Caroline Marshall Draughon

aroline Marshall Draughon
Leah Rawls Atkins
Auburn, Alabama, 1996
Reprint and Redesign by College of Liberal Arts, 2015
C

3
Auburn, Alabama
September 10, 2015
In 1996, the Auburn University Campus Club, under the leadership of President Mary Lou Matthews,
published this biographical sketch of their founder, Caroline Marshall Draughon, on the occasion of Campus
Club’s 50th
anniversary. As Matthews so beautifully stated, “Mrs. Draughon lived the ‘Auburn Spirit’ and
provided a link between generations of Auburn students, faculty, and alumni.”
Following the death of Mrs. Draughon in 2005, Auburn University renamed the Center for the
Arts & Humanities in her honor, and on the occasion of the 30th
anniversary of the Center, we offer this
reprinted edition to honor her legacy and introduce her remarkable life story to another generation.
Mrs. Draughon was a frequent attendee of public humanities programs at the Center’s home, Pebble Hill,
and her infectious smile and warm spirit filled the hallway on a regular basis.

We wish to thank Dr. Leah Rawls Atkins, the Center’s founding director, for the research and writing that
culminated in a piece most worthy of a second printing. We also wish to thank Adriene Simon for her expert
assistance with design, layout, and guiding the book through the printing process.
The Caroline Marshall Draughon Center for the Arts & Humanities strengthens the bonds between the
College of Liberal Arts and the public by creating and implementing arts and humanities programs that
explore our individual and collective experiences, values, and identifies through the past, in the present,
and for the future. We are inspired by the life story of our namesake, and we believe you will be too.
Mark Wilson, Ph.D.
Director

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Maryland after the War Between the States. His parents
grew up together. After they were married, Eugene had
entered the mercantile and advancing business in Hazen
with his father, just as Hal would do in Orrville.
In 1910 Orrville, an incorporated town of 255 people
located sixteen miles southwest of Selma, was a stop on
a branch line of the Louisville & Nashville Railroad. It
was a quiet town of sandy streets, spreading oak trees
that provided some relief from the heat of summer,
and white houses with broad verandas where families
gathered in the evenings.
Hal Marshall attended the local schools and later
Marion Institute. He fell in love with Mary Augusta
Caroline’s father, Hal Marshall,
and his sister, Laura, standing before
grandmother Marshall’s house.
I
n the fall of 1910 the young
Marshall family of Orrville in
Dallas County, Alabama, was
expecting a second baby. Harry
Eugene Marshall, called “Hal”
by his friends, operated a country store
with his father, Eugene. The Marshall
Mercantile Company, which faced the
town square, furnished farm supplies,
household goods, and staple food
products to small farmers and planters
and advanced them credit until the
cotton crops were sold. Dallas County
Caroline’s grandparents, Mr. and Mrs. Eugene Mitchell
Marshall, on the porch of their Orrville home with their
two children, Hal and Laura, sitting on the steps.
Caroline Marshall Draughon
by
Leah Rawls Atkins
is in the heart of the Alabama Black Belt, and cotton
had been planted in its loamy dark soil since before the
county was created by the Alabama territorial legislature
in 1818.
Hal Marshall’s maternal grandparents—the Boones
and the Beairds—lived near Hazen in Dallas County,
but they attended church in Orrville. His mother, Sallie
Boone Beaird, was the first baby christened in the
Orrville Methodist Church. The family later moved to
Orrville, an old settlement that had grown up around
Orr’s Mill soon after James F. Orr had a post office
established there in 1842. Hal’s paternal grandparents
emigrated to Dallas County from the eastern shore of

5
Barnes of Demopolis when she was teaching music in
Centerville, and they were married in 1907. They built a
house next door to the Marshall home. It had a beveled-
glass front door and was one block from the mercantile
store. The house had large rooms, inlaid parquet floors
in the parlor, and a paneled hall and dining room with
sliding doors from the front hall. Both houses had wide
porches and were circled by iron fences and beautiful
gardens. The “Marshall Compound” was just down
the street from the homes of uncles and aunts and first
and second cousins. The Marshalls knew everyone in
Orrville and were related by blood or marriage to most.
Mary and Hal’s first child, a son, Harry Eugene
Marshall, Jr., was born in 1909. Soon Mary was expecting
again, and having produced the first-born son of every
southern father’s dream, this time she hoped for a girl.
She was probably attended by Dr. Robert Sutton, but
no stories survive about the birth. In any case, a baby
girl with dark curls and beautiful green eyes arrived
on October 29, 1910, and was named Caroline for her
paternal great-aunt, Jane Caroline Beaird. Two more
children would eventually join the family: Albert Barnes
Marshall and Sally Boone
Beaird Marshall.
In 1920 Orrville was a wonderful place to be a child,
and the Marshall houses provided ample room for
Caroline’s aunt,
Laura Marshall
Stevens, with her
mother, Caroline’s
grandmother, Sallie
Boone Beaird
Marshall. The Hal
Marshall house
in the background
was built in 1907,
three years before
Caroline was born.
games and play activities.
There were two garages,
a big barn with a loft,
vegetable gardens, and
a green pasture with a
bubbling clear-water branch
running through it. Behind
the fields a stand of tall pine
trees served as a background
for the home place. When
grandfather Marshall died
soon after Caroline was
born, his daughter Laura, or
“Loll” as the family called
her, came home with her
husband and daughter,
Virginia. They lived with
grandmother Marshall, and

6
Loll’s husband, Wade Stevens, worked in the Marshall
store as clerk and buyer. The extended family played
an important role in Caroline’s life, and she remembers
that in those years “we had time to love, to enjoy,
and appreciate each other, as well as to disagree on
occasion.”
The children in the two houses had many cousins
to play with, and there were children living with
their parents in two servant houses in the rear yard of
grandmother Marshall’s house. Finding someone to
play baseball, catch crawfish in the little creek, or frolic
in a game of hide-and-go-seek around the barn was no
problem. The girls played paper dolls with figures and
clothes cut from the pages of the Sear Roebuck catalog,
and all the children enjoyed playing Rook. On summer
nights they caught lightning bugs in small jars.
After school the children would walk down to
Mr. Ben Wilson’s syrup mill and watch the men grind
sugarcane and boil it into syrup. Mr. Wilson would
give them a dipper taste of the cane juice or the warm
syrup. After the first bitter freeze, the children looked
forward to the annual “hog killing.” This involved the
entire household and secured a fresh supply of pork
chops, hams, and sausage. In summertime there were
watermelon cuttings, homemade ice cream parties, and
countywide barbecues. In the fall, Caroline remembers,
she “drifted off to sleep” to the sound of creaking
wagons loaded with cotton heading down the road for
the gin so their drivers could be first in line at daybreak.
Although there were servants to help with the
cooking, cleaning, and yard work, all the children had
Harry, Albert, and Caroline Marshall.
Hal Marshall with his mother
"Grandmother Marshall", and
his first two children, Harry and
Caroline

7
chores to do. They were expected to keep their rooms
clean. Aunt Sarah did the cooking, and the girls learned
to make simple dishes. General Washington, an elderly
children and his niece Virginia. On Sundays, while
Mary sang in the church choir, Hal sat with the children.
The Marshall children often walked down to the store.
They loved to play hide-and-go-seek through the aisles
and under the counters and romp on the cotton bales
piled on the platform in the back. On Saturday the boys
sold hot dogs with mustard and kraut for a nickel from
a stand in front of the store. Frequently, the children
sat quietly for hours listening to their father’s stories.
Hal Marshall had a reputation as a fine raconteur. He
Drusilla Whitt with Harry and Caroline Marshall.
Mary (Mrs. Hal) Marshall and her four
children, Caroline, Albert, baby Sally,
and Harry.
wisdom with her and making sure she stayed well and
healthy. Drusilla expected her to have the best manners,
and she disciplined all the children when they were
disorderly. When the Marshalls went to Selma for a
play or the opera, Drusilla supervised pillow fights
between Caroline and Albert and slept on a pallet next
to Caroline’s bed.
Hal Marshall always found time to spend with his
black man, was
a combination
yardman,
gardener,
milkman, and
chauffeur, but the
boys assisted. For
all of Caroline’s
growing-
up memory,
Drusilla Whitt,
her beloved
mammy, lived
alone in a small
house behind
her parents’
home. Drusilla
took the greatest
care of Caroline,
sharing folk
loved a good joke,
and for customers at
the red-brick Marshall
Mercantile a visit
included swapping
stories with him.
Visitors relaxed on the
long wooden benches
or cane chairs in front
of the store and rested
under the shade of the
canopy that hung to the
street. On Saturdays,
when the town was
crowded, the seats
in front of Marshall
Mercantile were filled.
People sat, visited,
and watched other
shoppers.
The long store had

8
with tools, farm supplies, golden oak or pine furniture,
coffins, harnesses, and leather goods adjoined the store.
A large covered platform at the rear held the weights
farmers used to weigh their cotton before hauling it
to Selma.
Caroline “grew up in a home where music, art, and
three sections. Groceries, brooms, barrels of pickled pig
feet, huge glass jars filled with candy, and staples were
in one area. Nice shoes and leather boots were in the
middle, and piece goods, hats, men’s clothing, a few
ready-made garments, and toiletries, including Hoyt’s
Cologne, were in the third section. A warehouse filled
In the early twenties, a farmer could buy all he needed from Marshall Mercantile. Wade Stevens and Taylor Shields with Hal Marshall, who is
wearing hat and sweater.

9
the love of literature were appreciated.” Her mother
played the piano, and the family often gathered to sing
to her accompaniment. The Marshalls were members
of the Episcopal Church in Selma. Because the gravel
road to Selma made for such a long journey, the family
attended the local Methodist Sunday school and church
and worshiped every other Sunday with the Baptists at
an eleven o’clock service. Whenever there was a family
religious occasion, the Episcopal rector came from Selma
and conducted weddings, christenings, and funerals in
grandmother Marshall’s parlor.
During the summer months Caroline’s great-aunt,
Jane Caroline Beaird, whom the children called “Kiel,”
came to live with her sister, grandmother Marshall.
She was a “maiden lady” who had broken her hip at
twelve and, because it did not heal properly, was forced
to use crutches the rest of her life. She taught art and
math at the prestigious Lulie Compton Seminary for
Young Ladies in Birmingham. Her arrival in Orrville for
holidays and at the beginning of summer was always
anticipated with excitement, for she was a favorite with
the children, as they were with her.
Kiel would come to Selma on the Southern Railroad,
and father Marshall would drive the family to meet the
train. During the drive, Mary would warn her children
not to ask Kiel what she had brought to them “because
it was bad manners.” But, Caroline remembers, “before
Kiel could get settled in the automobile” the children
“couldn’t wait” to ask, “What did you bring us?” She
never failed them. Beautiful and unusual handmade
gifts were carefully packed in her luggage—stuffed
dolls, handpainted china ring holders, perhaps a pretty
pincushion, or a new dress. Aunt Kiel was especially
close to Caroline, and all her life, they shared a love for
each other. Kiel was a talented seamstress and made all
of Caroline’s clothes. She selected the most beautiful
fabrics and laces in Birmingham for her creations, and
she took pride in her ruffles, tucks, and frills. During
World War I she made Caroline a white uniform just like
the Red Cross ladies wore, and Caroline joined them to
help sell soft drinks to raise money for the war.
Aunt Kiel had a great influence on Caroline’s life.
She carefully oversaw Caroline’s education in the local
Orrville grammar school, checking her progress each
Caroline and her great-aunt Jane
Caroline Beaird, “Kiel,” visited
the Lake Junaluska, North
Carolina, summer home of the
F.M. Jackson family in 1921
when Caroline was eleven.

10
summer and enriching Caroline’s education by reading
to her and making sure she had an appreciation for
art and the ability to do her math problems correctly.
Reading was important in the Marshall household, and
Aunt Kiel made certain Caroline had the right books
to read and that she knew the classics. She instilled in
Caroline a love for learning and an understanding that
education is a lifelong adventure. She taught Caroline
about life outside Orrville and Selma, about the world
beyond Montgomery and Birmingham. The summer
before Caroline’s last year in high school, she and Kiel
took an Elliott train tour to Canada and the Far West.
They visited Banff, Lake Louise, Vancouver, Seattle, San
Francisco, Yellowstone Park, and Denver.
The Marshall family had the security of a long
lineage in the Black Belt, and although they were one
of the wealthiest families in Orrville, they worked hard
and spent their money carefully and wisely. Caroline’s
mother and her grandmother Marshall directed their
households with the refinement and good taste typical of
early twentieth-century southern small-town life. Good
manners, responsible behavior, and proper conduct had
nothing to do with money. The Marshall and Beaird
women taught Caroline the graces and polite etiquette
that southern society expected of a lady, and these
manners were so instilled into Caroline’s being that she
wore them as naturally as one would a comfortable
old coat so they flowed from her with ease and
without affectation.
Caroline Marshall grew up surrounded by people
who loved her, in a little place, almost an enchanted
land, where she learned to love people easily and to give
of herself openly and with grace. Living in a privileged
society where race and class meant everything,
Caroline’s father insisted that his children “be gracious
and kind and thoughtful to everyone, no matter their
status in life.” She learned to be grateful to those who
did things for her and to express her appreciation
quickly with a sincere heart. In a southern world so
segregated by law and custom, she grew up loving
Drusilla, her mammy, with a closeness that lasted all
Drusilla’s life. She moved comfortably in a black world
that southern city-dwellers and northerners found
awkward, and her relationships with servants were
always close and congenial.
Caroline attended the Orrville grammar school, but
because the only accredited high school was in Selma,
she was allowed to drive to Selma in her T-model Ford.
Two local boys who attended the Dinkins Training
School in Selma rode with her. She excelled in English,
French, and history and struggled with chemistry and
math, despite Kiel’s tutoring. Caroline was a member
of the student council and the dramatic club and
was homeroom chairman. During this time Caroline
developed an appreciation for boys. At Selma High
School she had boyfriends by the dozens. One friend
and classmate was Ralph “Shug” Jordan, whom her
husband would hire in 1951 as Auburn’s football coach.
Caroline graduated from Selma High School in 1927
and enrolled in the Woman’s College of Alabama, now
Huntingdon College, in Montgomery. She was elected
president of her freshman class and took a leadership

11
role in campus activities. She majored in English, French,
and home economics and was a member of Kappa
Kappa Sorority and the Pan-Hellenic Council. In 1930
she was advertising manager of the student newspaper,
Wo-Co-Ala News. She recalled that she “dated every
weekend” and the social life in Alabama’s capital city
was exciting. Life at Huntingdon opened new doors for
Caroline. She enjoyed the friendship of girls, the formal
dinners, and the challenging coursework.
In the summer of 1929 Caroline came to Auburn
to attend summer courses at the Alabama Polytechnic
Institute (A.P.I.). She rented a room from Dr. and Mrs.
Isaac S. McAdory, who lived in the two-story house at
the corner of Burton and East Magnolia. Caroline took
her meals at Mrs. Gertrude Lane’s boarding house on
Gay Street. Tommy Amason, who “hopped tables” for
Mrs. Lane that summer, remembered Caroline Marshall
as “not only beautiful” but also “the most polite and
cheerful young lady” he served.
Caroline’s classes were taught by Miss Louise
Glanton on the third floor of Comer Hall. She studied
during the day and remembers that she “partied and
dated at night. . . After experiencing the strict regimen
at Huntingdon, I was shocked and happily surprised
at being able to attend parties in the fraternity houses
unchaperoned.” Although it was during prohibition, she
saw “that horrible drink called ‘Home Brew’ being made
in the fraternity bathtubs.”
Mr. and Mrs. Hal Marshall, Sr.
Caroline while she was a student at
Huntingdon College.
That summer she ran into
Ralph Draughon, or rather
he ran into her—deliberately.
She had met him earlier in
Orrville, when he came in
1928 to be principal of the
new high school, but since he
was older than she was, she
“didn’t pay any attention to
him.” Ralph was a native of
Hartford and had graduated
from A.P.I. in 1922. He had
returned to Auburn to work
on a master’s degree and was
living upstairs at Miss Cora Hardy’s (on East Magnolia
Avenue one door from the corner of College Street).
One afternoon when he was typing away on his thesis,
he looked out his window and saw Caroline walking in
front of Toomer’s Hardware (now Auburn Hardware).
She was, so all the stories go from those who were
in Auburn that summer, a “picture of loveliness,” a

12
“beautiful girl with sparkling eyes that danced when
you spoke to her.” Ralph must have raced down the
stairs, because he caught up with her well before she
reached the corner of Gay Street. He walked her down
to Mrs. McAdory’s, and they sat on the porch swing.
Although this was not an official date, it was the
beginning of a close and loving relationship that would
last all his life.
When summer ended Caroline returned to
in October 1929. The ensuing depression devastated
Hal Marshall’s business. Cotton fell to five cents a
pound, and farmers to whom he had advanced credit
were unable to pay him and he could not pay his own
bills. The depression destroyed the family’s financial
security; however, through Kiel’s help, Caroline was
able to return to Huntingdon and complete her degree.
The mettle of a person’s character is tested in adversity,
and the Marshall women found ways to survive. Mary
Ralph B. Draughon taken before he came to Orrville in
1928 to be the principal of the new high school.
Huntingdon for her junior year,
and Ralph Draughon went back
to his job as principal of Orrville
High School. In September she
returned home after the Friday
night Montgomery football game
between Auburn and Birmingham-
Southern. Caroline was sitting in
a car in Selma while her date went
inside a store, and Ralph walked
up. He asked her for a date, and she
accepted, breaking her date to do
so. That night Ralph called at the
Marshall home in Orrville, and after
sitting in the parlor listening to Mrs.
Marshall play Liebestraum on the
piano, he said to Caroline, “Let’s go
outside to see if there’s a moon.” She
remembered that “the moon was
shining brightly!”
The courtship was marred only
by the New York Stock Market crash
sold fresh vegetables from her garden
and canned tomatoes and jelly from
her kitchen. She raised and sold giant
camellias. Hal’s appointment as U.S.
Postmaster for Orrville kept the
family afloat, but barely. Caroline,
vice-president of her class, graduated
from Huntingdon College in the
spring of 1931.
The wedding of Caroline Marshall
and Ralph Draughon on June 9,
1931, in her home in Orrville took
place in the depths of the depression.
Mary had gathered every shasta
daisy in town to decorate the dining
room, which was set up with chairs
for family and close friends. The
wedding dress was purchased, but
her trousseau was left over from
Kiel’s creations that Caroline had
taken to college. Caroline and Ralph
were married by the Episcopal rector

13
from Selma, and after the reception, the couple drove to
Mobile in Ralph’s Ford coupe for their honeymoon. The
next day they crossed the bay to Bon Secour where they
had rented Governor Bibb Graves’ cabin at Cooper’s
Fish Camp. It was a sparsely furnished house with no
East Magnolia and DeBardeleben. Their rent was $30 a
month. Because her brother Albert and Ralph’s brother,
James, had no money and were eager to attend college,
they brought the boys to Auburn. They both lived with
the Draughons, and Caroline cooked for all three of her
“men” on a four-eye burner.
The next year, the boys moved out because Caroline
was expecting a baby, and the Draughons moved down
the street to the downstairs apartment in a house on the
corner of East Magnolia and Ross, the present location of
The Back Porch. The sudden death of Professor William
Phillips Brown gave Professor Draughon a permanent
position, and they never left Auburn. Daughter Ann
was born in 1932, and Ralph Jr., called “Bubba” as a
child, arrived in 1935. When Dr. Petrie wrote a friend
and updated him on the history faculty’s activities, he
reported that “Draughon is walking the floor at night
with the baby.”
Ralph hoped to continue his studies and earn a
doctoral degree in political science. He received a
small grant and was able to spend one summer at the
University of Chicago, but was never able to return.
These were the hard years of the depression. Caroline
recalls that “we had no money—nothing but love, and
plenty of friends who were in the same boat.” At times
the college had insufficient funds to draw salary checks
for faculty and staff because state funds were only
partly appropriated. But local merchants were generous
with credit, and the Draughons charged at Hudson’s
Grocery, at William McDow Moore’s Market, and at
Homer Wright’s drugstore. The family went to movies
Caroline with her father shortly before he died.
indoor plumbing. It
was situated close
to the water, and
they spent time
swimming and
fishing, sports which
they would enjoy for
years.
The newlyweds
returned to Orrville,
but before they were
able to settle in, Dr.
George Petrie called
from Auburn and
asked Ralph to meet
him in Montgomery.
While Ralph lunched
with the head of Auburn’s history department, Caroline
went shopping. Dr. Petrie asked Ralph to come and
teach one year for a professor who had been forced to
take a leave of absence because of illness. This was an
exciting opportunity. After talking to Caroline, Ralph
accepted the offer and resigned his position with the
Orrville school.
In the fall of 1931, they rented the upstairs apartment
of the old stone Lawson house, located on the corner of

14
for a dime each, “cheered the Auburn Tigers,” joined
community step sings in front of Langdon Hall, and
“sat around the drugstores drinking five-cent cokes”
and discussing “the latest books or delving into
Auburn’s history.”
When her sister, grand-mother Marshall, died, Aunt
Kiel came to Auburn to live with the Draughon family.
The family was crowded for a while, but managed to
move closer to town: to a large house on East Magnolia,
one door from Gay Street. Kiel sewed for Caroline and
Ann and helped look after the children. Ann came to
love Kiel as much as her mother did and every morning
would jump into Kiel’s bed, bringing her cat with her.
The Draughons sold their only car in order to pay
Dr. Cecil Yarbrough for delivering the children and by
1937 were finally out of debt.
In 1935 Dr. Luther N. Duncan, director of the
Agricultural Extension
Service, was made president
of A.P.I. Two years later
President Duncan asked
Ralph to leave Samford’s
third-floor history
department and come to the
President’s Office to serve as
his executive secretary. This
offer surprised and puzzled
the Draughons because
the young professor really
did not know President
Duncan. But Ralph was
The Draughon family, 1934.
highly regarded by
George Petrie, and his
reputation as a thorough
and demanding teacher
was as well-known as
his amiable manner
and his genuine interest
in his students. Ralph
made no secret of his
love for Auburn and
his commitment to its
mission of educating the
state’s young people.
Coming from extension,
Duncan recognized
that he needed an
administrative assistant
who could provide
Caroline and daughter Ann, 1932.
leadership to the academic faculty. Duncan’s forte was
garnering much-needed financial support from the state
and from federal New Deal legislation; meanwhile,
Professor Draughon nurtured the academic programs
and strengthened the quality of the faculty. Ralph was
also made secretary to the Board of Trustees and in 1944
became director of instruction.
In 1940 two of Caroline’s friends, Henrietta Davis
and Jane Yarbrough, talked her into joining them as Lee
County U.S. Census takers. This would be rendering
a public service for which they would be paid, and
besides, they said, it would be a great adventure.
Caroline was assigned the southeastern part of the

15
county; so every morning for weeks she would start
out down the dirt and gravel roads of rural Lee County,
stopping at every house. She knocked on doors and
visited with the families, asking the questions on the
government form and recording their answers. Her
friendly manner, charm, and grace impressed the
people, while her heart was touched by the poverty she
often found. She always remembered those families,
their names, and the conditions of their lives and never
forgot that this “was the only money I ever earned in my
entire life!”
While the family was still living in the big old
house on East Magnolia, an incident occurred that
illustrates Caroline’s patient and caring nature. Ralph
smaller house in Pinedale. Ann remembered Auburn in
those days as a place where she could “ride my tricycle
all over town.” These were happy years, despite the
illness that took Kiel from them. Caroline nursed her
great-aunt with the help of Dora Foote and Annie Foster,
who was there with Caroline the night Kiel died.
Despite the rationing and restrictions that went with
World War II, the Draughons managed. Money came
easier, and Caroline often entertained friends, such as
Neil and Henrietta Davis, with waffle suppers. The
children were growing up, and leisure days were spent
at Lake Auburn, fishing, picnicking, and swimming.
Caroline was a strong swimmer since she learned to
swim as a child in Johnson’s Mill Pond in Dallas County,
and she taught most of Ann and Ralph Jr.’s friends to
swim at Lake Auburn. She spent her days shepherding
the children and being a room mother at school.
Caroline led a busy social life. She poured tea at college
functions, attended meetings of the United Daughters of
the Confederacy, PEO, and the Woman’s Club, played
bridge, or joined her sewing club for lunch. She was
active in the Episcopal Church Women and the
Altar Guild.
Caroline wanted her children to take advantage of
every cultural activity that was scheduled on the A.P.I.
campus. They attended all the Great Artist Series that
were booked in Langdon Hall, and Ann remembers
seeing the real Von Trapp Singers performing during
World War II and Charles Laughton rendering a
dramatic reading. Caroline drove the children to
Montgomery to see the touring Broadway production of
Caroline's Aunt Kiel came to Auburn to
live with Caroline and her family after her
sister died.
Jr. remembers that he
was afraid of noises in
the attic and was certain
ghosts were about.
Caroline gently took
him by the hand, and
they went to the attic
together to see what was
there so he would not be
frightened. “She taught
him,” his sister Ann
recalled, “to look at fear
and deal with it in a very
rational way.”
In 1940 the Draughon
family moved away from
town to a newer but

16
John Brown’s Body and a performance by Spike Jones.
They attended the plays, shows, and recitals of the
students and faculty of the college. But whatever they
did and wherever she took them, Caroline made it fun
and exciting. Because of gas rationing during the World
War, the Draughon family walked wherever they could.
Ralph Jr. recalls that she took them, “trailing behind her
like ducks in a row,” to the step sings at Langdon Hall
on summer nights.
The Draughons were closely involved with helping
the college adapt to wartime conditions and the
government’s call for officer training programs. The
college went on the quarter system, enrollment climbed,
and more demands were placed upon faculty as many
young professors left for military duties. The influx of
young men from all over the country who came as part
of Army and Navy programs housed at Auburn created
a more cosmopolitan student body. After the war, Ralph
was responsible for re-building the college faculty and
providing for thousands of additional students. Veterans
attending Auburn on the G.I. Bill swelled enrollment.
The larger student body strained both the facilities of the
college and the ability of the campus and town to house
and feed so many young people.
When President Duncan became ill in 1947, Professor
Draughon was responsible for running the college.
When Duncan died on July 26, 1947, Draughon was
appointed acting president. He began working with the
trustee committee to find a new president, contacting
names of individuals who should be considered in
a nationwide presidential search. Many outstanding
Caroline and Ralph Jr.
educators and businessmen visited the campus and
were entertained at the Draughon home in Pinedale.
Caroline was allowed to turn in an expense form to the
A.P.I. business office of not more than $2.50 per person.
Although many candidates were interviewed by the
board, after twelve months the trustees selected Ralph
as president. In 1948
when Governor James
E. Folsom, chairman
of the trustees, called
Professor Draughon
and reporters into the
room and announced
the board’s decision,
Draughon was caught
by surprise. The
newspaper noted
that the professor
was “visibly moved.”
Draughon said that
“it was the greatest
honor that could come
to any member of the
staff at Auburn.” After expressing his appreciation to
the governor and the trustees, he found it difficult to say
more, so he concluded his remarks by inviting everyone
“to go and eat.”
In an interview with the Birmingham News a few
weeks after being named president, Draughon observed
that it was “a big job for a fisherman.” The newspaper
reported that gardening was Caroline’s “retreat, as

17
fishing is her husband’s. Flower arrangement . . . the
P.T.A . . . company for dinner . . .the children’s clothes . .
. a new book . . . a fishing trip, all must be fitted into her
crowded days.” The Auburn Bulletin noted that the new
first lady “sews well, cooks well, and can even dress a
string of fish caught by her fisherman husband with as
much skill as a doctor wields a scalpel.”
The Draughons stayed in their Pinedale house
for some months while the president’s home was
refurbished. The Southern and Colonial Revival
style house, completed in 1939 as a Public Works
Administration project, had been vacant for more than
a year. Caroline furnished the sun room with casual
rattan furniture and worked to make the 6,750 square-
foot house into an official residence to entertain guests
of Auburn. Donations of furniture included the fine
secretary and the grandfather clock that once belonged
to an Alabama governor and traveled from Montgomery
to Auburn in a hearse.
The Draughons were fortunate to have Ruth Dallas
assist in the kitchen and Jim Smith to help them run the
house. He had come to work for Dr. Duncan as a young
man, and Mrs. Duncan had taught him many things
about polishing brass and silver, serving formal dinners,
and directing the cleaning and upkeep of the house.
Jim drove the president to out-of-town meetings and
patiently waited during even the longest conference. He
knew his way around Montgomery and Birmingham
and recognized trustees and prominent alumni by name.
The official residence was also home to the
Draughon children, and Caroline wanted it to be
comfortable and inviting. The children were “just a little
afraid of the big house.” Ann, a high school student,
was concerned that her friends would not come to visit
and would be uneasy parking their jalopies in such
“an imposing driveway.” Years later when Ralph Jr.,
Ann, and Caroline were taking a nostalgic tour of the
second floor of the house with Ann Martin, the current
first lady asked “who lived in this small bedroom with
the small closet?” Ralph immediately said, “I did, but I
didn’t care about the size of the closet. I liked the room
because I could go out the window, onto the roof of the
back porch, and down the drainpipe, and Mother would
never know that I was gone!” To which his mother
replied, “I didn’t know that!”
Lake Auburn was a favorite place for picnics, swimming, and fishing. Caroline
Draughon with Dr. Pat Basore getting ready for a picnic.

18
Ralph Jr. recalls that the A.P.I. official residence had
been “known locally as the president’s mansion. My
mother put a stop to that. It became the president’s
home, and she corrected people when they called it by
the old designation.” Although Caroline was hostess for
large parties and official functions, Neil Davis believes
Caroline’s “greatest contribution to Auburn” was “in the
family-like entertaining of small groups of people who
loved Auburn.” The couple’s warmth and compassion
endeared them to Auburn students, townspeople, and
alumni. The atmosphere they fostered caused visitors to
comment that Auburn was more than a college; it was a
way of life.
Although President Draughon had received an
honorary doctor of laws degree from Birmingham-
Southern College and his title of doctor or president was
used by most people, to old friends and townspeople he
was affectionately called “’Fessor Draughon.” He called
his wife “Miss Caroline” and later “the Chancellor of
Auburn University.” Close friends described President
Draughon as both “ornery” and “lovable,” a direct man
who “manages to confound and confuse the enemy at all
The Auburn United Daughters of the Confederacy placed a marker on the front of the Scott-
Yarbrough House (Pebble Hill) about 1937 to mark William Lowndes Yancey’s use of the house
as a summer home in the 1850s. Left to right: Dean John J. Wilmore, Caroline Draughon, Dean
George Petrie, Molly Hollifield Jones, Colonel Thomas D. Samford, and Letty (Mrs. Bennett
Battle) Ross. Caroline’s suit had belonged to Ralph, but Kiel had re-made it for her.
The Draughon family when they were
living on Pinedale: Ralph Jr.(“Bubba”),
Caroline, Ralph, and Ann.

19
times.” Associates described him as a good educator, but
not “a stuffed shirt.” Draughon himself claimed the title
of the “best fly fisherman” but the “worst wing shot in
the whole United States.”
While Ralph Draughon was acting president, two
new faculty wives, Amy Westveld (Mrs. R.H.) and
Ada Stevens (Mrs. Terrell), organized a group to help
new faculty wives meet each other and learn about
the Auburn community. The Newcomers Club began
meeting in 1946 with Mrs. Westveld as president.
The club was so successful that, as Caroline recalled,
“the older faculty wives were a bit jealous of the
good times the Newcomers were having.” On March
8, 1948, Caroline wrote a letter to Dean of Women
Katharine Cater, Dean of the School of Home Economics
Dana Gatchell, and the wives of all A.P.I. deans and
administrative officers inviting them to attend an
informal meeting at Social Center (Cater Hall) to
discuss “the need for a campus club” that might meet
monthly and sponsor faculty receptions, dances, and
other projects.
At the meeting two days later, Miss Gatchell moved
for the organization of a campus club at A.P.I., and the
motion carried unanimously. A steering committee was
appointed, and the next month it reported a constitution
with dues at $1 a year. Caroline noted that the original
Campus Club included the wives of A.P.I. trustees,
including the governor’s wife, because she believed that
Caroline often enjoyed
sewing and knitting.
Caroline’s family in the sun room of the president’s home after Ralph was named president. Vassie (Mrs. John
Draughon), mother of the president, Ralph, Caroline, Ann, and Ralph Jr.

20
“it was very important to involve the trustees’ wives in
the social life of the campus.”
The first meeting was a membership tea on the
lawn of the president’s home on May 21, 1948, and
the president’s wife was to be the “Chairman of the
Day.” Caroline was so good with people that very soon
she was able to call everyone by name. In these years
Campus Club events were all best-dress, white-gloves-
and-hat affairs. Delphine Thomas, whose husband,
Albert, was a professor in Engineering, was elected the
first president. Within a few weeks, 275 members had
paid their dues. The fall meeting of Campus Club, which
included the members of the Newcomers Club, was
held in the dining hall of the new men’s dormitory on
West Magnolia Avenue. Mary Greene, wife of veterinary
professor Jim Greene, was “Chairman of the Day.”
Caroline remained an advisor to the Campus Club
board for fourteen years. Sometimes she was called
upon to smooth over differences and misunderstandings
and to handle difficult people. Once a department
head’s wife suggested to a professor’s wife from her
husband’s department that she “had better go along”
with her position regarding a Campus Club matter,
which was not the direction the board supported.
Caroline reassured the young woman, telling her, “I’ll
see that it is done. And don’t you worry.” Caroline
always had a way of handling unpleasant people, and
her family marveled at how she managed to charm
even the most dyspeptic politician, trustee, or alumnus.
Nancy Shivers has observed that “people behave better
around Caroline Draughon.”
Caroline’s genuine interest in people and her sense
of caring are illustrated in many stories. Ruth Dallas
baked marvelous pound cakes, and whenever there
was sickness or a death in a faculty family, Caroline
would arrive with one of Ruth’s pound cakes, usually
decorated with a flower or something special. Often
the family was not aware that she knew them and was
surprised she had knowledge of their adversity. Leon
Caroline loved to work in her flower garden at the president’s home.

21
Cain recalls a couple who had driven a long way to see
their son graduate from Auburn, but arrived too late to
get inside Langdon Hall. Caroline met them at the front
steps, immediately understood what had happened, and
took them around to the back steps and helped them
find seats at the front.
Throughout Draughon’s years in the president’s
office, he had worked with the A.P.I. Athletic
Department to resume football games with the
University of Alabama. The two teams had not played
since the 1907 game ended in a 6-6 tie. Despite the myth
that a fight caused the annual game to be scrapped,
scheduling problems in 1908 had prevented the teams
from meeting and the series was simply not renewed.
President Draughon had a part in re-scheduling
Alabama in 1948, to the delight of the number-one
Auburn fan at his house. Caroline particularly enjoyed
football season and thrived on all the added social
responsibility.
Following Auburn’s winless season in 1950,
there was pressure from alumni, especially Governor
Gordon Persons, for President Draughon to fire the
football coach. President Draughon wanted a winning
team, but he resisted pressure. Finally, he released the
coach and appointed a search committee chaired by
the new athletic director, Jeff Beard. One winter night
the committee and President Draughon met at the
president’s home to interview the last candidate. With
the deadline for the morning papers moving close, the
front porch was covered with sports reporters peering
in the windows and waiting for an announcement.
Caroline and Ralph at a dance in the home of
Mr. and Mrs. Sheldon Toomer.

22
Caroline, after making sure there was plenty of coffee
and food for the committee working in the sunroom,
retreated to the kitchen. She answered a knock at the
back door and greeted young Bill Beckwith, who was
then still a student but had been elevated to the number-
one man in the athletic publicity office. He was escorting
all the sports writers. He asked if they could please
come in and get warm and maybe have some coffee. “Of
course,” replied Caroline. She shut all the doors to the
rest of the house; then in the small kitchen she served
coffee and rolls to the reporters, who took turns going to
the front of the house to look in the windows and make
sure nothing was being missed.
Caroline was especially interested in who was
hired because the coach being interviewed was “Shug”
Jordan, a 1929 classmate of hers at Selma High School.
Jordan was hired that night at a salary of $12,000 a
year, and the announcement was made at 12:30 a.m. to
a crowd of students and reporters. About one o’clock
in the morning Caroline finally cleared her house of
celebrating alumni and fans.
From the time she became first lady, Caroline
had been interested in students. She arranged for
various student leaders and groups to meet at the
president’s home once a quarter and, assisted by Deans
Katharine Cater and Jim Foy, would serve home-baked
refreshments, which the students appreciated. She
began freshmen picnics every fall so new students had
an opportunity to meet the president at his home. The
president’s reception for parents and graduates became
a special occasion for families. The Draughons often
attended fraternity dances and the campus-wide spring
Military Ball. After daughter Ann became an Auburn art
student in 1951, the student traffic around the Draughon
home increased. In 1956 the Glomerata staff recognized
the contributions of President and Mrs. Draughon by
dedicating the annual to them. Mrs. Draughon, they
wrote, has been “outstanding as the gracious, sincere,
and much respected first lady and hostess whose
warmth and friendliness have made her a friend to all
who know her.”
Caroline recognized that the A.P.I. student body
changed after the war. More students were married,
and many male students had working wives who were
helping send them through school. She organized the
Dame’s Club to provide a way for these spouses to
be involved and have a part in the life of the college.
Before graduation, she presided at a special ceremony
At the Newcomers membership tea at the president's home in October 1963,Caroline
Draughon welcomes Nancy (Mrs. W.D.) Spears, president of Newcomers, and
Mrs. D.H. Galbreath, who has arrived from the Canal Zone.

23
where she conferred on each graduate’s wife the
“P.H.T.” (Pushing Hubby Through) degree, complete
with embossed certificate. The diploma noted their
“willingness to make ‘home’ in a few small rooms, to
wear old hose and pretend there were no runs; to spend
late hours typing Hubby’s thesis instead of dancing
under the stars” and honored them “because you’ve
been the light of his life when he has needed you to
shine the brightest.”
Auburn students were known to gather quickly,
whether for rolling Toomer’s Corner or an impromptu
pep rally. After word came that Auburn had won the
national football championship in 1957, an “enormous
crowd of students” swarmed toward the president’s
home cheering and demanding a holiday. They stood
in the brick circle and chanted. Because the president
was out of town, Caroline was home alone. Undaunted,
she went outside, gave a “War Eagle!” yell, then told
the students she “couldn’t give them a holiday,” so “go
home and get back to studying for final examinations.”
They went home. She had a special relationship with
the KAs, whose fraternity house was across from her
backyard. When they were enjoying keg parties while
she was in the garden or side yard, they would holler,
“Hey! Miss Caroline!” And she would turn to Ann and
say, “Aren’t those the sweetest boys,” oblivious to the
reason for their rather happy condition.
During the early years of the Draughon presidency,
Auburn’s first couple became close friends with
Julia and Tom Russell. Julia had been a student at
Huntingdon with Caroline, and the Draughons often
visited the Russells at their cottage on Lake Martin.
About 1952 the Draughons picked out a lovely point on
the lake and built a cottage. They planted flowers, raised
tomatoes, and purchased a boat. They renewed their
fishing with great enthusiasm and became something
of a fixture to lake folk, who would recognize them in
their small boat skimming across the water early in
the morning or at dusk headed for one of their favorite
fishing holes. Once coming home on a dark moonless
night, they took a wrong turn at Blue Creek and
wandered lost until midnight. It was, Caroline recalled,
these “long, quiet weekends we spent there casting for
bass until the moon rose” which she enjoyed most.
As President Draughon approached the anniversary
of his tenth year as president, the Alabama Polytechnic
Institute had progressed under his leadership to
university status. A Draughon dream was fulfilled
in 1960 when the Alabama legislature recognized
this achievement by renaming the college Auburn
University. The Draughon family was changing also. In
1957 Ann married Thomas G. Cousins of Atlanta, and
Ralph Jr. was an Auburn senior N.R.O.T.C. student.
Ralph was thinking about retiring. He had suffered
a heart attack in 1954, and old Doctor Thomas had put
him to bed for a month, telling Caroline he would look
after him there because “Ralph would go crazy at the
hospital.” The president saw only Dr. David Mullins,
who assumed the administrative work of the college, Joe
Sarver, who headed the alumni association, and George
Murphy, who came from Educational Television and
brought Dr. Draughon one of the first television sets in

24
town. Although Ralph had recovered nicely by 1960, he
was mindful of another hurdle the university faced, and
he felt he had one other job to do for Auburn before he
retired.
The civil rights movement had escalated since the
successful Montgomery Bus Boycott in 1955. Conscious
of the confrontations at Ole Miss in the fall of 1962 and
Governor George Wallace’s “stand in the school house
door” at the University of Alabama in 1963, President
Draughon was determined that he would guide
Auburn through integration of the campus smoothly
and without violence. He established a campus-wide
committee which met to discuss every possibility and
to make plans for the eventual admission of the school’s
first black student. Caroline hosted some of the meetings
at the president’s home. In January 1964 a black student was quietly enrolled in the graduate program in history,
and there was little notice. Ralph Jr., with visions of the
Life magazine photograph of the president’s wife at
Tuscaloosa being pelted with rotten eggs by University
of Alabama students, called from graduate school at
Chapel Hill to find out what happened. He remembers
his mother laughed at him, “Of course everything went
smoothly,” she said. “Nothing like that could happen at
Auburn.”
However, it was during the tension of these months
when Caroline, alone in the president’s home one
night, received a threatening telephone call. A man said
he was “going to kill” her, and Caroline quickly said,
“No, you’re not!” and hung up the receiver. Although
Caroline took this lightly and nothing ever came of it,
Ralph never again allowed her to stay alone at night.
Caroline initiated the president’s picnic supper for freshmen, which was
held on the lawn of the president’s home just before fall.
Caroline and Ralph are proud parents of Ann and Ralph Jr. on the
day of Ann’s Auburn graduation in 1954.

25
When he was away, he had one of Joe and Molly
Sarver’s boys come over to spend the night.
In 1963 Huntingdon College honored Caroline and
recognized her accomplishments by making her Alumna
of the Year. The Achievement Award praised her
“influence on the thousands of young men and women
who have passed through Auburn University since
she has been its president’s wife” and noted that her
influence had not been merely local, “but worldwide.”
Her family gathered for the ceremony, and daughter
Ann remembers her amazement as she saw her mother
in a new role. Caroline stood so proudly and accepted
the award so articulately that Ann saw another side of
her mother.
With integration established, the new university
library open, and plans and funding secure for both
a new basketball coliseum and a classroom building,
which would become Haley Center, Draughon decided
it was time he devoted all his attention to fishing. In
1965 as he was leaving the presidency, the board of
trustees honored him by naming for him the campus
building that meant the most to him—the Ralph
Brown Draughon Library. The trustees also recognized
Caroline’s contributions to Auburn in an appropriate
way—naming the married student apartment complex
the Caroline Draughon Village. In 1965 President
Draughon turned over the Auburn presidency to Dr.
Harry M. Philpott, and Caroline graciously paved the
way for his wife, Polly, to assume her responsibilities.
Each spring Caroline held an Easter egg hunt for the children of the Dames
Club members and A.P.I. students.
In December 1954 Caroline hosted a Christmas party for the children of A.P.I.
students and faculty.

26
The Draughons moved to a small house in Auburn,
and life became slow and easy. Caroline told everyone
when she left the president’s home, “If you’re looking
for us, we’ll be where the fish are biting!” and they spent
much time fishing at Lake Martin. By then Ann and Tom
had a cottage nearby, and the grandchildren, who called
Caroline “Gommy,” visited most of the summer. The
Philpotts soon had a lake house, too, and their children
loved to come over and swim with “Miss Candylion.”
Three years later, in 1968, returning home from a
visit to Montgomery, Ralph Draughon collapsed from
a massive heart attack and died instantly. Perhaps it
was providence that he reached Auburn before he was
stricken. The editorial in the Auburn Bulletin noted his
contributions to Auburn University and observed that
Draughon’s “circle of longtime friends here, with whom
he fished and argued politics and matters philosophical,
had lost one of the principal objects of its affection.”
There were those who worried about Caroline—they
had been a team for so long and were devoted to each
other. But her close friends were confident that after time
to adjust she would move on with her life. And she did.
Caroline still went to the lake and enjoyed her
grandchildren. She fished, mostly from the pier
unless their old friend, Sam Adams, sports editor of
the Montgomery Advertiser, came up to fish with her.
She worked the rose bed that Ralph had planted and
carefully nurtured after they moved to the little house,
and with the help of Auburn’s horticulture experts,
she was cutting his roses three decades later. She
was active in the Episcopal Church and in various
clubs. She enjoyed her sewing club even more. Every
April Caroline went with friends to the meeting of
the Alabama Historical Association, which Ralph
had helped to found. She joined the official Auburn
party for bowl games and special events and attended
Franklin Lectures and cultural and musical programs
on campus. She was appointed to the College of Liberal
Arts Humanities Council, and she stayed in touch
with alumni who had become close Draughon friends
Caroline, surprised at being tapped
by Mortar Board for honorary
membership.
Caroline straightens son
Ralph’s tie at Auburn’s
graduation in June 1958.
Caroline went down to the Auburn train station
to see her son off to be enlisted in the regular Navy
following his graduation from Auburn in June 1958.

27
Each spring Governor’s Day was celebrated with a special parade of
R.O.T.C. students on Max Morris Field. Governor and Mrs. Jim Folsom
(during 1954-1958 term ), President and Mrs. Ralph Draughon, Col. and
Mrs. Bill Whelchel, and Col. and Mrs. Bill Johnson review the parade.
At Auburn’s Homecoming President Draughon pins an Auburn mum
on Mrs. Patterson, while Caroline and Governor Patterson watch.
Caroline and Wernher Von Braun during his visit
to campus to speak about the space program.
Governor’s Day Luncheon, May 14, 1964, Margaret (Mrs. Robert)
Anderson, Captain F.T. Curtis, Caroline Draughon, Governor George C.
Wallace, President Ralph Draughon, and Lurleen (Mrs. George) Wallace.
Ralph and Caroline at the North Texas Auburn
Club, Dallas-Fort Worth, August 7, 1964.

28
through the years.
In May 1977, she helped Grace Jones, who had
served as president of Campus Club in 1972 and was for
many years the historian and publicity chairman, collect
Campus Club materials to be deposited in the University
Archives. In a long taped interview, she recalled her life
in Auburn as a faculty wife and president’s first lady
and recounted the founding of the Campus Club. For
many years Caroline joined friends Neil and Henrietta
Davis and Carolyn Tamblyn each August for a week at
Sunnyside Beach near Panama City, Florida. They would
eat at Captain Anderson’s, read novels, nap, walk on the
beach, and visit other Auburn friends—Mary Greene
and the Naftels who were vacationing in the area.
After time passed, the older bachelors and widowers
of Auburn, many close friends for years, began to escort
Caroline to functions, especially those at night. Ralph
Jr. was amused that when he came home to visit his
mother, “I would sit at home, the dull wallflower, while
she, the social butterfly, would go out on dates.” He
laughed, “And I never actually told her what time I
expected her to be home!” Caroline kept her sheer joy
of living and her sense of humor. Ralph recalled one
day in the “hippie” era when he and his mother drove
past some old apartments and he commented that
they looked rather “seedy.” His mother agreed, saying,
“They’ve really gone to pot.” Then quickly added, “In
more ways than one!”
Caroline went to Atlanta to visit Ann and Tom
and her grandchildren—Caroline, who is named for
her, Lillian, and Grady. She was there often when
the Cousins entertained, especially for their annual
Christmas Eve party; the grandchildren would marvel
at how their grandmother moved so easily among
strangers, making friends and always gathering a crowd
around her. They would say, “Look at Gommy work the
crowd!” Caroline taught them to ask good questions,
be genuinely interested in people, and remember their
names and where they are from. “Above all,” she told
her grandchildren, “learn to listen well.”
Caroline came to Auburn as a young bride, so young
that Mary Greene recalled that her “saddle oxfords and
sweaters made it hard to tell her from the students.”
Kate and Wilford Bailey, who knew her from professor’s
wife to president’s lady, observed she was the “same
Ralph and Caroline in front of the president’s home just before his retirement.

29
friendly, loving, caring person.” Her unpretentious
nature is illustrated by many stories, such as the one
Merle Flournoy shared. As a young staff wife, she was
shopping at the Franklin ten-cent store and saw a table
filled with 39-cent hose. Worrying that perhaps they
were “too cheap,” she moved on, but went back and
purchased several pair after she “met Mrs. Draughon
going out the door with a handful” of the bargain hose.
Merle reasoned that “if the hose were good enough for
the president’s wife, they were good enough for me.”
In the 1970s the Newcomers Club joined with the
Campus Club, and in 1994 the club began a series of
activities to honor Caroline Draughon and to make
a contribution to Auburn University. The first and a
continuing effort is to provide a scholarship to support
the purchase of books and supplies for a deserving AU
student each year. In 1995 in anticipation of the club’s
fiftieth anniversary, the Campus Club members began a
Caroline and Ralph enjoy fishing at Lake
Martin, July 4, 1960.
(left) Caroline and her granddaughter and
namesake, Caroline Cousins, enjoy a swim at
Lake Martin.
fund drive to endow a Caroline Draughon scholarship.
C. Cayce Scarborough, who came to A.P.I. as a
freshman the same year Caroline arrived and who
returned for a master’s degree and twice to join the
faculty, believes that “Miss Caroline was the same
encouraging person through the years,” the one who
“tied together generations of Auburn people.” Caroline
Draughon is most often described as “the true southern
lady,” and for more than six decades she provided the
perfect role model for Auburn’s young women. By 1996
five president’s wives had followed her. Each one had
her own personality and made her own contributions
to Auburn University, but none replaced Caroline in the
hearts of alumni and as grande dame of town and gown.

30
Ralph and Caroline welcome Auburn’s new
president Harry M. Philpott and his wife,
Polly, to the president’s home, May 24, 1965.
Draughon retired October 1.
Four former Auburn University president’s wives gather to welcome the wife of President-elect
William V. Muse in January 1992: left to right, Ann Martin, Caroline Draughon, Marlene
Muse, Kate Bailey, and Polly Philpott.
Caroline Draughon - 1994.

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Caroline Marshall Draughon

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