Parker Aurora Doran

Parker Aurora DORAN, son of Joseph Andrew DORAN and Sophia Winifred "Winnie" MORGAN, was born on 2 Nov 1911 in San Jon, Quay Co, New Mexico, USA and died on 12 Oct 1964 in San Bernardino, San Bernardino Co, California, USA at age 52.

• He appeared on the 1930 Federal Census census on 5 Apr 1930 in Somerton, Yuma Co, Arizona, USA. See 1930 Census Report

• He is listed in the Social Security Death Index, Oct 1964.
Name:Parker Doran SSN:561-07-2312 Born:2 Nov 1911 Died:Oct 1964 State (Year) SSN issued:California (Before 1951 )

• He is listed in the California Death Index, Oct 1964.
Name: Parker A Doran Social Security #: 561072312 Sex: MALE Birth Date: 2 Nov 1912 Birthplace: New Mexico Death Date: 12 Oct 1964 Death Place: San Bernardino Mother's Maiden Name: Morgan

• He resided at Salem Oregon and is listed in the Salem city directory: 1971, Page 9; 1975, Page 474; 1977, Page 7; 1978, Page 7; 1985, Page 8

Parker married Elsie Elizabeth ENGLISH, daughter of Herbert Charles ENGLISH and Effie Pauline STOUT, on 19 Jun 1929 (Alternate marriage date: 31 May 1929) in Sweetwater, Nolan Co, Texas, USA. Elsie was born on 15 Mar 1912 in Hastings, , Nebraska, USA and died in Jan 1992 in Riverside, Riverside Co, California, USA at age 79. They had seven children: David Leo, Merle Eugene, Sophia Ruth Pauline, Robert Andrew, Joseph Charles, Cora Elizabeth "Betty," and Jesse Ray.

• Elsie was named after Sis Lohman of the Seventh Day Adventist Church and another nurse. Sis. Lohman lost her baby just before Elsie was born. She gave Effie her layette "all new and nice."

More on the English Family here

Parker's Family ca1933

Parker & Elsie Doran
David Leo, Merle Eugene, Sophia Ruth Pauline,

Grandma With Her Mother and Siblings

Standing, left to right: Jesse Lee, Joseph Lester, Merriel G., Elsie Elizabeth
Seated: Jimmy, Effie, William David English.

Location: California in the 1950's

I Loved to Hear Grandma Recite Poems

By: Don Doran
Elsie was known by most of the family and many church friends for the poems she would recite. Many times in a church service, I remember her sharing a poem, from memory, during the "testimony service". Some were serious, a few had a little humor but all had a message of life that all could apply.

The poem that I remember my Grandma reciting most often was the poem about the old violin. As she would recite the poem, I would feel like I was actually at the auction and could hear the call of the auctioneer. Then as the poem ended with the bid for a man's soul, I again felt I could hear the call of the auctioneer.

I really loved to hear Grandma share these poems from her heart.

The Touch Of The Master's Hand
'Twas battered and scarred, and the auctioneer
Thought it scarcely worth his while
To waste much time on the old violin,
But held it up with a smile.
"What am I bidden, good folks," he cried,
"Who'll start the bidding for me?"
"A dollar, a dollar. Then two! Only two?
Two dollars, and who'll make it three?"
"Three dollars, once; three dollars, twice;
Going for three..." But no,
From the room, far back, a grey-haired man
Came forward and picked up the bow;
Then wiping the dust from the old violin,
And tightening the loosened strings,
He played a melody pure and sweet,
As a caroling angel sings.
The music ceased, and the auctioneer,
With a voice that was quiet and low,
Said: "What am I bid for the old violin?"
And he held it up with the bow.
"A thousand dollars, and who'll make it two?
Two thousand! And who'll make it three?
Three thousand, once; three thousand, twice,
And going and gone," said he.
The people cheered, but some of them cried,
"We do not quite understand.
What changed its worth?" Swift came the reply:
"The touch of the Master's hand."
And many a man with life out of tune,
And battered and scarred with sin,
Is auctioned cheap to the thoughtless crowd
Much like the old violin.
A "mess of pottage," a glass of wine,
A game -- and he travels on. He is "going" once, and "going" twice,
He's "going" and almost "gone."
But the Master comes, and the foolish crowd
Never can quite understand the worth of a soul and the change that is wrought
By the touch of the Master's hand.
-- Myra Brooks Welch