Opinion
Jimmy Espy: The speaker's words
After graduating from West Georgia College in 1985, I worked briefly in Bremen, hometown of then-speaker of the House Tom Murphy.
Mr. Murphy never came into the office while I worked there, but on three occasions we crossed paths.
The first time was after a Bremen High football game. I had written the game story and showered praise on a Blue Devil defensive lineman who played a terrific game.
The following week I received a letter from the speaker. It turns out that the lineman who I had bragged on so mightily was his grandson. In his short note Mr. Murphy thanked me for the kind words in the game story and said he appreciated the newspaper’s overall sports coverage.
Over the 20-plus years since then I’ve written a ton of stories which celebrated the successes of common people. The number of appreciative letters I’ve received over that time period is relatively miniscule. That a man as busy and as important as Mr. Murphy took the time to do so still resonates.
My second encounter with the speaker came months later. Ever the knucklehead, I had succeeded in getting lost on the back roads of Haralson County (at least I think it was Haralson County). Hungry, I stopped at an out-of-the-way barbecue joint for lunch.
A few minutes after I arrived Mr. Murphy came in with two younger women and a handful of caterwauling kids.
We finished eating about the same time and Mr. Murphy walked up to the cashier as I was paying.
I had never met the man in person and didn’t want to bother him, so I just turned and nodded and said hello.
“Mr. Espy, how are you doing?” he replied. “How are things at the newspaper?”
I almost choked on my pork plate.
“Fine, Mr. Speaker,” I stammered.
How the heck did he know who I was?
We chatted about the weather for a few minutes before he and his posse departed.
I guess he knew my face from my newspaper column. but I was still astonished to think that a man who dealt with as many people as he did had filed my name and mug away in his voluminous mental files.
My third Tom Murphy sighting came after I had started writing more hard news stories and a weekly opinion column. I don’t recall the exact imbroglio, but the speaker was feuding with someone about something and was taking a pounding in the Atlanta newspapers over it.
Whatever the issue was, I knocked off a quick column chastising the speaker for his stand and accusing him of being less than straightforward in how he was handling the situation.
A few days later my publisher received a phone call from the speaker during which Mr. Murphy made it abundantly clear that he didn’t “want to to come home and read this @#$!^%#&*# in my local newspaper.”
My publisher, smiling, passed on the speaker’s criticism with the suggestion that I
“be careful” what I put in my column.
Over his many years in public office Mr. Murphy made the time to praise people he thought had done him a good turn.
I was fortunate enough to be one of those.
Mr. Murphy also made sure to vent his displeasure at those who perturbed him.
With perverse pride, I admit to earning my way onto that list as well.
I don’t attempt to draw any deep conclusions about the man based on my insignificant dealings with him. But I do know that he loved Georgia — particularly his West Georgia home — passionately.
He never forgot where he came from and those that knew him won’t ever forget what he did while he was with us.
Jimmy Espy is executive editor of The Daily Citizen.
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