Terrapin Station:

This story was compiled for the Finding Family contest in the San Angelo Standard-Times. Due to the coronavirus pandemic, Mom and I were unable to meet in person, so this was dictated by her to me via her Facebook Portal. The entry won a special recognition and a $20 gift card to the wonderful local independent bookstore, Old Town Books.

By Mary Jane Butler as told to Mary Beth Butler

Today, I am 89 years old, and I have been a resident of San Angelo for over 20 years. This is home now, but I have come a long way, from a vastly different place. I was born in Tallahassee, Florida in 1931, into a large and close family. My paternal grandparents lived a few blocks away and were very much a part of my everyday life. Today, I particularly remember my grandfather, William Lehnholf Marshall, who was born on April 28, 1873, and died on March 26, 1957. His life was a rich tapestry of creativity and public service, with the sea always in the background.

Granddaddy was the sixth son of John Marshall, who came to America from Portugal on a whaling ship as a 10-year-old cabin boy. At that time in Portugal, the inheritance structure dictated that the oldest son received all the property, the second son would be destined for the military, and the third son was dedicated to the priesthood. John Marshall did NOT want to be a priest, so he went to sea.

He entered the United States in Baltimore, Maryland. The immigration officer couldn’t spell his Portuguese name, so they chose his new name in honor of the Supreme Court’s fourth Justice, John Marshall. In 1862 John married Miss Wilhelmina Lehnholf, an immigrant from Prussia.

John and Wilhelmina had seven sons and a daughter, of which my Granddaddy Will was the sixth child (born in 1873). John had served in the Navy, and in Baltimore, he had a good career as an oysterman. Sadly, though, things went wrong for John, and he left his wife and sons on their own.

To help support Wilhelmina (who was called Minnie) and the younger children, the older boys signed on with a traveling circus that moved across the United States. They were also looking for a new place to settle down. They experienced lots of places, but when they reached Apalachicola, Florida, and smelled the salt water, they knew they were home. Apalachicola is a port city, the seat of Franklin County, Florida, in the “Big Bend” region of the Florida Panhandle. The Marshall boys sent for their mother and began a life of seafaring and construction. They built many boats and many beautiful homes in the city, as well as doing masonry and concrete work.

Back in Baltimore, John Marshall served for seven years as a janitor at the Friends Gospel Mission on Light Street. He died on February 5, 1885 and was buried in Mt. Olivet Cemetery.

As a young man in Apalachicola, Will Marshall was employed as a contractor and was also much engaged with fishing, shrimping, oystering, boat building, and other seagoing endeavors. In 1901, Will met Miss Grace Spiller, a belle of Tallahassee, who was serving as a nanny for some children in Carrabelle, Florida. He won her heart, and they were married at her mother’s home that May. They returned to their Apalachicola beach home to live. The home he built in Apalachicola is still occupied to this day.

When their first son, Lehnholf Spiller, was born in 1902, the consternation of the Tallahassee relatives and society was great! The distance between the two cities is only 75 miles, but in those days, that was a long trip. Within one year, the new family had moved back to Tallahassee. Lehnholf was my daddy, and their home was right across the street from that doting grandmother.

Will and Grace Marshall had three sons and a daughter. Will was a Boy Scout pioneer, a city commissioner, and Mayor of Tallahassee. He was also a 32^nd degree Mason and a leader of St. John’s Episcopal Church. The two stained glass windows on the back wall of St. John’s are dedicated to Will and Grace Marshall.

Before I could walk, Granddaddy and my daddy took me out onto the dock one day and my daddy tossed me into the water. The idea was to see if I would swim – my Granddaddy was right next to me for safety. I came up swimming!

Next door to Granddaddy’s house were two young boys. I knew them from school and we all played together. They were the same ages as my older cousin Grace and me. One of Granddaddy’s habits was to give us treats in the form of bread and butter and with sugar on top. As you can imagine we always gobbled it up. One day, he gave us the treat (or so we thought!) The two oldest took one bite and stopped. I stopped after two! The fourth child sat chewing stolidly, drooling as he ate. We had to tell him to stop eating: the treat was made with lard this time.

On his desk Granddaddy had a bone china skull with a detached lower jaw on a wire. He would set the jaw in motion and tell us it was saying, “Someday you’ll be just like me!” I knew I should be horrified, but I was fascinated. We’d always ask for him to make the skeleton do his thing before we went home from a visit.

I had a pet chicken and would put her in the basket of my bicycle and ride over to Granddaddy’s house to visit. He was always very amused to see me and my chicken.

My grandparents had a beach house at St. Teresa Beach, and we went to visit one or two times a month. My older cousin Grace and I were allowed to spend the night with them on our own because we were the oldest. It was a very great honor. Our friend Betty Ann Roberts lived down the beach and together we would put on plays. Everyone at the beach was requested to come and sit and watch. We’d climb in and out the porch window as a way of getting “on stage.” I remember Granddaddy just sitting and laughing.

Granddaddy also taught me not to dawdle over my food. He had tried everything he would think of to try to get me to eat faster. But I wouldn’t do it. So, he conspired with Grace and one morning after breakfast, he told Grace, “Okay, you can go swimming now. But Mary Jane, you have to stay here.” I protested! But he reminded me that not only had Grace finished her food, she had waited the required hour prior to swimming. I still had food on my plate and THEN an hour to go after I was done. What a sad lesson, and one I still remember!

One of my best memories of my life was singing on the porch together at the beach. We’d sing old songs from World War I like K-K-K-Katy, Keep the Home Fires Burning, and It’s a Long Way to Tipperary and others like Oh My Darling Clementine. We also sang lots of hymns.

When Social Security came in, Granddaddy told me, “I don’t need that, I have my own Social Security.” I said, “tell me about that.” He showed me an area behind his home where he’d built several small apartments and had planned on that as his retirement income. I’m sure he eventually accepted the payments from the government, too! The apartments were much in demand, because people who worked at the State Capitol always needed modest places to live.

After my daddy came home from World War II, he and Granddaddy built us a cinder block house down the beach about 2 miles. That house is still in my family, owned and maintained by my youngest daughter, and it is my idea of heaven on earth.

Granddaddy was an exceptionally talented carpenter and woodworker. I have a sheet of his business letterhead stationery which reads as follows: “W.L. Marshall Novelty Works. Termite Eradication. Tallahassee, Florida.” The following other items are noted: “Repair work a specialty” “Wire screens that work” “Cabinet Work of All Kinds” “Phone 121.” The footer states, “Marshall can do it!”

Grandma Grace died during the war. The daughter and daughters-in-law tried to help after her death so Granddaddy could remain in his home, but they had many responsibilities. The Marshalls had four female boarders in the upstairs bedrooms, and those ladies pitched in too. Mrs. Bessie Lee, a widow, was one of these. After some months, Will proposed marriage to her and she was his companion and caregiver until his death in 1957.

I genuinely believe that I led a charmed life in a loving and vigorous family. My grandfather and my father were both determined that the best thing for a child was to be exposed to boats and the ocean, and they were committed to providing those opportunities for their families. The influence of the Portuguese cabin boy remains strong in my family, extending to my grandchildren and great-grandchildren. I am grateful for William Lehnholf Marshall.