By Kelly Murphy-Redd
“Promoted to Glory” was the subject line emailed by the men’s lunch group leader announcing my Dad, Larry Murphy, went to heaven February 18, 2024. Everyone said he was the youngest 89-year-old they had ever seen. He strove to walk a mile every day and ride his three-wheeled electric bike around the neighborhood. Neighbors I don’t know emailed condolences. Known for riding his “trike,” one lady said her four-year-old would always wave to her “friend” when Dad rode by.
Lawrence Murphy was born in Antigo, Wisconsin. A West Point Grad, he served the U.S. Air Force for 29 years. Molly Murphy was born in Springer, N.M. She and Dad met in Phoenix, Ariz., during Dad’s training in the F-86 Saber Jet at Williams AFB.
Married in 1959, Mom and Dad had a three-day honeymoon in Tulsa, Okla. Dad was stationed four years at Vance AFB teaching U.S. and foreign students to fly jets.
Newly married, without much money, a day out was driving into Tulsa to buy a tube of toothpaste. Mom talked about how they lived in an “adorable converted chicken coup” for a while. I came along, and with me in tow, they moved back to Arizona, where Dad trained in the F-100 Super Saber fighter at Luke AFB.
Eleven months after I was born, my brother Patrick arrived. In 1964, the four of us went to RAF Lakenheath, United Kingdom. While stationed there, Dad flew F-100 training flights throughout Western Europe. His primary wartime mission was to drop a nuclear bomb should the Soviet Union start World War III. Nick and Bob, a couple who took care of American military families, took care of us when Mom and Dad would travel around Europe. Mom’s hobbies were making brass rubbings in cathedrals and playing bridge.
In 1967, Dad volunteered to fly F-100 missions in Vietnam. I have an early memory of walking into the living room seeing Mom sitting on Dad’s lap. They were crying. Patrick remembers being at the airport saying goodbye. Mom was crying, I was crying, so Patrick started crying. After two weeks of jungle survival training, Dad was stationed at Phan Rang Air Base.
During his 320 days, Dad flew 306 combat missions.
He was awarded two Distinguished Flying Crosses, one pinned on by General Benjamin Davis. I found them, among other medals, in the attic. One of the citations reads as follows:
“Captain Lawrence J. Murphy distinguished himself by extraordinary achievement while participating in aerial flight as an F-100 tactical fighter pilot near Binh Thuy, Republic of Vietnam on 4 November 1967. On that date Captain Murphy came to the aid of friendly units who were heavily engaged with a large hostile force while trying to evacuate a group of friendly dead and wounded. The singularly brilliant ordinance deliveries in close proximity to friendly units while under heavy automatic weapons fire were directly responsible for the relief of the friendly troops and the evacuation of their dead and wounded. The professional competence, aerial skill, and devotion to duty displayed by Captain Murphy reflect great credit upon himself and the United states Air Force.”
He was a hero at age 33. Finding medals in the attic tells you something about Dad. He told great stories about his life and career, but didn’t boast about medals.
He and Mom sent tape recordings and letters to each other while he was in Vietnam.
The stacks of letters, also found in the attic, contain wide-ranging subjects: Dad counted the days until seeing Mom and us again, expressed his love, described sitting alert and flying missions. Mom sent notes from us and gave Dad the latest news. Dad wrote about learning Kennedy was assassinated. He chronicled spending four hours with an artist in Taiwan and buying two paintings from him. He described paneling the pilots “lounge” with mahogany and serving fondue out of nose cones of napalm cans. There were struggles when leadership wanted pilots to sand vehicles and clean latrines instead of getting the sleep needed before flying.
When Dad came back from Vietnam he presented Mom with a plaque that reads: “In Recognition of Outstanding Performance Awarded to Molly M. Murphy For Her Perseverance and Devotion to Duty in Maintaining Home and Family During Her Husband’s Tour of Duty in Vietnam from Aug. 67 to Aug. 68. Presented by Her Loving and Grateful Husband, Larry.”
Then followed a brief three-month training for Dad in Panama City, Fla., where we lived in a trailer. Dad told us he would give us a prize for memorizing the Lord’s Prayer. I still have “The Night Before Christmas” book I received as my prize. I remember singing “Shout to the Highest Mountain” standing beside Dad in church. We had family nights, and one night, Mom and Dad took us to see lighted boats in the harbor. I guess we didn’t seem too excited. So, next time, they took us to a store to choose a small toy. I chose a little doll. Even then, I felt kind of sad we didn’t appreciate the lights enough, and Mom and Dad felt they had to buy us a toy. I still have that little doll.
In 1968, Laredo, Texas, Patrick and I rode bikes everywhere, made mud pies, built forts, had dirt clod fights with kids and played in wardrobe boxes on the driveway until it started to hail. I remember sitting on the couch with Mom while she taught me to sing “Silver Bells.” I can remember how it felt sitting next to her while she rubbed my earlobe. Dad taught students to fly again and Mom was involved with the Officer’s Wives Club. She continued to be an avid bridge player.
Dad was transferred to the Pentagon in 1970 and we lived in Fairfax, Va., during Watergate. Moving forward, Dad’s career was at staff or executive level within “aircrew flight simulator acquisition and testing” agencies in various command headquarters. Mom started working part-time during these years. She worked for doctors and achieved higher positions without any formal training. Fairfax is where she became a Washington Redskins fan. She was a huge sports enthusiast.
In 1974, dad was stationed at Langley AFB in Virginia. He was selected as one of 12 Air Force officers designated as “USAF Advance Agent for Presidential Travel.” Conducting ground support for Air Force One and all other aircraft associated with President Gerald Ford’s travel, Dad made numerous state-side and overseas trips during 1975 and 1976.
We moved from Yorktown, Va., to Albuquerque, N.M. in 1977 where Dad was stationed at Kirtland AFB. Dad’s last assignment was Eglin AFB where he retired.
Everywhere we lived, Mom and Dad had tons of friends. Living in Indian Bayou in Destin for 18 years, Mom would organize a monthly golf tournament everyone called “The Molly Murphy Invitational.” She organized funny talent shows. They loved to sail and play golf. Mom was a fabulous cook. Christmas was always special. We made my paternal grandmother’s secret recipe Christmas cookies and Mom made her mother’s fruitcake.
They built a house Dad designed on the water in Dolphin Cove. They moved and built another house on Lake Oconee in Eatonton, Ga. Their grandchild Carson was the catalyst to move to Henderson, Nev. She spent every day after school with Mom and Dad. Mom played “Barbies” with Carson and Dad made “parachutes” dropping them from the top of the step ladder.
Mom battled a form of Muscular Dystrophy for several years. By the end, she couldn’t swallow or walk, and suffered terrible pain. She never complained. She was the strongest person I’ve ever known. Dad made sure to take care of her at home. Mom went to heaven on January 21, 2018. They were married 58 years.
Dad moved back to Niceville. We had six years together and suddenly he wasn’t O.K. We fought for a month-and-a-half. We lost.
I know we all lose our parents, but, somehow, I wasn’t supposed to ever lose mine. I am heartbroken. My parents always kept us safe, took care of us, made sure we had a childhood and always, always made our lives better. They were always there for us. I’d have to write a book to do justice to their life story and what they did for us. Patrick always says Mom and Dad did the right things. My husband Stuart says Mom and Dad were the most generous people on the planet. Losing his own Dad in 1992, he felt my Dad was like a second father. Mom and Dad were both heroes, and people who worked hard, made a difference in lives and made this country great.
I want people to know Larry and Molly Murphy existed and remember their names. In honor of them, on their behalf, and BECAUSE of them, I was honored to present a check to One Hopeful Place and Fisher House for $10,000.00 each at the Fort Walton Chamber First Friday Coffee.
If you still have parents, hug them as soon as you can, as often as you can, and never let a day go by without saying I love you.
I love you, Mom and Dad. You were both promoted to glory!
