth­er and help­ing oth­ers are all oppor­tu­ni­ties in every­one’s life if they look hard enough and, as Mur­ray says, take the time to enjoy the ice cream.

By Porter W. Gable