My Dad, Judson C. Ward, Jr., was born in Marietta, Georgia on April 13, 1912 – the same weekend that the Titanic sunk.  His father said, “that was two shipwrecks on the same weekend.” Marietta is now a suburb of Atlanta, but in those days it was country.  They were a farm family with a grocery store on the town Square.  They would take a walk every Sunday on the Kennesaw Battlefield – a battle of the Civil War.  They found 17 bayonets and 1 pistol.  My Uncle Bill fired the pistol up the chimney and my grandmother “beat the hell out of him” but that’s another story.  My father made all A’s in every school he attended, was valedictorian, graduated from Emory University, obtained Masters from Emory, and then got his PhD from North Carolina. He recalled the end of WWI, people firing pistols into the air on the Marietta town square, and by the time WWII came around he was teaching at Alabama’s Teachers College.  He was about to be drafted when he volunteered into the Army – thinking volunteering would give him a better deal. After serving in various positions he ended up at the US Military Academy at West Point New York, where he taught for the duration of the war and met my mother.  By 1945, he’d risen the ranks to Major – I believe the Army wanted to keep him.

My Mom was working at West Point as a secretary.  They married in 1946 in the old chapel at West Point. My dad came back to Atlanta where became the Assistant State Education Commissioner, then the President of Georgia Southern University, and later served several “dean” positions at Emory, retiring as the Vice President. Semi-retired, he still served as the Dean of the Alumni until he passed away at 96.  The alumni house is named in his honor.

All those accomplishments are only a small part of the story. My dad was one of the most respected men in his community. He was honest, hard-working, devoted to family, friends and a real neighbor to everyone around. He taught Glenn Memorial Methodist Church’s adult Sunday school class for about 50 years; it’s now named in his honor. 

My father was the calm rock in the sometimes stormy sea of our family home. He never returned anyone’s nastiness; I never recall he ever raising his voice to anyone.  When I think of the word “loyal” the example that comes to mind is Dad – it might have been his greatest quality. I was amazed at his strength in returning kindness for unkindness. 

Of the blessings I’ve had in this world, he’s one of the best. He made this world a better place just by his being in it.