Christmas in Laurens County in 1940
The year was 1940. It would be the last Christmas before the war. It was a Christmas when Dubliners and Laurens Countians put their differences aside and celebrated the birth of Christ in its true form. A little commercialism could be found, but the main focus was the religious aspect of the 25th of December. Many were worrying about the impending war in Europe. More than a hundred local men and boys in the Georgia National Guard were training in Fort Jackson, South Carolina for a war they hoped would never come.
A county-wide celebration began on the courthouse square in the late afternoon of the 12th. Several thousand citizens gathered in downtown. Streets were blocked off for several blocks in all directions. Late shoppers were serenaded by the bands of Dublin High School and the Laurens County Marching Band seated on a specially constructed grandstand. Music filled the air - broadcast from loud speakers in the courthouse tower. The boys of Cadwell, Dudley, and Rentz vocational classes aided Georgia Power employees in stringing the lights on trees and the courthouse itself. A manager scene was constructed on the grounds. The lighting also included the traditional tree of lights on the Carnegie Library grounds (now the museum).
Another part of the display of lights was a new neon sign placed on the steel frame of the river bridge wishing new comers a "Merry Christmas!" Later the sign was change to read "Welcome to Dublin" for west bound travelers and "Thanks, Come Again" for east bound visitors on their way out of town.
Dr. C.H. Kittrell, President of the Dublin Lions Club, served as the master of ceremonies. He hailed the gathering "as the most impressive Christmas display our community has ever had."
Dr. Kittrell praised the unity shown by members of the community and its significance in the Christmas season. The Rev. Claude E. Vines prayed for world peace in his invocation. Bob Hightower, chairman of the event, praised the spirit of cooperation by the business and professional men of Dublin, except the five "scrooges" who refused to donate to the program. In all, Hightower and his associates raised more than fifteen hundred dollars. Rev. W.A. Kelley, Superintendent of the Dublin District of the Methodist Church, called for a renewed observation of the spiritual significance of Christmas. By then, children began tugging on their parents sleeves asking "when are they going to turn on the lights?" Mae Hightower made here way to the stage where she threw the lights, just at the moment of dusk. In eclectic voices the crowd filled the air with "oohs", "aahs", and "wows."
The second phase of the celebration came five days later. The ladies of the Dublin Garden Club, led by its president, Mrs. Carl Nelson, sponsored a city-wide outdoor Christmas lighting contest. Mrs. Howard L. Cordell, Sr. and Mrs. Marion Peacock headed the committees which were able to secure out of town judges to evaluate the fifty-four contestants. The judges made their decisions based on the suitability of the lights to the type of home, the size of the decorations in proportion to the size of the house, and the total artistic and color effect of the decorations.
Mr. and Mrs. O.L. Chivers, whose home still stands on Bellevue Ave. across from the Piggly Wiggly, won the first prize. The George T. Morris home, now home to the Chamber of Commerce, finished in a second-place tie with "Green Acres," the home of Mr. and Mrs. Albert Geeslin. Third place was awarded to Mr. and Mrs. James F. Nelson, Jr.
Rev. Ralph Gilliam led an impressive and inspirational candlelight service at Henry Memorial Presbyterian Church on the Sunday before Christmas. Participants in the program included Blanche Coleman, C.C. Crockett, Leah Kittrell, Charles Alexander, Sara Veal, Noble Marshall, and the music club of Dublin High School. The choir of the First Baptist Church presented a cantata at the regular Sunday morning worship service. Mr. and Mrs. Santa Claus came to Buckhorn Methodist Church for an "Old Time" Christmas.
The third major event of that Christmas was a county-wide Christmas Carol program on the courthouse square, just two days before Christmas. A.J. Hargrove, the master of ceremonies, presided over a program which featured thousands of local school students. The children assembled at the school building downtown (now the City Hall.) One group, after another, formed on the school grounds and marched to the courthouse serenading parents, shoppers, and merchants along the way. At the courthouse they did an about face and marched back down the other side of the street. At four o'clock many church choirs assembled at the courthouse for the main part of the program which featured the traditional songs of Christmas, featuring soloists Mrs. Annelle Brown and Blanche Coleman.
An integral part of that Christmas in 1940 and each one since then has been the giving of gifts, especially the toys for the children. Smith's Jewelry had special last minute gifts for momma and daddy or for the special girl or man. Silverware sets sold from $15 to $150.00. Bill folds and belt sets were popular at two dollars or so. Bulova, Waltham, and Elgin watches were the most popular, all for less than forty dollars. A solitaire diamond engagement ring sold for $49.75 with the matching wedding duet for only $24.75. America's finest glassware sold from 25 cents up to $12.00.
Across the street at Lovett and Tharpe, shoppers could shop until 10:30 on Christmas Eve for the last minute gifts. For the boys, Daisy air rifles were a dollar, Wilson basketballs were two dollars and seventy-five cents, and Wilson footballs sold for a dollar and twenty-five cents. The Westfield bicycle, the top of the line, went for the sum of twenty-eight dollars. Tricycles were four dollars and wagons brought three dollars apiece. For the lady of the house, a husband could pick up a new Frigidaire refrigerator, range, or water heater for $120.00 and up. Tree light Strings, the old-fashioned kind with larger light bulbs, sold for fifty cents to a dollar.
Santa Claus came that night. Toy lead soldiers, baby dolls, comic books, and tea sets, along with the requisite new sets of clothes found their way under the trees. For the last two decades the county and city had suffered through a long and dark economic depression. Things were beginning to change. As Charles Dickens said in his "Tale of Two Cities," "It was the best of times. It was the worst of times." Our country was about to enter into a world war that would change the course of the history of man forever.
That joyous season of Christmas had two sad postscripts. Homer Jordan and M.C. Kincey broke into McLellan's Department Store. The two men helped themselves to the contents of the store early on Christmas morning. Otherwise, Sheriff I.F. Coleman and Chief J.W. Robertson reported that the day passed quietly, the only Christmas in recent memory that they didn't have to lock up a few drunks." While all but ten local National Guardsmen returned home for Christmas, two Monroe Georgia soldiers were passing through Dublin on their return to Camp Stewart. Just as Sgt. Roger Malcom and James Peters passed under the Merry Christmas sign on their way to Hinesville, they lost control of their car and crashed into the bridge. Sgt. Malcom didn't survive. It was his last Christmas. Christmas is a time to cherish with your family and friends. Remember the true "reason for the season" and have a Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!
Monday, November 23, 2009
Thursday, November 12, 2009
OWEN K. COLLINS
A Hero Remembered
Lynn Sewell sat by her father's bed. He was dying. His deaf ears could not hear her sobs. For hours she clutched his hands and stared through his blind eyes into her father's soul, remembering the good times they had and trying to imagine the horrors her daddy had suffered through. Owen Collins had many battles in his life, but he never lost sight of what was really important to him, his family and his friends.
On the day after he died, Lynn went back to her father's room to gather his belongings. She rarely saw the children of her father's roommate, who had also been in the latter stages of Alzheimer's Disease. Lynn and the woman began to talk. She mentioned that her father had been a prisoner of war during World War II. The roommate's daughter responded, "So was my father." "My dad was at Moorsburg," Lynn said. Lynn never expected what the lady's response would be. You see, the man who had lived in the same nursing home room for three months with Owen Collins was a prisoner of war, but he was a German soldier imprisoned in an English P.O.W. camp.
Lynn wasn't surprised. For years Owen Collins rarely talked about the war. Although he suffered much in the camps, Collins never held a grudge against his German captors, who were "pretty good" to the prisoners. Though his rations were scant and tasteless, he did say that the guards were older men with young sons of their own and their meals were not much better than his. "He always saw the best in people," Lynn fondly remembered. One sign of his times in the camp came when it was time to feed his dogs. "He always overfed the dogs because he was hungry in the prison camp and he could not stand to think that they may be hungry," Sewell added.
+%26+Buddies.jpg)
Owen Collins in Stalag 7 (4th from left)
Owen Kitchens Collins, the baby boy of Bryan Lee Collins and Laura Kitchens, was born in Dexter, Georgia on February 28, 1915. The Collins family moved to Sandersville and eventually to Decatur, Georgia, where Owen graduated from high school and went to work for the Standard Coffee Company.
Love came into Owen's life in 1936 when he went on a double date. He fell in love with the other boy's date and married her nearly two years later. They lived a long and happy life together for more than fifty five years.
At the age of 28, Owen enlisted in the United States Army. Leaving his wife and baby boy behind, Collins shipped off to England and prepared to land on the shores of France. As a member of General George S. Patton's Third Army, Owen and his division fought their way through the hedgerows and fortified villages of France in one brutal battle after another.
Collins was carrying a bazooka when the orders came through to take a house filled with Germans. Not knowing the order had been rescinded, Owen continued his advance. Upon reaching the designated objective, Owen realized he was all alone. Deciding that he would be killed or captured if he retreated, he concluded that his only option was to take the whole house, which he did. In doing so, Collins was awarded the Silver Star for gallantry in action. It would be one of two times that Owen would receive the nation's 3rd highest honor for heroism.
There was nothing different about the morning December 20, 1944. It was cold, unmercifully cold. The Battle of the Bulge was raging about Bastogne. Owen and Frederick Svoboda were busy digging their fox hole when they were captured by a German picket. They were taken to Stalag 7 near Munich. While in prison, Owen was forced to eat a diet mainly of bread filled with sawdust. Always looking to help those in need, Owen would gather potatoes while on work details outside the prison, hide them in his specially designed long johns, and cook them for his friends on a stove which he fashioned from pieces of metal he picked up along the way.
A week before the end of the war, Stalag 7 was liberated by the 14th Armored Division. Owen traded his cigarettes for a Brownie camera. He took pictures of his camp, his fellow prisoners, and the planes as they flew overhead. These pictures can be viewed by going to www.moosburg.org.
The Collins family moved to Blue Ridge in 1947. When Kit, the oldest child, went to school with no electricity, Owen put electricity and a light in his son's classroom. The next year, Owen had the entire school wired with electricity and lights. When anyone needed anything fixed in the neighborhood, Owen was there with tools in his hands and a smile on his face. "He would have given anyone the shirt off of his back if he thought it would help them." Lynn recalled of her fathers unceasing desire to help those in need.
Owen's first heart attack struck him at the age of 38 in 1953. Collins, a top salesman for Beck & Gregg Hardware, was forced to hire a teenage student to carry his heavy catalog when he called on his customers. Thirteen years later, Owen suffered the third attack on his heart. Forced to retire, Owen turned to what he loved best, woodworking, hunting, and fishing. His custom-made gunstocks were prized collector's items and heirlooms. His doll houses, game tables, and refinished furniture were considered works of art.
L-R: Kit, Doug, Owen and Lynn Collins (Jan not born yet)
Whether hunting with his best friend Cliff Wilson or fishing with his entire family, Owen loved the outdoors. There was the time when he and his children were sitting in his boat fishing. The baby girl Jan, three years old at the time, was the only one not to catch a fish. When the appropriate diversion came, Owen secretly reeled her line in, placed a good sized fish securely on the hook, and quickly and discreetly placed it back into the cool mountain lake. "She thought she had caught a fish and was the happiest girl in Blue Ridge," Lynn fondly remembered.
After surviving a war, months in a P.O.W. camp, and three heart attacks, Owen fought the ravages of Alzheimer's Disease for the last twenty years of his life. Giving up the keys to his car wasn't as bad as giving up the keys to his riding lawnmower on which he gave rides around the back yard in its trailer. In his retirement, Owen took in a troubled young man who lived across the street. Years later, the then grown man told Owen's daughter that her father was responsible for turning his life around because of the love and guidance he had given to him.
To his nation and his family Owen Collins was a hero, not just because he was a soldier and a prisoner of war, but because he was a wonderful father, keen businessman and expert craftsman and most of all, a good friend. Like the many members of the "Greatest Generation, " Owen Collins most important contributions to America did not come on the cold muddy battlefields of France or in the fact that he survived the horrors of the stalags. They came from his gifts to his community, his family and his friends.
Lynn Sewell sat by her father's bed. He was dying. His deaf ears could not hear her sobs. For hours she clutched his hands and stared through his blind eyes into her father's soul, remembering the good times they had and trying to imagine the horrors her daddy had suffered through. Owen Collins had many battles in his life, but he never lost sight of what was really important to him, his family and his friends.
On the day after he died, Lynn went back to her father's room to gather his belongings. She rarely saw the children of her father's roommate, who had also been in the latter stages of Alzheimer's Disease. Lynn and the woman began to talk. She mentioned that her father had been a prisoner of war during World War II. The roommate's daughter responded, "So was my father." "My dad was at Moorsburg," Lynn said. Lynn never expected what the lady's response would be. You see, the man who had lived in the same nursing home room for three months with Owen Collins was a prisoner of war, but he was a German soldier imprisoned in an English P.O.W. camp.
Lynn wasn't surprised. For years Owen Collins rarely talked about the war. Although he suffered much in the camps, Collins never held a grudge against his German captors, who were "pretty good" to the prisoners. Though his rations were scant and tasteless, he did say that the guards were older men with young sons of their own and their meals were not much better than his. "He always saw the best in people," Lynn fondly remembered. One sign of his times in the camp came when it was time to feed his dogs. "He always overfed the dogs because he was hungry in the prison camp and he could not stand to think that they may be hungry," Sewell added.
+%26+Buddies.jpg)
Owen Kitchens Collins, the baby boy of Bryan Lee Collins and Laura Kitchens, was born in Dexter, Georgia on February 28, 1915. The Collins family moved to Sandersville and eventually to Decatur, Georgia, where Owen graduated from high school and went to work for the Standard Coffee Company.
Love came into Owen's life in 1936 when he went on a double date. He fell in love with the other boy's date and married her nearly two years later. They lived a long and happy life together for more than fifty five years.
At the age of 28, Owen enlisted in the United States Army. Leaving his wife and baby boy behind, Collins shipped off to England and prepared to land on the shores of France. As a member of General George S. Patton's Third Army, Owen and his division fought their way through the hedgerows and fortified villages of France in one brutal battle after another.
Collins was carrying a bazooka when the orders came through to take a house filled with Germans. Not knowing the order had been rescinded, Owen continued his advance. Upon reaching the designated objective, Owen realized he was all alone. Deciding that he would be killed or captured if he retreated, he concluded that his only option was to take the whole house, which he did. In doing so, Collins was awarded the Silver Star for gallantry in action. It would be one of two times that Owen would receive the nation's 3rd highest honor for heroism.
A week before the end of the war, Stalag 7 was liberated by the 14th Armored Division. Owen traded his cigarettes for a Brownie camera. He took pictures of his camp, his fellow prisoners, and the planes as they flew overhead. These pictures can be viewed by going to www.moosburg.org.
The Collins family moved to Blue Ridge in 1947. When Kit, the oldest child, went to school with no electricity, Owen put electricity and a light in his son's classroom. The next year, Owen had the entire school wired with electricity and lights. When anyone needed anything fixed in the neighborhood, Owen was there with tools in his hands and a smile on his face. "He would have given anyone the shirt off of his back if he thought it would help them." Lynn recalled of her fathers unceasing desire to help those in need.
Owen's first heart attack struck him at the age of 38 in 1953. Collins, a top salesman for Beck & Gregg Hardware, was forced to hire a teenage student to carry his heavy catalog when he called on his customers. Thirteen years later, Owen suffered the third attack on his heart. Forced to retire, Owen turned to what he loved best, woodworking, hunting, and fishing. His custom-made gunstocks were prized collector's items and heirlooms. His doll houses, game tables, and refinished furniture were considered works of art.
Whether hunting with his best friend Cliff Wilson or fishing with his entire family, Owen loved the outdoors. There was the time when he and his children were sitting in his boat fishing. The baby girl Jan, three years old at the time, was the only one not to catch a fish. When the appropriate diversion came, Owen secretly reeled her line in, placed a good sized fish securely on the hook, and quickly and discreetly placed it back into the cool mountain lake. "She thought she had caught a fish and was the happiest girl in Blue Ridge," Lynn fondly remembered.
After surviving a war, months in a P.O.W. camp, and three heart attacks, Owen fought the ravages of Alzheimer's Disease for the last twenty years of his life. Giving up the keys to his car wasn't as bad as giving up the keys to his riding lawnmower on which he gave rides around the back yard in its trailer. In his retirement, Owen took in a troubled young man who lived across the street. Years later, the then grown man told Owen's daughter that her father was responsible for turning his life around because of the love and guidance he had given to him.
To his nation and his family Owen Collins was a hero, not just because he was a soldier and a prisoner of war, but because he was a wonderful father, keen businessman and expert craftsman and most of all, a good friend. Like the many members of the "Greatest Generation, " Owen Collins most important contributions to America did not come on the cold muddy battlefields of France or in the fact that he survived the horrors of the stalags. They came from his gifts to his community, his family and his friends.