In April 1999, U.S. Sen. George Voinovich pulled into a rest area along Interstate 77 in Bath Township.
We know this not because someone was documenting his bathroom habits (in fact, there appears to be no record of whether he needed to use the facilities or not), but because he was preparing to honor the memory of the most recognizable woman in Greater Akron.
Frances B. Murphey had died of cancer five months earlier, at the age of 75. During her 55 years as a Beacon Journal reporter, she may well have talked to every living soul in the five-county area, if not all of Ohio.
Wearing bib overalls, boots and big glasses, a small camera always at the ready, Miss Murphey (a courtesy title she much preferred to “Ms.,” even though she was a female pioneer in her profession) was instantly recognizable.
Now, having a rest stop named after you might not strike most folks as the equivalent of being knighted. But in the case of Fran, for whom the term “eccentric” was surely coined, the odd honor was incredibly appropriate.
She had no indoor plumbing for many of the years she lived alone in an old farmhouse in Boston Heights, and her second biggest hobby, after collecting postcards, was presenting slide shows about outhouses.
The concept of putting her likeness on the wall of a glorified outhouse undoubtedly generated a smile in the Great Beyond.
So Voinovich and a small group of Fran’s friends and family gathered on that Thursday afternoon to sing her praises. They unveiled a glorious plaque with Murphey’s head in bas-relief and a summary of her career.
“Now,” said Voinovich, “whenever travelers stop at this rest area, they will have the opportunity to understand a little bit about this marvelously unique woman, or to reacquaint themselves with Frances and remember how she touched our lives.”
All was well for more than a decade. But in June 2010, the Ohio Department of Transportation closed a number of rest areas for renovation.
The Frances B. Murphey Rest Area, on the northbound side of I-77 just south of I-271, was shut down for five months while contractors improved lighting and handicap accessibility and repaved the parking areas.
When it reopened, Fran had vanished.
Now, barring a monumental prostate issue, folks who live in Akron generally don’t need to visit a rest stop less than 10 miles from the city limits. So it wasn’t until last week that someone told me Fran was MIA.
I stopped. I looked. (And, for the record, I went.) Fran was nowhere to be found.
Miss Murphey isn’t likely to be spinning in her grave, because she didn’t sweat the small stuff.
Well, that’s not quite accurate. In one sense, she was obsessed with details, such as the correct spellings of the names of the everyday folks she wrote about in her gentle columns, which often dealt with meetings, fairs, weddings, reunions, outings and obscure museums and markers. She was a fierce advocate of accuracy.
When it came to her own accolades, though, she wasn’t much interested. At her retirement party — held at the immense Akron Civic Theatre because normal venues weren’t big enough to hold all of her admirers — she sat on the stage and took photos of people in the crowd.
If she knew I was writing this column, she probably would unleash her trademark phrase: “Go to hell.” (I’d enjoy that, because she said it only to people she liked, once explaining, “When I end up there, I want my friends there.”)
On the other hand, Frances Burke Murphey never threw anything away — especially historical markers — so she probably would be steamed, in principle, at this affront to local history.
So what’s the deal, ODOT?
After poking around for a few hours, District 4 spokesman Justin Chesnic had an answer:
“We located the plaque. It was taken down when we renovated the rest area and wasn’t put back up. We will have it installed this week.”
They did. I stopped. I looked. (And went again.)
Fran is back where she belongs. Feel free to pay her a visit — even if you don’t hear the call of nature.
Bob Dyer can be reached at 330-996-3580 or bdyer@thebeaconjournal.com.