In our city known as the place where northern enterprises and southern hospitality meet, our subject first saw the light of day. It was between the time when Spanish American War veterans sang, "While We Go Marching Through Cuba," and the later time when our brave sons sang, "Good-by Broadway, Hello France." The exact time can be left as a matter of conjecture.
Born in a city with its paved streets and factory whistles seemed a little foreign to this boy who longed for the wide open spaces, and for a closer contact with mother earth. He wanted to hear the voice of the cooing turtle dove, the lowing of the cattle in the lane and get a smell of new mown hay. So the family moved to the heights of Kincaid hills where the growing lad, plowing in the field, felt the touch of mother earth as the newly turned soil trickled between the toes of his bare feet. We see him coaxing the weary mules along. One of his bib overall legs is rolled so high so that from one angle he looks like he is clothed in modern Levi's. The other pant leg is fully unrolled and strikes just above one of his bare feet. A view from one side where the suspender holds so securely and it looks like he might be wearing a combination vest and pants, while on the other side where the suspended failed to hold, the overalls wave at half mast.
There on the farm he toiled and labored. In the evening he was lulled to sleep by the gentle breezes that sweep so softly across Kincaid hills, and ere the break of day the crowing rooster and braying mules called him to awaken to another day of toil. Before he closed his eyes in sleep he listened to the whippoorwill calling out, "No rain tonight," and he knew that tomorrow would find no surcease of labor.
Early in the morning, just as the sunbeams stopped to kiss the dew, he rolled his trousers to high mast and waded out through dew, rain and snow, to bring in the cattle and the grazing steeds. He circled the barn several times like Israel of old marching around Jericho, to get the cow to stand where she had slept the night before so that the warm earth might soothe his chilled feet as he extracted a part of the family ration from patient old Bossy.
Sometimes, with all the work caught up he threw the fishing pole across his shoulder and started on a fishing trip where the slow waters on Kincaid creek wound their way to finally mingle with the Fathers of Water. At the end of his outing he ascended the hills going back with his successful catch, fish three inches long and then some small ones.
On Sundays he pushed his wet hair down securely, donned his Sunday clothes and went to Sunday School. He attended the over-crowded country school where he gave an account of himself. Those were still the days of ciphering matches and spelling for head marks, and in both contests he was a leader.
Our subject began life when O.B. doctors were unknown, when sugar and flour tied in little bags served as pacifiers, and when asafetida worn around the neck warded off diseases, when sulphur and molasses were a spring conditioner, and when sassafras tea pepped up the oldsters, while paregoric quieted the youngsters. His life ties in with the vanishing years when peach branches were used as fly chasers and long underwear was worm from Oct. 20th until May 1st.
This growing youth never lost sight of an education. As he toiled when it seemed the July sun would never set, he dreamed of an education to help him in greater service. As he stood on the hill top and looked westward toward the Mississippi, and listened to the weird whistle of the steamboats in the distance, or as he looked eastward toward sleepy Kincaid creek, that inner longing for an education asserted itself. So one day, like Joan of Arc, he bade farewell to the quiet scenes about him and swiftly descended Butter Milk Hill, going to Gorham for a high school education. As yet he did not choose to go to the county's metropolis, but preferred Gorham, where he could still hear the cooing of the doves, the cry of the whippoorwill, and where the bull frogs croaked the same as in Kincaid creek, except with a deeper voice.
Here he studied with a will and had a part in the athletic program, being a member of the football team. Graduating from high school, he continued his education at Southern Illinois Normal School, now Southern Illinois University, where he graduated. He attended the University of Illinois, where he received his Masters degree and did a years additional work to apply on his doctor's degree.
He came to the capital city of his county, and took over as the principal of Lincoln School. A few years later his school board chose him as superintendent of our city schools, a position he held for many years. A scripture he has surely fulfilled is, "Study to show thyself a workman that needs not to be ashamed."
About the time he became superintendent there was a teacher in the system that felt that she should take her problems directly to the superintendent. She seemingly had many problems, for the superintendent often visited her room and helped and so cheered her than one day Williams the conqueror, who thus far had known no defeat, sought and won this teacher to be his bride. With her sweet disposition, her Christian fortitude, her tact and rich experience in the culinary art, she helped our superintendent to climb higher on the ladder of success. Together they enjoyed the quietness of their 20th street home, a quietness broken at intervals by Ann, Virginia, and little Susie.
Professor Carruthers might have been a successful Kincaid farmer. He might have become a well-known astronomer, for in early youth he stood on Kincaid heights and viewed the starry heavens with no small degree of interest. This interest no doubt reached its climax during his courtship days, when he looked into the heavens to discover a falling star. He chose to be an administrator.
During the years of his leadership here, our schools have become well known as we pioneered in classes for those crippled in body, or with impaired visions, and those who needed special attention in order to take their places in life.
But our subject had a vision of better schools, not only in Murphysboro or southern Illinois, but throughout Illinois and the nation. He has been an outstanding lecturer at scores of teacher institutes. He has served so many important educational committees. He has looked into the eyes of Governors and state officials as he pleaded for the best for our boys and girls. He was elected to the high office of president of the Illinois Education Association. Standing on the platform with flood lights focused on him, two of his teachers that were representing our grade schools, and our Board of Education, presented our superintendent with a basket of flowers as the cameras clicked and the crowd sheered.
It was all because the Kincaid hill boy never lost his vision and had given a full account of his God given Stewardship.