The Autobiography Of
JULIEN HARRIS STEPHENSON

Written in 1934 @ the age of 18

Chapter 1

I, Julien Harris Stephenson, was born in Decatur, Georgia October 17, 1916, the third (3 rd) child of Mr. and Mrs. Mell Manley Stephenson. My mother was Daisy Harris, her father was Robert Billups Harris, who still lives near Watkinsville, Georgia in Oconee County and who reached the rip old age of eighty-nine 989) years. Her mother was Mary Susan Elizabeth Evans. She was born in Walton County near Monroe, Georgia and was married to my grandfather nearly fifty-six years ago. The celebrated their golden wedding anniversary five years ago last August. She too still lives and at the age of eighty-three and is able to carry on her household duties. Many sunny afternoons one may see Grandpa mounted on his horse deriving much pleasure from riding. When he was younger he used to “break in” horses for pay. He would ride an unruly horse to Winder and by the time he got back to Watkinsville, the horse was an easy to control as any other one. He charged ten dollars for doing this.

He enlisted in the War between the states under General Finnigan and Hardy, and servers the last two years of the war. He was only 17 at the time he enlisted. He took part in the battle of Olustia which occurred in Florida. He boasts of having seen General Lee in person.

Both my grandmother and grandfather remember when Watkinsville was the county seat of Clark County. They also recalled when the courthouse burned with snow on top of it. They reared eight children to maturity and have fifteen grandchildren and five great-grandchildren.

My randfather’s father was Robert Littleton Harris and his grandfather was Walton Harris. Judge Young L.G. Harris, who founded Young Harris College, and for whom the Young Harris Methodist Church of this city was named, was my mother’s great uncle.

The land on which my grand parents now live has been in the Harris family ever since the original grant was made, and my little nephew, David Wesley Bishop, is one of the sixth generation to enjoy visits to this sacred spot.

My Grandmother’s father was Henry D. Evans, one of the pioneer settlers of Georgia. Her mother was Elizabeth Griffeth. They gave to the world 5 sons and 3 daughters who were outstanding citizens in their day and generation.

My father is Mell Manley Stephenson. His father was James Madison Stephenson, a noted educator, having been on the faculty of Oxford College, Oxford, Alabama, for more than a quarter of a century. He lived to the ripe old age of eight-four (84) years and, no doubt, would have lived a good many years longer had not a tragic automobile accident taken him away from us. My father’s mother was Eudora Weaver, she too was a teacher. There were born to them four (4) sons and three (3) daughters, all of whom are now living except the oldest son who died in young manhood. My grandfather died in 1925 and my grandmother died in 1931. Like my other grandparents they too celebrated their golden wedding anniversary and it was my pleasure (even though I was a very small boy to be present at this happy occasion. They had twenty-two (22) grandchildren, and nine (9) great grandchildren.

CHAPTER TWO
CHILDHOOD DAYS::

I don not remember much about my early childhood. I was very frail and delicate until after I was six years old, although you would never believe it now from present indications. I was so small that my mother pretended that James, (my younger brother) and I were twins and dressed us exactly alike until we started school. I remember that I had a right serious spell of Diphtheria when I was five years old. At this time one of my mother’s legs was in a plaster cast from a broken bone. She was perfectly helpless so far as walking was concerned, but she kept me in bed with her and nursed me herself, mopping my throat and staying awake all night for two nights bathing my fevered brow, trying to reduce the high temperature. Mt father was quarantined away from the home, this, making it doubly hard on her. Had it not been for a wonderful colored nurse who had been with us for a period of twelve years, and who was willing to be quarantined with us, I do not know what would have become of us during these trying weeks. She nursed me from a baby until I started to school and I shall always cherish her memory. Some of the happiest days of my childhood were spent with my grandparents, near Watkinsville, Georgia.

My grandfather always kept a fine saddle horse (still has one and still rides horseback) and before I was large enough to ride alone, he would put me in the saddle in front of him and away we would go over the plantation. Some of my happiest days were spent before school days. I entered what is now Childs Street School at the age of seven.

CHAPER THREE
SCHOOL DAYS::

School days, the happiest days of one’s life. With the building of the new Chase Street School I went there for my second, third, fourth and fifth years. Miss Kate Mason, Mrs. Means, Mrs. Hancock, and Mrs. LaBoon, how can I ever forget these wonderful women. How they tried to impress upon me the things that were right, and how gentle and patient they were with me at all times. Dear Miss Katie has been taken away from us, but the memory of her as well as the others will always linger with me. How we did enjoy getting ready for the May Day exercises and for the singing of Christmas Carols at Christmas time.

Then there came a day when the fifth grade had their graduating exercises out on the lawn, all of our mothers were there, and we had to say goodbye to dear old CHASE.

I then went back to dear old Childs Street for two short years. While I didn’t have just one teacher, as I had previously, all the teachers were nice to me in every way, and they sent me to High School, filled with the desire to do my very best and to make them feel proud of me. Nut alas! And slack! I feel I have, in a measure been a disappointment to them. When I stop to realize that I have only one more year at High School – one more year to sit at the feet of my beloved teachers – one more year to drink in all the wonderful things that they try to teach me, a blanket of sadness drops before my eyes, shutting out all the glories of High School days and makes me exclaim; “After High School – WHAT?”

CHAPTER FOUR
AFTER HIGH SCHOOL WHAT?

At the present time, I am unable to say what. I can’t tell, I can’t read the future. I hope that I may be lead of God into some line of work that I may be best fitted for, and that I may add a little joy, a little sunshine into the lives of those with whom I come in contact and that I may lead an upright, honest, clean Christian life.

CHAPTER FIVE
What am I making of my life:

I am doing all that is within my power to lead a clean, unspotted and upright life. I am trying to be fair and square with my teachers, classmates and friends, trying to be a dutiful son, a good brother, in fact the kind of boy God would have me be. If I accomplish these things I shall not have lived in vain.