aroline Marshall DraughonLeah Rawls Atkins

Auburn, Alabama, 1996Reprint and Redesign by College of Liberal Arts, 2015

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Auburn, AlabamaSeptember 10, 2015

In 1996, the Auburn University Campus Club, under the leadership of President Mary Lou Matthews, published this biographical sketch of their founder, Caroline Marshall Draughon, on the occasion of Campus Club’s 50th anniversary. As Matthews so beautifully stated, “Mrs. Draughon lived the ‘Auburn Spirit’ and provided a link between generations of Auburn students, faculty, and alumni.”

Following the death of Mrs. Draughon in 2005, Auburn University renamed the Center for the Arts & Humanities in her honor, and on the occasion of the 30th anniversary of the Center, we offer this reprinted edition to honor her legacy and introduce her remarkable life story to another generation. Mrs. Draughon was a frequent attendee of public humanities programs at the Center’s home, Pebble Hill, and her infectious smile and warm spirit filled the hallway on a regular basis. We wish to thank Dr. Leah Rawls Atkins, the Center’s founding director, for the research and writing that culminated in a piece most worthy of a second printing. We also wish to thank Adriene Simon for her expert assistance with design, layout, and guiding the book through the printing process.

The Caroline Marshall Draughon Center for the Arts & Humanities strengthens the bonds between the College of Liberal Arts and the public by creating and implementing arts and humanities programs that explore our individual and collective experiences, values, and identifies through the past, in the present, and for the future. We are inspired by the life story of our namesake, and we believe you will be too.

Mark Wilson, Ph.D. Director

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Maryland after the War Between the States. His parents grew up together. After they were married, Eugene had entered the mercantile and advancing business in Hazen with his father, just as Hal would do in Orrville. In 1910 Orrville, an incorporated town of 255 people located sixteen miles southwest of Selma, was a stop on a branch line of the Louisville & Nashville Railroad. It was a quiet town of sandy streets, spreading oak trees that provided some relief from the heat of summer, and white houses with broad verandas where families gathered in the evenings. Hal Marshall attended the local schools and later Marion Institute. He fell in love with Mary Augusta

Caroline’s father, Hal Marshall, and his sister, Laura, standing before grandmother Marshall’s house.

In the fall of 1910 the young Marshall family of Orrville in Dallas County, Alabama, was expecting a second baby. Harry Eugene Marshall, called “Hal”

by his friends, operated a country store with his father, Eugene. The Marshall Mercantile Company, which faced the town square, furnished farm supplies, household goods, and staple food products to small farmers and planters and advanced them credit until the cotton crops were sold. Dallas County

Caroline’s grandparents, Mr. and Mrs. Eugene Mitchell Marshall, on the porch of their Orrville home with their two children, Hal and Laura, sitting on the steps.

Caroline Marshall Draughonby

Leah Rawls Atkins

is in the heart of the Alabama Black Belt, and cotton had been planted in its loamy dark soil since before the county was created by the Alabama territorial legislature in 1818. Hal Marshall’s maternal grandparents—the Boones and the Beairds—lived near Hazen in Dallas County, but they attended church in Orrville. His mother, Sallie Boone Beaird, was the first baby christened in the Orrville Methodist Church. The family later moved to Orrville, an old settlement that had grown up around Orr’s Mill soon after James F. Orr had a post office established there in 1842. Hal’s paternal grandparents emigrated to Dallas County from the eastern shore of

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Barnes of Demopolis when she was teaching music in Centerville, and they were married in 1907. They built a house next door to the Marshall home. It had a beveled-glass front door and was one block from the mercantile store. The house had large rooms, inlaid parquet floors in the parlor, and a paneled hall and dining room with sliding doors from the front hall. Both houses had wide porches and were circled by iron fences and beautiful gardens. The “Marshall Compound” was just down the street from the homes of uncles and aunts and first and second cousins. The Marshalls knew everyone in Orrville and were related by blood or marriage to most. Mary and Hal’s first child, a son, Harry Eugene

Marshall, Jr., was born in 1909. Soon Mary was expecting again, and having produced the first-born son of every southern father’s dream, this time she hoped for a girl. She was probably attended by Dr. Robert Sutton, but no stories survive about the birth. In any case, a baby girl with dark curls and beautiful green eyes arrived on October 29, 1910, and was named Caroline for her paternal great-aunt, Jane Caroline Beaird. Two more children would eventually join the family: Albert Barnes Marshall and Sally Boone Beaird Marshall. In 1920 Orrville was a wonderful place to be a child, and the Marshall houses provided ample room for

Caroline’s aunt, Laura Marshall

Stevens, with her mother, Caroline’s

grandmother, Sallie Boone Beaird

Marshall. The Hal Marshall house

in the background was built in 1907,

three years before Caroline was born.

games and play activities. There were two garages, a big barn with a loft, vegetable gardens, and a green pasture with a bubbling clear-water branch running through it. Behind the fields a stand of tall pine trees served as a background for the home place. When grandfather Marshall died soon after Caroline was born, his daughter Laura, or “Loll” as the family called her, came home with her husband and daughter, Virginia. They lived with grandmother Marshall, and

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Loll’s husband, Wade Stevens, worked in the Marshall store as clerk and buyer. The extended family played an important role in Caroline’s life, and she remembers that in those years “we had time to love, to enjoy, and appreciate each other, as well as to disagree on occasion.” The children in the two houses had many cousins to play with, and there were children living with their parents in two servant houses in the rear yard of grandmother Marshall’s house. Finding someone to play baseball, catch crawfish in the little creek, or frolic in a game of hide-and-go-seek around the barn was no problem. The girls played paper dolls with figures and clothes cut from the pages of the Sear Roebuck catalog, and all the children enjoyed playing Rook. On summer nights they caught lightning bugs in small jars. After school the children would walk down to Mr. Ben Wilson’s syrup mill and watch the men grind sugarcane and boil it into syrup. Mr. Wilson would give them a dipper taste of the cane juice or the warm syrup. After the first bitter freeze, the children looked forward to the annual “hog killing.” This involved the entire household and secured a fresh supply of pork chops, hams, and sausage. In summertime there were watermelon cuttings, homemade ice cream parties, and countywide barbecues. In the fall, Caroline remembers, she “drifted off to sleep” to the sound of creaking wagons loaded with cotton heading down the road for the gin so their drivers could be first in line at daybreak. Although there were servants to help with the cooking, cleaning, and yard work, all the children had Harry, Albert, and Caroline Marshall.

Hal Marshall with his mother "Grandmother Marshall", and his first two children, Harry and Caroline

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chores to do. They were expected to keep their rooms clean. Aunt Sarah did the cooking, and the girls learned to make simple dishes. General Washington, an elderly

children and his niece Virginia. On Sundays, while Mary sang in the church choir, Hal sat with the children. The Marshall children often walked down to the store. They loved to play hide-and-go-seek through the aisles and under the counters and romp on the cotton bales piled on the platform in the back. On Saturday the boys sold hot dogs with mustard and kraut for a nickel from a stand in front of the store. Frequently, the children sat quietly for hours listening to their father’s stories. Hal Marshall had a reputation as a fine raconteur. He

Drusilla Whitt with Harry and Caroline Marshall.

Mary (Mrs. Hal) Marshall and her four children, Caroline, Albert, baby Sally, and Harry.

wisdom with her and making sure she stayed well and healthy. Drusilla expected her to have the best manners, and she disciplined all the children when they were disorderly. When the Marshalls went to Selma for a play or the opera, Drusilla supervised pillow fights between Caroline and Albert and slept on a pallet next to Caroline’s bed. Hal Marshall always found time to spend with his

black man, was a combination yardman, gardener, milkman, and chauffeur, but the boys assisted. For all of Caroline’s growing-up memory, Drusilla Whitt, her beloved mammy, lived alone in a small house behind her parents’ home. Drusilla took the greatest care of Caroline, sharing folk

loved a good joke, and for customers at the red-brick Marshall Mercantile a visit included swapping stories with him. Visitors relaxed on the long wooden benches or cane chairs in front of the store and rested under the shade of the canopy that hung to the street. On Saturdays, when the town was crowded, the seats in front of Marshall Mercantile were filled. People sat, visited, and watched other shoppers. The long store had

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with tools, farm supplies, golden oak or pine furniture, coffins, harnesses, and leather goods adjoined the store. A large covered platform at the rear held the weights farmers used to weigh their cotton before hauling it to Selma. Caroline “grew up in a home where music, art, and

three sections. Groceries, brooms, barrels of pickled pig feet, huge glass jars filled with candy, and staples were in one area. Nice shoes and leather boots were in the middle, and piece goods, hats, men’s clothing, a few ready-made garments, and toiletries, including Hoyt’s Cologne, were in the third section. A warehouse filled

In the early twenties, a farmer could buy all he needed from Marshall Mercantile. Wade Stevens and Taylor Shields with Hal Marshall, who is wearing hat and sweater.

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the love of literature were appreciated.” Her mother played the piano, and the family often gathered to sing to her accompaniment. The Marshalls were members of the Episcopal Church in Selma. Because the gravel road to Selma made for such a long journey, the family attended the local Methodist Sunday school and church and worshiped every other Sunday with the Baptists at an eleven o’clock service. Whenever there was a family religious occasion, the Episcopal rector came from Selma and conducted weddings, christenings, and funerals in grandmother Marshall’s parlor. During the summer months Caroline’s great-aunt, Jane Caroline Beaird, whom the children called “Kiel,”

came to live with her sister, grandmother Marshall. She was a “maiden lady” who had broken her hip at twelve and, because it did not heal properly, was forced to use crutches the rest of her life. She taught art and math at the prestigious Lulie Compton Seminary for Young Ladies in Birmingham. Her arrival in Orrville for holidays and at the beginning of summer was always anticipated with excitement, for she was a favorite with the children, as they were with her. Kiel would come to Selma on the Southern Railroad, and father Marshall would drive the family to meet the train. During the drive, Mary would warn her children not to ask Kiel what she had brought to them “because it was bad manners.” But, Caroline remembers, “before Kiel could get settled in the automobile” the children “couldn’t wait” to ask, “What did you bring us?” She never failed them. Beautiful and unusual handmade gifts were carefully packed in her luggage—stuffed dolls, handpainted china ring holders, perhaps a pretty pincushion, or a new dress. Aunt Kiel was especially close to Caroline, and all her life, they shared a love for each other. Kiel was a talented seamstress and made all of Caroline’s clothes. She selected the most beautiful fabrics and laces in Birmingham for her creations, and she took pride in her ruffles, tucks, and frills. During World War I she made Caroline a white uniform just like the Red Cross ladies wore, and Caroline joined them to help sell soft drinks to raise money for the war. Aunt Kiel had a great influence on Caroline’s life. She carefully oversaw Caroline’s education in the local Orrville grammar school, checking her progress each

Caroline and her great-aunt Jane Caroline Beaird, “Kiel,” visited

the Lake Junaluska, North Carolina, summer home of the

F.M. Jackson family in 1921 when Caroline was eleven.

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summer and enriching Caroline’s education by reading to her and making sure she had an appreciation for art and the ability to do her math problems correctly. Reading was important in the Marshall household, and Aunt Kiel made certain Caroline had the right books to read and that she knew the classics. She instilled in Caroline a love for learning and an understanding that education is a lifelong adventure. She taught Caroline about life outside Orrville and Selma, about the world beyond Montgomery and Birmingham. The summer before Caroline’s last year in high school, she and Kiel took an Elliott train tour to Canada and the Far West. They visited Banff, Lake Louise, Vancouver, Seattle, San Francisco, Yellowstone Park, and Denver. The Marshall family had the security of a long lineage in the Black Belt, and although they were one of the wealthiest families in Orrville, they worked hard and spent their money carefully and wisely. Caroline’s mother and her grandmother Marshall directed their households with the refinement and good taste typical of early twentieth-century southern small-town life. Good manners, responsible behavior, and proper conduct had nothing to do with money. The Marshall and Beaird women taught Caroline the graces and polite etiquette that southern society expected of a lady, and these manners were so instilled into Caroline’s being that she wore them as naturally as one would a comfortable old coat so they flowed from her with ease and without affectation. Caroline Marshall grew up surrounded by people who loved her, in a little place, almost an enchanted

land, where she learned to love people easily and to give of herself openly and with grace. Living in a privileged society where race and class meant everything, Caroline’s father insisted that his children “be gracious and kind and thoughtful to everyone, no matter their status in life.” She learned to be grateful to those who did things for her and to express her appreciation quickly with a sincere heart. In a southern world so segregated by law and custom, she grew up loving Drusilla, her mammy, with a closeness that lasted all Drusilla’s life. She moved comfortably in a black world that southern city-dwellers and northerners found awkward, and her relationships with servants were always close and congenial. Caroline attended the Orrville grammar school, but because the only accredited high school was in Selma, she was allowed to drive to Selma in her T-model Ford. Two local boys who attended the Dinkins Training School in Selma rode with her. She excelled in English, French, and history and struggled with chemistry and math, despite Kiel’s tutoring. Caroline was a member of the student council and the dramatic club and was homeroom chairman. During this time Caroline developed an appreciation for boys. At Selma High School she had boyfriends by the dozens. One friend and classmate was Ralph “Shug” Jordan, whom her husband would hire in 1951 as Auburn’s football coach. Caroline graduated from Selma High School in 1927 and enrolled in the Woman’s College of Alabama, now Huntingdon College, in Montgomery. She was elected president of her freshman class and took a leadership

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role in campus activities. She majored in English, French, and home economics and was a member of Kappa Kappa Sorority and the Pan-Hellenic Council. In 1930 she was advertising manager of the student newspaper, Wo-Co-Ala News. She recalled that she “dated every weekend” and the social life in Alabama’s capital city was exciting. Life at Huntingdon opened new doors for Caroline. She enjoyed the friendship of girls, the formal dinners, and the challenging coursework. In the summer of 1929 Caroline came to Auburn to attend summer courses at the Alabama Polytechnic Institute (A.P.I.). She rented a room from Dr. and Mrs. Isaac S. McAdory, who lived in the two-story house at the corner of Burton and East Magnolia. Caroline took her meals at Mrs. Gertrude Lane’s boarding house on Gay Street. Tommy Amason, who “hopped tables” for Mrs. Lane that summer, remembered Caroline Marshall as “not only beautiful” but also “the most polite and

cheerful young lady” he served. Caroline’s classes were taught by Miss Louise Glanton on the third floor of Comer Hall. She studied during the day and remembers that she “partied and dated at night. . . After experiencing the strict regimen at Huntingdon, I was shocked and happily surprised at being able to attend parties in the fraternity houses unchaperoned.” Although it was during prohibition, she saw “that horrible drink called ‘Home Brew’ being made in the fraternity bathtubs.”

Mr. and Mrs. Hal Marshall, Sr.

Caroline while she was a student at Huntingdon College.

That summer she ran into Ralph Draughon, or rather he ran into her—deliberately. She had met him earlier in Orrville, when he came in 1928 to be principal of the new high school, but since he was older than she was, she “didn’t pay any attention to him.” Ralph was a native of Hartford and had graduated from A.P.I. in 1922. He had returned to Auburn to work on a master’s degree and was living upstairs at Miss Cora Hardy’s (on East Magnolia Avenue one door from the corner of College Street). One afternoon when he was typing away on his thesis, he looked out his window and saw Caroline walking in front of Toomer’s Hardware (now Auburn Hardware). She was, so all the stories go from those who were in Auburn that summer, a “picture of loveliness,” a

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“beautiful girl with sparkling eyes that danced when you spoke to her.” Ralph must have raced down the stairs, because he caught up with her well before she reached the corner of Gay Street. He walked her down to Mrs. McAdory’s, and they sat on the porch swing. Although this was not an official date, it was the beginning of a close and loving relationship that would last all his life. When summer ended Caroline returned to

in October 1929. The ensuing depression devastated Hal Marshall’s business. Cotton fell to five cents a pound, and farmers to whom he had advanced credit were unable to pay him and he could not pay his own bills. The depression destroyed the family’s financial security; however, through Kiel’s help, Caroline was able to return to Huntingdon and complete her degree. The mettle of a person’s character is tested in adversity, and the Marshall women found ways to survive. Mary

Ralph B. Draughon taken before he came to Orrville in 1928 to be the principal of the new high school.

Huntingdon for her junior year, and Ralph Draughon went back to his job as principal of Orrville High School. In September she returned home after the Friday night Montgomery football game between Auburn and Birmingham-Southern. Caroline was sitting in a car in Selma while her date went inside a store, and Ralph walked up. He asked her for a date, and she accepted, breaking her date to do so. That night Ralph called at the Marshall home in Orrville, and after sitting in the parlor listening to Mrs. Marshall play Liebestraum on the piano, he said to Caroline, “Let’s go outside to see if there’s a moon.” She remembered that “the moon was shining brightly!” The courtship was marred only by the New York Stock Market crash

sold fresh vegetables from her garden and canned tomatoes and jelly from her kitchen. She raised and sold giant camellias. Hal’s appointment as U.S. Postmaster for Orrville kept the family afloat, but barely. Caroline, vice-president of her class, graduated from Huntingdon College in the spring of 1931. The wedding of Caroline Marshall and Ralph Draughon on June 9, 1931, in her home in Orrville took place in the depths of the depression. Mary had gathered every shasta daisy in town to decorate the dining room, which was set up with chairs for family and close friends. The wedding dress was purchased, but her trousseau was left over from Kiel’s creations that Caroline had taken to college. Caroline and Ralph were married by the Episcopal rector

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from Selma, and after the reception, the couple drove to Mobile in Ralph’s Ford coupe for their honeymoon. The next day they crossed the bay to Bon Secour where they had rented Governor Bibb Graves’ cabin at Cooper’s Fish Camp. It was a sparsely furnished house with no

East Magnolia and DeBardeleben. Their rent was $30 a month. Because her brother Albert and Ralph’s brother, James, had no money and were eager to attend college, they brought the boys to Auburn. They both lived with the Draughons, and Caroline cooked for all three of her “men” on a four-eye burner. The next year, the boys moved out because Caroline was expecting a baby, and the Draughons moved down the street to the downstairs apartment in a house on the corner of East Magnolia and Ross, the present location of The Back Porch. The sudden death of Professor William Phillips Brown gave Professor Draughon a permanent position, and they never left Auburn. Daughter Ann was born in 1932, and Ralph Jr., called “Bubba” as a child, arrived in 1935. When Dr. Petrie wrote a friend and updated him on the history faculty’s activities, he reported that “Draughon is walking the floor at night with the baby.” Ralph hoped to continue his studies and earn a doctoral degree in political science. He received a small grant and was able to spend one summer at the University of Chicago, but was never able to return. These were the hard years of the depression. Caroline recalls that “we had no money—nothing but love, and plenty of friends who were in the same boat.” At times the college had insufficient funds to draw salary checks for faculty and staff because state funds were only partly appropriated. But local merchants were generous with credit, and the Draughons charged at Hudson’s Grocery, at William McDow Moore’s Market, and at Homer Wright’s drugstore. The family went to movies

Caroline with her father shortly before he died.

indoor plumbing. It was situated close to the water, and they spent time swimming and fishing, sports which they would enjoy for years. The newlyweds returned to Orrville, but before they were able to settle in, Dr. George Petrie called from Auburn and asked Ralph to meet him in Montgomery. While Ralph lunched

with the head of Auburn’s history department, Caroline went shopping. Dr. Petrie asked Ralph to come and teach one year for a professor who had been forced to take a leave of absence because of illness. This was an exciting opportunity. After talking to Caroline, Ralph accepted the offer and resigned his position with the Orrville school. In the fall of 1931, they rented the upstairs apartment of the old stone Lawson house, located on the corner of

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for a dime each, “cheered the Auburn Tigers,” joined community step sings in front of Langdon Hall, and “sat around the drugstores drinking five-cent cokes” and discussing “the latest books or delving into Auburn’s history.” When her sister, grand-mother Marshall, died, Aunt Kiel came to Auburn to live with the Draughon family. The family was crowded for a while, but managed to move closer to town: to a large house on East Magnolia, one door from Gay Street. Kiel sewed for Caroline and Ann and helped look after the children. Ann came to love Kiel as much as her mother did and every morning would jump into Kiel’s bed, bringing her cat with her. The Draughons sold their only car in order to pay Dr. Cecil Yarbrough for delivering the children and by 1937 were finally out of debt. In 1935 Dr. Luther N. Duncan, director of the

Agricultural Extension Service, was made president of A.P.I. Two years later President Duncan asked Ralph to leave Samford’s third-floor history department and come to the President’s Office to serve as his executive secretary. This offer surprised and puzzled the Draughons because the young professor really did not know President Duncan. But Ralph was

The Draughon family, 1934.

highly regarded by George Petrie, and his reputation as a thorough and demanding teacher was as well-known as his amiable manner and his genuine interest in his students. Ralph made no secret of his love for Auburn and his commitment to its mission of educating the state’s young people. Coming from extension, Duncan recognized that he needed an administrative assistant who could provide

Caroline and daughter Ann, 1932.

leadership to the academic faculty. Duncan’s forte was garnering much-needed financial support from the state and from federal New Deal legislation; meanwhile, Professor Draughon nurtured the academic programs and strengthened the quality of the faculty. Ralph was also made secretary to the Board of Trustees and in 1944 became director of instruction. In 1940 two of Caroline’s friends, Henrietta Davis and Jane Yarbrough, talked her into joining them as Lee County U.S. Census takers. This would be rendering a public service for which they would be paid, and besides, they said, it would be a great adventure. Caroline was assigned the southeastern part of the

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county; so every morning for weeks she would start out down the dirt and gravel roads of rural Lee County, stopping at every house. She knocked on doors and visited with the families, asking the questions on the government form and recording their answers. Her friendly manner, charm, and grace impressed the people, while her heart was touched by the poverty she often found. She always remembered those families, their names, and the conditions of their lives and never forgot that this “was the only money I ever earned in my entire life!” While the family was still living in the big old house on East Magnolia, an incident occurred that illustrates Caroline’s patient and caring nature. Ralph

smaller house in Pinedale. Ann remembered Auburn in those days as a place where she could “ride my tricycle all over town.” These were happy years, despite the illness that took Kiel from them. Caroline nursed her great-aunt with the help of Dora Foote and Annie Foster, who was there with Caroline the night Kiel died. Despite the rationing and restrictions that went with World War II, the Draughons managed. Money came easier, and Caroline often entertained friends, such as Neil and Henrietta Davis, with waffle suppers. The children were growing up, and leisure days were spent at Lake Auburn, fishing, picnicking, and swimming. Caroline was a strong swimmer since she learned to swim as a child in Johnson’s Mill Pond in Dallas County, and she taught most of Ann and Ralph Jr.’s friends to swim at Lake Auburn. She spent her days shepherding the children and being a room mother at school. Caroline led a busy social life. She poured tea at college functions, attended meetings of the United Daughters of the Confederacy, PEO, and the Woman’s Club, played bridge, or joined her sewing club for lunch. She was active in the Episcopal Church Women and the Altar Guild. Caroline wanted her children to take advantage of every cultural activity that was scheduled on the A.P.I. campus. They attended all the Great Artist Series that were booked in Langdon Hall, and Ann remembers seeing the real Von Trapp Singers performing during World War II and Charles Laughton rendering a dramatic reading. Caroline drove the children to Montgomery to see the touring Broadway production of

Caroline's Aunt Kiel came to Auburn to live with Caroline and her family after her sister died.

Jr. remembers that he was afraid of noises in the attic and was certain ghosts were about. Caroline gently took him by the hand, and they went to the attic together to see what was there so he would not be frightened. “She taught him,” his sister Ann recalled, “to look at fear and deal with it in a very rational way.” In 1940 the Draughon family moved away from town to a newer but

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John Brown’s Body and a performance by Spike Jones. They attended the plays, shows, and recitals of the students and faculty of the college. But whatever they did and wherever she took them, Caroline made it fun and exciting. Because of gas rationing during the World War, the Draughon family walked wherever they could. Ralph Jr. recalls that she took them, “trailing behind her like ducks in a row,” to the step sings at Langdon Hall on summer nights. The Draughons were closely involved with helping the college adapt to wartime conditions and the government’s call for officer training programs. The college went on the quarter system, enrollment climbed, and more demands were placed upon faculty as many young professors left for military duties. The influx of young men from all over the country who came as part of Army and Navy programs housed at Auburn created a more cosmopolitan student body. After the war, Ralph was responsible for re-building the college faculty and providing for thousands of additional students. Veterans attending Auburn on the G.I. Bill swelled enrollment. The larger student body strained both the facilities of the college and the ability of the campus and town to house and feed so many young people. When President Duncan became ill in 1947, Professor Draughon was responsible for running the college. When Duncan died on July 26, 1947, Draughon was appointed acting president. He began working with the trustee committee to find a new president, contacting names of individuals who should be considered in a nationwide presidential search. Many outstanding

Caroline and Ralph Jr.

educators and businessmen visited the campus and were entertained at the Draughon home in Pinedale. Caroline was allowed to turn in an expense form to the A.P.I. business office of not more than $2.50 per person. Although many candidates were interviewed by the board, after twelve months the trustees selected Ralph as president. In 1948 when Governor James E. Folsom, chairman of the trustees, called Professor Draughon and reporters into the room and announced the board’s decision, Draughon was caught by surprise. The newspaper noted that the professor was “visibly moved.” Draughon said that “it was the greatest honor that could come to any member of the staff at Auburn.” After expressing his appreciation to the governor and the trustees, he found it difficult to say more, so he concluded his remarks by inviting everyone “to go and eat.” In an interview with the Birmingham News a few weeks after being named president, Draughon observed that it was “a big job for a fisherman.” The newspaper reported that gardening was Caroline’s “retreat, as

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fishing is her husband’s. Flower arrangement . . . the P.T.A . . . company for dinner . . .the children’s clothes . . . a new book . . . a fishing trip, all must be fitted into her crowded days.” The Auburn Bulletin noted that the new first lady “sews well, cooks well, and can even dress a string of fish caught by her fisherman husband with as much skill as a doctor wields a scalpel.” The Draughons stayed in their Pinedale house for some months while the president’s home was refurbished. The Southern and Colonial Revival style house, completed in 1939 as a Public Works Administration project, had been vacant for more than a year. Caroline furnished the sun room with casual rattan furniture and worked to make the 6,750 square-

foot house into an official residence to entertain guests of Auburn. Donations of furniture included the fine secretary and the grandfather clock that once belonged to an Alabama governor and traveled from Montgomery to Auburn in a hearse. The Draughons were fortunate to have Ruth Dallas assist in the kitchen and Jim Smith to help them run the house. He had come to work for Dr. Duncan as a young man, and Mrs. Duncan had taught him many things about polishing brass and silver, serving formal dinners, and directing the cleaning and upkeep of the house. Jim drove the president to out-of-town meetings and patiently waited during even the longest conference. He knew his way around Montgomery and Birmingham and recognized trustees and prominent alumni by name. The official residence was also home to the Draughon children, and Caroline wanted it to be comfortable and inviting. The children were “just a little afraid of the big house.” Ann, a high school student, was concerned that her friends would not come to visit and would be uneasy parking their jalopies in such “an imposing driveway.” Years later when Ralph Jr., Ann, and Caroline were taking a nostalgic tour of the second floor of the house with Ann Martin, the current first lady asked “who lived in this small bedroom with the small closet?” Ralph immediately said, “I did, but I didn’t care about the size of the closet. I liked the room because I could go out the window, onto the roof of the back porch, and down the drainpipe, and Mother would never know that I was gone!” To which his mother replied, “I didn’t know that!”

Lake Auburn was a favorite place for picnics, swimming, and fishing. Caroline Draughon with Dr. Pat Basore getting ready for a picnic.

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Ralph Jr. recalls that the A.P.I. official residence had been “known locally as the president’s mansion. My mother put a stop to that. It became the president’s home, and she corrected people when they called it by the old designation.” Although Caroline was hostess for large parties and official functions, Neil Davis believes Caroline’s “greatest contribution to Auburn” was “in the family-like entertaining of small groups of people who loved Auburn.” The couple’s warmth and compassion endeared them to Auburn students, townspeople, and alumni. The atmosphere they fostered caused visitors to

comment that Auburn was more than a college; it was a way of life. Although President Draughon had received an honorary doctor of laws degree from Birmingham-Southern College and his title of doctor or president was used by most people, to old friends and townspeople he was affectionately called “’Fessor Draughon.” He called his wife “Miss Caroline” and later “the Chancellor of Auburn University.” Close friends described President Draughon as both “ornery” and “lovable,” a direct man who “manages to confound and confuse the enemy at all

The Auburn United Daughters of the Confederacy placed a marker on the front of the Scott-Yarbrough House (Pebble Hill) about 1937 to mark William Lowndes Yancey’s use of the house as a summer home in the 1850s. Left to right: Dean John J. Wilmore, Caroline Draughon, Dean George Petrie, Molly Hollifield Jones, Colonel Thomas D. Samford, and Letty (Mrs. Bennett Battle) Ross. Caroline’s suit had belonged to Ralph, but Kiel had re-made it for her.

The Draughon family when they were living on Pinedale: Ralph Jr.(“Bubba”), Caroline, Ralph, and Ann.

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times.” Associates described him as a good educator, but not “a stuffed shirt.” Draughon himself claimed the title of the “best fly fisherman” but the “worst wing shot in the whole United States.” While Ralph Draughon was acting president, two new faculty wives, Amy Westveld (Mrs. R.H.) and Ada Stevens (Mrs. Terrell), organized a group to help new faculty wives meet each other and learn about the Auburn community. The Newcomers Club began meeting in 1946 with Mrs. Westveld as president. The club was so successful that, as Caroline recalled, “the older faculty wives were a bit jealous of the good times the Newcomers were having.” On March 8, 1948, Caroline wrote a letter to Dean of Women

Katharine Cater, Dean of the School of Home Economics Dana Gatchell, and the wives of all A.P.I. deans and administrative officers inviting them to attend an informal meeting at Social Center (Cater Hall) to discuss “the need for a campus club” that might meet monthly and sponsor faculty receptions, dances, and other projects. At the meeting two days later, Miss Gatchell moved for the organization of a campus club at A.P.I., and the motion carried unanimously. A steering committee was appointed, and the next month it reported a constitution with dues at $1 a year. Caroline noted that the original Campus Club included the wives of A.P.I. trustees, including the governor’s wife, because she believed that

Caroline often enjoyed sewing and knitting.

Caroline’s family in the sun room of the president’s home after Ralph was named president. Vassie (Mrs. John Draughon), mother of the president, Ralph, Caroline, Ann, and Ralph Jr.

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“it was very important to involve the trustees’ wives in the social life of the campus.” The first meeting was a membership tea on the lawn of the president’s home on May 21, 1948, and the president’s wife was to be the “Chairman of the Day.” Caroline was so good with people that very soon she was able to call everyone by name. In these years Campus Club events were all best-dress, white-gloves-and-hat affairs. Delphine Thomas, whose husband, Albert, was a professor in Engineering, was elected the first president. Within a few weeks, 275 members had paid their dues. The fall meeting of Campus Club, which included the members of the Newcomers Club, was held in the dining hall of the new men’s dormitory on West Magnolia Avenue. Mary Greene, wife of veterinary professor Jim Greene, was “Chairman of the Day.” Caroline remained an advisor to the Campus Club board for fourteen years. Sometimes she was called upon to smooth over differences and misunderstandings and to handle difficult people. Once a department head’s wife suggested to a professor’s wife from her husband’s department that she “had better go along” with her position regarding a Campus Club matter, which was not the direction the board supported. Caroline reassured the young woman, telling her, “I’ll see that it is done. And don’t you worry.” Caroline always had a way of handling unpleasant people, and her family marveled at how she managed to charm even the most dyspeptic politician, trustee, or alumnus. Nancy Shivers has observed that “people behave better around Caroline Draughon.”

Caroline’s genuine interest in people and her sense of caring are illustrated in many stories. Ruth Dallas baked marvelous pound cakes, and whenever there was sickness or a death in a faculty family, Caroline would arrive with one of Ruth’s pound cakes, usually decorated with a flower or something special. Often the family was not aware that she knew them and was surprised she had knowledge of their adversity. Leon

Caroline loved to work in her flower garden at the president’s home.

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Cain recalls a couple who had driven a long way to see their son graduate from Auburn, but arrived too late to get inside Langdon Hall. Caroline met them at the front steps, immediately understood what had happened, and took them around to the back steps and helped them find seats at the front. Throughout Draughon’s years in the president’s office, he had worked with the A.P.I. Athletic Department to resume football games with the University of Alabama. The two teams had not played since the 1907 game ended in a 6-6 tie. Despite the myth that a fight caused the annual game to be scrapped, scheduling problems in 1908 had prevented the teams from meeting and the series was simply not renewed. President Draughon had a part in re-scheduling Alabama in 1948, to the delight of the number-one Auburn fan at his house. Caroline particularly enjoyed football season and thrived on all the added social responsibility. Following Auburn’s winless season in 1950, there was pressure from alumni, especially Governor Gordon Persons, for President Draughon to fire the football coach. President Draughon wanted a winning team, but he resisted pressure. Finally, he released the coach and appointed a search committee chaired by the new athletic director, Jeff Beard. One winter night the committee and President Draughon met at the president’s home to interview the last candidate. With the deadline for the morning papers moving close, the front porch was covered with sports reporters peering in the windows and waiting for an announcement.

Caroline and Ralph at a dance in the home of Mr. and Mrs. Sheldon Toomer.

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Caroline, after making sure there was plenty of coffee and food for the committee working in the sunroom, retreated to the kitchen. She answered a knock at the back door and greeted young Bill Beckwith, who was then still a student but had been elevated to the number-one man in the athletic publicity office. He was escorting all the sports writers. He asked if they could please come in and get warm and maybe have some coffee. “Of course,” replied Caroline. She shut all the doors to the rest of the house; then in the small kitchen she served coffee and rolls to the reporters, who took turns going to the front of the house to look in the windows and make sure nothing was being missed. Caroline was especially interested in who was hired because the coach being interviewed was “Shug” Jordan, a 1929 classmate of hers at Selma High School. Jordan was hired that night at a salary of $12,000 a year, and the announcement was made at 12:30 a.m. to a crowd of students and reporters. About one o’clock in the morning Caroline finally cleared her house of celebrating alumni and fans. From the time she became first lady, Caroline had been interested in students. She arranged for various student leaders and groups to meet at the president’s home once a quarter and, assisted by Deans Katharine Cater and Jim Foy, would serve home-baked refreshments, which the students appreciated. She began freshmen picnics every fall so new students had an opportunity to meet the president at his home. The president’s reception for parents and graduates became a special occasion for families. The Draughons often

attended fraternity dances and the campus-wide spring Military Ball. After daughter Ann became an Auburn art student in 1951, the student traffic around the Draughon home increased. In 1956 the Glomerata staff recognized the contributions of President and Mrs. Draughon by dedicating the annual to them. Mrs. Draughon, they wrote, has been “outstanding as the gracious, sincere, and much respected first lady and hostess whose warmth and friendliness have made her a friend to all who know her.” Caroline recognized that the A.P.I. student body changed after the war. More students were married, and many male students had working wives who were helping send them through school. She organized the Dame’s Club to provide a way for these spouses to be involved and have a part in the life of the college. Before graduation, she presided at a special ceremony

At the Newcomers membership tea at the president's home in October 1963,Caroline Draughon welcomes Nancy (Mrs. W.D.) Spears, president of Newcomers, and Mrs. D.H. Galbreath, who has arrived from the Canal Zone.

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where she conferred on each graduate’s wife the “P.H.T.” (Pushing Hubby Through) degree, complete with embossed certificate. The diploma noted their “willingness to make ‘home’ in a few small rooms, to wear old hose and pretend there were no runs; to spend late hours typing Hubby’s thesis instead of dancing under the stars” and honored them “because you’ve been the light of his life when he has needed you to shine the brightest.” Auburn students were known to gather quickly, whether for rolling Toomer’s Corner or an impromptu pep rally. After word came that Auburn had won the national football championship in 1957, an “enormous crowd of students” swarmed toward the president’s home cheering and demanding a holiday. They stood in the brick circle and chanted. Because the president was out of town, Caroline was home alone. Undaunted, she went outside, gave a “War Eagle!” yell, then told the students she “couldn’t give them a holiday,” so “go home and get back to studying for final examinations.” They went home. She had a special relationship with the KAs, whose fraternity house was across from her backyard. When they were enjoying keg parties while she was in the garden or side yard, they would holler, “Hey! Miss Caroline!” And she would turn to Ann and say, “Aren’t those the sweetest boys,” oblivious to the reason for their rather happy condition. During the early years of the Draughon presidency, Auburn’s first couple became close friends with Julia and Tom Russell. Julia had been a student at Huntingdon with Caroline, and the Draughons often

visited the Russells at their cottage on Lake Martin. About 1952 the Draughons picked out a lovely point on the lake and built a cottage. They planted flowers, raised tomatoes, and purchased a boat. They renewed their fishing with great enthusiasm and became something of a fixture to lake folk, who would recognize them in their small boat skimming across the water early in the morning or at dusk headed for one of their favorite fishing holes. Once coming home on a dark moonless night, they took a wrong turn at Blue Creek and wandered lost until midnight. It was, Caroline recalled, these “long, quiet weekends we spent there casting for bass until the moon rose” which she enjoyed most. As President Draughon approached the anniversary of his tenth year as president, the Alabama Polytechnic Institute had progressed under his leadership to university status. A Draughon dream was fulfilled in 1960 when the Alabama legislature recognized this achievement by renaming the college Auburn University. The Draughon family was changing also. In 1957 Ann married Thomas G. Cousins of Atlanta, and Ralph Jr. was an Auburn senior N.R.O.T.C. student. Ralph was thinking about retiring. He had suffered a heart attack in 1954, and old Doctor Thomas had put him to bed for a month, telling Caroline he would look after him there because “Ralph would go crazy at the hospital.” The president saw only Dr. David Mullins, who assumed the administrative work of the college, Joe Sarver, who headed the alumni association, and George Murphy, who came from Educational Television and brought Dr. Draughon one of the first television sets in

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town. Although Ralph had recovered nicely by 1960, he was mindful of another hurdle the university faced, and he felt he had one other job to do for Auburn before he retired. The civil rights movement had escalated since the successful Montgomery Bus Boycott in 1955. Conscious of the confrontations at Ole Miss in the fall of 1962 and Governor George Wallace’s “stand in the school house door” at the University of Alabama in 1963, President Draughon was determined that he would guide Auburn through integration of the campus smoothly and without violence. He established a campus-wide committee which met to discuss every possibility and to make plans for the eventual admission of the school’s first black student. Caroline hosted some of the meetings at the president’s home. In January 1964 a black student was quietly enrolled in the graduate program in history,

and there was little notice. Ralph Jr., with visions of the Life magazine photograph of the president’s wife at Tuscaloosa being pelted with rotten eggs by University of Alabama students, called from graduate school at Chapel Hill to find out what happened. He remembers his mother laughed at him, “Of course everything went smoothly,” she said. “Nothing like that could happen at Auburn.” However, it was during the tension of these months when Caroline, alone in the president’s home one night, received a threatening telephone call. A man said he was “going to kill” her, and Caroline quickly said, “No, you’re not!” and hung up the receiver. Although Caroline took this lightly and nothing ever came of it, Ralph never again allowed her to stay alone at night.

Caroline initiated the president’s picnic supper for freshmen, which was held on the lawn of the president’s home just before fall.

Caroline and Ralph are proud parents of Ann and Ralph Jr. on the day of Ann’s Auburn graduation in 1954.

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When he was away, he had one of Joe and Molly Sarver’s boys come over to spend the night. In 1963 Huntingdon College honored Caroline and recognized her accomplishments by making her Alumna of the Year. The Achievement Award praised her “influence on the thousands of young men and women who have passed through Auburn University since she has been its president’s wife” and noted that her influence had not been merely local, “but worldwide.” Her family gathered for the ceremony, and daughter Ann remembers her amazement as she saw her mother in a new role. Caroline stood so proudly and accepted the award so articulately that Ann saw another side of

her mother. With integration established, the new university library open, and plans and funding secure for both a new basketball coliseum and a classroom building, which would become Haley Center, Draughon decided it was time he devoted all his attention to fishing. In 1965 as he was leaving the presidency, the board of trustees honored him by naming for him the campus building that meant the most to him—the Ralph Brown Draughon Library. The trustees also recognized Caroline’s contributions to Auburn in an appropriate way—naming the married student apartment complex the Caroline Draughon Village. In 1965 President Draughon turned over the Auburn presidency to Dr. Harry M. Philpott, and Caroline graciously paved the way for his wife, Polly, to assume her responsibilities.

Each spring Caroline held an Easter egg hunt for the children of the Dames Club members and A.P.I. students.

In December 1954 Caroline hosted a Christmas party for the children of A.P.I. students and faculty.

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The Draughons moved to a small house in Auburn, and life became slow and easy. Caroline told everyone when she left the president’s home, “If you’re looking for us, we’ll be where the fish are biting!” and they spent much time fishing at Lake Martin. By then Ann and Tom had a cottage nearby, and the grandchildren, who called Caroline “Gommy,” visited most of the summer. The Philpotts soon had a lake house, too, and their children loved to come over and swim with “Miss Candylion.” Three years later, in 1968, returning home from a visit to Montgomery, Ralph Draughon collapsed from a massive heart attack and died instantly. Perhaps it was providence that he reached Auburn before he was stricken. The editorial in the Auburn Bulletin noted his contributions to Auburn University and observed that Draughon’s “circle of longtime friends here, with whom he fished and argued politics and matters philosophical, had lost one of the principal objects of its affection.” There were those who worried about Caroline—they had been a team for so long and were devoted to each other. But her close friends were confident that after time to adjust she would move on with her life. And she did. Caroline still went to the lake and enjoyed her grandchildren. She fished, mostly from the pier

unless their old friend, Sam Adams, sports editor of the Montgomery Advertiser, came up to fish with her. She worked the rose bed that Ralph had planted and carefully nurtured after they moved to the little house, and with the help of Auburn’s horticulture experts, she was cutting his roses three decades later. She was active in the Episcopal Church and in various clubs. She enjoyed her sewing club even more. Every April Caroline went with friends to the meeting of the Alabama Historical Association, which Ralph had helped to found. She joined the official Auburn party for bowl games and special events and attended Franklin Lectures and cultural and musical programs on campus. She was appointed to the College of Liberal Arts Humanities Council, and she stayed in touch with alumni who had become close Draughon friends

Caroline, surprised at being tapped by Mortar Board for honorary membership.

Caroline straightens son Ralph’s tie at Auburn’s graduation in June 1958.

Caroline went down to the Auburn train station to see her son off to be enlisted in the regular Navy following his graduation from Auburn in June 1958.

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Each spring Governor’s Day was celebrated with a special parade of R.O.T.C. students on Max Morris Field. Governor and Mrs. Jim Folsom (during 1954-1958 term ), President and Mrs. Ralph Draughon, Col. and Mrs. Bill Whelchel, and Col. and Mrs. Bill Johnson review the parade.

At Auburn’s Homecoming President Draughon pins an Auburn mum on Mrs. Patterson, while Caroline and Governor Patterson watch.

Caroline and Wernher Von Braun during his visit to campus to speak about the space program.

Governor’s Day Luncheon, May 14, 1964, Margaret (Mrs. Robert) Anderson, Captain F.T. Curtis, Caroline Draughon, Governor George C. Wallace, President Ralph Draughon, and Lurleen (Mrs. George) Wallace.

Ralph and Caroline at the North Texas Auburn Club, Dallas-Fort Worth, August 7, 1964.

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through the years. In May 1977, she helped Grace Jones, who had served as president of Campus Club in 1972 and was for many years the historian and publicity chairman, collect Campus Club materials to be deposited in the University Archives. In a long taped interview, she recalled her life in Auburn as a faculty wife and president’s first lady and recounted the founding of the Campus Club. For many years Caroline joined friends Neil and Henrietta Davis and Carolyn Tamblyn each August for a week at Sunnyside Beach near Panama City, Florida. They would eat at Captain Anderson’s, read novels, nap, walk on the beach, and visit other Auburn friends—Mary Greene and the Naftels who were vacationing in the area. After time passed, the older bachelors and widowers of Auburn, many close friends for years, began to escort Caroline to functions, especially those at night. Ralph Jr. was amused that when he came home to visit his mother, “I would sit at home, the dull wallflower, while she, the social butterfly, would go out on dates.” He laughed, “And I never actually told her what time I expected her to be home!” Caroline kept her sheer joy of living and her sense of humor. Ralph recalled one day in the “hippie” era when he and his mother drove past some old apartments and he commented that they looked rather “seedy.” His mother agreed, saying, “They’ve really gone to pot.” Then quickly added, “In more ways than one!” Caroline went to Atlanta to visit Ann and Tom and her grandchildren—Caroline, who is named for her, Lillian, and Grady. She was there often when

the Cousins entertained, especially for their annual Christmas Eve party; the grandchildren would marvel at how their grandmother moved so easily among strangers, making friends and always gathering a crowd around her. They would say, “Look at Gommy work the crowd!” Caroline taught them to ask good questions, be genuinely interested in people, and remember their names and where they are from. “Above all,” she told her grandchildren, “learn to listen well.” Caroline came to Auburn as a young bride, so young that Mary Greene recalled that her “saddle oxfords and sweaters made it hard to tell her from the students.” Kate and Wilford Bailey, who knew her from professor’s wife to president’s lady, observed she was the “same

Ralph and Caroline in front of the president’s home just before his retirement.

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friendly, loving, caring person.” Her unpretentious nature is illustrated by many stories, such as the one Merle Flournoy shared. As a young staff wife, she was shopping at the Franklin ten-cent store and saw a table filled with 39-cent hose. Worrying that perhaps they were “too cheap,” she moved on, but went back and purchased several pair after she “met Mrs. Draughon going out the door with a handful” of the bargain hose. Merle reasoned that “if the hose were good enough for the president’s wife, they were good enough for me.” In the 1970s the Newcomers Club joined with the Campus Club, and in 1994 the club began a series of activities to honor Caroline Draughon and to make a contribution to Auburn University. The first and a continuing effort is to provide a scholarship to support the purchase of books and supplies for a deserving AU student each year. In 1995 in anticipation of the club’s fiftieth anniversary, the Campus Club members began a

Caroline and Ralph enjoy fishing at Lake Martin, July 4, 1960.

(left) Caroline and her granddaughter and namesake, Caroline Cousins, enjoy a swim at Lake Martin.

fund drive to endow a Caroline Draughon scholarship. C. Cayce Scarborough, who came to A.P.I. as a freshman the same year Caroline arrived and who returned for a master’s degree and twice to join the faculty, believes that “Miss Caroline was the same encouraging person through the years,” the one who “tied together generations of Auburn people.” Caroline Draughon is most often described as “the true southern lady,” and for more than six decades she provided the perfect role model for Auburn’s young women. By 1996 five president’s wives had followed her. Each one had her own personality and made her own contributions to Auburn University, but none replaced Caroline in the hearts of alumni and as grande dame of town and gown.

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Ralph and Caroline welcome Auburn’s new president Harry M. Philpott and his wife, Polly, to the president’s home, May 24, 1965. Draughon retired October 1.

Four former Auburn University president’s wives gather to welcome the wife of President-elect William V. Muse in January 1992: left to right, Ann Martin, Caroline Draughon, Marlene Muse, Kate Bailey, and Polly Philpott.

Caroline Draughon - 1994.

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