My name is Doctor Henry Morgan and I was born September 19, 1779. When you have lived as long as I have you tend to forget faces as times pass you by, but some people just seem to refuse to leave or die. I first met the two men during my time serving in WWI in 1915; being a field medic I was coming over to assist the smaller man who I saw get hit by several pieces of shrapnel. What startled me most at first were the three foot long bones protruding from his knuckles, that is until I noticed what was happening with his wounds.
Imagine my surprise when the metal started to be pushed from his body and the wounds healed before my very eyes. For the first time I thought that maybe someone had the same problem that I did and that gave me some hope, for companionship though the changing times if nothing else. I moved him out of further danger and we had some time to talk after he threatened me not to talk. I did not tell him of my curse at the time but I was able to question him on who and what he was in hope of possibly finding a cure for myself.
The man I had come to help was named James ‘Logan’ Howlett, and as fate would have it this was not the last time I would meet this man or others at all like him. He mentioned that he was born in Alberta, Canada and was born some time in 1888. He had accelerated healing and the bone weapons I had already seen, along with superior senses especially in sight, smell and hearing. He had no name for what he was but only mentioned that the changes had come about when he was a young adolescent. He was often ill as a child and that he changed as he reached puberty, he was not more specific but I was later able to theorize that his friend may have come by his abilities in a manner similar to James.
His friend, used very loosely with the way they argued, Victor Creed when I met him was not a pleasant person at all to be around. He appeared to only truly care for his partner in combat and himself, no one else ever seemed to enter into the equation. As soon as they had my vow of silence they left to continue fighting. I lost track of them for the rest of the war and was not looking for either when I found James in WWII. When he saw me his shock at seeing me looking just the same as when we parted was only tempered by the need to help the young man he had just brought in from the camps who need a doctor’s help. All we got out of him while he was conscious was that his name was Erik and he thanked Logan for rescuing him from his cell.
After assisting for several hours in triage Logan and I had some time to go over my condition. Having someone finally know and accept me as not crazy was an immense weight off my shoulders. I learned more about my new friend his past loves, his issues with authority as well as so much more. I was most astounded to learn that he was fluent in many languages including English, Arabic, Japanese, Russian, Chinese, Cheyenne, Lakota, and Spanish; he has some knowledge of French, German, Thai, Vietnamese, Farsi and Portuguese. Quite an accomplishment for someone born on hundred years after myself.
That was the last I saw of Logan until the Cold War had come along. It was quite by chance that I ran into him at all. Abraham, my adopted son, Abigail and I were leaving a restaurant down town when we passed a bar. Two young men had just left and to my surprise Logan was next out that door. I managed to catch his attention and introduced him to my family while updating him on what had been going on with my curse. I had experienced a number of rather creative deaths and some were quite unique.
He informed me of what had happened to him being shipped to the orient, being captured and experiencing the atomic bomb dropping so very close to him. His time in Vietnam and then finally his break from the team of mutants Stryker and Sabertooth had put together when he could not stomach killing a small village for some rocks.
I did not see James again for many years but I keep myself aware of what was going on in the mutant community and what the x-gene was. I tested myself hoping that maybe I was an early mutant but my test results were inconclusive. I was able to help many young confused children who had developed mutations to find safe havens ones such as the Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters, always under a false name so no one would connect me to the many others in the past. The next I know I have been contacted by Charles Xavier who would like to know about the man helping all these children. One of them had let slip my name and location to him asking if I was coming to visit soon. I took leave form the New York Medical Examines office for a ‘holiday’, at least Abe will no longer be able to say I never used the days.
Upon arriving at the school I was greeted by a lovely woman with red hair that introduced herself as Jean Grey who informed me she was telekinetic and had telepathic abilities. As I walked behind her I looked around watching the various classes going on. Some appeared just the same as anywhere else, but others had the students learning to control and use each of their unique abilities. We walked right up to Professor Xavier’s office and I was greeted by not only a new face but an old one as well.
“James I was wondering where you were at these days! How have you been?”
“Who are you bub? And who is James? My name is Logan.”
I was stunned how could he not remember me! Looking to the other man in the room I asked him what was going on.
“Mr. Logan has amnesia he does not remember anything of himself before about ten years ago. How do you know him Mr. Morgan?”
I looked at the man I had known for almost one hundred years, one I considered a friend, and then turned to Charles and began my tale and ending with the tale of James ‘Logan’ Howlett.