Shortly before Christmas, I began gathering information on the early days of the Morgan community, interviewing several persons who had intimate knowledge of this once thriving community. Some shared documents from their personal files and I have begun putting some things together but it is turning into a much larger task than I envisioned.

There is richness about the early history of this community that is intriguing. For example, Ms. Lois Wilson, who still lives on the outskirts of Morgan and who taught many years at Morgan High School, sent me some files in which there was fascinating information about a beekeeper who lived across the highway from her farm. He was known in the community as Bee Jimmy Moore.

Bee Jimmy made his living by selling queen bees, not only in the United States but internationally as well. Testimonials are listed from Canada, California, New York, Utah, and Cuba. Mr. J M Curnow, Palma Soriana, Oriente, Cuba says, “My home apiary consists of 100 colonies, all from your strain, and this rendered 50—fifty gallon barrels and I sold 140 nuclei. Your bees are the honey gatherers, gentle and non-swarming.” The circular goes on to say that Bee Jimmy was awarded a $25.00 prize by the A I Root company for the longest tongued bees in 1900. A remarkable man who made a good living tending bees. But it was his obituary that startled me.

It says: “James Parker Moore, aged 91, died Monday night, Aug. 20, 1951 at his home near Morgan, following an illness of three years… During his early days he attended Nelson’s Business College in Cincinnati.” Mr. Moore’s hobbies -mathematics and singing. He worked with laser arithmetic and geometry problems which stumped his teachers and thought nothing of walking miles across the country to singing school, where he learned to sing by the old-time “sing the note method”.

Then the last paragraph: “On the night he died his bees seemed to know that their beloved master would soon leave his earthly home. Gaining entrance to his room, some of the bees flew straight to his bed and hovered over him, then for a brief moment, one bee rested lightly on his brow as if to caress him in a last farewell as his spirit winged its way to that home on high whose builder and Maker is God.”

This account brought to mind an article approximately three months past where a cat in a hospice facility would sit in the room of a patient who was nearing his or her end, and according to the personnel at this facility, this cat was a most reliable predictor of when a person would breathe his last.

Further, Gary Pferrman told me that when he was seriously, perhaps critically ill, that Sadie, his dog, would not leave his bedside.

And, then, there is Birdie, my dog. I have never tried to train her, but I would be willing to testify in a court of law that Birdie understands plain English in complete sentences. Normally she rides in the back of my pickup and will contentedly stay up to four hours awaiting my return. However, when it is cold and rainy I allow her to ride in the cab with me.

A problem developed when I would open the driver’s door to detruck. She would crowd against me as I was getting out. So, the next time I pulled into our garage, I turned off the ignition and looked her in the eye and explained to her that I would appreciate it if she would allow me to detruck without her crowding me in her enthusiasm for wanting to get out. No hand signals, no raised voice, just an explanation. She watched as I opened the door and alighted. She watched my every move, quietly, and I paused for perhaps thirty seconds, then I said, “C’mon.” And she hopped down, wagging her tail.

Dogs and cats and bees! How much do they understand?