Sabrina Darnowsky

One of the reasons that I decided to write a biography of Murray Shipley was because of the breadth of his life experiences. When you think about Levi Coffin, you associate him primarily with abolition—his work in the Underground Railroad and Western Freedmen’s Aid Society. Murray, on the other hand, took part in almost every Orthodox Quaker undertaking of the nineteenth century.

Supporting revitalization within the Religious Society of Friends and evangelism beyond it? Check. Opposing the Civil War? Check. Soliciting donations of clothing and other supplies for formerly enslaved people? Check. Organizing national Sabbath school conventions? Check. Founding a home for homeless and abandoned children? Check. Serving as an officer of the Peace Association of Friends? Check. Representing Indiana Yearly Meeting on the Associated Executive Committee for Indian Affairs? Check. Getting caught up in the holiness movement? Check. Managing a coffee house as an alternative to saloons? Check.

Indeed, Murray’s involvement in so many activities makes it challenging to decide what to include and what to omit from his story. For example, on multiple occasions he served on the board of managers at Earlham College. Did that have a big impact on his life or on the history of the school? Tom Hamm’s Earlham College: A History, 1847-1997 does mention that Murray and other moderate Friends exercised some influence there, although I’ll have to dig deeper to see if it’s worth mentioning in Murray’s biography. I do find it interesting that, in spite of his periodic affiliation with Earlham, none of his children ended up going there. They all went East—to Yale, Haverford, Bryn Mawr, and schools overseas. What does that say about Murray’s assessment of Earlham, or perhaps his own affinity for prestige?

In deciding what’s worth mentioning in his biography, I’m considering the following guidelines:

• Did the incident significantly affect the course of his life?
• Did the incident significantly affect the course of other people’s lives?
• Did the incident reveal something about the character or values of Murray or his circle?
• Does the incident move the story forward?
• Does the incident offer entertainment value?

That said, given my simultaneous, chronological approach to research and writing, it might sometimes be hard to tell what’s significant and what isn’t. For example, in 1865 Murray bought a summer home in Newport, Rhode Island. My husband questioned whether that fact was worth mentioning, but I knew that it would be. Later in life, Murray is going to be faced with an ethical question regarding that house, so readers will have to know that he owned it and what it meant to him and his family. I happen to already know that tidbit about his future, but how many other incidents am I skimming over because I don’t think they’ll be important down the road?

This reinforces the “note to self” from my previous post on Turn Every Page…Again: take notes, even just cursory ones! You never know when they’ll come in handy!