Henry Victor Morgan -- Whitman, Chickens, and a New Age Vision

My grandfather Henry Victor Morgan died when I was two. I met him, but I didn't know him. I do know that he was a big fan of Ralph Waldo Emerson and Walt Whitman (whom Murray called "dad's shaggy hero"). Henry Victor, or HVM, was born in 1865, so Emerson and Whitman, although not age mates, were both still active when he was a young man. He thought of them as living influences rather than historical figures. He was friends with Ezra Meeker, of Oregon Trail fame, which brings home how compressed the history of white people is in this part of the world.

HVM's and Adda's church at Division and North J in Tacoma            

HVM was a prolific writer, poet, and lecturer, mostly on metaphysical topics that I find hard to follow. He preached at his home church in Tacoma, the Church of the Healing Christ (now the Center for Spiritual Living, and reached an international audience through his monthly magazine, The Master Christian. 

 

Every now and then he wrote something I can latch on to.This is part of an diary entry that came into the hands of my friend and HVM appreciator, Jeff Margolis. I don't know if my grandfather ever published it.                                                                                                             

 

 

HVM also liked to poke a little fun at civic boosterism. The Northwest Poultry Association's annual exhibition at at the Armory was a big deal in the 1910 and '20s, drawing chickens and their champions from around the Northwest. Tacoma newspapers listed the winners and new breed favorites, and Henry Victor wrote a poem.
 

 

Poultry in Tacoma

Livin’ in Tacoma is one long delight,

                Just a been attendin’

                Poultry show tonight;

                Every hen a singin'

                Red and white and blue—

“Gee we like Tacoma, Bet your life we do!”

All together sayin’, “Isn’t this sublime?

Don’t you like Tacoma? Ain’t the climate fine?

Ever see such weather on a New Years Day

That is why we’re happy. That is why we lay.”

                One Rhode Island biddy

                Filled the room with cackle,

Said Tacoma’s Leghorn: “She is from Seattle.”

                Answered biddie’s Chanti

                Rolling up his eyes,

                “Yes, we’re from Seattle,

                And we won third prize.

                One lone bird seemed dumpy

                At the poultry feast

                Said the White Minorka,

                “She is from the east;

She is like a trolley, off the beaten track,

Dumpy? She is thinkin’ that she must go back.

                Then the roosters proudly

                All began to crow,

“No place like Tacoma! Watch Tacoma grow!”

 

New Age Vision

As a socialist, pacifist and egalitarian, HVM liked to rewrite familiar hymns such as "Battle Hymn of the Republic," which he renamed "New Age Vision," and "Onward Christian Soldiers." Here's the last verse of his Vision. We're not there yet...

I have seen the free born woman standing side by side with man.

I have seen the nations broaden till there is no tribe or clan.

And the war lords all have vanished in the love of man for man. 

God's truth is marching on.