Posted by Julius Walker on April 30, 2001 at 21:42:02 from 24.49.108.247 :
Elwin Humphries Powell Ed and I grew up on the bald plains of the Texas Panhandle. He was a year or so older and while this made a difference when we were small, by the time we went off to WWII, the differences were erased. Ed’s childhood was different from most of us, his mother was dead and his father was gone. His uncle was in the merchant marine and showed up from time to time. Ed lived in a bunkhouse in his brother-in-law’s back yard. It was neither well insulated nor well heated and Ed didn’t seem welcome in the house, at least by his brother-in-law. However, he had a more or less normal bringing-up (paper route, boy scouts, small town intrigues, etc. – if that is “normal”) at least to the time he left for the Navy. After the war he enrolled at Texas University with the thought of going to medical school. But he soon found Sociology and fell in love with it. We roomed together in Breckenridge Dorm then later rented a ten-room house with six others. Our largest investment was for a used twelve cubic foot refrigerator. We kept it well stocked with Lone Star Beer which was the fuel for many all night sessions. Frequently he and I took long walks late at night or early in the mornings in Austin’s beautiful artificial moonlight. Those were innocent days. We would stroll through the Capital in the wee hours discussing God’s existence, Texas politics, problems confronting the laborers of the world and myriad other ponderables. At times Ed cooked for the house. He had a set fee for his meals which usually were quite good, particularly if one had a taste for cooking oils. Once something went wrong with his cornbread. Although it was beautiful, it was hard as a brick. One of the guys chipped a hole in the corner and hung it in the living room. All this was the picture of a fellow who was hard working, scholarly, pensive and amiable. Beyond this he was religious. But like Will Rogers who belonged to no organized political party – he was a Democrat. Ed belonged to no church group – yet he lived the life of a Christian. In our many religious discussions he struggled mightily with the idea of God. Belief was not so difficult for me but I understood Ed’s problems with the concept. Nevertheless, he lived a life of respect and love for his fellow man. Actually, his regard for others was the hallmark of Ed’s life. While he never seemed to take himself too seriously, and was quick to deflate others when egos were on the rise, let a situation occur in which injustice threatened and Ed was ready to do battle. Maybe less in a physical sense than morally, through demonstrations, marches, placards, letters, etc. I remember he and I sent two or three telegrams to our congressman on different subjects. The idea to send them was his, not mine. Although he was really a died-in-the wool non-combatant, he was of a size and had an exterior which could make anyone think twice about challenging him. One weekend, when we were living in the big house, Ed and several of the guys drove down to Mexico. I’ve forgotten the destination but they ended up in a town where the actor Anthony Quinn was shooting a movie. The Texas party found itself in a bar late one evening when the movie clique came in. To his great chagrin, Ed turned and bumped rather solidly into the leading lady, who lost her balance and tumbled. Quinn was on his feet in a second reaching for Ed. After he got a good look at him he seemed more ready to accept Ed’s apology. I think Ed believed I “sold out” somewhat by working the Department of State. It was just more of the establishment than he could readily stomach, although he was never confrontational about it. However, he was always suspicious of the Department’s motives and ready to request explanations. Some times I could ally his fears but other times I had to side with him. Like anyone else who has worked there for any period of time, there were policies and actions I didn’t like. Ed had a quite special relationship with my mother. Of all my friends he was the only one I knew who corresponded with her regularly. This began before we were roommates and continued for many years afterwards. The letters were long and basically philosophical. There was a mutual trust and admiration which I don’t believe was equaled in any of her other correspondence. Often her letters to Ed were longer than what she sent to me and they were always on a different plane. I think that if mother had borne another child she would have wanted him to be Ed. I certainly know that if I had ever had a sibling, I would have wanted him to be Ed. Julius Walker Washington, D.C.