Thunderstorms rumbled through the Midlands April 1 around 4 a.m. and great sheets of rain cleansed the earth. The heavens send rains to wash away the footprints of special people once they cross the great divide, and we lost an unforgettable man around 1 a.m. Samuel Steven Morton, of Columbia, a “renaissance man,” said his loving wife, Myra, left us.
Sam, as we knew him, was a man of many talents and he touched all who crossed his path. If you called this man your friend, you were blessed mightily. If you needed a good laugh to banish worries, you had no worries in the presence of this gentle giant.
Myra is right. He was a renaissance man. Consider the paths life took Sam Morton down … sheriff’s deputy, public relations writer at USC’s Medical School, corporate communications writer at Policy Management Systems Corporation and the USC School of Medicine where he won Best of Show Addys for his work. Add the roles of wrestler, freelance writer, novelist, father, and husband … the list goes on as you will see. Awards are nice but being remembered for all the right things is better.
We will remember Sam forever. Sam was one of those people who enter a room and immediately brighten it. He was a people person and people loved to be in his presence. He filled a room with energy. To get to the point: he was fun to be around. And he had the soul of an artist. If Sam loved anything even remotely approaching his great love for his wife and children, it was his love for the written word. Words brought Sam and me together, fastening us as glue binds a book, forever friends.
“I want to write,” said this burly, beaming fellow as he took his seat in a writing workshop I held at Midlands Tech’s Harbison Campus many years ago. And write he did. A 1985 graduate of the Citadel, he earned a BA in English there and a Masters in English from James Madison University. He put them to good use. He wrote four novels and co-authored six anthologies.
He often told others in my presence that I was his mentor and when he did pride surged through me like wind off a white-capping lake, but I did nothing special. Writers are born, not made, and Sam Morton came into this world in Rock Hill April 29, 1963 with “the gift.” He wrote magazine features and brought his brand of word magic to all things he touched.
Wit and zest. That’s what Sam brought to any piece of writing. Consider this excerpt from his bio. “His past occupations include a 12-year stint as a robbery/homicide detective for the Richland County Sheriff’s Department in Columbia, SC, a ten-year career as a professional wrestler, and one long week as the blade changer on the potato cutting machine at the Frito Lay plant in Charlotte, NC.” One long week … see what I mean? We feel his pain.
“Sunshine,” Sam’s personal blog, embraced those things dear to him. In his own words, “Sunshine contains reflections on the things I know best: writing, wrestling, policing, and life in general with a wife, two kids, and a dog.”
Sam was a family man, pre-deceased by his parents, Harry Morton and Dorothy Morton. He married Myra Frailey Morton November 29, 1986, and they have two beautiful children, Samuel Alexander “Alexey” and Sasha Nicholayvna “Nikki.” He has a brother, Michael R. Morton, and sister, Cathy M. Dawkins. He also left behind his mother-in-law, Sylvia Frailey, sister-in-law, Marnie and two brothers-in-law, David and Dean Frailey and many other beloved family members. To them and to all his friends, Sam was a gentle giant beloved by many. A big old’ cuddly teddy bear said a friend and one-time colleague.
More Renaissance man documentation. He took great pride in being a “Dance Dad” at Timmerman School. He performed as King Neptune in The Little Mermaid. Daughter Nikki was “the apple of his eye” and Alexey “the pride of his heart.” He loved Myra, his wife, and had known her since high school. And then the years began to accumulate bringing joys and, in time, health issues.
Early April 1 Sam’s broken heart broke hearts across the land. His friends had watched his courageous battle against diabetes and heart disease for twelve years and had seen him prevail every time despite the gravest of situations. Sammy was the comeback kid, always overcoming the odds. He spoiled us with his determination. We had come to expect him to overcome anything, but now he has taken leave of us and we are staggered by his death.
I get the feeling God is setting up a South Carolina writer’s group up there. I see Sam sitting alongside Pat Conroy, his friend and fellow Citadel graduate, and no doubt talking with the columnist, the late Ken Burger, whose service last fall was held ironically at the Citadel’s Summerall Chapel. Imagine what this author’s group will write.
You, the reader, taking in these words, I don’t know if you knew Sam like I did, but the following words come to mind when I think of him. Colleague, co-author, comedian, Citadel man, caring, compassionate, charmer, and clever. All Cs it so happens. But you can be sure that when it came to his life and how he lived it, he scored As. He was a gentleman and a scholar.
And musician. Myra says he played the bass drum in the Citadel band. “He was easily spotted because he was the tallest fellow in the band.” He stood tall in other ways, too, like the way we judge character and a person’s appetite for life itself.
He must have made a million friends for no matter where he went, he ran into a friend. Just about everybody knew this man who could take down a bad guy wrestler, as the Patriot, and perform a comedic big jump as a ballet dancer for his kids.
He lived life to the fullest. We know he hated to let go. Oh how we will miss this man who came out of the Upstate. We all fell in love with him and his ways.
When many a lesser man would have thrown in the towel, you fought the good battle, my friend. Rest in peace dear beloved Sam, mighty warrior. We’ll not see the likes of you again.
The writer, James Salter, wrote, “Life passes into pages if it passes into anything.” Sam, you left us a family and pages too. You left a long wake and much for us to remember and treasure. Each of us is better for having known you.
-Written by Tom Poland per Sam Morton’s wishes
A memorial service for Mr. Morton will be held 11 o’clock, Wednesday, April 6th, at Washington Street United Methodist Church, 1401 Washington Street, with The Rev. Dr. William R. Childs officiating. The family will receive friends Tuesday evening from 5 until 7 o’clock at Shives Funeral Home, Trenholm Road Chapel, 7600 Trenholm Road Ext.
In lieu of flowers, the family asks that donations be made in memory of Samuel S. Morton, Citadel Class of 1985, to The Citadel Foundation, 171 Moultrie Street, Charleston, SC 29409 or online at www.foundation.citadel.edu where a scholarship will be established in his honor.
Memories and condolences may be shared at ShivesFuneralHome.com.
Posted in: The State
Posted on: 2016-04-04
Link to original obituary: http://www.legacy.com/obituaries/heraldonline/obituary.aspx?n=samuel-steven-morton&pid=179495506&fhid=5678#sthash.fMSVbLzD.dpuf