For 30 years, Marie Hernandez was an important part of the scene around the Warren County Courthouse. She saw a lot, did a lot and has great memories to share. This is the first of a two-part story.

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If Marie Hernandez ever raised her voice at you, or showed a bit of temper — which is highly unlikely — she says, “It’s just the Looney coming out in me.”

Marie, you see, was a Looney before she married Sam Hernandez. Looney is a name of Irish origin, from the Isle of Man, and not at all unusual around Decatur, in North Alabama where Marie grew up. That’s one reason no one ever teased her about the name. The other, she said, is because “The Looneys are noted for their short tempers and would fight at the drop of a hat, so for their own well-being no one ever said anything.”

Vicksburg people know Marie best because of the 30 years she spent working in the Warren County Courthouse, most of that time in the tax assessor’s office where she was chief deputy. They knew her as one with genuine charm and concern, one who was thoughtful and helpful and had a sense of humor.

In her 89 years — “and I’m knocking on 90’s door” — she’s had six jobs and never asked for any “and had to fight, trying to keep from accepting some of them.”

In addition she’s held other positions of public service and made history in several roles. Her son Bob, she said, has recently been asking her a lot of questions about her life which prompts her to think, “He’s writing my obituary.”

Among the marks she’s left on the pages of history are that she was the first female member of the Lions Club and was also the first female president of that organization. She was the first woman to be in charge of the Lions Sight Foundation, received the President’s Award from the United Way and was president of the Floral Garden Club. She’s probably the first female to run for public office in the city of Vicksburg as she sought the position of tax assessor. She later ran for the same post in the county.

She didn’t win either and said she “couldn’t get the voters interested in a woman assessor.” There was one incident, however, she won’t forget.

“I was on Oak Ridge Road, way out, and this old guy came in and was asking somebody about something, and I thought, ‘What is he doing?’” She soon found out when she was told, “He wants to meet you. He’s never seen a live candidate before.” Her thought was, “Well, I’ve done something for somebody today.”

An election she did win was when she was chosen as a delegate to the Lions Club’s national convention. Her husband, Sam, had been district governor, and she knew a lot of people around the country.

She had on her delegate badge — only delegates could vote — and she marched into the hall, “so proud of myself,” and had taken only a few steps when this gruff male voice barked, “Only delegates are allowed in here!”

All he knew was that a female had walked in, but Marie turned to him, pointed to her badge, and said in an authoritative voice, “What do you think this is?” He was quick to apologize, but she remembers it as a time when, “Marie had arrived….and the Looney came out.”

She was offered her first job when she was a high school senior taking typing. She worked afternoons in the welfare office. Then one day the Western Union messenger — “This was back in the olden days when they had boys on bikes who delivered telegrams” — told her they were looking for someone as operator at the local office. He said, “You’d love that job.”

She said she didn’t know anything about that, but he went back, told his boss who called Marie and talked her into coming to work the next day. Soon they transferred her to Huntsville and later to a number of small towns including Brewton where someone had absconded with the funds. She got that situation straightened out and then was sent to the district office in Jackson. From there she went to Utica where they had just opened an office.

“So here was this naive 19-year-old from Alabama being sent to open the Utica office because nobody else would go there,” she said. The company rented space in a hardware store, had it partitioned off and arranged for Marie’s room and board.

The owner of the building, who was from Jackson, barked at his help, and Marie thought no wonder nobody wanted to go there. That first day she worked hard, setting up all the machinery, getting the paperwork out, putting everything in order and was exhausted at the end of the day. She kept hearing this buzzing sound but didn’t know what it was, and then all of a sudden the store owner appeared at her door and snapped, “Didn’t you hear me buzz?”

“That’s when the Looney came out in me,” Marie laughed. She sat him straight in a hurry — and they became great friends.

Her next assignment was Selma, Ala., where there was a company with a straight line to Wall Street. There was a lot of bell-ringing and so forth, and the company would let only Marie handle their messages. One day she was busy and someone else answered the phone, then turned to her and whispered, “They want to speak to that little, fat girl.”

Marie recalls that she had blossomed from 118 to 130, but the comment again brought out the Looney. They got a tongue-lashing, but Marie admits she had a metabolism problem and a doctor gave her some pills — “I think I need some now.”

It was a bus trip home from Selma to Decatur that altered Marie’s life. She was changing buses in Birmingham when she saw “two good-looking soldiers in uniform. One was especially good-looking. They went into the coffee shop and I thought, ‘Well, that’s the last of that.’”

She was one of the first on the bus and took a seat about five rows behind the driver. People were finding seats, and Marie looked up to see that handsome soldier. He came to the vacant seat beside her, stood there a moment, and while she was silently saying, “Be still my heart!” he asked if he could sit with her.

She wasn’t as thrilled as she thought she would be because “all he knew to talk about was army and tanks and guns.” By the time they arrived at Decatur, he had asked for her name and address, but she thought she’d never hear from him again. Soon, however, she was getting cards and letters and phone calls. When he came to Decatur for a visit, Marie said her grandmother fell in love with him “because she liked his after-shave lotion.”

Marie was also in love, and she and Sam married at Fort Knox where he was stationed. When he was sent to Europe 10 months later, she went home to Decatur to live with her mother. That’s when the next job came about. It was at a state warehouse. When the manager called and offered her a job and asked if she had a driver’s license, she told him no but didn’t get a chance to also tell him she didn’t know how to drive.

Not to worry, he said, for the company car was insured, and “we’ll take care of you if you get stopped.” On her first assignment to go to the bank, she had to ask some workers how to start the car. She then moved it forward and backward about a dozen times before heading out of the parking spot.

Soon another job offer came about. The police chief called and wanted her to talk to some FBI agents who were looking for women to work at the Washington headquarters. She wasn’t interested, but they were very persuasive, so she took the test and gave a list of character references. Long story short — she passed the test and went to Washington.

The best twist in the story is how she got such a glowing reference from her neighbor, a Methodist preacher.

He pastored the church in town and also one out in the country, and it was just about impossible for him to always have enough gasoline. It was rationed, and you might have the money but if you didn’t have the coupon you were out of luck. It was illegal to buy, sell or give away your coupons, but the man’s daughter lived in Birmingham and carpooled, so she often passed her coupons on to her father.

One day the reverend came home to find two men sitting on the porch. He greeted them, asked if he could help them and they showed their IDs — they were from the FBI. The minister prayed a quick and silent, but fervent, prayer: “Oh God, if you’ll forgive me, I’ll never take another gas coupon.”

Then he found out they were seeking verification of Marie’s character, and he told her later, “Girl, in life you’ll never get a more glowing recommendation.”

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Gordon Cotton is an author and historian who lives in Vicksburg.