Heritage Area Resident Roy Goddard Turns 102

Born on the Fourth of July in 1923, Roy Goddard’s life accomplishments include a seventy-plus-year marriage and serving as a paratrooper during WWII.

The Fourth of July isn’t just the birth of the United States, it’s also the birthday of a special Heritage Area resident: Roy Goddard, who turned 102 this past Independence Day. Goddard was born in the house he currently lives in on South Goddard Road (yes, that’s even his family name on the road), where he’s lived his entire life.

“When I was a kid, we didn’t know what shoes was,” Goddard said with a little smile about what life was like back in the 1920s and ’30s. “I went barefoot all the time. I’d go to school barefooted. Go everywhere barefooted. Everything was in the rough.”

A Country Boy

Goddard attended the historic Klondike School, a two-room schoolhouse that used to stand on S. Goddard road just east of the Klondike/Goddard crossroads and Murphey Candler Elementary. Although rural and even more remote from Atlanta a century ago, this region just south of Arabia Mountain, known as the Klondike Corridor, has long had community, and the Goddards have been at the center of it.

In the early 20th Century, the Goddard family were part-owners of the Leftwich-Goddard & Co. Klondike Ginnery. The Ginnery (misspelt “Gennery” in the photo below) was where loads of cotton picked by sharecroppers from local farms was unloaded and the seeds removed or “ginned.” This involved an advanced system of steam-engine suction that vacuumed up bales of cotton straight from the wagons into the ginnery. There was an elevated trough that took the cotton seed from the gin (on the left) to the seed house (smaller building on the right). If local farmers wanted to keep their seed rather than sell it, the trough could be opened to empty directly into a wagon below (where the mules are pictured).

After Mr. Leftwich exited the business, the ginnery and seed house were solely owned and operated by Roy Goddard’s father George. The small seed house was still standing until two years ago when, after deteriorating for years, it finally collapsed. The remains are still visible through the weeds. In the latter half of the 20th century, after the Ginnery closed down, the Goddards also owned a gas station and grocery at the historic Oak Grove Junction store, still standing today at the intersection of S. Goddard and Klondike Roads.

Life was certainly slower back then. Growing up, one of Roy’s favorite activities was going down to the local swimming hole at Honey Creek after a big rain. One day, Roy met a girl from the other side of the creek named Helen Moon. “She jump saddled my neck,” recalled Goddard. “And we stayed friends after meeting.”

Before long, the two were a couple of country lovebirds, getting married on November 15, 1941, just weeks before the United States’ entry into WWII. But on the day of their nuptials, Roy was working a shift at Colonial Stores in Little Five Points, and his boss wouldn’t let him leave to get married! By time time Roy had driven home, picked up his parents and made it to Helen’s house down the road, he was late to his own wedding day. So, instead of marrying at a church in Conyers (as originally planned), the pair tied the knot right there at Helen’s parent’s house.

Separated By War

WWII soon intervened in the young couple’s lives. Roy was drafted into the Army, inducted on July 7, 1944 at Fort Bragg, NC, and served a private first-class in the 507th Parachute Infantry. This is the same legendary troop that participated in D Day, dropping across enemy lines in Normandy, and Operation Varsity, an airborne crossing of the Rhine River. Goddard saw combat as a rifleman and participated in the March to Berlin.

He also brought along a new camera that he was excited to use. In Europe, Goddard took dozens of stunning photos, detailing his experience as well as the devastation and chaos of the War. Goddard did not mince words about how hard soldiering was then. “That was the worst time of my life,” he said. “I spent a lot of time trying to get out of the Army.”

Things got a little easier for Goddard after the War ended in September 1945, and the 17th Airborne was folded into the 82nd Airborne (another legendary division that participated in D Day). It was while serving his last year in the 82nd Airborne that Goddard got assigned as part of Eisenhower’s Guard in Berlin. However, Goddard never met the General and future President  because he wasn’t tall enough to be on actual guard duty (which had a six-foot height requirement). “So what I did was drive a truck around and lots of odds and ends and had a good time,” recalled Goddard. “I did a lot of walking and carrying on and looking at Berlin. I went all over the four [military] zones of Berlin back then.” 

Getting the rare opportunity to visit all of Berlin, even the Soviet section, Goddard documented the toll repeated Allied bombings had taken on the city.

Return Home

Upon discharge, Goddard returned home to South Goddard Road in unincorporated Lithonia, back with his wife Helen in the shadow of Arabia Mountain—back to a simpler, country life away from all the noise and horrors of the war. The Goddards had 4 children and stayed together 75 years, until Helen’s passing in 2017 at the age of 93. “I thought I’d die before my wife, but it didn’t work out that way,” said Roy with a note of sadness in his voice. “I don’t question God for letting me live, but I don’t understand why I’m living so long.”

These days, Roy passes his time with his daughter and caretaker Beverly at the home where’s he’s spent his whole life. He still gets around mostly on his own with a cane and rides an ATV now, instead of a car, when when he needs to get out. As for a secret to his longevity, Goddard laughs and says it’s all a secret to him as well. “I never been sick and [I stay] very active,” he said. “But there’s never been a Goddard who lived as long as me.”

*All photos, except of the Leftwich-Goddard Ginnery, are courtesy of Roy Goddard.