James D. Murphy, Jr.

My brother-in-law in Lakewood, Colorado, died New Year’s Day… January 1, 2006. Jimmy was a good man. A military funeral was conducted last Friday at Fort Logan. And there was a memorial service at Church of the Hills in Evergreen, Colorado, Saturday afternoon. Both Lakewood and Evergreen are suburbs of Denver; Evergreen is about 15 miles up into the mountains west of Denver. Lakewood is next door to Denver.

At the military funeral, family members observed the flag presentation protocol. A United States flag drapes the casket of a deceased veteran to honor his/her service to the country. The ceremonial folding and presentation of that flag is a moving tribute of lasting import to the veteran’s family.

The flag is placed so the union blue field is at the head and over the left shoulder of the veteran. After the playing of Taps, the flag is carefully folded into the symbolic tri-cornered shape. It then is presented as a keepsake to the next of kin or an appropriate family member.

At Jim Murphy’s military funeral, two soldiers folded the flag, and a third officer presented it to my sister, Joan (pronounced joh-ann). The protocol provided that the presenter stood facing the recipient (Joan) and held the folded flag waist high with the straight edge facing her.

In the ceremony, the officer leans toward the recipient and solemnly presents the flag. Each branch of service uses a slightly different wording for the flag presentation.

On January 6, 2006, the officer said to Joan: “This flag is presented on behalf of a grateful nation and the United States Army as a token of appreciation for your loved one’s honorable and faithful service.”

If the next of kin has expressed a religious preference or belief, as Joan had, the soldier adds: “God Bless You and this family, and God Bless the United States of America.”

The flag is now encased at Joan’s home in Lakewood.

At Fort Logan that day, an estimated 30 funerals were scheduled at the rate of two per hour. Normally, taps is heard from a bugle recording inside the bugle; most times, those attending the funeral are unaware that the soldier with the bugle is not playing. In the case of Jim Murphy, the bugler played Taps “live”; it was not a recording. After the service, Jim’s daughter Jan asked the bugler if, in fact, he had performed a recorded version. No, said the soldier, I came today to play. He said his mother had died two weeks before, and he was performing “live” as an additional special memorial to his mother.

There was another incident, too. As the family walked to their cars, Joan was stopped before getting into her car. She was told the soldiers would like to have the flag back. The soldiers were not satisfied with their fold, and wanted to re-complete it. This they did.

At the memorial service Saturday, The Reverend Phil Price offered the following comments in the category entitled “Reflections on a Christian Life”.

Jim was born in St. Louis, the eldest of five children.

In high school, Jim took part in Track and with the Debate Team. He was an Honor Roll student. He was chosen to serve as the “City Attorney” when the high school seniors were invited to fill the St. Louis city offices for a day. Jim’s mother became ill when he was 13. She died when Jim was 18. At the time Jim was attending St. Louis University, working toward degrees in Accounting and Law. Due to the family situation, his father asked him to seek a full-time job to help raise the other four children. This he did. And World War II was looming on the horizon. During this time he met Joan Pierron (MY SISTER) at Epworth League at the Maple Avenue Methodist Church. They were married in 1940. Jim was working as an Insurance Underwriter then. His aunt and uncle encouraged him to put his name in for a position with the U. S. Post Office.

Later, when he was in France in a foxhole on the bank of the Moselle River, he was notified that he had been promoted to Regular Clerk in a letter delivered by the (military) company clerk who crawled up to him. Jim was a Master Sergeant in the 1117th Combat Engineer Group. He served in the service three years.

Jim worked for the U. S. Postal Service for 30 years, holding positions from Clerk to Acting Assistant Supervisor of Personnel to Station Manager. He retired after serving as Manager of the Highlands Station Post Office in Denver.

What brought him from St. Louis to Denver? In 1957, he and Joan had a major decision to make. They moved to Denver and later to Mount Evans Lane in Idledale, about seven miles “below” Evergreen in the mountains west of Denver. The move was precipitated by health reasons for himself and oldest child, son Randy, who suffered from hayfever in the St. Louis climate. Moving to the mountains proved a great help. In fact, the hayfever never again was a problem.

While in Idledale, Jim served as Chairman of the Water Board, and after that he always was interested in water issues. Jim enjoyed trains and studied railroad management and advancement. He was an avid newspaper reader and paid close attention to local and world news.

At Church of the Hills, Jim was an Elder, and he and his wife, Joan, were active in the Presbyterian Mariner organization, holding the office of President (Skipper) several times from 1960 to 1990. Mariners was a great enrichment to Jim’s life.

Jim and Joan have three children: Randy, Jan and Jacques, and four grandchildren: Colin, Patrick, Austin and Sean, and four great-grandchildren: Stephanie, Ben, Katie and Nicole. Jim and Joan joined Church of the Hills in 1958. Their son Jacques was baptized at Church of the Hills in 1959 as were two of their grandsons, Colin, in 1968, and Sean, in 1990.

Jim enjoyed recently (just before Christmas, 2005) seeing his daughter Jan interviewed on TV about the book which was just published: OUTLAW TALES OF COLORADO.

Jim had an 87-year-long successful life as a citizen and a servant of the Lord.

This was the end of the Reflections by The Reverend Phil Price.

The memorial service included a service-opening violin solo by grandson 15-year-old Sean Murphy and a marimba solo by his 18-year-old brother Austin. Both are sons of Jacques Murphy, who now live in Atlanta.

My sister had a wonderful husband. All of us already miss him.