This interview was conducted on behalf of Charleston County as part of the project: Stories from Historic African American Communities: A Journey to Equal Education, W. Gresham Meggett High School, James Island, SC. Charleston County was awarded a grant from the Department of Interior and National Park Service (NPS) in 2018 to conduct this oral history project aimed to provide insight into the lives of African American students during desegregation. The project is structured by the NPS research framework: Civil Rights in America: A Framework for Identifying Significant Sites (2002, rev. 2008).
This interview was conducted on March 21, 2019, at St. James Presbyterian Church, James Island, Charleston County, South Carolina. Mary Beth Reed (New South Associates) was the interviewer; Jenna Tran (New South Associates) was the technical assistant.
I am very happy to meet you and I’m very pleased that you reached out to us. The first thing in this interview is to really kind of get your background to find out where you came from, your education, you know, where you grew up, before we understand how you landed here. So could you tell me a little bit about your background?
Terry Fox: Sure. I’m an only child, born in 1945 in Lenoir, North Carolina, which at that time was a big furniture manufacturing center. It’s near Hickory. You don’t know where Lenoir is even?
MBR: Not Lenoir, but Hickory, I do.
TF: I’m like, okay. Well, you’ve never heard of Hudson then I’m sure. Hudson was my hometown. It was a town of about 1500 people. There were about 140 students in my high school graduating class. And it drew from surrounding areas, but it was all white. Graduated from high school in 1963. Don’t do the math, okay?
So I was a very much cared-for child. I was an only child, and my parents, I don’t think they waited intentionally. I never asked the questions, but I think that they probably tried to get pregnant, as we say in the current parlance, it didn’t work, and then it did and this glorious animal came to them. But, I mean, I had wonderful parents. It was the Ozzie and Harriet era, you know, everything was very innocent, very pure. Thought that way anyway, to me in small-town North Carolina.
JT: What were their names?
TF: My parents?
MBR: Yes, your parents’ names.
TF: Earl Clarence Fox and Dorothy Roberson Fox. He was a barber. She was a housewife as they said. He was the second-generation barber in his family. My grandfather had barbered in this little nowhere town. And then my dad went away to college. Our small town is about 12 to 14 miles from Hickory where Lenoir-Rhyne College still is, was then. And he schlepped over there and got a degree in history, came back and began to barber, and barbered for the rest of his life. I did not have at all a privileged upbringing, but I had a very loving and healthful one from my perspective.
As I believe I mentioned, there were no black students in my high school. There were no black individuals who lived in my direct community. I never saw black people. And my father’s shop was in Lenoir, which was a somewhat larger town six miles away, big furniture manufacturing center then. And I know that there were black families who lived there, but I didn’t see them. They had their own separate school, which was—I didn’t realize the irony of it until later, but it was called Freedmen’s. I imagine many of the schools of that era were, but that didn’t resonate with me at all. I had no idea what that was about. I thought it was Mr. Freedmen’s school or something. You know, I just didn’t have that—it’s a pretty innocent time. And I’m still a little bit naïve for someone of my longevity shall we say.
So I had a good time in high school, enjoyed, you know, fairly typical high school, dated, did all those things. Then in 1963, I graduated, went to UNC in Chapel Hill and had an incredible four years. It was, you know, once again, a most formative time in my life. You know, I still have—very grateful for that experience, both in the degree to which it broadened my worldviews and the things it taught me, not only in terms of textbooks, but the way to be in the world.
For example, I was, my first year, placed in a suite in a residence hall with seven other freshmen. Eight of us, two per room. And as I remember, there might have been two Southerners out of the eight, but most of them were Yankees. And you know how terrible that can be. And when I, in speaking to one of my suitemates, said, “Well, I’m going to go take a shower now,” they trained me. They broke me very quickly. I no longer said shower. I’m not going to take a shower. So I learned how to enunciate and keep my Yankee pals happy. I mean, UNC was a great melting pot geographically, not racially at that point. Am I over-talking?
MBR: No. You’re doing beautifully.
TF: Okay. Well. So great four years in Chapel Hill, had—I’ve always been drawn towards creative, edgy enterprises. You know, there’s something a little weird we can get into, let’s get into it. And I did some of that at UNC and just had a great time. My GPA suffered, but hey, what the hell. I got out. Then I began to apply to graduate schools because I didn’t know what the hell else to do. I also took the law boards. And I’m thinking, oh, hell, I can be an attorney. Did well enough on the law boards to be accepted into UNC Law School, but my GPA was too low. That was a similar situation to a number of the graduate schools I applied to. And unfortunately, the best grad school I could get into was University of South Carolina. Mmm, yeah.
I’m sure it’s a fine school, but for me, after being in Chapel Hill, it was hellish. Hated, hated Columbia. Still hate Columbia. Just it was an awful year. Now I’m going to be entirely frank here. One of the big issues at that point was that I was struggling with my sexuality. And that started when I was young, but it really came to a critical point when I was in grad school in Columbia when I was sharing an apartment with another student, a guy I’d known casually. He was Catholic, she was Jewish, and I was alone with both of them. So it was like, what do we do here? And we had a wonderful time, and they were—they understood what I was going through but they—and they were very supportive, wonderfully supportive.
But in my dissatisfaction with life in Columbia and having been to Charleston a number of times—My roommate in that apartment was from Charleston. I visited here a number of times over the years; couple of times with my parents, once as a high school senior, and then I came home a number of times with my roommate from up there. So I’d always been sort of intrigued by the mystery of the city and the architectural grandeur, even though it was pretty faded back then, the good old days. So I made—just made the call I was going to move to Charleston.
Concurrent with that, you might think about, hmm, what was going on in the US politics, the international scene in particular? And Terry was much too pretty for bullet holes. So, you know, I, you know, I—sometimes, you know, I could have had bone spurs like someone prominent in our media these days. I just—I could not get my head around the possibility of going into the armed forces and going to Vietnam. All that was going on kind of the same time simultaneously with me and—so I moved to Charleston. My parents, as I mentioned, were devoted to their pretty little boy. That was a long time ago. But I managed to get a job and even though I had fairly high lottery numbers—I don’t know if you remember all that.
MBR: Yes, my brothers—
TF: The draft lottery and all that.
MBR: …were at that point, yes.
TF: But I had—did I have numbers or low numbers? Is it low numbers that were good? I think the low numbers were—I must have had low numbers.
MBR: Yes.
TF: I couldn’t remember. I try to block it out. So I’ve always had the sense, although we never actually—I mean, my father may have alluded to it, but he knew the people—He was a wonderful man, very gentle and kind and well-loved in the community. And people had a lot of respect for him because the way he was in his life. And he knew the people who ran the draft board in Caldwell County, North Carolina. And I believe that they knew that the Foxes’ little boy didn’t need to go off to be shot at. So that—I mean, it continued to change because, you know, each year I think I’d have to go back. I’d get another number—
MBR: Right. You have to kind of re-up number.
TF: …the lottery or go and—You know, it’s crazy time. So that was the way I got to Charleston. One thing that I failed to mention a few moments ago is—I think I alluded to it, but UNC, although it was then, in my perception certainly and I think the perception of many people who were there, a very liberal institution. And, you know, a fine institution academically, but there was—there were virtually no black students at UNC when I was there. I was in an 800-man dorm and I remember three, four, five black guys in my dorm. And, you know, with my background having been so limited in racial integration, I didn’t think anything about it. So, you know, just was the way it was, the way it has always been, which is, you know, I guess, a terribly narrow view. But it’s—I was 22 or 23 at the time. You know this has been 50 years ago.
MBR: I know.
TF: That’s crazy to think about.
MBR: I know.
TF: Crazy to think about. So I moved to Charleston and found a great little house downtown on Smith Street. That may not mean anything to you—
MBR: No.
TF: …but it’s right in the heart of the historic district just north of Calhoun, $65 a month— we’ll get back to that—and settled down into a coming-out process. And I’ve done it. You know, over 50 years you better hope so, hadn’t we? And a new area of work. And to be once again, totally honest, I never wanted to teach. I had teachers in my family. My aunt was a longtime schoolteacher. Several others members of the extended family were educators. I never wanted to do it. But it was a job that I found and it allowed me to do the other things in my life that were important at that point. So Gresham—W. Gresham Meggett.
MBR: Was that the job that—
TF: Yeah. That was my first real-world job. And just as a footnote, in driving over here—I’m over on Johns Island, which you may not know where that is.
MBR: No, I do. I came through right—
TF: It’s that way, if you will. And I was coming down one of the roads that led directly to Grimball and I thought, what the hell, I’ve got a few minutes. So I just drove down and looked at the school again. You know, still being used for—not sure exactly what the purposes are at this point, but it’s just—
MBR: Private school.
TF: It’s always sweet to see it. So that brings us to W. Gresham Meggett.
MBR: It does. Now, did you see the job listed somewhere, or—I mean, how did you apply for that job?
TF: It must have just been through—Things were much more simple back then.
MBR: That’s what—it probably was.
TF: You know, I’d probably just say, “Hey, got a job?” “Yeah. Come on, honkey.” And once again, I had really—and I’m a little ashamed of—not ashamed—surprised at myself about some of this lack of awareness. I don’t even know that I had an understanding at the time of the fact that the schools were segregated.
MBR: That’s what I was going to ask you. [Indistinct] [00:16:40] prepare you or is it you’re just going to a school? You know what I mean?
TF: I don’t remember much about it.
MBR: Be there at a certain time and—
TF: Hm-hmm [affirmative]. Oh, yeah, basic [indistinct] [00:16:47], “This is your job. You’re teaching English,” which was my major at UNC.
MBR: Okay.
TF: Very useful.
MBR: Don’t go there.
TF: It’s allowed me to do a lot of random stuff over the years, but—so…
MBR: And you were on Smith Street, right?
TF: Hm-hmm [affirmative].
MBR: So you’re a Charleston resident?
TF: Hm-hmm [affirmative].
MBR: What was the game plan? How were you going to get to your job? I mean, was it on James Island? I mean, you just—
TF: I had a car.
MBR: You would commute—Okay.
TF: Yeah. I mean, I drove. And now that I—You know, from that time, it was kind of a schlepp, but I didn’t really think of it that way.
MBR: That’s what I’m thinking, it was a little bit—Yeah.
TF: Just something I got up in the morning and did. I mean, there was no traffic back then. I mean, I don’t know—I have no idea how long it took me to get out there, but it was—the whole—You probably came down Folly Road—
MBR: Sure. Hm-hmm [affirmative].
TF: …to get here. Well, Folly Road was—not a wasteland, but not—
MBR: At all developed.
TF: …in no way close to as developed as it is now.
MBR: Right.
TF: And the road we call the James Island Connector would not have been there, so I would have had to—This probably doesn’t mean much to you, but I had to—You know, it’s probably a significant loop around off the peninsula to come to Folly Road all the way out—
MBR: To come, then come out here.
TF: …to Grimball. But didn’t think about it. And I’d come out in the evenings for PTA meetings and basketball games and whatever else felt right to do.
MBR: So 1969.
TF: 1968 I started.
MBR: 1968 you started.
TF: Wait a minute. Is that right? Yeah.
MBR: Okay. So did you teach at Meggett two years?
TF: One year.
MBR: One year. Okay, ’68.
TF: And as I remember—
MBR: The school year, ’68, ’69, right?
TF: …we didn’t know they were going to close the school—
MBR: Oh, okay.
TF: …until quite late in the year. And I don’t have any awareness of the powers that came into play at—you know, disperse all the students from Meggett to the other schools, or even really fully where they went at that point.
MBR: Well, were you a surprise when you walked in? How did it work?
TF: To the school?
MBR: To the school. Did you meet the principal first, and who was the principal at that point in time?
TF: Alfonso Evans.
MBR: Okay.
TF: Do you want photo illustrations?
MBR: We have this one—
TF: Oh, do you?
MBR: …but I’m going to look at it when you’re done. I’ve never seen it in real life. I’ve only seen photocopies.
TF: Okay. Oh, you already have a photocopy.
MBR: So—
TF: Because I was going to suggest that—
MBR: We may if it look—Can I take a look?
TF: Oh, of course.
MBR: Alfonso Evans was the principal? So when you reported at Meggett, did you report to him, I mean, and—
TF: Yes, I remember. And I didn’t like him very much.
MBR: Oh.
TF: He was a little pompous and off-putting and—Had nothing to do with race. He just—I thought he was kind of a “doof.” That continued through most of my year there. Not that it tainted my interaction with him, but, you know, all the other—there were—and I counted last night. There were five other white instructors that year—
MBR: Okay.
TF: …and perhaps a sixth who’s not in the yearbook, and I can’t quite figure out why she was not. But there were five white instructors who came for the first time. One of them, a guy—In my dorm at UNC I befriended a fellow from Charleston who, as things evolved, also turned out to be gay all these years later. But he was—after he graduated, he came to the—he was trying to get into medical school and didn’t make it in his first application. So he went back for the year after our graduation and took some additional classes at [indistinct] [00:21:04] University to bolster his chances of getting in.
And then the year after that—I don’t know when he got accepted, but the year after that, I said, “Hey, we’ve got a job out here at Gresham Meggett. You want to come apply?” So he came out here and taught science with us. So we had two UNC—two white UNC grads on the faculty. And he had come from a private Catholic school of education here in Charleston. So I don’t know if the—I doubt that even the parochial schools would have been any more integrated—
MBR: At that point.
TF: …at that point.
MBR: Yeah.
TF: Because now, I mean, they are certainly and have been for years, but—So I’m sure it was thought-provoking for him also.
MBR: Well, you said—you mentioned that it was transformative for you. Can I ask you to unpack that? What do you mean? How was it transformative? Was it time in your life or teaching—Maybe you were an educator underneath all that?
TF: No.
MBR: No?
TF: Still am not.
MBR: Still not. Then—
TF: I’ve been in education-related roles.
MBR: Fields, okay.
TF: …for many occasions through what career I’ve had, but I’m not a teacher.
MBR: I see.
TF: I’m not good at it. I don’t enjoy it, in a classroom setting. A lot of what I did starting as a teacher morphed into working with—first kids with emotional disabilities, and then I worked in a in-patient psych hospital for 10 years. And then I worked for two different small colleges here as administrator. So I’ve always enjoyed the interaction with younger people and I still do. And I think it keeps me a little more vital than I might otherwise be. But I’m not—I have never been a good teacher. I’m not—
MBR: All right. Well, how did—
TF: Maybe that’s in my head, but—
MBR: Yeah. I was just thinking the same thing. I don’t know what the students would say. What was it like teaching at W. Gresham Meggett? It was an all-black school at that point in time.
TF: Hm-hmm [affirmative], not a single—
MBR: So only the teachers—
TF: …white student.
MBR: …would be five out of—I don’t know how large the faculty would have been.
TF: I would say 25 to 30.
MBR: Okay. So having five or six white faculty members was a significant number.
TF: Hm-hmm [affirmative].
MBR: Were the kids accepting? Can you talk a little bit about your welcome and how that worked?
TF: You know, I did feel welcomed and accepted, and I think I was as much an exotic animal to them as they were to me. It was new for both sides of us. I looked through the yearbook last night for the first time in several years, and it’s like, I could immediately recognize some of the sweet faces that—of the people who were—of the students who were most sweetly responsive. I mean, there were some of them that were just so warm and charming and delightful. And I see them now 50 years later and I think, oh, I love her. Haven’t seen her, of course, but, you know, really love that young person.
Couple of them—I’ll show you the pictures a little later—who were just dear. I mean, really, we had such connection. One male and one female student that I had just a great rapport with each of them. And others, too, but these two in particular. There was one occasion, and only one that I can remember, in which I was threatened. There were, as I remember, about—I was in my classroom, and about four male students came in and sort of got me in a corner somewhat threateningly. And then another male student came in and say, “Hey, you guys back off. Get out of here.” And they listened to him. I don’t know what their intention really was, but—I don’t necessarily frighten easily, but it didn’t feel right. So, you know, I was grateful for that reprieve.
MBR: Right.
TF: The classrooms were—the class size was, I don’t know, 25 to 30 students, you know, not small. I remember—I look around at how clean and well maintained this church is, and the school is the same. I mean, the whole machine—They were proud of their school. And the instructors, many of them had master’s degrees. Almost, as you would imagine, almost all their undergraduate degrees were from all-black schools. And many of their advanced degrees were from all-black schools. But there were a few went outside that or who’d gotten additional education up north. So it was quite a varied group of folks.
We all dressed for work. The men wore jackets and ties. I don’t know if I wore a tie, a jacket every day, but—I’m jabbering. But I just remember everyone being dressed up. And there was a great deal of—my sense was—and I’ve thought about this a good bit in the lead-up to meeting with you—that at that point in time, being an educator was a somewhat prestigious job for an African-American, an educated African-American person. Perhaps one of the few jobs for an educated black person here. I don’t know about elsewhere, but here. You know, you could go to college, get a master’s degree, and come back and teach and be a person in the community at that time—I’m just speaking of my perceptions—who were—who would be respected, because at that point in time, teachers didn’t take any guff. They didn’t have to be nuns with rulers. They were stern matriarchs and patriarchs of “I’m going to tell your mama” kind of thing. And not that crass, but—I didn’t mean that in a jerky kind of way.
MBR: No.
TF: It’s just a—there was—
MBR: Parents would be told.
TF: …a lot of—they knew a lot of—the African-American teachers, some of them probably came from the community out here. I don’t know that necessarily. But they would know how to make it work within the family system. If a child was underperforming or acting out in class, they would say, “Hm-hmm [affirmative]” and it would all sort of level out after that. The female teachers always wore nice professional dresses, suits, nice jewelry. I don’t remember high, high heels but probably comfortable stylish shoes.
MBR: Heels were there.
TF: And it was a group that had a good deal of pride in themselves and what they were doing. And I looked at the yearbook last night. I didn’t realize until I read last night, that there was a whole adult education component over there, that they had I guess night classes for like literacy classes. That was 1968. That’s pretty—progression’s not really the right word, but pretty forward thinking for that point in time. And it just indicates to me a desire of the institution to—and the people of the culture, to better themselves. In the yearbook there are classes full of young women who look to be in their early to mid-twenties who are—I don’t remember exactly which one. I think it was just a literacy class, like learning to read at that. So it was a way of bolstering an inadequate system that had been in place before.
MBR: Did parents—when you had to talk with the parents, parent-teacher conferences, did you see a real interest in kids’ education on behalf of the parents?
TF: Yeah. I don’t remember doing a lot of those, but yeah. I don’t think they were quite as much in vogue as they have come to be. But, yeah, I mean, this was, once again, a tight-knit community. I mean, if you drive out that way now, as you probably have done, there are—almost all the houses are well painted and tidy. They’re set in their own little lots that are well maintained and well planted. It looks still—it did then and still does look like a community that has a lot of pride in itself and takes care. I think even further up, there’s been some development that is probably predominantly white. But most of the smaller houses I saw on the way out, the older houses are, I imagine, still black owned, as they should be.
MBR: It’s your first year teaching. That’s the other part of this. I was going to say, did you notice any difference or ever hear of any difference between the school materials, the furniture, the building itself? When you said it’s well maintained, between that and white schools, did you ever hear any talk to that?
TF: No, I didn’t really have any point of reference because I hadn’t been in local—
MBR: That’s what I was wondering.
TF: …white schools. But I do have to say that it didn’t seem as well equipped as like my high school had, as well funded. The books were not new. You know, there were indicators, now that you mention it. But as to a way to compare them to local white schools at that time—
MBR: That’d be hard.
TF: Well, I did go—when they closed Meggett, I went over to a middle school in Mount Pleasant to teach English. And it—although Mount Pleasant then was not the yuppie-centric—
MBR: Now.
TF: …hellhole it now is, it—there was still—I remember most of my students there being white.
MBR: Okay.
TF: I don’t really remember any black students, even that year.
MBR: In that year.
TF: I did teach the former mayor of Mount Pleasant English. Or Linda Page, who was the—just—she just lost the mayoral position of the most recent election. Taught her English when she was in the seventh grade.
MBR: Well, that’s a claim to fame right there.
TF: Well. Didn’t do very well at the polls but—
MBR: Okay. You’re 1968, ’69. So we’re in the throes of desegregation. It’s starting. Was there any tension or worry when you worked at Meggett? I mean, things were going on more in Charleston perhaps, and there were kids being selected to go and start the integration process. But was there tension in the schools, or were you aware?
TF: No. I don’t recall any tension. I know that when the decision was made to close Meggett, there was dissatisfaction around that. Just as here 50 years later, if the school board is going to close a school because it’s underperforming or it’s in a rural area of the county, it’s going to be a black school. It’s the same thing happening 50 years later with the schools that have been traditionally under-supported financially. And it happens altogether too often. But I think a [indistinct] [00:35:24], at least as I read it, was the pride in the institution and the history that many of these instructors and the students and their families had with this community school.
I mean, that—we know that’s gone on time and again all over the South, when—I think in many respects a lot of the African-American people would have preferred just staying all-black schools, did not see any real value in integrating. But it was a larger dynamic that any of us could look at that point in time. And they were—“they”—I don’t want to make it sound like us versus them. It’s just this community was happy and successful the way it was, within bounds. Now, I don’t have any way of gauging how many of the graduates went on for higher education. I know that the—a number of the students that I was most close to did, so—
MBR: Which is a measure of success.
TF: Hm-hmm [affirmative].
MBR: Hm-hmm [affirmative]. How did you find out Gresham Meggett was going to be closed?
TF: I don’t remember.
MBR: You don’t remember?
TF: Uh-uh [negative]. Osmosis. Yeah. I don’t—I honestly don’t know. I was not a big reader of our local newspaper at that point. I’m sure it—the word came to the school.
MBR: And then were you just reassigned to another school the following year?
TF: No, I was, as far as I remember, sort of—“You’re out of here, buddy.” So then I went back to the school district and found this position in Mount Pleasant.
MBR: I see.
TF: So I stayed in those schools over there in middle schools for, I think, five—four years, four or five years. There’s plenty of [crosstalk] [00:37:36] that I wasn’t a teacher.
MBR: Well, did you keep in touch, I mean, or—the five or six folks that were white? Also with the black teachers. Like did everyone have lunch together? I think that would depend upon your schedule during your—
TF: It did.
MBR: …workday, right?
TF: I remember us eating a bit in the—in a cafeteria-type thing. And I remember us having a few—Once again, the faculty was, in my experience, wonderful to me. I still look back at the yearbook and think, oh, god, she was a great lady. And there was one gentleman I’ll talk about in a minute who I still see around, the faculty member. Guy named Floyd—I’ll just [indistinct] [00:38:30].
MBR: Sure.
TF: Floyd Breeland.
MBR: Okay.
TF: You ever heard that name?
MBR: No.
TF: You might want to write it down and see if you could draw him out.
MBR: I am.
TF: Floyd, F-L-O-Y-D, B-R-E-E-L-A-N-D. His perspectives would be very interesting.
MBR: Okay.
TF: He was dynamic and personable and just a really open, friendly, warm man who went on—I don’t know where he went to teach after Meggett, but he stayed in the school system for several years and then he became a state legislator. I don’t know whether he was a representative or what.
MBR: Okay.
TF: But he was very prominent in Democratic politics for probably 15 years.
MBR: And he was a teacher at Meggett?
TF: He was, yeah, he was a teacher. I’ll show you his picture—
MBR: Okay.
TF: …when we get to that.
MBR: All right.
TF: And I continued—he’s really, oddly, the only person I’ve ever seen—
MBR: That you see.
TF: …with any frequency. He’s the kind of person who likes to be out and engaged in things, and I’m the same. So we tend to see each other at events, you know, political, social, what have you. And the last time I saw him was probably two years ago now, just walking down George Street through the College of Charleston campus. And he’s gotten a job at the college in—I don’t know if you’re familiar much with the College of Charleston, but it’s a—
MBR: Husband went there.
TF: …party school—
MBR: Yes.
TF: …largely, that continually says that they want to tackle the issue of diversity among their student body. So that was a part of Floyd’s role at that point. Really if you have an opportunity, sort of ask some questions through the community.
MBR: I’m going to look around. Yes.
TF: He’s a great guy.
MBR: Okay. Is there anybody else you would tell us to contact that you think would help us understand this time period? I appreciate that with Mr. Breeland.
TF: Well, when we look through the yearbook—
MBR: When we go through this, things may pop out. You mentioned Mr. Evans, right, but he was the principal.
TF: He is no longer alive.
MBR: He’s no longer alive. Okay.
TF: And I probably was a little unfair to him. I don’t know, something about him, I just—
MBR: Yeah.
TF: …didn’t—didn’t click. As far as I can recollect, my feelings were like, this man is not really on his game. He’s not sharp enough to be a principal. Uh-oh, little “judgy” for this right-out-of-college kid, isn’t it? But it was a good faculty. I segued away from what we were talking about to touch on Floyd.
MBR: We talked about the difference in materials. Oh, I’m sorry. Were there any social events that the teacher—you—all the faculty members went to?
TF: I remember us doing a couple of casual gatherings. It was not an occasion where we’d meet after work or a happy hour—
MBR: Right.
TF: …because—in part because there were no places to go to happy hour—or few, and because it was a rural school and we were all driving in, so God knows where they were all going to to get back to where they lived.
MBR: Sure.
TF: But it was very congenial. As I said, everybody was dressed up and professional and—One thing that I was reflecting on is that we were always Mr. and Mrs. I don’t remember any of them, other than my white colleagues, ever calling me Terry. Floyd came to eventually because, “You got to stop this shit, Floyd. You know, we’ve seen each other for 40 years. Let’s do the first-name thing.”
MBR: Mr. Fox.
TF: Yeah. But it was always Mr. Fox, Mrs. James. And I think a part of that was so that we didn’t necessarily slip up in front of the students, “Hey, Terry.” “No, no, I’m Mr. Fox,” that kind of thing. But then also I think a part of it was the—what many of the instructors may have viewed as a part of the professionalism of their role. They had worked hard and spent money to become educators and to have—I don’t want to say status, but that was a—felt like a little part of it, along with being well dressed and presenting well. You know, they were great role models for the kids.
MBR: Did you have to coach sports? Did you have to do anything like that?
TF: Are you nuts?
MBR: I didn’t know.
TF: No.
MBR: No. English teachers don’t.
TF: No. Too busy trying to figure out how to be a little gay boy around town. Didn’t have time to coach sports. I can’t dribble a basketball, even at this point in life.
MBR: Well, you mentioned Ms. James, and I know we are going to interview her.
TF: Who?
MBR: Ms. James.
TF: Oh, Willie?
MBR: Hm-hmm [affirmative].
TF: Have you met her?
MBR: Not yet.
TF: Oh, my God.
MBR: Her husband’s ill or we would have—
TF: Oh, my God.
MBR: …talked with her this week.
TF: That is so wonderful to know.
MBR: Right. Because she’s very interested, but for right now, he just got home from the hospital and—
TF: Oh, that makes me tear up.
MBR: Oh.
TF: I so wondered about her because she was one of the people who was—I think she was maybe head of the English department. So I was with her on that team. But I just—that really is wonderful to know she’s still alive.
MBR: Hm-hmm [affirmative] and very interested in telling her story, so—
TF: Oh, that’s wonderful.
MBR: Right. We—
TF: When are you going to meet with her?
MBR: I’m going to call her this afternoon and—
TF: Do tell her that I—
MBR: Can I? Okay.
TF: …started crying when you—
MBR: Oh.
TF: …let me know she was still around. She was—And honest to God—And I’m a little ashamed of some of this. I don’t know that I’ve seen, other than Floyd, any of the faculty. Maybe just in passing. One guy who’s no longer alive, I do remember seeing him around a lot. But wow—
MBR: Not Ms. James.
TF: …that is—that’s Willie. And I probably never called her Willie, but—
MBR: Well, I didn’t know. I just got her full name, so when I called, I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to be talking to a man or woman. Just like when I did your call, but yes. And she—a lot of things that you said, people have also said about Ms. James is a role model. I mean, she was—
TF: Oh, she was always standing up straight and well dressed and always had the perfect little brooch on as I remember. We’ll check the brooch in a few minutes. I mean, she was just—she was great. That makes me so happy to know that she’s still in the community and alive. She may not have been more than a couple years older than I am, but there are a lot of people younger than I am who have since left us. So that’s great.
MBR: Right.
TF: Excuse my sentimental—
MBR: No, she’s there. Oh, I don’t—
TF: …thinking about that.
MBR: I will let her know.
TF: That really makes me happy.
MBR: Who was it? Diane Hamilton was also a first-year teacher. But I think it’s social studies, so you may not have been—known her.
TF: Oh, yeah.
MBR: You know who I’m speaking of?
TF: Yeah.
MBR: But she was fun. She said that she would take the bus out here and then walk to the school. And then—
TF: Oh, my.
MBR: …at some point Ms. James saw her and said, “Do you want a lift?” So they ended up carpooling. And now she drives Ms. James to the doctor’s.
TF: Oh, man.
MBR: So they’ve kept in touch and—So it was a very beautiful story about the two of them. So Ms. Hamilton keeps up with her, let me put it that way, and her needs, so.
TF: Yeah, I remember her. She was very sweet, too. You’ve already met with her?
MBR: Yes, I met her earlier this week.
TF: Oh, I’m so excited that you’re—
MBR: We’ve had great response from the teachers, and that’s with Ms. James—
TF: From my era?
MBR: Well, I consider you a great response, and Ms. Hamilton. And Ms. James is going to be down the line. Ms. Hamilton mentioned a Mr. K. but didn’t spell—I don’t know. We’d have to look and find him in here, whether he’s still alive. But—
TF: Well, they’ll know how to—I mean, I’m sure—
MBR: They know how to contact folks.
TF: They’ll [indistinct] [00:48:20] with Floyd.
MBR: Okay. Good point.
TF: I hope he’s still in good health because he’s—
MBR: Good point.
TF: …a terrific guy. Willie’s about—I mean, honest to God, I’ve probably have never called her Willie, but—the other person who I remember most fondly from the faculty. So that is just such good news.
MBR: Well, they said that—Ms. Hamilton pointed out that when—she went on to Fort Johnson after Meggett, and I guess Ms. James had her MA. But then department chairmanship went to the white teacher, not necessarily with the same education. So I’m sure that was hard.
TF: Oh, yeah.
MBR: I’m sure that was hard. But I guess it got better as you went. Because I think Ms. Hamilton became her department chair fairly quickly. She was a, you know, you could tell, an educator, right, right.
TF: Well, I—Did she ever marry?
MBR: I don’t know. I didn’t ask that. I didn’t ask that.
TF: She kind of—
MBR: Perhaps not.
TF: …always felt a little like an old maid in training.
MBR: She was—Now, I went to Catholic school, so I was like—Did you ever talk to your parents about what you were doing? Did they understand that you—
TF: Oh, yeah, they were proud of me. You mean for going into the—Oh, yeah, they—
MBR: Teaching and—
TF: Yeah, they were totally supportive. I think they were a little puzzled because they didn’t know black people either. And I know that sounds odd, but this was a small town, not really rural, but small town surrounded by rural areas. And then there was another little town five miles away and another one six miles away. So it was—we had television and everything, like indoor plumbing, but it wasn’t a real diverse population by any means. So, I mean, I think they were just kind of a little puzzled but pleased, so.
MBR: Well, that’s neat. Well, I guess if you could characterize stuff looking back, what kind of role would Meggett have played in terms of getting people to have opportunity to have equal education? You know, what—the segregated school. I think you’ve talked about this already, is pride and things of that nature. But when we think of legacy, because we see an awful lot of these students really interested in this place, you know, it being listed on the National Register. People don’t go to those National Register Review Board meetings in Columbia. They just don’t go. A busload went up to Columbia that day—
TF: From Meggett?
MBR: …to celebrate. And I thought that said a lot—
TF: Yeah.
MBR: …about the school. And I think you’ve hit on a couple of those points. But maybe if you could think back and kind of bring it together about how important the school was and certainly what it was to you.
TF: Well, there was a great deal of cohesion in the faculty, and I think everyone who was there really wanted to do the right thing and do the best things for the students. There weren’t—I didn’t like teaching, but I liked being there and I liked the opportunities it gave me. I learned as much from them as I ever taught them. There was—you know, about how to be in the world or how to be with people who are—You know, I probably didn’t know how different we were until I got there. You know, I was blithely going on through life without really thinking a lot about that. And yet how much the same and how wonderfully warm and welcoming they were.
I mean, I’m sure that there had to have been individuals there who, even, you know, among the faculty who didn’t want me there, students who didn’t want me there, because they didn’t want to make that change. And who knows if the whole system would have been better if all this craziness hadn’t come to be. But it had to, or at least—I don’t know what else culturally we could have done. I don’t know if that really answered your question.
MBR: I think it did. I think it did.
TF: I’m bumbling.
MBR: You’re not bumbling at all. You’ve done great. Is there anything I should’ve asked you about that I didn’t?
TF: No. But I do want to tell you how my experience there culminated for the year. And I’ll show you some of the people—
MBR: That’s what I was going to—
TF: …when we look at the yearbook. I taught mostly junior English, like third-year students, and really loved a lot of them. We had a great time. We had easy engagement. Hopefully I taught them something. But it was a really good relationship—interrelating rather than relationship. And—so at the end of the school year, we knew the school was going to be closed, I gave the kids a party at my house downtown. Cokes, cookies, maybe a cake or two. I had about—the neighborhood I was living in—Are you familiar with Ashley Hall school?
MBR: No.
TF: It’s a very “poshy” girls’ school—
MBR: Oh. No.
TF: …downtown. Not in a posh neighborhood back then. Barbara Bush went to Ashley Hall—
MBR: Okay.
TF: …all those years ago. It was in a neighborhood that was marginal, and racially mixed at this point. And I mentioned—You were away, but I found—when I moved here, I found this wonderful little house. It’s what’s called a Charleston single. And it’s a—I don’t know, it’s probably dated from the 1840s, beautiful little house, two bedrooms, some formal moldings in the living room and dining room. It was a jewel. Still is. $65 a month, which, you know, the same house would be $3,000 a month downtown now. So, you know, these—we planned in advance. The kids—some of them had cars or had access to cars. They brought others in. I probably had 20 of the kids come to my house just—I mean, I—it was an open invitation to my students. Anybody could get there who wanted to come. Purely innocent. We played music. Some of them danced. I might have danced with them. We had a great time. It wasn’t alcohol. It wasn’t anything inappropriate at all. I think we ended by 9:30 or 10:00 so everybody could get back home. It wasn’t on a school night I’m sure. So we had a great time. And they were wonderful, wonderful young people.
About two weeks later, I get an eviction notice. Apparently someone didn’t like the fact that I was having young black people in my house. So—came from the rental company. I don’t know—even remember who owned the house at that point, but—And this was doubly odd because it was in the house adjacent to mine was an all-black family. It’s like—I don’t know. It was just an odd point in time. But this was just before—maybe concurrent with the Charleston hospital strikes, which you probably read about that.
MBR: Do you think—did you have to move?
TF: Yeah.
MBR: You did?
TF: Yeah. They were not going to have that.
MBR: It was firm.
TF: Yeah. So that’s all right. It was a sweet little house. It’s a good place to live, but—And I, you know, don’t have any regrets because I loved doing it with the—
MBR: The kids.
TF: My other UNC-grad colleague came. I think—maybe—I don’t remember if there were any other teachers I—
MBR: Teachers.
TF: …who came. But we were all chaperoned. We were all totally appropriate, just having a good time. And think about from one perspective, I was only—
MBR: How old?
TF: …four or five years older than they were. We felt—again, not in any inappropriate way, but we felt like almost contemporaries.
MBR: Sure.
TF: They were—the ones that I was particularly [indistinct] [00:57:54] were very savvy and—
MBR: They were juniors?
TF: …just grounded young people.
MBR: That was a great way to end the school year, but I’m sorry you lost the apartment—or the house, excuse me.
TF: Yeah, well, me, too. But it was—it turned out fine. It allowed me to move into an apartment—this is totally not related—over in another neighborhood, which allowed me to be neighbors with a—You’ve probably never heard of this story, but I’m not going to—We don’t need to put it on the tape, but Charleston’s first noted transsexual, Dawn Langley Simmons—Never heard of her? That’s the way her voice was. She was a Brit. Dawn. Yeah. That’s another story for another time, not really related to Meggett except for the fact that she did marry her African-American chauffeur/butler/mechanic, depending on what story you’re reading. Sometime Google Dawn Langley Simmons.
MBR: All right. You gave us our homework assignment. Thank you.
TF: Well, you’ll have some laughs. So I traded my wonderful little house for another crazy experience.
MBR: Well—
TF: You want to look at this?
MBR: I do. Is it—we’re going to look at the yearbook. Because Jenna’s looked through these more than I have. Yearbook staff.
TF: There’s my little white head.
MBR: No.
TF: My head wasn’t white then. It is now. And right next to me is my friend from UNC.
MBR: From UNC?
Its the main reason for losing erection ability during sexual intercourse. free levitra sample If your viagra without prescriptions canada doctor issued a prescription drug and buying anywhere will not do them any good. Because of a continuous rivalry, each specific driving school try to enlarge its offer of behind the wheel training and also the ten mg ones would be the typical initial dose. viagra 25mg Some erectile dysfunction as mentioned above brand cialis online frankkrauseautomotive.com (Kamagra and similar drugs) can be helpful to develop an erection.TF: Yeah.
MBR: Cool. That’s great.
TF: That’s me of course.
MBR: Right here.
TF: Yeah.
MBR: Here, right?
TF: Yeah.
MBR: Oh, my goodness.
TF: You don’t recognize me—
MBR: You’re on the first page.
TF: …with brown hair?
MBR: And the eagle.
TF: Yeah, I don’t know who did—
MBR: We had the gentleman come all in the outfit yesterday. So a gentleman came in with a hat—a Meggett hat on and an eagle shirt. I was very impressed.
TF: I hope it was better crafted than that.
MBR: Probably.
TF: Woo, that’s terrible, in terms of illustration. Mr. Evans, Willie…
MBR: Oh, thank you for showing me.
TF: Look at her. Look at her.
MBR: Yeah.
TF: She’s like—
MBR: Yeah. I hear you.
TF: She couldn’t have been much older than me. Ermine English, I believe she’s gone. She was the school secretary and just delightful. Feisty, funny, like you’d have to be to run high school with a less-than-stellar principal. Whoa, who said that out loud? Don’t quote me on that. Look how—
MBR: She’s a beautiful woman.
TF: I mean, she’s just handsome.
MBR: Yeah. No, I can see what you’re saying about that.
TF: But ask about Ermine. I believe she’s—
MBR: Ermine English?
TF: Yeah.
MBR: Okay.
TF: I believe she’s not alive, but—
MBR: Oh, no, that’s great.
TF: Alfonso.
MBR: He was a stern-looking man, wasn’t he?
TF: Well, and he was—he was quite—he was handsome. I mean, and—
MBR: Was he? Okay.
TF: Yeah, he was good-looking.
MBR: Good presence?
TF: He was tall, imposing.
MBR: We heard from—about the previous principal was called Lash LaRue by the students because he would—he had a little thing going, if you were in the hallway and you were not supposed to be, he had a little sort of whip-like thing—
TF: Oh, nice.
MBR: Yeah.
TF: That’s not really very appropriate for an all-black school.
MBR: It was early. No, it was early.
TF: Got to go whipping your students, wow.
MBR: No, you know, he was a disciplinarian. [Indistinct] [01:01:34] Mr. Evans a disciplinarian?
TF: I guess he did.
MBR: You know what I mean?
TF: Yeah.
MBR: Yeah.
TF: I mean, he looked—not much—he didn’t smile much as I remember. Maybe he just didn’t smile at me. Like, whatever.
MBR: So here are the teachers.
TF: Let’s see. Alice Jones was the librarian. There’s a smile.
MBR: There is a smile.
TF: There’s Ms. English again. Here’s Floyd.
MBR: He’s a good-looking guy, too.
TF: And he wasn’t—you know, I just felt like they were adults and I wasn’t.
MBR: Right.
TF: But…I don’t know whatever happened to this guy, [indistinct] [01:02:30] was around.
MBR: There we go. My hands are dry, so—there we go. [Indistinct] [01:02:39] Coleman.
TF: Oh, that’s Diane. I was forgetting which—
MBR: There you are.
TF: Yeah, there I are. Brown hair and everything.
MBR: [Indistinct] [01:02:51] oh, my goodness. There’s Ms. James. Oh.
TF: Oh, yeah. I guess I misremember her broaches. It was always necklaces apparently.
MBR: [Indistinct] [01:03:07]—
TF: Yeah.
MBR: I think as we work through, yes.
TF: Little something on that.
MBR: I think that was kind of the ticket for women—
TF: And this is my pal from UNC.
MBR: It is?
TF: Yeah. Who’s now a—
MBR: [Indistinct] [01:03:17] McGregor?
TF: …physician living in California. He’s the person I mentioned who went to a Catholic—all-Catholic school here and then UNC.
MBR: Oh, my goodness. Oh, my goodness. So these are the faculty pages. William Richardson.
TF: Ida was a great character, too. You might want to ask about her. She was—
MBR: Ida Thornton.
TF: Is that a broach? There’s a broach.
MBR: I think so. Could be.
TF: This guy, George Twiggs, I never quite—of course I knew him. Never quite—He was—I don’t know. Standoffish is not right. Just I never had much rapport with him. But the only reason I mention him is because his brother is a man named Leo Twiggs who is a—I believe he’s—he may have retired now, but he was a—head of the art department at South Carolina State College in Orangeburg, predominantly still—predominantly a black college. And Leo Twiggs is one of the most notable artists in South Carolina, probably in the Southeast. I mean, he’s an incredibly talented artist.
MBR: And that’s the brother, yeah.
TF: Never really got him or what was going on with him, but—and I’ve never met his brother. But I’ve followed his brother’s career because it’s just—
MBR: Right.
TF: He does phenomenal work.
MBR: Something else? Huh. This is great.
TF: School of philosophy. Don’t know about that.
MBR: We’ve copied all this, right, so we have them all, okay. So—
TF: Our fleet of buses.
MBR: And we heard about the young people actually driving the buses.
TF: Yeah. And look how many—I mean—
MBR: I mean, how many were there?
TF: Two, four, six—eight at least?
MBR: Right.
TF: More beautiful artwork. I guess the art program was a little latent.
MBR: Oh, my goodness, here are the bus drivers. Oh, there were women bus drivers, too. Girl bus drivers, let me put it that way.
TF: And here’s little white boy stuck in the middle of them.
MBR: All right. I got to get closer to see you.
TF: Periscope staff. They must have had all the photographs taken on a single day, because I’m wearing the same thing. And I never would have done that.
MBR: They did that in my high school. You’re absolutely right.
TF: And here’s the dance group, future homemakers.
MBR: Oh, my gosh. This is fantastic. Literary club. Had student council.
TF: And not a male member in literary club.
MBR: No?
TF: There’s Willie.
MBR: Oh. Oh, boy.
TF: Library student assistants. Why you would need 20 library assistants, I don’t know, but—Have you been over to the school? Have you driven by it? I did a little run. I hadn’t been over by it in probably three or four years, and just looked at it on the way over here. It’s just great little nudge.
MBR: We’re hoping that at the end of the project we could do a presentation there.
TF: Oh, that’d be great.
MBR: So I’ll make sure you’re invited so you can come.
TF: Oh, yeah, please do.
MBR: You might have fun.
TF: I don’t know if you can hug your participants, but give Willie a big hug from me. And anybody else. I mean, if you meet Floyd in particular.
MBR: Oh, gosh.
TF: Ida Thornton’s the other one I remember as being really just sort of a—
MBR: And no one has mentioned her.
TF: …great character, spitfire. Well—
MBR: But it depends on who we talk—you know, it’s very dependent upon their own little—
TF: Well, and also there had to have been something of a degree of competitiveness between some of the people who were in faculty positions with—you know, there are personalities and—
MBR: Right. So that plays into it, too.
TF: Willie may not have liked Ida, you know, whatever.
MBR: Right.
TF: I wasn’t crazy about Alfonso, who I never called Alfonso.
MBR: No. Was he Mr. Evans?
TF: Mr. Evans.
MBR: He was Mr. Evans, all right. He was on your periscope staff. Mr. Banks, George [indistinct] [01:07:43] Banks.
TF: More fine artwork, woo.
MBR: It was. I’m so glad that you looked through—I think it’s great that we went through—
TF: Oh, wait a minute. I think—
MBR: What does that say?
TF: Oh, my god, that’s hilarious. Hugh McGregor drew that.
MBR: Your friend from UNC?
TF: Yes. That’s almost as bad as the rest of them. But—yeah, that has to be his. I never even knew he drew. But that has to be—
MBR: His initials.
TF: Yeah.
MBR: Oh, that’s a great page.
TF: Now, most of these folks were a year ahead of me or, you know, these are the seniors. I was with the juniors.
MBR: We interviewed Ned Roper. And I don’t know—so he’s—Ned—so Daniel Smith—Okay. That’s Ned Roper. That must be him. We interviewed him already. That’s why when I see him as a kid, it’s like, whoa. So—oh, no.
TF: The class flower, pink camellia. What?
MBR: I don’t know.
TF: Why? Why do you have a class flower?
MBR: Class colors were pink and blue and the motto: Not at the top but climbing. Not at the top but climbing.
TF: Well, not climbing.
MBR: “But” climbing.
TF: No, but “climbling.”
MBR: Oh, I’m not doing—I wasn’t going there.
TF: Little late for you to be proofing this, Terry, but—You’re 50 years too late.
MBR: So everybody got to say a little something, which is funny. That’s great. Oh, boy. Oh, sorry. John Nathan Frasier. Air Force. Huh. So they showed—oh, so her picture was missing.
TF: These are pretty funny. When they don’t have a—
MBR: I know.
TF: …picture, they make up little bogus things.
MBR: That’s what I was wondering. I wasn’t quite sure how that was working.
TF: No, I didn’t realize until—
MBR: Yeah, when you were looking at it?
TF: …when I was looking at it last, each of the little “non-photographees” has some sort of clever little—
MBR: And this is a good indicator because it tells where they’re going to go. Lillian wants to become a nurse. I mean, you may not have—but at least it shows their aspirations at that point in time, which is kind of cool. Business school, trade school.
TF: Too tall for the camera.
MBR: That’s what I—
TF: Out for lunch.
MBR: That’s the first one I saw. I don’t know. Hezeekya [phonetic], huh. My goodness. No, this is fantastic. All right. So these are the seniors. Oh, my god, it continues on. And you were the junior—
TF: Yeah. I was amazed last night to see how many students there were.
MBR: Yeah. I’m kind of surprised, too.
TF: I mean, it looks like at least—I should have counted, but maybe 2- to 300 students.
MBR: Well, I think we will be counting.
TF: Well, let me just—Don’t get pushy.
MBR: I’m not. Three to a page.
TF: No, I’m kidding. There’s—I did want to—if I can find her.
MBR: Oh, I was going to your juniors.
TF: Oh, I know and I want to do that with you. But…maybe I—this—
MBR: Dan Roper.
TF: Patricia Roper was a senior, got to be really quite friendly with her. And I did see her throughout the community for years following because she and her husband, they moved away, I think maybe California or someplace more progressive, and then they came back and opened what was for its time a fairly cutting-edge little shop downtown called Books, Herbs, and Spices. And it basically was what the name said. You know, they—it’s a place where you could go to buy, you know, herbs and spices, and they had exotic kinds of things from all over the world that nobody else in town carried at that point in time. So, yeah, I wanted to mention her to you because she was quite lovely, and look at all the things she was doing.
MBR: I know. I just [indistinct] [01:12:19] her extracurricular activities.
TF: So now we can go to the juniors.
MBR: There’s a lot of them.
TF: Out fishing.
MBR: The juniors—
TF: Woo. This is one of my best pals. He was president of the junior class.
MBR: Is it Gaillard?
TF: Levy Gaillard, we’ll get to him in a moment.
MBR: Okay.
TF: Look at that face. I mean, who wouldn’t love Rosetta?
MBR: I know.
TF: I mean, it’s like—
MBR: Oh, my gosh.
TF: And I don’t want to think about the fact is they’re also 50 years older. But—
MBR: Oh, my gosh. They aren’t old. They’re beautiful. Oh, they’re right at the right spot. [Indistinct] [01:12:52].
TF: Look at her. And Hazel. She just made me smile last night.
MBR: Oh, my gosh.
TF: Seeing Francina. I mean, I look at their pictures, I almost can pull up their names without looking. I have to look of course because it’s been 50 years. But they were such wonderful kids.
MBR: Oh, Terry.
TF: There’s Levy. Look at that—
MBR: Got a nice face, too.
TF: …dimple.
MBR: I know. Oh, my gosh, the dimple. You’re right.
TF: Great guy. And Tanya, they were—even—Gilliard’s spelled differently, but they were my two best pals.
MBR: The ones that you talked about earlier?
TF: Yeah.
MBR: Oh.
TF: And they came to the party. But just—I mean, it just—she was lively and intellectual and just a great girl. And he was a great guy. If you happen across any of the students from this class, I’d love to know.
MBR: I’m looking at the names.
TF: Alfreda [phonetic] was a beauty.
MBR: Venus Goss, he has a nice face, too. I mean, they all do. They all look so young.
TF: Hm-hmm [affirmative], they are.
MBR: As they should.
TF: And you look at what—what did we count—eight buses?
MBR: I know.
TF: How many of these students were bussed from where, to get to Meggett?
MBR: To get to here, right. That’s one of the questions we ask, how did you get [indistinct] [01:14:24]. Mason Praylow [phonetic]. Now, in the junior class, since you taught junior English, would that hit most of the kids? Do you know what I mean?
TF: Kind of think so.
MBR: Were you like a core course, you know, that—
TF: Yeah.
MBR: Okay. Two Scotts. Roper is such a common name, as is Richardson. Boy. We’re working with a gentleman on—across the way. He’s helping interviewing from the community. David Richardson, and he always kids us, but he means it. He’ll say, “That’s my cousin. That’s my cousin,” and, you know, so we’ve gotten to know his family.
TF: Beth Lane. Yeah.
MBR: Oh, boy. I think it’s great that you remember all of them.
TF: You know, I couldn’t actually name all the names, but once I see it and put it with a face, it’s like, god, I loved her or loved him, so.
MBR: No. No, I know. And then the sophomores are smaller pictures. This is wonderful.
TF: At some point when you have a boring moment between interviews, sit down with the photocopy and count—
MBR: Right, we will.
TF: …because it would be interesting.
MBR: Because I think—Jenna, how many yearbooks are there?
Jenna Trans: There’s two.
MBR: Two. Because otherwise, we just—That’s all there are. So we’re actually going to take a look at the board of education records also, to kind of get a sense of the numbers, because that’s one of the things we’re missing, you know, have that larder, the structure and the chronicle of it so to speak. But you’re absolutely right, this gives us, for these two years, I mean, this gives us, you know, some indicators of size. And we’re also looking for children at this point in time that would’ve not graduated from Meggett in ’69 but would’ve had—because of the closure, they would’ve gone on to Fort Johnson and become part of the—desegregation experience there. So we are trying to locate a few kid—a few kids—they’re kids here—people that can talk to that experience.
TF: Well, my juniors would have gone on to another school.
MBR: That’s what I’m thinking. I know. [Indistinct] [01:16:51] I was looking at because we are trying to identify at least three that could talk to what that was like. In some way, being introduced to you as a white male teacher, that, to my mind, is a preparation stone. It probably helped in that transition. But we need to hear from them their story and how they perceived what it was like to leave Meggett and what you have described and—
TF: Be pushed out of the nest—
MBR: Yes.
TF: …into—from that insular, comfortable setting.
MBR: Right. Into a very new nest with whole different parameters. So we’re going to look really hard at some juniors that, you know, maybe if we now have the names, we can start going through and say, “Who was there?” And a lot of the folks are actually associated with this church as well, if they remained in the community.
TF: This church?
MBR: This church is very—they had a lot of Meggett graduates in their congregation.
TF: I never thought of Presbyterian as being a denomination that African-Americans are drawn to.
MBR: It was established here in the 19th century, and they actually had, after the Civil War, the first school. It was a mission school here.
TF: Well, it’s a big church, too.
MBR: It is. It is. Yeah.
TF: And architecturally kind of—
MBR: Right. Interesting.
TF: …extravagant.
MBR: I know.
TF: I don’t know. I didn’t know what I was looking for.
MBR: No. There’s two. There’s the white James Island Presbyterian Church and then this one. So they separated at one point and then this became a—You’re right, it’s well run, well organized. They take a lot of pride in it. But they do have a lot of Meggett folks that are around here.
TF: Who still stay out here.
MBR: Yeah.
TF: It’s neat to think about.
MBR: So if you can point out a couple of the students that you think would be good that we should try and reach, I would appreciate it.
TF: Oh, sure. Let’s go back.
MBR: Okay. Let’s go back.
TF: Let me show you—
MBR: Oh, no.
TF: Here’s some—There’s our little honkey selves again. But yeah, she was a—Magwood, I think. But I wanted to show you—well, there’s the whole section of beauty—
MBR: Yeah.
TF: …queens, which is a little odd. But where is [indistinct] [01:19:33]?
MBR: Lenox [phonetic].
TF: Is that it? Oh, yeah. Adult school.
MBR: The adult school.
TF: Voices at night.
MBR: This is fantastic. And you think that when you were here, this wasn’t—you didn’t know about this per se?
TF: I guess I just never really thought about it.
MBR: Oh, okay.
TF: Or maybe I didn’t know it was going on.
MBR: Well, you would have left by that time, too, if they’re using the school at night.
TF: Yeah. I was busy downtown drinking beer and raising hell.
MBR: Yeah.
TF: So anyway, I thought that was interesting—
MBR: No, it is.
TF: …an interesting thing.
MBR: And we hadn’t heard that till now. So that’s a good outcome.
TF: So, let’s see.
MBR: But if you—what do you think? Who do you think would be—
TF: Well, Levy—if you can find Hazel, she’s wonderful.
MBR: It’s Hazel…
TF: Hazel Frasier.
MBR: Frasier? Okay.
TF: Levy Gaillard.
MBR: How we spelling Gaillard?
TF: G-A-I-L-L-A-R-D.
MBR: A-R-D, okay.
TF: And then Tanya, T-A-N-Y-A, G-I-L-L-I-A-R-D. And what is her name? Going back a class. This might not give you exactly what you were looking for, but Patricia Roper who had Books, Herbs and Spices.
MBR: Right. No, I appreciate you pointing them out.
TF: See Alfreda Gordime [phonetic], very articulate.
MBR: Okay.
TF: Kathleen Washington.
MBR: Kathleen Washington.
TF: Look at this smile. Who wouldn’t have to love her? A lovely girl.
MBR: Yeah.
TF: Those are the ones that I kind of—
MBR: Okay.
TF: …pull out and remember most fondly.
MBR: No, that gets us started. Yes, because we were just looking at all the folks that—
TF: The others were probably sleeping in class and stuff.
MBR: Okay.
TF: Yeah, I was pretty boring.
MBR: I’m glad you brought this.
TF: Well, yeah. And you do have it, right?
MBR: We do. I think we actually photographed each page, right.
TF: Okay. If you need any reference point.
MBR: No.
TF: What else haven’t we covered?
MBR: I feel like—
TF: I’ve been jabbering for three days now.
MBR: Three days. You been talking—oh, well, I don’t know, hour and a half.
TF: Yeah.
MBR: I guess just is—I always go back to—I mean, you played a role in this, you know? I mean, unsuspecting, you ended up first-year teacher, but you played a role in these—the lives of these young people, so.
TF: I hope so. Because they meant a lot to me.
MBR: Yeah.
TF: And I’m sad that I haven’t been better about keeping in touch.
MBR: Oh, they could be all over.
TF: Yeah.
MBR: One of the things we’ve talked about doing is a Facebook page with some of the project results, because some of these people far away actually do Facebook. The people here, you know, they’re all talking to one another maybe more than you think.
TF: [Crosstalk] [01:23:18].
MBR: Yes, I’m not either. But there are people out there. But I’d like, if it’s all right with you, if I can call you with any follow-up questions.
TF: Oh, sure. And if any of these people wonder why I’ve sicced you on them, just say—
MBR: Okay.
TF: Blame me.
MBR: I’m right there.
TF: Yeah. Always good to have a scapegoat.
MBR: And what we’re going to do, the interview itself, the film and the audio will go to Charleston County initially until it’s passed through by the National Park Service. They will probably retain a copy. But we want it at the Avery Research Center here in Charleston and then in Columbia, your favorite city, at the archives and history there.
TF: You ever spent time in Columbia?
MBR: [Indistinct] [01:24:05]—Or Coke—What do they call it? Coca-Cola now, the Coke, something like that. But—so we’re going to also give you a copy of this. So you can pass it along.
TF: Oh, okay.
MBR: I mean, a lot of information you gave is very important to us understanding this. I’m so thrilled that you called the County and said, “I want to participate” because that meant—We’ve been looking forward to meeting you.
TF: Just balance the story a little bit.
MBR: Yes.
TF: And, you know, I know that Willie James is alive and other good things. So please do express to her—
MBR: I will let you know.
TF: …that you made me cry when you told me that she was still with us. Because she was wonderful to me. I mean, she may not remember me fondly, but I sure as hell do her.
MBR: Oh, I have a feeling she has got a great memory.
TF: Well, we had a good time, you know, for where we were in our lives. As I look at her pictures and stuff, I realize she’s not that much older than I am. But at that point in time, she was a stellar established professional and I was a little honkey sprout coming to make trouble, so.
MBR: I definitely think she’ll remember you then.
TF: Well, you know, I would hope so because it was—we had a lot of good times for one year.
MBR: One year, but what a year.
TF: Yeah.
MBR: And what a year—
TF: In many regards it was, as I’ve said, transformative and really a special time. So are you done with me?
MBR: I am done with you.
TF: All right.
MBR: I’m going to ask you to do one last thing and we can turn off—
