Roy Morgan moved to Bernardston from Wellesley when he was six years old. Adulthood took him to many other places, but he has fond memories of growing up in the small town. Six years ago, Morgan returned to Bernardston to live once again in his childhood home.
What he experienced between periods of Franklin County residence runs a fascinating gamut. Morgan is accustomed to living at the cutting edges of technology, yet he’s also drawn to beautiful antiquities. His passions for futuristic, contemporary and archaic make him a compelling model of the well-rounded person.
Morgan is knowledgeable about a dizzying range of topics, from the history of the Morgan horse to growing rhubarb to meeting members of the Apollo 7 space mission to antique sewing machines to amateur radio operation.
His last name is a good starting point: his family tree includes Justin Morgan (1747-1798), a teacher, composer, businessman and horseman from Springfield, who later moved to Randolph, Vermont.
Justin Morgan acquired a bay colt and named the horse “Figure.” According to the era’s practice, however, Figure (born in 1789) was referred to by his owner’s name. The rest is history. Figure was the founding sire of what became known as the Morgan breed.
“That first Morgan horse was well-mannered and strong,” said Roy Morgan, whose genetic tie to Justin Morgan is through Nathaniel Morgan (1671-1752), Justin’s grandfather, and Roy’s “many-times-over” great grandfather. “That animal could pull massive loads, but was also a good riding horse.”
Figure was legendary for his ability to walk, trot, run and pull in ways far superior to other horses. “His stud services were also highly prized,” said Roy Morgan. “He passed on superb characteristics not only to his offspring, but through several subsequent generations.”
Excellence seems to run in the family. Roy Morgan earned an electrical engineering degree at Tufts University, and put it to use in various ways. First, however, he served in the U.S. Navy as a helicopter pilot. Following active duty, he was a reservist for another 20 years.
Active duty had him tracking subs in the North Atlantic during the Vietnam War. “It was dangerous, but I felt lucky to pull that assignment rather than being sent to Vietnam,” Morgan said.
One non-combat mission was particularly unforgettable: Morgan was part of the team that picked up the Apollo 7 crew after their capsule returned to earth and splashed down in the late morning of October 22, 1968 – the day after Morgan’s 24th birthday. Morgan’s team retrieved the astronauts about 200 miles from Bermuda and eight miles from the recovery ship USS Essex.
“Those astronauts were the first people to orbit the earth in preparation for the moon mission,” said Morgan. “Years later, I was in the Smithsonian (Museum in Washington, DC) and saw a photo of the crew being picked up. I knew that photo was taken from the helicopter I piloted.”
One Apollo 7 vignette might help readers put into perspective cold and flu season discomforts: on day one of the ten-day mission, Commander Walter M. Schirra developed a bad cold; soon, lunar module pilot R. Walter Cunningham and command module pilot Donn F. Eisele caught the cold, as well.
Having a cold is no fun in any location, but the added factor of weightlessness leads to mucus accumulation in the nasal passages, without the relief of drainage. The only option is to blow the nose very hard, creating sharp pain in the ear drums. The crew had no choice but to endure their symptoms with the help of aspirin and decongestants.
Following his contact with astronauts, Morgan’s career continued with interesting twists and turns. He worked in highly technical posts, living mostly along the east coast, including Florida, Maryland, Rhode Island and the Boston area. He monitored automatic testing equipment for Terradyne Engineering, Inc., and later built project management software in Cambridge, MA.
He was the construction project manager for a commercial ski chalet in Vermont, and did a stint with the National Institutes of Standards and Technology. “In oil drilling, pipe threads must be standardized,” said Morgan. “In the medical field, cholesterol tests must be precise.” He helped develop interchange standards “so that fax machines could talk to each other.”
With such specialized acumen under his belt, one might think that this fellow is a total wonk. Yet Morgan’s life has many other facets, including an affinity for objects that people used many years ago to work and create, but that are now considered by many to be old-fashioned or even obsolete.
Morgan’s passion for antique sewing machines is a case in point. He loves the way they look, feel and work, and he doesn’t just own one or two. Morgan’s collection includes over 20 machines from yesteryear.
“I started with one, and then for a long time, I had just two,” Morgan said. He inherited from his mother the one that had been her mother’s. “My grandfather was a cabinetmaker in Quincy, and he purchased a sewing machine for my grandmother in 1908.” Machines made by the Singer company were considered the best, “but they were more expensive, so my grandmother’s machine was not a Singer.” Now, however, Morgan has quite a few Singers.
He recalls attending a dinner, years ago, at the United Church of Bernardston. “My mother was very elderly, and her dementia had set in. But as we sat there, she had an expression of startling clarity as she looked up at the curtains in the windows. She said, ‘I made those curtains using my mother’s sewing machine.’ I’ll never forget that,” Morgan said. “It planted a seed in me.”
While living in Maryland, Morgan attended a Unitarian church, and on the way to services one day, he stopped at a driveway sale. “I already owned a couple of sewing machines, so when I saw a very small Singer machine, I didn’t buy it.”
Arriving at the church, he encountered members of the congregation’s quilting group and described the sewing machine he’d decided not to buy. “Several of them said, ‘That’s the machine for quilting! If you don’t buy it, one of us will!’ ” So Morgan went back and purchased the iconic machine, called the Featherweight.
“It was made around 1935; it has gears, and a simple motor with a rubber belt,” Morgan said. “It doesn’t look complicated, because it isn’t. It’s extremely well-developed and made of aluminum, so it’s lightweight for lugging to quilting sessions and classes.”
Besides, Morgan said, “The cuteness factor is through the roof.” He likes that the machine is basic: “No zigzags or scallops. Just forward and backwards.” Morgan has made quilts and hopes to get back into it. “I think I’ll make a small quilt next time,” he said.
His love of things from the past extends to plants. When rhubarb plants needed to be moved from his property, he took great pains to find new homes for them, rather than just composting them.
“My folks had victory gardens in Wellesley during WWII,” said Morgan, “and when we moved to Bernardston, we had a medium-sized garden. My mother liked rhubarb sauce and strawberry-rhubarb pies, so rhubarb plants went in.” Morgan’s parents went to a neighboring farm carrying an empty bucket, and asked for manure.
“The farm had a big pig, two draft horses and chickens, so they had plenty of manure,” Morgan recalled. “The farmer told my parents to dig the holes, loosen the soil and mix it with manure, put in the plants, and then add more manure.”
Apparently, the farmer said, “Be careful: when those roots discover the manure, the plants will grow so fast, they’ll knock you over.” Always a fan of New England humor, Morgan related this wisdom with a chuckle, adding, “Some people say that God made rhubarb and strawberries come in at the same time because they belong together in a pie.”
Characteristically generous, Morgan shared rhubarb plants with fellow members of the Pleasant Street Community Garden in Greenfield, where he shares a plot with his friend Delia Nash, who lives in Cummington. “We’re aware that soil in our era has often been denatured due to chemical use over the years, and stripped of minerals,” said Morgan.
Nash chimed in: “We planted rhubarb at the community garden and gave them a boost with moo-doo (composted cow manure), biochar (lightweight residue of carbon and ashes), kelp powder, and azomite (a broad spectrum natural mineral product mined from a unique deposit in Utah).”
Nash is a retired special education teacher and amateur genealogist who also enjoys many forms of fiber arts. Morgan and Nash share many interests, including classical music, reading, nature and gardening … unless, of course, Morgan’s off doing qigong at the Hadley Senior Center or meeting up with his amateur radio club.
When asked whether amateur radio (also known as ham radio) is obsolete in our cell phone era, Morgan replied: “Try using a cell phone to call for emergency help during a running or cycling race up in the hilltowns!” He enjoys participating as support staff at such races, and notes that members of his club offer a valuable public service in spots where there’s no cell service.
Morgan shared a story about a goat that joined a race in the hilltowns. “The goat had been missing for a couple of days, and decided to hang out with some horses, because those bigger animals can keep coyotes at bay.” Morgan’s team radioed information about the goat, which resulted in a reunion with a relieved local farmer.
“By the way,” added Morgan, “Do you want to hear about the history and uses of Morse Code?”
Whatever Roy Morgan is up to on any given day, you can be certain that he’s not bored, nor even remotely boring. If you’re lucky enough to come across this Bernardston resident, set aside an hour or two and prepare to learn a lot about a lot of different things.