The case started quietly enough one October day in 1960 at Woodbourne Junior High School (now Chinquapin Middle School) in Northeast Baltimore.
William J. Murray, the 14-year-old son of Madalyn Murray, a psychiatric case worker, stood at the back of a classroom and pronounced morning prayers "ridiculous." He told school authorities that there was no way they could force him to pray.
That simple act led three years later to the Supreme Court's landmark ruling that school-sponsored prayer and Bible reading violated the First Amendment.
William was never punished by the school system. He went on to Poly, where he continued protesting. While his mother turned her attention to attempting to remove "under God" from the Pledge of Allegiance, William was shunned by many of his fellow students and harassed by others.
"I walked out of the classroom at City [College] in support of Bill, and he and I later tried to put out a newsletter," said Marc Steiner, now a talk-show host for WJHU-FM, the Johns Hopkins public radio station. "Some of the students took offense and beat the stuffing out of us."
Mrs. Murray, later Madalyn Murray O'Hair, became the planet's best-known atheist. The woman who told The Sun in 1960 that her favorite activities were "thinking and beer drinking" received so many letters at her Northwood home that the post office complained.
Her neighbors went to court to stop the midnight barking of her dogs, Marx and Engels. That complaint became moot in 1964, however, when the Murrays sought asylum in Hawaii. Mrs. Murray said she "feared for my life" in Baltimore.
She never returned here to live, but she left behind a record of feisty nonconformity that perhaps no one has equaled.
At 75, Mrs. O'Hair works out of the offices of American Atheists Inc., in Austin, Texas. Bill Murray, now 48, is an evangelist based in Coppell, Texas. The two haven't spoken for years, though Mr. Murray says he sends his mother birthday cards and prays for her.
"My mother's happy with America, because America has become what she wants it to be: a godless nation," he said the other night on national television.
But Mrs. O'Hair says she doesn't have time to spar with her son. With President Clinton "pandering to the religious right," she and her followers say they're busy shoring up the dikes that keep religion out of public schools and other public institutions.
The atheists have a wide agenda. They're working to keep public money out of church schools and to stop textbook publishers from giving credence to "creation science," the biblical account of creation. Then there's the possibility that the state of Michigan will provide funds for a "charter school" organized by a group of Christian home educators.
Recently, Mrs. O'Hair and the two children who are still at her side, Jon Garth Murray, 40, and Robin Murray-O'Hair, 29, have decided to shift their emphasis from legal activity to a direct appeal to the American people.
"After 12 years of Bush and Reagan, litigation is no longer a practical consideration," says Robin Murray-O'Hair. "The federal courts are packed against us."
So this Thursday, American Atheists will launch a national campaign, including appeals to the media, schools and legislatures. Among other activities, Jon Murray suggests Americans celebrate a "thoroughly secular solstice" Dec. 21. "Take the day off, relax, eat, drink and be merry. Decorate your solstice tree," he says.
"We're going to roll up our sleeves and get involved," says Ms. Murray-O'Hair. "Look, if you have a 12-year-old mother on crack and a father not knowing who she is, do you really think she's going to be prevented from problems by being prayed at for 30 seconds?"
Grades by students
The state Education Department yesterday released its annual "report card" on Maryland schools. The report tells you just about anything you might want to know about a school -- except how the students themselves feel about it.
Thursday, we asked four Anne Arundel County high school seniors to give a grade to the education they've received and comment on some aspect of it.
Alveta Fugh, 17, Meade High School: C+. Miss Fugh criticizes the county system's suspension policies. Being sent home for an infraction, she says, "is a pleasure to a lot of students. They can sleep in, watch TV."
Linda Hayslett, 17, Severna Park High School: B. "We need in-school suspension, like Meade has. For some, getting suspended is like a vacation. What's the punishment in that?"
Natoyia Johnson-Gulley, 17, Meade High School: B-. Meade, serving a military base, has students from all over the world. "At a school like that, there should be more tolerance, but there isn't. What there is is ignorance about people, about each other."
Melody Wihler, 17, Arundel High School: C-. "Some people are just smart, but they're not held up to higher standards. They could go home during the day and get an A-."
Appropriate notice
Notice posted last Friday in an elevator at the state Department of Education building on West Baltimore Street:
"MISASSIGNMENT TASK FORCE MEETING MOVED TO 7TH-FLOOR BOARD ROOM"