Notes From His Son

I walked into my first jury trial before The Honorable Judge Stephen Booher many years ago. Before the proceedings began, Judge Booher noticed my last name and enquired whether I was any relation to Marshall Curran. When I confessed to being his son, the Judge said: “Young man, if you are half the man your father is, you are welcome in my courtroom anytime.

This was not the first time I heard people speak of my dad in those terms, nor would it be the last. When my dad was with the State Attorney’s office, he was assigned the 1st degree murder cases and got a reputation for being tough as nails. Many people told me that my dad took “no lip from anyone.” (He certainly didn’t take any from me growing up either!)

On the other hand, my dad was a kind and generous man as well. I have come to hear many stories over the years from people that my father helped — often secretly. I learned from my dad the ‘art’ of anonymously buying a policeman’s meal at a restaurant. Just within the last year, a prominent attorney in town called to tell me a story from back in the day when my dad was at a ritzy restaurant with his friends when he sneaked out to go back outside to help a homeless man he had seen on the way in and then my dad sneaked back in the restaurant without saying a word. He didn’t think anyone knew, but the attorney who told me the story had seen it all.

There is much to write, and much to remember, but for now, here are some pictures from his life journey which came to an end on July 26, 2013.

-M. Glenn Curran, III

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From Kelsey

I don’t have many recent memories about Grandaddy, but I do remember he was one of my favorite people when I was a little girl. Always taking my brother and me on adventures in his old Cadillac. The Museum of Science and Discovery and the Egg ‘N You Diner were some of the classic spots.

But the top memory was playing in his indoor planters (probably the thing we’re sitting on in the picture) which he left filled with sand, not soil or dirt, so Kyle and I could make a huge mess in his house, filling his socks with as much sand as possible.

I know the man he is, and I’ve heard many a great story of the man he was.

Thank you for the legacy you have left me. I’m proud to be a Curran.

Love you Grandaddy!