Calvin Joe Murray

Calvin Joe Murray was born August 17, 1941, and went to visit our Savior May 4, 2026. Calvin was preceded in death by his parents, Pauline Miller Murray and JV Murray, his brother, Harold and wife Gwendolyn Murray. Also preceding were his mother and father-in-law, Lois “Grandmother” and WC “Punk” Foshee, and one grandchild.

Calvin is survived by his three children and their spouses: Nett and Terry Burns, Lisa and Walter Wheless, and Randy and Rhonda Murray; brother Curtis Murray and wife Nancy. Through his children, he was blessed with a slew of grandchildren, great grandchildren, and is even expecting a great great grandchild this year. The family would also like to acknowledge the host of extended family and friends that are grieving with us. To Calvin, we are all family.

Perhaps most importantly surviving Calvin is his wife of 67 years, Evelyn “Mawmaw” Murray. The two were wed on August 18, 1958. To quote Mawmaw, “that’s a long time for one man to live in paradise!” And paradise it was; together, the couple set a grand example to their children and grandchildren of what it looks like to stand together, support one another, and love even in the hardest of times–and what a legacy they have created.

If you knew Calvin, “CJ,” “Mr. Murray,” or, most lovingly “PawPaw,” you know he had many interests, jobs, and hobbies. He was a bricklayer as a young man, and never gave up the talented trade, even helping Randy brick the fireplace in his new home in 2021. Many came to know Mr. Murray on the school bus, the ballpark, or on the school bus to a ballpark. He spent many years helping Stanley High School in more ways than driving a bus, and many people experienced the great influence of his time.

Calvin’s next love was in the hayfield with the cattle, then onto the sale barn with them. He worked long hard days and taught many in our community how to take hard work, value, and dedication from the hayfield into their adult lives. He was loyal to his work, and loyal to his friends and family.

In recent years, you could find him in his chair with his coffee, somehow still knowing all the comings and goings of the Stanley community. You always knew where you stood with CJ, and if you wanted to know why, all you had to do was stop by and have a conversation–the door was always open. You’d leave with a full heart and more wisdom than you came with.

Sometimes when people leave us, the hole they leave is vast. Remember, this hole he left us is full of love, wisdom, and the memories to get us through the rest of our days.