Dad ran for the Deerfield City Commission in 1953 and won, receiving nearly 80 percent of the votes cast. In fact, he got more votes than anyone else running for any of the commission seats that year. There were only a little over 500 voters in that election, and Dad got more than 400 to vote for him. He was 37-years-old and very happy.

Deerfield did not have a City Manager form of government at that time. It had a mayor and four commissioners, each of which was responsible for managing a portion of the city government. Each commissioner selected the part of the city government he or she would like to “run.” The commissioner who received the most votes could select first. There was a commissioner responsible for utilities, a commissioner responsible for streets, another for the fire department and another for the police. Dad selected to be the commissioner of police.

It was not such a big job, because there were only four or five policemen. Deerfield even had its own small jail at the time, approximately where the city council chambers are located today. The police also had their office there. It was only a block from our house and factory, which made it very convenient for Dad to go there as needed.

Dad had not run on a campaign to be the Commissioner of Police. He actually ran on a campaign to improve and increase the city’s parks and recreational areas. Once elected, however, he realized he could do more for the city as Police Commissioner to fight for some other issues which were festering in our small southern town. For instance, Deerfield had a sizable black population, but had no black policeman. Crime was rampant in the black neighborhoods, and the white policemen seemed afraid to go there. When they did, there seemed to be a tendency to use too much force, out of fear, or other reasons. Dad had many friends in the black community who had supported him and quietly solicited their help to find the right person to hire.

Meanwhile, he started working on other projects which the city needed. The most urgent was that there were not street markers at the corners of most streets which identified the street. Without street signs, it was very difficult for visitors to find their way around. Dad brought it up at his first commission meeting. The city clerk, Mr. Richardson, reported that Deerfield’s budget did not include any money for pursuing such a project. In frustration, Dad blurted out that he thought he could get concrete street markers donated from the new concrete company which had recently moved into town. The other commissioners then agreed that if Dad could get the street markers donated, they would pay to get them installed...

The new concrete company Dad was depending on to make the donation was located just east of the Sea Board Railroad crossing, where JM Family’s headquarters is today. Dad had done the owner a few favors by working at nights and on weekends doing some emergency welding and machine work on some of the concrete company’s equipment. He took me with him on Saturday morning to see the owner, a tall bald headed man, and make the request. I could tell Dad was a little nervous. He finally got the request out for 6- by 6-inch concrete pilings, 5 foot long to be donated to the city. Without hesitation, the owner said, “Marlin, is that all you want? Just let me know how many. It would be our pleasure.”

By the following Saturday, the piles were delivered to our shop. That’s when I learned that it was going to be my job to help paint the street numbers, through stencils, on the pilings. When I think about it, I can still smell the black asphalt based paint we used to give Deerfield its first street markers.

David Eller

Publisher

10/02/08