R.C. and Dollie Morrow (picture)
By: Sandy Williams Driver
My grandfather, R.C. Morrow, was a natural born healer. He was born on May 12, 1892 to a poor farming family in north Alabama. One of my first memories of him occurred in about 1971 when I was five years old. He knelt in front of me, took my tiny right hand in both of his, and rubbed the two ugly warts that had suddenly appeared on my index finger the previous week. He closed his eyes as he massaged my hand and his lips moved wordlessly to some ancient chant. After about a minute, he released me abruptly and stood up. Those nasty warts will be gone tomorrow morning when you wake up, he confidently smiled. I believed him and I ate breakfast the next morning with smooth hands.
As I grew older, I took several of my classmates who had warts or bumps to visit Grandpa. He welcomed every one of them and always took the time to heal them of their protuberances. As a child, I never questioned my grandfathers abilities. Everyone in our small community of Albertville, Alabama knew about his powers and respected him greatly.
Young mothers would stop by his little frame house on the outskirts of town carrying their newborn babies plagued with thrush, a vesicular disease in the mouth of infants caused by fungus. The crying infants always hushed when Grandpa picked them up. His sky blue eyes would become misty as he gently blew into their afflicted mouth. Over night, the ailment would mysteriously disappear.
I recently began to wonder about my renowned grandfather, who died when I was twelve years old, and decided to do a little research. It seems that he was the seventh son born to a seventh son. The old wives tale concerning that birth order varies in different cultures and in different countries. Most agree, however, that removing warts and curing the thrush are only two of the mystic powers held by this position.
The legend states that a seventh son who holds these abilities must pass on his powers before his death to his own seventh son. My family history research shows that George Morrow, my great-grandfather, was also a seventh son with healing powers.
Through aging relatives, I have learned that on his deathbed, he whispered the legendary secrets in his seventh sons ear. He, in turn, lost his gift for healing, but my grandfather received them. Even though R.C. Morrow had always been surprisingly healthy, he suddenly became ill the year he turned eight-four years old. His own seventh son began pleading with his father to pass on the family gift to him.
Grandfather, being an extremely stubborn man, refused to accept his impending death. No matter how much everyone in the family begged and pleaded with him, he adamantly held onto his powers. Even on his deathbed at the county hospital, he insisted he would get better. He simply would not relinquish his hold on the mysterious powers he possessed. He died on November 12, 1978, taking the family legend with him to his grave.
My research has turned up surprisingly little information on the powers of a seventh son. Besides the healing qualities of the birth order, other more frightening superstitions concerning the myth are not as heroic.
It seems that one of the requisites to becoming a vampire or a werewolf includes being the seventh son of a seventh son. Families in some countries, such as Argentina, worried so much about their sons born under such circumstances that these children would often be abandoned to orphanages or in rare instances, killed.
Even though R.C. Morrow loved his steaks rare and could often be found sitting on his front porch gazing at a full moon, he wasn’t any sort of monster. He was just one of the special healers of a long forgotten era who will always hold a special place in the hearts of many.
Published U.S. Legacies March 2004
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