Oral history interview with Virginia Batte Phillips, 1997 [text/print transcript]

              1
UNCG CENTENNIAL ORAL HISTORY PROJECT COLLECTION
INTERVIEWEE: Virginia Batte Phillips
INTERVIEWER: Cheryl Junk
DATE: August 17, 1997
CJ: Mrs. Phillips, thank you for letting me come today. This is a wonderful opportunity for me. I‟d like to start by asking you what made you decide to go to college at a time when most American women did not go to college. And what made you choose Woman‟s College [Editor‟s note: the name of the college was North Carolina College for Women from 1919 to 1932 and Woman‟s College from 1932 to 1963]?
VP: My parents had always planned to send their children to college, and when I graduated from Concord [North Carolina] High School in 1924, the decision was easily made for me to go to what‟s now UNCG [The University of North Carolina at Greensboro]. I was valedictorian of my high school class, so I didn‟t have any trouble getting in.
CJ: No, I guess you didn‟t. [both chuckle.] And what made them like UNCG so much—Woman‟s College—so much?
VP: At that time, no girls went to [University of North] Carolina [at Chapel Hill] unless they were taking library science or unless they were juniors. Occasionally some of them would go to study law to start a law course. And so the boys automatically went to Chapel Hill or to [North Carolina] State [University, Raleigh, North Carolina] or to Davidson [College, Davidson, North Carolina]. Duke [University, Durham, North Carolina] did not get—had not started in 1924. And so it wasn‟t much of a decision to make to go to Woman‟s College because that was where most of the young women in North Carolina were going at that time.
CJ: And if you wanted to stay in the state, you pretty much had to—
VP: You had to, yes.
CJ: Yes. And was that before they allowed women to transfer to Carolina as juniors?
VP: A few could transfer to Carolina as juniors. I remember that they took you if you wanted to go to law school or to medical school or to study library science. If you just wanted a degree in English or history or something of that sort, you were told to go somewhere else.
CJ: So your family believed in educating girls?
2
VP: Yes. Yes. I had two sisters who followed me at UNCG [Frances Batte Foil, Class of 1930, and Sue Batte Dennis, Class of 1938]. My two brothers went to Davidson, which was close to Concord and where they had been brought—where they had been familiar with that campus most of their lifetime.
CJ: Did your mother go to college?
VP: Yes. She went to what‟s now the Virginia College for Women at Farmville, Virginia [Editor‟s note: now Longwood College].
CJ: Yes, ma‟am. Yes. And Daddy, did he go to college?
VP: Daddy didn‟t go to college. He was a victim of the [American] Civil War [War Between the States, 1861-1865], so to speak. The family was bankrupt by the time that episode was over.
CJ: When you were at Woman‟s College, you entered as a freshman in 1924. Right?
VP: Yes.
CJ: What campus organizations did you join and did you belong to all through your four years at Woman‟s College?
VP: During my freshman year, I was invited to join the Dikean [Literary] Society, one of the four societies that were on the campus at that time. And I enjoyed my contact with that group throughout my four years of college. I worked in the YWCA [Young Women‟s Christian Association] a little.
CJ: Oh, yes. Yes.
VP: And I was active in my class organization. I held several offices in my class during my four years, and I was elected the Everlasting President of the class my senior year.
CJ: Oh, oh, wonderful.
VP: Which was a very easy job because we never had much money. [laughs]
CJ: And you were president of the Dikean Society, is that right?
VP: I was. In my senior year I was president of the Dikean Society.
CJ: Right. And what was the difference between the four societies? Did they have different goals and aims and—?
VP: At one time they had been, I guess you might call them, literary societies. They had had serious programs. 3
CJ: Yes.
VP: This was before fraternities and sororities came to the campus.
CJ: Right.
VP: And they were mostly social. In fact they were meant to be social, to give the girls—they all had at least one big dance during the year, and they had frequent Saturday night parties—
CJ: Yes.
VP: —and things of the sort where you could go down to the—all four halls where the four societies were—in Students‟ Building, which I believe has been torn down now.
CJ: Yes. Yes.
VP: The Cornelians and the Adelphians had the original quarters built for societies. The Dikeans and the Alethians were added later as the size of the study body grew. And they had to provise [sic] quarters for us in less desirable parts of Students‟ Building. And we never were quite as well situated as the original two societies were. But that didn‟t matter much to us. We had a place to have a good time, and that was what we wanted.
CJ: Right. Did you still retain any of the old debating society or literary society functions?
VP: No. There wasn‟t any. By the time I got there, it was mostly all social.
CJ: Right.
VP: And there were, of course, no boys on the campus, and so girls had to provide their own social life. And we could go down there and play records. We usually kept a lot of—all the new records on hand, and you could cook some—or you could engage the hall if you wanted to have a little breakfast party and entertain your “little sisters”—
CJ: Oh, yes. Yes. Yes.
VP: —or something of the sort. There was a place where you could go and do that.
CJ: Right. It sounds as if it gave you a—did it give you a feeling of roots away from home—home away from home at all, or—?
VP: Yes. The societies were most too big to be very intimate with many of the members. Most people had little groups within the society—
CJ: Okay.
4
VP: —that they would have if they wanted to entertain at a little tea or breakfast. Or, most of the time most—if you were a junior, you liked to entertain your “little sister” or “sisters” as you might have in the freshman class.
CJ: Right.
VP: And so you‟d go in cahoots with a couple of your classmates and have a little party for them.
CJ: Right. So when you were a freshman you had a junior “big sister”—
VP: Yes.
CJ: —from the Dikean Society?
VP: Yes, she was.
CJ: Yes. And when you were a junior, you had a freshman “little sister.”
VP: I had a couple of “sisters.” Yes.
CJ: Right. Do you remember anything about them or what they were like?
VP: Oh, yes. I remember the—all my “little sisters” very vividly. I had known their big sisters in the campus, and some of the girls that I—who maybe were in my class would say to me, “I‟d like for you to take my little sister next year.”
CJ: Oh, yes.
VP: I think I had—I think I had five.
CJ: Oh. When you were a junior?
VP: Yes.
CJ: My goodness. Now the senior and sophomores were also paired off too, weren‟t they?
VP: Yes, but—and the—then since the sophomores always had a big graduating party for the seniors.
CJ: Yes. And wasn‟t it the sophomores who made the daisy chain?
VP: Yes, the thing. And the daisy chain—that was a night that you‟ll never forget.
CJ: Oh.
5
VP: You went off in the truck—or rather the trucks that belonged to the college—to daisy fields somewhere there in Guilford County and picked daisies and carried them back and put them in water. And then you met, it seems to me, for hours and hours and hours and made—bagged those bunches of daisies that you‟d form and then tie them all to a big rope—
CJ: Yes.
VP: —and it took a lot of roping—
CJ: Yes.
VP: —because you had two strands of it.
CJ: Yes. Because you stood in two lines.
VP: Yes.
CJ: And the seniors walked between the lines. Right.
VP: Between them. And you—and, of course, the sophomores wore white.
CJ: Yes. What did the graduating seniors wear?
VP: Oh, they had on their caps and gowns by that time.
CJ: Oh, by that time. Yes.
VP: And so we were the only ones in white with our daisy—with our daisies over our shoulder.
CJ: Did you have to have some special qualification to be a member of the daisy chain gang?
VP: No. I think everybody who—you see, this—you could go on home, you might say. By that time you were through with your work, and you could go home. And you had to stay a couple days extra to participate in the daisy chain.
CJ: Right.
VP: They used the daisy chain for the Sunday morning service, which was a religious service, you might say.
CJ: Like a baccalaureate.
VP: Yes, a baccalaureate.
6
CJ: Yes.
VP: And then they used the daisy chain for the graduating exercises—
CJ: Yes.
VP: —which were usually held on Monday.
CJ: On a Monday?
VP: Oh, the day following the Sunday, see—
CJ: I see. I see. So it wasn‟t the same day as the baccalaureate.
VP: Oh, no.
CJ: Okay.
VP: Or we‟d have something else to do. [laughs]
CJ: Now did you also still put the daisy chain in—after graduation did you form it into the letters and the number, rather, of the class who was graduating, and put it on the lawn in front of Foust [Building]—like a twenty—
VP: I don‟t remember that.
CJ: Yes.
VP: I just—I don‟t remember what we did with that daisy chain.
CJ: Yes. Okay. It sounds like a lot of fun. It just sounds like a lot of fun.
VP: It was. I mean—you know—it was just—most girls—we had a lot of sentiment about our big sisters or little sisters in those days.
CJ: A lot of what? Sentiment?
VP: A lot of sentiment, yes.
CJ: Yes. Yes.
VP: And so this was something that, if you were very active in your class, that you wanted to do.
CJ: Yes. What was the duty—what were the duties of a big sister to a little sister? What was she supposed to do? 7
VP: Well, when you got there, they would come visit you and try to get you through the early days of college—telling you where things were—
CJ: Yes.
VP: —and how to get along with this and that and so forth. And then they usually maybe would say—at that time you had to have a vacancy at your table before you could invite anybody to come eat with you because otherwise there wouldn‟t be a—everybody had an assigned place, and there wouldn‟t be a place. And very often one of them would maybe leave a little note under your door, “Come and eat supper with me tonight. Meet me in Spencer Dormitory at six o‟clock [pm].”
CJ: Yes.
VP: And so that was—they would try to keep up with you. Of course, some people had more of a knack for it than others, and some of them put themselves out a little bit more to do more activity for their little sisters or their big sisters. But it was a very fine institution, I thought.
CJ: Yes.
VP: And I enjoyed the people that I knew that way.
CJ: Yes.
VP: I have—right now in there on my den wall are two German etchings that my little sisters gave me when I graduated.
CJ: Oh, how sweet.
VP: And they bought them from Fraulein—I can‟t think of her name—the one who taught German.
CJ: I don‟t know.
VP: The one who—well, this was so long ago you wouldn‟t.
CJ: No.
VP: But they—she sold etchings—I mean, just as an accommodation, you might say, because she went to Germany at least once every year, and she‟d bring back a great quantity of etchings.
CJ: Oh, these were not her own etchings?
8
VP: No, these were from—she bought them, I think, by request. I mean, she just—people had said, “Well, why don‟t you bring us back some etchings.”—
CJ: Yes.
VP: —and so these—and these—that makes the etchings that much more meaningful to me, that they came from Fraulein‟s collection.
CJ: Oh, wonderful. What a nice story that is. Oh, that‟s great. Well, it sounds like the little sisters were pretty much dependent on the big sisters to orient them to campus life.
VP: Well, you didn‟t have to nurse them much.
CJ: Yes.
VP: And if they had a terrific problem, and some of them didn‟t get along well with their work or something, you might have to try to see what you could do about it—maybe you‟d go and talk to their advisor or something of that sort. But most of the time it was a social obligation.
CJ: Right. Were you by this time still paired up with a faculty advisor to whom you became very close or not? How did that advisor system work?
VP: I had a freshman advisor, and she knew the courses I was taking. And I fortunately was getting along all right in my work. At least, I wasn‟t reported for any serious trouble, and so she didn‟t have to contact me much. But she would have talked over any academic problems I was having. And during my junior and senior years when I had decided to major in history, Dr. [Walter Clinton] Jackson was my faculty advisor.
CJ: Oh.
VP: That was before he was made the president of the College. And he was head of the history department, and so I was one of his history majors.
CJ: Oh, how fortunate.
VP: So I got to know him very personally.
CJ: Oh.
VP: And it was just a rare privilege to go in his office and sit down and talk to him all by yourself. [laughs]
CJ: Yes, yes. What was he like?
VP: The most charming man I think I ever saw. 9
CJ: Oh, my.
VP: He had a twinkle—and his history class was a privilege. You—he would say to us, “Now, young ladies.” He‟d pick up the textbook and say, “Young ladies, you‟ve got to learn what‟s in this textbook,” says, “Because we‟ve got to do some talking when you come to class.” [laughs]
CJ: Oh, that‟s wonderful.
VP: Because he would—and then he would tell the most interesting stories—he almost—you felt as if you knew intimately all—especially Andrew Jackson [seventh President of the United States].
CJ: Oh.
VP: He knew more about Andrew Jackson than anybody you ever heard of, almost. And he would just—he would always have something fascinating to add to the day‟s lesson. It was a privilege to have him.
CJ: Did you have one class with him?
VP: Yes, I took a year of American History—
CJ: Yes.
VP: —under him three times a week.
CJ: Two semesters?
VP: Yes—I had him for—yes, I had two semesters.
CJ: Yes. What were the—? Do you happen to remember what the required courses were?
VP: For what?
CJ: For the degree you got.
VP: You didn‟t do any—most of your freshman year and sophomore years your schedule was already laid out for you.
CJ: Right.
VP: You had your foreign language and your English, and so on.
CJ: Yes.
10
VP: By the time you picked a major, then you took most of your work in that field.
CJ: Yes.
VP: I know my junior year, I had—I took American literature out of my field—
CJ: Yes.
VP: —that because I wanted to—and then—because that—Mr. A.C. Hall [English Department faculty] taught that.
CJ: Miss Stacy Hall?
VP: Miss—No, Mr. A.C. Hall.
CJ: Oh, excuse me. Mr. A.C. Hall.
VP: Yes.
CJ: Okay. Gotcha.
VP: And he was another charming gentleman and was a wonderful, wonderful teacher.
CJ: Yes. Wonderful.
VP: He—his classes were a lot of fun. We turned the cl—took tables on him one day.
CJ: Oh?
VP: For some reason he thought bananas were just a beautiful fruit—
CJ: Yes.
VP: —and somehow he‟d bring in a reference to bananas every now and then. So we decided that the next time we had bananas at breakfast for the cereal that we all were going to bring our banana to him. [CJ chuckles] We had a ten o‟clock [am] class in English Literature—I mean, American Literature—and we got there early, everybody—and we piled up—and of course, we—when we told people at our tables what we were going to do, they gave us their bananas too.
CJ: Oh, yes.
VP: So we just had a great big pile of bananas—
CJ: Oh. [laughter]
11
VP: —on his table when he walked in. Well, he broke down.
CJ: Yes. Yes.
VP: And every time he‟d start to teach the class, somebody would look at those bananas and laugh. So finally, he just dismissed us.
CJ: Oh. He just let you go.
VP: He just couldn‟t face us and those bananas and teach [Henry Wadsworth] Longfellow [American poet and educator] or whoever it was he was—or [Edgar Allen] Poe [American author, poet, editor and literary critic] or whoever it was he was going to talk about that day. [laughs]
CJ: Oh, jeepers. [laughs] So class was dismissed on account of bananas.
VP: On account of bananas.
CJ: Wonderful. Oh, my goodness. That‟s a great story. Well, let‟s shift gears just a little bit into some of the memories you have about some of the main events that happened on the campus and in the country as they related to Woman‟s College during your time at Woman‟s College. Mrs. [Betty] Carter in the [Jackson Library] Special Collections gave me a list of all the important events that happened on campus, and—
VP: I‟ll tell you one that happened on the campus that you may not have listed.
CJ: All right.
VP: [Charles] Lindbergh [American aviator, author, investor, explorer, social activist] flew the Atlantic [Ocean]—
CJ: Yes.
VP: —and when he came back to the United States, he made a tour. Greensboro was included in that tour.
CJ: Oh, gracious.
VP: And he—they—he rode in a convertible—up on the back of the convertible, right down Walker Avenue—
CJ: Oh.
VP: —all the way through Woman‟s College.
CJ: Oh, my goodness. 12
VP: And needless to say, all the girls were out. [chuckles]
CJ: Oh. What do you remember about that day? Was it—?
VP: We were—we knew, I‟m sure, about what time he was to be out there, so everybody was dismissed from class, and they all lined up especially—at that time there was a bridge over Walker Avenue.
CJ: Yes. Could you drive over it?
VP: No, he went under it.
CJ: He went under it. Okay.
VP: He went under it. And we were all lined up. Of course, couldn‟t too many get on that bridge, but we were lined up all the way up and down Walker Avenue. I think I was up about even with Anna Howard Shaw dormitory.
CJ: Yes. Yes.
VP: You see, he drove all along there, and you could almost reach out and touch him.
CJ: So he—
VP: And he went so slowly, you know. He had a police escort and everything. And it was a great day that we got to see Lindbergh.
CJ: So he went on College Avenue under Walker? Or was he on Walker?
VP: Well, he was on Walker.
CJ: He was on Walker.
VP: You see, now I don‟t know how it is now. At that time you could drive right straight on through, right through there by the laundry—
CJ: Oh, yes. Yes.
VP: —and the library and under the bridge and right on up by Spenc—I mean Shaw Dormitory.
CJ: And over to Tate Street.
VP: Yes, you would think.
13
CJ: Okay. I understand. What time of year was it, do you remember? Was it warm or cold or—?
VP: It must have been—it was warm—it must have been—I think he flew in the spring, as I remember it. It was about my junior year, as I recall.
CJ: It was 1927, so that would have been your junior year.
VP: Yes, that would have been right.
CJ: Right. Well, that was one of the things on the list that I wanted to ask you about. Now, let me ask you—I‟ll just name the other events, and then tell me if you have any memories about them. The Curry Building burned in 1926. They built another one in 1926.
VP: It was new.
CJ: Yes. So you saw the new one.
VP: And I did my practice teaching in the new Curry Building over there. At that time, they took—I know the students went through the sophomore year in high school because I taught freshmen and sophomores in high school—
CJ: Okay.
VP: —in my practice teaching.
CJ: Oh, my. Okay.
VP: And—but I don‟t remember whether—it seems to me that after that maybe they were transferred to the regular high schools in Greensboro.
CJ: I don‟t know.
VP: I can‟t remember. I don‟t remember anybody teaching—I mean, doing their practice teaching with seniors in high school, for instance.
CJ: Yes, I—I‟m surprised they—I didn‟t know that they let you teach high school students at all.
VP: Well, they didn‟t. Well, of course it got—you know, they had to have their laboratories and their—and so many things that you‟d have to provide for them that it was only a matter of time before they found it more advantageous to let them go to public schools.
CJ: So did the Curry School actually go up through high school?
14
VP: Yes, and it was a great pleasure to teach those children. Most of them were faculty children—
CJ: Oh, yes.
VP: —and they were very smart.
CJ: Yes.
VP: I know Dr. [Albert S.] Keister‟s children, Mary Elizabeth [Class of 1934] and—I‟ve forgotten the other one‟s name—and [English] professor [J. Arthur] Dunn‟s daughter was in one of my classes. And Mr. [J.M.] Sink [superintendent of buildings and grounds] who ran the college lib—laundry, his son was in one of my classes.
CJ: Oh, Mr. Sink? Yes.
VP: And so it was fun knowing those children, and they all were extremely anxious to learn and contributed a lot to the class.
CJ: Oh, that‟s wonderful. How many grades did the Curry School have or how far did it go up?
VP: I can‟t tell you for sure that they had any classes above a sophomore class in high school.
CJ: Yes. Right.
VP: I taught juniors—I taught freshmen and sophomores in—when I did my practice teaching.
CJ: How many semesters did you practice teach?
VP: We—I had a wonderful teacher; Miss—Gladys Boynton was her name.
CJ: Yes. Boynton?
VP: Yes.
CJ: Boynton? Yes.
VP: She was wonderful. And I taught a civics class, which would be eighth graders. And then I taught a unit in American History, which would have been the sophomores.
CJ: Yes. For two semesters, or one—
VP: I think I taught each one of them six weeks, as I recall.
15
CJ: Yes. During your junior year?
VP: Yes. No, I believe my senior year I did my practice teaching.
CJ: That would make sense, I think. That‟s—
VP: Yes. Well, you had to take all that technique of teaching and classroom management and all that before they could ever—you were ever turned loose. [chuckling]
CJ: Right. When you entered Woman‟s College was that your career goal, to be a teacher?
VP: Yes.
CJ: And did you go on to be a teacher?
VP: Yes. I came here to Winston-Salem [North Carolina] and taught. It was considered one of the most progressive cities in North Carolina at that time in their school system.
CJ: Yes.
VP: And Dr. [John P.] Cook [education professor], who headed up that department of getting you a job, was very anxious for me to come to Winston-Salem.
CJ: Very good. Well, let me get back to a couple of the other main characters on campus and some of the main events. Again, I‟ll just list them, and you tell me memories, if you have any. There was Harriet Elliott [history and political science faculty, dean of women] and Katherine Taylor [Class of 1928, dean of women, dean of students, dean of student services, director of Elliott Hall] was actually in your class.
VP: Katherine Taylor was the [Henry] Weil [Fellowship, awarded for graduate study]—at that time only one scholarship was offered at Woman‟s College.
CJ: Oh, the Weil Scholarship—right.
VP: Yes, the Weil Scholarship—and Katherine Taylor won that for our class.
CJ: Did you know her at all?
VP: Oh, yes, I knew her well. I knew her in the—through the years—[phone rings]—knew her in the years since then.
[recording paused]
16
CJ: Well, we were talking about Katherine Taylor and Harriet Elliott, and Dr. [Julius] Foust was the president while you were there, so do you have any memories of any of those?
VP: Dr.—Dr.—Sarah Foust [Burton, Class of 1928] was Dr. Foust‟s niece. She was in my class.
CJ: Okay.
VP: And she and I were real good friends. And I used to visit in her home in the years since that time. We did not see much of Dr. Foust because this was about the last year that he was active, and he was not able to really function for my senior year there.
CJ: Do you have memories of him as a freshman or sophomore?
VP: I didn‟t see very much of him. He would be there at an assembly occasionally, but I had no contact with him personally.
CJ: Okay.
VP: He didn‟t teach anything, and he was really not physically able to do a lot.
CJ: Right. He was getting older at that time.
VP: He was getting older, and then Dr. Jackson took over—it must—I imagine about the next year after I graduated.
CJ: Yes. Do you have any particular memories of either Katherine Taylor or Harriet Elliott?
VP: We all thought a great deal of Katherine Taylor. She was a French major, I remember, and she always wore knickers or some kind of pants around the campus.
CJ: Oh, that was allowed? You could do that?
VP: Most—yes. Most of the time. I don‟t know that she wore them to class. I don‟t remember that part of it. But she wore them—like the—around on the campus and all that. And she was very smart, and we know just how smart she was because she had that—she won the Weil Fellowship in our class.
CJ: Yes.
VP: And I saw her through the years since then—since she was in my class. She always came to any kind of reunion, and we always depended on her to make the arrangements—
CJ: Oh.
VP: —for us to meet and so forth. And she always did it very willingly and efficiently. 17
CJ: Right. She was hired by the school almost immediately, wasn‟t she?
VP: She was—she went to Harvard [University, Cambridge, Massachusetts] or Yale [University, New Haven, Connecticut]—I‟ve forgotten which—to do her study.
CJ: Graduate work?
VP: Yes, graduate work, and then she came back there to teach.
CJ: Right.
VP: And she was—taught French for a while, and then she went into—I don‟t know what you call it—looking after the girls, so to speak, under Miss Elliott.
CJ: Yes, yes. I think she was—I don‟t remember her office—I think it was dean of women or something like that.
VP: She later became dean of women.
CJ: All right.
VP: She worked up in that department, so to speak.
CJ: Yes. Well, what memories do you have of Harriet Elliott? You were telling me a story earlier that I‟d like you to tell, both about her in class and about her nephew.
VP: Oh. Well—
CJ: And any other stories you have about Harriet Elliott.
VP: Harriet Elliott was truly one of the great women of this century. She knew personally all the women leaders of that time—Dr. Anna Howard Shaw and Carrie Chapman Catt [both American women‟s suffrage leaders].
CJ: Yes. Yes.
VP: And so forth.
CJ: Yes.
VP: And she told most interesting stories about all of them. I took her class my junior year in college, and when I went in and she saw my maiden name, it stymied her. B-A-T-T-E, how do you pronounce it? She called me Miss Battay, and one day she come out with Miss Batty [laughs], and everybody would just scream in the room.
CJ: Oh, my. 18
VP: And I told her several times how it was pronounced, just plan B-A-T, but she couldn‟t seem to simplify it that much. And finally, to the great amusement of the whole class—everybody else was called Miss Jones and Miss Smith and Miss Brown—and when she called on me, I was simply called Virginia.
CJ: [laughs] The only one?
VP: Only one—the only one who was called by her first name. And then very often when she would call me Virginia, somebody would let out a little snicker. It amused them that she couldn‟t get my name straightened out.
CJ: Right. What class was that?
VP: It was her class she taught in government.
CJ: Yes.
VP: She taught it to juniors and seniors.
CJ: Right.
VP: I don‟t think she ever taught, when I was there, freshmen or sophomores. Her work was all with advanced classes. She was very, very popular.
CJ: Yes. Yes. She was professor of political science and history?
VP: Yes. Yes. And I had had her for a while in this class. One time—I was living in Anna Howard Shaw Dormitory, and the person who was keeping house that day came rushing down to my room, said, “Virginia, come to the phone. Miss Elliott wants you—is on the phone. She wants to speak to you.” I thought, “Why on earth does she want to speak to me?” Well, I went rushing down there. And she had a nephew whom she referred to occasionally in her lectures. His name was Elliott, and she thought a great deal of Elliott. He meant a great deal to her. And she informed me that Elliott was coming to spend the weekend with her, and she would like for me to have a date with him.
CJ: Yes.
VP: Well, I dropped my teeth. [laughs]
CJ: My gracious. Yes.
VP: And told her I would. So she sent Elliott around. First thing he said to me, “Don‟t call me Elliott.” Says, “Ev—nobody but Aunt Hit calls me Elliott.” Says, “My name—I want to be called Jerry.” [laughs] So from then on, to me, he was Jerry.
CJ: Nobody but Aunt Hit called him Jerry—called him Elliott. Right. Called him Elliott. 19
VP: And so I got to know Miss Elliott from a little different point of view when I was dating Elliott, otherwise known as Jerry. [laughs]
CJ: What influence would you say Miss Elliott had on your life and on the women at Woman‟s College?
VP: She made you realize that your rights as a woman had not been won easily and that you needed to do your part, to vote, and to be interested in the affairs of the country.
CJ: She had worked very hard for suffrage, and—
VP: That‟s right. Yes.
CJ: By the time you entered as a freshman, women had only had the vote for four years.
VP: Yes.
CJ: Right. Right.
VP: And so, she was a most interesting person to know and to have as a teacher. I felt fortunate to have known her. And, of course, as a person she was just charming. She had a wonderful laugh—
CJ: Oh, my.
VP: —and sense of humor, and we thoroughly enjoyed her. And half the time she talked with one foot up on the leg of her chair—
CJ: Oh.
VP: —and a newspaper waving—and waving a newspaper in the air. [laughs]
CJ: I was about to get to the newspapers because I had one woman on tape saying Miss Elliott said, “Young ladies, if you don‟t read a newspaper every day, you can‟t be educated.” Was she big on newspapers?
VP: Oh, I should say she was.
CJ: Oh, yes.
VP: Three of us went in together and subscribed to the Greensboro paper—
CJ: Oh.
VP: —and we took turns taking it to class. [laughs]
20
CJ: Oh, that‟s very good.
VP: And a great many people in the class would bring a newspaper with them. And often times she would digress from the assigned lesson for that day to discuss a problem that was in—facing the country, or even Greensboro.
CJ: Well, from what you‟ve said about Dr. Jackson and Miss Elliott, it sounds as if some of the classes you had were discussion classes, not just lectures, where you were urged to talk and speak.
VP: Yes. This was, of course, my junior and senior year, and most of the people in those classes were majors in those departments, and they would be extremely interested in what was going on.
CJ: Right.
VP: Dr. Keister was another one in the social sciences department. He taught economics. And he opened up a new field in my life, so to speak—
CJ: Oh.
VP: —to be more interested in economic affairs.
CJ: Yes.
VP: And I learned how to—that there were such things as stocks and bonds and things that have helped me a great deal in my later life.
CJ: Yes. Well, back to Miss Elliott, I want to sort of lead into Park Night. Park Night was Miss Elliott‟s baby. In 19—either ‟17 or ‟18—she invented it as a way to kind of boost sagging school spirit. Now, your were—
VP: That took place Friday night of our commencement weekend—
CJ: Okay. Okay.
VP: —each year. And each class, each society, and then the student body voted for “Service.”
CJ: Right. For a girl to be “Service,” right. And it was—
VP: To be—to represent “Service.”
CJ: And it was secret ballot.
VP: It was a secret, ballot, and no one knew until Park Night who those people would be.
21
CJ: Oh. Oh my. Oh, my. Who was “Service” when you were a senior?
VP: Teenie Welton [Class of 1928]. She was—
CJ: Teenie Welton.
VP: Ernestine was her name. She was not teeny, but by size—she was a good tall girl. But Teenie had been president of our freshman class, and then she was later on president of student body our senior year and a very, very fine person. And she was elected Service.
CJ: Teenie Welton.
VP: Welton. She was from Portsmouth, Virginia.
CJ: W-E-L-T-O-N?
VP: She came back to Woman‟s College. She was employed there under that—I—the part like that Miss Elliott later on headed—you know, to look after the girls and their behavior and morals and everything else.
CJ: Okay. Okay. I don‟t know what that is called, but I know what you mean.
VP: I don‟t know—I don‟t know a name for it.
CJ: Yes. What did it mean to you to represent the Dikean Society in Park Night?
VP: Well, I was very, very pleased, and, of course, it was always quite an event any time—the only other time you represented Dike, the goddess of justice, was during initiation services—ceremonies—when you inducted the freshmen each year. You were supposed to be Dike, and then on Park Night you carried your scales and took two or three bed sheets and got your costume ready.
CJ: I have a photograph of you.
VP: You don‟t mean it. [laughs]
CJ: Yes. From Pine Needles [yearbook]. There you are.
VP: Oh. That‟s right.
CJ: There you are.
VP: And see, it took about three sheets [laughs] to get that—see, that was a sheet.
CJ: Yes. The arms. The arms.
22
VP: And then you had a sheet, I think, in the front and the back, and a lot of safety pins.
CJ: Oh, you safety pinned it, not sewed it.
VP: [laughs] Safety pinned it. Oh, it wasn‟t—they were sheets that you took off the bed.
CJ: Oh, I see. You didn‟t sew them together.
VP: They weren‟t sewn together. They were just draped on you, and you couldn‟t move after you got it on.
CJ: You look so elegant in that.
VP: And somebody had to help you dress—
CJ: Oh, yes.
VP: —and get it all fixed.
CJ: And it took place at night in Peabody Park.
VP: In Peabody Park.
CJ: And there were lanterns hung. It must have been beautiful.
VP: It was a beautiful service.
CJ: Oh, it must have been.
VP: And at that time they had fixed sort of a little outdoor theater. I don‟t know what‟s there now.
CJ: Yes, not much.
VP: But they had a little outdoor theater down there with water running in front of it. There was a little brick—brook.
CJ: Right. Right.
VP: And it was quite a pretty ceremony.
CJ: Yes. Did you all still, when you were a senior, write songs to “Service” or poems that you gave to “Service?”
23
VP: We had a—you had a litany that you followed. I know I had to memorize my part, which was on Justice—and the Alethians‟ was Truth, and the Cornelian Society‟s was Love, and the Adelphians‟ was Wisdom.
CJ: Wisdom, right. Now, who wrote the lines?
VP: Well—those that had been written by—this girl who was very gifted in it. It so happened that she had—when the Dikean Society was formed, she wrote the liturgy for us—
CJ: Yes.
VP: —that we used.
CJ: Oh. So you used that right on.
VP: No, we didn‟t use—I mean, this was entirely separate from the service part.
CJ: Okay.
VP: I mean, but she had composed both liturgies that were used.
CJ: I see.
VP: And she was very gifted.
CJ: Yes.
VP: Her last name was—I never did know her. Her last name I think was Russell.
CJ: Russell. Okay.
VP: Now I don‟t know what they ever did with those liturgies that they used, but they were beautiful.
CJ: It‟s interesting you use the word “liturgy” because the first time I ever heard about Park Night and read a description of it, I said to myself, “My goodness, this is like a religious service.”
VP: Yes, you see, the culmination of it was when “Service”—I mean, when the chief one who represented “Service” was—came in. That was the culmination of all the other.
CJ: And she came in last?
VP: They came in—
CJ: Did she? 24
VP: When she came in—and then, I think—I have forgotten exactly how it went, but I think each one of these who represented the four classes and who represented the four societies, and I‟ve forgotten whether anybody else was there or not—anybody else was represented or not—each one had a speech—
CJ: Yes.
VP: —that was given every year—the same one, I mean, that this girl had composed.
CJ: Yes.
VP: And mine was on Justice.
CJ: Right. And it was like a gift that you gave—
VP: Yes.
CJ: —to Service.
VP: Yes.
CJ: I see. While we‟re on the subject of “Service,” the school‟s motto is “service,” of course. And the word “service” is in the Alma Mater and all that.
VP: Yes.
CJ: What effect did the school‟s—did the concept of service have on your life, and was it a new concept when you got to Woman‟s College, or did it reinforce things you were taught at home, and what did it mean to you in your life?
VP: I think it has always made me more willing to contribute in any way I could to any group that I was affiliated with.
CJ: Was it a new idea to you when you came to Woman‟s College?
VP: No, I had worked with, you know, groups in high school.
CJ: Yes. What did you do—what sorts of things did you do?
VP: Well, I meant that was more like just writing for the school paper, you know, and things of that sort—
CJ: Yes. Yes.
VP: —that was your own time and effort.
25
CJ: Yes. What did Woman‟s College environment do for your image of yourself as a woman, and what did it do regarding your ideas about service? How were they—how did Woman‟s College affect that?
VP: I think that it influenced my life in many ways. It made me want to contribute to any group that I was interested in. Of course, I quickly found out that if you were a full-time teacher, you didn‟t have much time to take part in many other efforts.
CJ: Yes. Yes.
VP: And particularly after you were married and continued to teach, your time was really taken up.
CJ: Yes.
VP: But it certainly made me interested in the problems of society, and I am to this day interested in—
[End Side A—Begin Side B]
CJ: You were saying that service has made you interested in current affairs and public affairs.
VP: Yes. That‟s right.
CJ: Okay.
VP: I think I‟ve tried to do my little bit from time to time, in whatever way I might help.
CJ: Okay. Well, we‟ve been talking so far about ideals, the ideal of service. Let‟s talk a little bit about some of the realities of campus life. I mean, this was not a bunch of little angels walking around all the time, although you look like angels in your yearbooks. [laughter] That was era of the “Flapper,” and the “Roaring ‟20s,” and Great Gatsby [novel by F. Scott Fitzgerald], and raccoon coats, and all that kind of stuff that we associate with the ‟20s. What memories do you have of everyday campus life and things that you did as students, and how you fit into the 1920s? You told me on the phone that you were in the era of the flappers. Were you a flapper?”
VP: We were flappers in the way we dressed, I think, more than most anything else.
CJ: [laughs] Right.
VP: It was the bobbed hair—
CJ: Yes. 26
VP: —age for women, and short dresses—
CJ: Oh, yes.
VP: —though not nearly as short as they wear them today.
CJ: No, today there‟s nothing to the imagination at all. No.
VP: No, that‟s right. And most of the girls who were there were very well behaved. I don‟t think there were more than one or two serious problems with their behavior—
CJ: No.
VP: —the whole four years that I was there. So, of course, you—and, of course, you had strict rules.
CJ: Yes.
VP: We—you had to be in the dormitories at ten o‟clock [pm]—
CJ: Oh, we did too, and that was 1966. I had to do that.
VP: —at night. Yes. And you were allowed one weekend a semester your freshman year, two weekends your sophomore year, three weekends your junior year, and it—the senior year, you were really free—you could go—leave campus four weekends a semester.
CJ: Yes. Oh, my, that is freedom, isn‟t it. Yes. Now, could you have boys on campus?
VP: Have what?
CJ: Boys come on to campus?
VP: Oh, yes. They had to—you didn‟t have any dates much—to amount—to speak of, your freshman year.
CJ: Yes.
VP: And you were limited, more or less, your sophomore year. By the time you got to be a junior and senior, you could have more dates if you wanted to, though I—it was just usually one or two—very, very few girls who dated a great deal, especially on weekend nights—I mean, on week nights. And they had to be off campus by ten o‟clock [pm].
CJ: Yes. Now, were boys allowed to come to the society parties?
VP: Yes. You would have—and then the—at “Junior-Senior”—you know, when the juniors entertained the seniors, you could bring a date. 27
CJ: Tell me about “Junior-Senior.” I‟ve never heard a good description of it. What was it, and when did it happen?
VP: Well, I guess that it was sort of a slow time because you couldn‟t dance with boys on the campus when I was there.
CJ: Yes.
VP: So you had to have more or less a formal program—
CJ: Yes.
VP: —to have something to do. But—
CJ: What time of year did the “Junior-Senior” happen?
VP: The “Junior-Senior” was usually in early May, I‟d say, and it was—but it was usually held in two dining rooms—
CJ: Yes.
VP: —because it took two to handle juniors—the sophomores and seniors and their dates.
CJ: Sophomores and seniors, or juniors and seniors?
VP: I mean, juniors and seniors.
CJ: Okay.
VP: Well, there was little senior—your little seniors—I mean—let me see, now—we entertained those seniors my sophomore year. We did something. And then the junior class entertained the seniors for the big formal affair where you invited men.
CJ: Okay.
VP: And they usually had musical numbers and maybe some sort of skits and just anything you could think of—
CJ: Yes. But no dancing.
VP: —and you carried a theme for the evening.
CJ: Yes.
VP: Maybe it was—might be Chinese or Indian or just what the committee could think of to have. 28
CJ: Yes.
VP: And we thought it was great stuff, but it must have been mighty slow. [laughs]
CJ: Did you serve refreshments and food?
VP: Oh, we had dinner.
CJ: Dinner. Oh, lovely.
VP: It was a banquet.
CJ: Oh, lovely. And no dancing.
VP: No dancing.
CJ: Yes.
VP: And you had—it was always beautifully decorated, and Miss Coolidge, who was the dietician, would really put out a beautiful meal.
CJ: Oh, how lovely. Oh, that‟s very nice.
VP: And it was a very—and we all thought it was a great occasion. I‟m not sure that they‟d think so today. [laughs]
CJ: Oh, it sounds beautiful. Everybody formally dressed?
VP: Oh, yes. You bought an evening dress for the affair.
CJ: Oh. Did the boys wear tuxedos?
VP: [pause] I don‟t think they did. I don‟t believe they did because most—see, these were—the times were still fairly prosperous when I was in college.
CJ: Yes. Yes.
VP: It was not until the next—that year—that in the fall of that year that things broke so bad.
CJ: Yes. That‟s right.
VP: And—and so you—but things were usually kept on an—inexpensive as possible and still do honor to the occasion.
29
CJ: Yes. Oh sure. Let‟s talk a little about some odds and ends of things that we haven‟t touched on yet—things like the presence of religious feeling on campus. The “Y” was a strong religious presence.
VP: That‟s right. And we had a paid director that the college paid for to handle all that. And then we had our own YWCA, and they had vespers every Sunday afternoon usually. And they—and often in the dormitories, they had a little service at ten o‟clock [pm] that maybe would last ten minutes or so—that you went down to the parlor or whatever you might call it for—in your pajamas—
CJ: Yes?
VP: —for this affair because, of course, all the men were gone—I mean it was just women on campus then.
CJ: Right. Now this was every evening?
VP: It was usually, I think, the weekday evenings.
CJ: Weekday evenings.
VP: That they had—but that was, I don‟t think, always true, but it was more or less left to the dormitories.
CJ: Yes.
VP: But most of them had some sort of a little—they‟d read maybe a poem or scripture or offer a prayer or sing a hymn or whatever you might want to make of the occasion.
CJ: Right. Did they have required chapel services?
VP: Yes. You had to—you were assigned a seat, and you better fill it.
CJ: Uh oh. [laughs]
VP: And if you weren‟t going, you‟d better get somebody to go in your place—
CJ: And occupy the body—rather, occupy the seat.
VP: —because there were proctors who checked the seats, and if seat number thirty-two on row eight wasn‟t occupied, you‟d better have a good reason for it not to be occupied.
CJ: So that didn‟t matter so much that you were in the seat, it‟s that some body was in the seat.
30
VP: Some body was there—but, oftentimes—well, not often either, but occasionally you—it didn‟t suit you maybe to go on—I was assigned always to go on Mondays because my name started with Batte, the early alphabet, and so I always would have a Monday. And if it didn‟t suit me to go on Monday, I‟d get somebody who would go on Tuesday—
CJ: Substitute. Switch off.
VP: —to swap with me.
CJ: Yes.
VP: And she‟d go to occupy that seat, and then I‟d occupy hers the next day.
CJ: I see. So it was—
VP: But many of the programs for chapel, you wanted to go to.
CJ: Yes. What were they like?
VP: They were—there‟d be some entertainment ones. And every year the student body had the—what did they call that chapel service? But anyway, they mocked all of the programs that had been on campus that year—
CJ: Oh. [laughs]
VP: —serious and otherwise.
CJ: Senior Day? Was that Senior Day?
VP: It was the senior class, I believe—
CJ: Senior Class Day?
VP: The senior class did it.
CJ: Right. Right.
VP: And I tell you—anybody—you just would walk across the county almost to get to that because it was a scream.
CJ: [laughing] I‟ll bet. I‟ll bet it was.
VP: A Russian choir had given a program at the college the year that I graduated, and I happened to be one of those—we all dressed up—and we somehow, we got red raincoats and put all kind of braid and everything on them like the Russians had worn.
31
CJ: Yes.
VP: And we all got up there, and we sang like we thought the Russians sang.
CJ: Oh, my goodness. [laughs]
VP: It was a scream.
CJ: I bet it was.
VP: And, of course, they took the parts of the faculty. Usually they had some sort of mock faculty meeting of some sort.
CJ: Oh, wonderful.
VP: And we had—I know the year that—one year I went to the Senior Recital, I believe that‟s what they called it.
CJ: Okay.
VP: Then one of the faculty members was dating another faculty member.
CJ: Mmm.
VP: And, of course, we—as college girls, we knew it, and so when we took him off, we had him just turn around and just look at her and smile. [laughter] It was all good-natured fun, and if any in the faculty ever objected to seeing themselves as others saw them, [laughs] they never did say so. It was always good-natured fun, you know, and all.
CJ: Oh, yes.
VP: And it was a scream.
CJ: It sounds great. Oh, it just sounds great.
VP: It‟s something that I think should always be done.
CJ: Yes. At the end of the year, was it?
VP: It was at the end of the year.
CJ: Yes. So each of you—let me get this straight—each of you was assigned one day a week to go to chapel.
VP: Yes.
32
CJ: I see. Were you also assigned a literary society membership, or could you choose?
VP: You could—they chose you.
CJ: They chose you. And so by the time you came as a freshman, you‟d already been assigned to—?
VP: No. I, you—you got your bid later on in the year. It may have been after Christmas. I have forgotten exactly when you got those bids and joined.
CJ: Right. Right.
VP: And sometimes maybe you thought you‟d rather have joined another one, but you took the one that you were assigned to.
CJ: You took that one. I see.
VP: And it usually worked out all right.
CJ: Yes. Well, now, I can think of a few little things like class jackets, smoking on campus, and whether or not anybody came in late after hours.
VP: Well, occasionally the night watchman would catch somebody coming in, and then you would have to appear before the student government—
CJ: Uh, oh.
VP: —group to account for yourself.
CJ: Yes.
VP: And it was a serious matter. I mean, the student body didn‟t break those rules, very many people, because you were usually campused, and you might even be sent home. And so, it was—people didn‟t break the rules very much.
CJ: Right, right.
VP: And I never saw any liquor on campus—
CJ: Okay.
VP: —the whole four years I was there.
CJ: What about smoking?
33
VP: A very few girls smoked. Occasionally you would go in the bathroom and smell a little ciga—smell where a cigarette had been, but it was not very often and didn‟t many girls smoke at all during that time.
CJ: Did—was it forbidden? Smoking on campus?
VP: Yes. You were not supposed to smoke—
CJ: Okay.
VP: —and certainly you were not supposed to drink.
CJ: Okay. Now what about class jackets and class rings and all that?
VP: Yes—we—you got your class jacket in your sophomore year—
CJ: Yes.
VP: —and the year—the day you got them, then your class, the sophomore class, marched through all the dining rooms that night—
CJ: Oh.
VP: —to show off your jacket. I had a purple—the year we had them, they were purple knit pullover sweaters, I guess you‟d call them with a great big white “28” on them.
CJ: Yes. Well, now.
VP: And we thought they were beautiful. [laughs]
CJ: Those sweater jackets were real popular in the ‟20s, weren‟t they? They sold them at the department stores downtown.
VP: Oh, I have—I still have a college sweater.
CJ: You still have a sweater.
VP: No, not—I mean, what they called a college sweater. Mine‟s black. I mean, it‟s just one to wear. But I meant the class jacket was purple—was a pullover with a “28” in white on it.
CJ: Do you have your class jacket?
VP: No. No. I don‟t know what happened to it. And then the rings you got your junior year at the very end of the year after you had passed all your work, so to speak.
34
CJ: Yes. Yes.
VP: Then you were—you got your college rings.
CJ: Right. I want to ask about the “Y” one more time. Did you know Dr. Wilmina Rowland [?]?
VP: No.
CJ: Okay.
VP: That couldn‟t by any chance be Wilhelmina Wheelan, could it?
CJ: No. No.
VP: I had a girl in my class named Wilhelmina Wheelan.
CJ: No. Willie Rowland, I think, was director in the ‟30s.
VP: Yes.
CJ: And there was a director also in the early ‟20s—and the “Y” directors on campus—those two of them were known for taking some pretty big steps toward social reform, and they—two of them got fired because they went too far too fast.
VP: That must not have been in my day because I think I would have heard about it.
CJ: Yes. You would have heard about it. Let me think, now. Was there a dress code on campus?
VP: [pause] It seems to me there were a few regulations about what you could—they considered all that part of the west—where Foust—isn‟t that the name of that—the old building there?
CJ: Yes. Foust. Right.
VP: Where Foust—that part—and McIver Building next to it—that was considered the “front campus”—
CJ: Yes.
VP: —and perhaps there‟d be some restriction on what you wore when you were on that part of the campus—
CJ: Yes.
35
VP: —but I don‟t think there was any restriction, particularly, on what you wore back in the dormitory section.
CJ: Right.
VP: In the quadrangle—all back there.
CJ: Did you wear—what did you wear to go pick the daisies?
VP: Something that was old and you didn‟t think much of. [laughs]
CJ: Right. Could it be—like overalls or something like that?
VP: Well, I don‟t think there were—I don‟t remember girls having overalls there.
CJ: Right.
VP: There were all [coughs] shapes and sizes of knickers—
CJ: Oh yes.
VP: —mostly, and oh, maybe some kind of pants. But our gym outfits, you know, were those beautiful bloomers.
CJ: Those lovely bloomers, yes. They are love—they are, actually, pretty nice looking. They must have been hot, ooh.
VP: I didn‟t ever think they were very nice looking. They were black—
CJ: Right.
VP: And they were—must have had about three yards in them. I mean, they were huge.
CJ: Real blousy.
VP: Yes. Real blousy. And with them you wore a white top.
CJ: Yes. Were they hot?
VP: And you wore those—but if you took—if you took rhythmics, I mean, you had those cute little almost nothing little things that you wore. I mean, they just—they were almost two pieces of cloth fastened together at the shoulder and around the arms some way, and then you flitted around in those. [laughs]
CJ: Kind of like dancing?
36
VP: Yes. It was—they called it rhythmics.
CJ: Rhythmics. And physical education was required for all four years?
VP: Oh, for three years.
CJ: Three years. Yes.
VP: And I took—during that time I took soccer. I took swimming. I took rhythmics. And I think one time I even took something they called interpretive dancing or something of the sort.
CJ: Oh, yes.
VP: You took whatever was offered—whatever you could work in—
CJ: Yes.
VP: —your class. I never was very—I took the gym because I had to. I didn‟t ever take it because I wanted to.
CJ: Right. Well, while you were there the Rosenthal Gym was dedicated in 1928.
VP: [Elizabeth] Liz Rosenthal, his daughter, was there in class. She was class of ‟27, I think.
CJ: Oh, her daddy died in 1927.
VP: Well, I think she was in the class of ‟27, as I remember.
CJ: Yes.
VP: Liz Rosenthal was—I mean, I knew her. She was a very attractive young lady.
CJ: Where did—let‟s get back a bit to chapel services. Where did you hold chapel until Aycock [Auditorium] was finished?
VP: In Old Students‟ [Building].
CJ: Old Students‟.
VP: And see, they had to do everything twice.
CJ: Why was that?
VP: Because it wasn‟t room for us. See, that auditorium just held half of us.
37
CJ: Oh.
VP: Whenever they had a student government meeting, half went one night and half the next night.
CJ: Until they built Aycock?
VP: Yes.
CJ: Yes. And Aycock was built your junior year.
VP: And we were the first class, as I recall, to graduate from—in Aycock.
CJ: That would have made sense because Aycock was finished in ‟27. That may have been right.
VP: Yes. I can‟t remember whether it was the class of ‟27 or the class of ‟28 that graduated first in what‟s now the big auditorium.
CJ: Big auditorium.
VP: See, then they could all go at one time.
CJ: Yes.
VP: But they can‟t now—
CJ: No.
VP: —I wouldn‟t think.
CJ: No.
VP: But we used—they had us all divided, and you had—when they had those student government meetings that they wanted to tell you some rules and regulations and so on, you were required to go.
CJ: Yes.
VP: And so you were assigned a seat, and just like I said—if they had a chapel that was a religious service or something of the sort, that was optional. But if they—if it was something that they wanted you to know, it was required.
CJ: Right. I‟m going to shift gears just a little bit and ask you about any differences you encountered after you graduated between attitudes toward women at Woman‟s College, that the faculty and the students had about what a woman could do with her life—the 38
difference between that and the real world—getting out and trying to do what you wanted to do with your life. Was there any sense of the real world after graduation being a shock, where you had been told at school that women could be their own person and could do almost anything they wanted to do, and then you ran into barriers or double standards as you get out? Did you have any of that experience?
VP: By the time I taught—five days a week, and taught a different class every hour—I didn‟t have much time to worry about anybody else‟s problems. I had enough of my own. [laughs]
CJ: Right. Right. But you didn‟t—
VP: And then I usually had a date almost every night with this young man that I had met soon after I came here. And so—but I was always interested in what was going on. I don‟t know that I took such an active part in it because, as I said, there just wasn‟t enough time or strength left to do much else.
CJ: Did you run into any barriers doing what you wanted to do with your life because you were a woman?
VP: I can‟t say that I have.
CJ: Yes. Right.
VP: Now, I never did aspire to run for mayor.
CJ: No? No.
VP: You know, or any of that sort of thing, I don‟t know. But most all the towns now, you could certainly run for mayor or anything else you wanted to run for.
CJ: Right. There‟s been a lot of change, hasn‟t there?
VP: Yes. Yes.
CJ: Well, I was thinking of Marjorie Craig, Class of 1919, who left a diary. Her summer after she graduated, she went up to a little town on the Dan River and took a job as a newspaper reporter. And there was a bunch of junk in the downtown area, and she wrote some editorials asking the city fathers to clean up the mess. Oh. She got into a lot of trouble because she had come in as an outsider and had dared to tell these men what to do with their junk. And the letter to the editor took her apart and went after her and the women‟s suffrage movement and the whole thing. And so she quit her job, and she went back to something that wasn‟t quite so public. And she said, “I‟d realized that was seemed normal at Woman‟s College was masculinely aggressive at this little town on the Dan River.” So she ran right up against the double standard, you know. And I was just wondering if you had ever encountered that. 39
VP: No.
CJ: I don‟t believe so.
VP: I don‟t believe so.
CJ: Yes.
VP: I don‟t know as I ever ti—reti—tried to move out the junk— [laughs]
CJ: No.
VP: —time I had moved out my own junk, I had just about done all I wanted to do. [laughs]
CJ: Well, tell me about your life after you graduated. What happened to you in the years between now and when you graduated from Woman‟s College?
VP: Oh, much has happened. I‟ve been married four times; buried four husbands.
CJ: Oh, dear.
VP: And that explains a lot of my life between 1928 and now.
CJ: Yes, it does. Do you have any final memories of friends on campus or professors or experiences that you‟d like to close the tape with—that you want us to be sure and cover so we don‟t forget them—something you‟ll wish you‟d told me an hour from now when I leave?
VP: My four years at Woman‟s College were certainly the most—some of the most important years of my life. I‟ve enjoyed the friendships that I made there among the faculty and among the students, and I still enjoy seeing some of those people even now. It gave me a knowledge of the world that has enabled me to play a more vital part in it and one from which I‟ve enjoyed a great deal of pleasure. And I feel very, very indebted for the privilege and the pleasure of going to what‟s now UNCG—and especially being a member of the class of ‟28. [laughs]
CJ: Yes. Do you get to reunions?
VP: Yes. In fact, I‟ve had to make them up most of the time because Teenie, our Everlasting President, died almost right after we graduated—I don‟t mean the first year, but I‟d say she died within three or four years after we graduated. And then the person that was elected vice president—I don‟t know why they ever elected her or why she ever took it. I don‟t mean that in a critical way, but she—because she wasn‟t particularly interested in the class, and so that sort of faded out. And she‟s now dead. And the sophomore was Frances Gibson [Satterfield, Class of 1928] who later lived—“Gibby” we called her, and she was very active in our class. She edited the paper and all. 40
CJ: Francine Gibby?
VP: Frances. Frances.
CJ: Frances.
VP: Everybody called her “Gibby.”
CJ: Gibbon?
VP: Gibson was her last name.
CJ: Frances Gibson. Okay.
VP: And she was Mrs. Satterfield, I believe, after she married. She married the first year we graduated. And she‟s dead. And I was the treasurer. And I‟m the only one of the permanent officers living.
CJ: Oh, my goodness. Roughly how many from your class are still living?
VP: I don‟t know. The last time we had a reunion, we had about—we had twenty-odd back. But that was just a few years ago, so that‟s not bad. All of them—somebody had to bring all of them, most of them—
CJ: That‟s not bad.
VP: —and all. And it‟s been—see, in ‟98 it‟ll be seventy years.
CJ: That‟s not bad at all, my dear, not bad at all.
VP: See, I‟m eighty-nine. And I was one of the five youngest ones in my class. They were—five of us graduated at twenty. Gibby was one of them. My roommate was one of them, [Margaret] “Fuzzy” Beam [Lins, Class of 1928], and Teenie Welton, I mean Katherine Taylor, was one of them—she was one. But there were five of us who were still twenty, and everybody else was twenty-one.
CJ: And you entered at sixteen and graduated at twenty.
VP: Yes.
CJ: Wow. Oh, my.
VP: And so, we were young.
CJ: You were young; you were.
41
VP: I had skipped the second grade, coming along.
CJ: And you finished high school early.
VP: I finished at—I was what? Just sixteen—
CJ: Yes. That‟s right.
VP: —when I finished. And now they‟re all eighteen—
CJ: That‟s right.
VP: —when they finish.
CJ: Well, do you have any thoughts about where you‟d like to see UNCG go in the future as a school, and any impressions of—your hopes for UNCG in the future?
VP: Well, when I went there, it was considered one of the top women‟s colleges that you could go to anywhere.
CJ: That‟s true.
VP: And it—sometimes it‟s worried me that maybe now it doesn‟t get the recognition, maybe, that it got then. See, it‟s become just another part of the university—I mean, just another one of the sixteen schools—
CJ: Yes.
VP: —in the system. And since girls can go to Chapel Hill, I think that‟s where all of them want to go now. I—one little—one young girl that I know rather well in Winston-Salem, she didn‟t even apply to go there. She was accepted at Chapel Hill, and you would have thought she had reached the moon. [laughs] That was where she always—they all aspire to go. I can‟t much blame them because I think Chapel Hill is a great, wonderful place. But I‟d like to see Woman‟s College have its day in the sun too.
CJ: Right. Right. Have you had a chance to talk with Chancellor [Patricia] Sullivan about her vision for the school?
VP: I have met her several times—
CJ: Yes.
VP: —and like her very much.
CJ: Yes. Yes.
42
VP: I think she seems to be getting along very well over there.
CJ: Yes. I do too. Well, I‟ll give you one last chance to say something you‟ll wish you‟d said if I leave, so do you have any last thoughts for us?
VP: I think I‟ve about said it all, don‟t you. [laughs]
CJ: I think you have. Thank you so much.
VP: Well, I hope I‟ve told you some of the things that you wanted to know.
CJ: Well, anything you have to tell me is what I wanted to hear because you were there. I wasn‟t there, and your memories are the most important thing. This has been wonderful. And I thank you, and I think we‟ll turn off this machine.
VP: All right.
CJ: All right.
[recording paused]
VP: You want to tape it? [laughs]
CJ: That‟s okay. Yes. You were telling me that—this is—we‟re going to turn the tape back on now because we‟re chatting after the interview, and you were talking about being there the last year that Mrs. Gertrude—Miss Gertrude Mendenhall [head of the math department]—taught. She was one of the original faculty members.
VP: Now, I took freshman math the last year that she taught under her.
CJ: Okay.
VP: Now—are you recording this?
CJ: Yes, ma‟am. Yes. Yes, I am. [laughs] You may—don‟t say anything you‟re not comfortable saying.
VP: Well, I‟m just—I was just going to say she just taught the first semester, and I really don‟t think that she was physically able to teach that last semester.
CJ: Yes.
VP: We were all freshmen. Math was elective at Woman‟s College for freshmen. You could take that or biology. 43
CJ: Yes.
VP: And not many people chose to take the math.
CJ: Yes.
VP: And most of them—a lot of them in there—had come from high schools up north, where they‟d had five years of math—
CJ: Oh.
VP: —and where they were much better prepared than North Carolina girls were. And really, you got thrown in mighty deep water.
CJ: Ooh. Real fast.
VP: Yes.
CJ: Yes. I understand.
VP: And Miss Mendenhall was a fine teacher, I‟m sure in her day, but she was not very patient—
CJ: Oh, dear. Okay.
VP: —with us lowly freshmen, or at least we thought she wasn‟t then.
CJ: Right. Well, you touched on something that I would like to ask you. You said a good number of the girls came from schools in the North. What was your impression of how much the student body was from the North and how much from North Carolina?
VP: Some of the most outstanding girls in our class and all came from—out of North Carolina. Of course the dominant group was from North Carolina.
CJ: Right.
VP: But we had quite a few from other places. And even in North Carolina, the schools in the bigger cities like Winston-Salem or Raleigh or Greensboro—
CJ: Or Charlotte.
VP: Charlotte. They had more math classes than people in—especially the smaller schools, even, that I went to.
CJ: Oh, sure. Sure. Where were some of the girls from who were from out of the state?
44
VP: Well, some of the most outstanding ones came from Virginia.
CJ: Yes.
VP: And then we had some from New York. One of my best friends was from New York. And just—I had one from Texas. Her mother was from North Carolina, so she sent her daughter back to UNCG.
CJ: How about that. That‟s great. Well, that‟s the end of this little addition.
VP: But Miss Mendenhall was a very fine friend, and, I mean in many ways—and she invited another girl and me over one afternoon, as she frequently did in the early part of the semester, to have—to come and have tea with her.
CJ: Oh, wonderful.
VP: And she lived right where—they‟ve torn down her house now, but it was right along over there where Curry [Building] is now.
CJ: Yes, ma‟am. Yes.
VP: And where maybe that art—the art—what is it? The Weatherspoon?
CJ: The Weatherspoon [Art] Gallery.
VP: Right along in there, there were a group of houses that they‟ve all been torn down now. But Miss Mendenhall lived in one of those. So you could step across the campus and see her. But she, as I said, she—I‟m sure she was a brilliant teacher. But she was not there for a good part of the time, and she was just physically not able to teach that last semester.
CJ: Well, all those stories about her inviting you to her house—that‟s all very important and interesting to have on the tape, and I‟m really glad we‟ve got it.
VP: Well, I went there and had tea with her and had a real good time because—you can imagine what many attractive things she had in her house and all.
CJ: Oh, yes. Oh, yes.
VP: And she was—she must have been—of course, she seemed ancient to me as—when I was sixteen. [laughs]
CJ: Yes. Yes.
VP: [coughs] But she was way up in years.
CJ: Yes. Well, she was one of the first faculty members. 45
VP: She was the fac—on the original faculty.
CJ: Yes. She was.
VP: She and Miss [Cornelia] Strong [professor of math and astronomy] and Miss [Mary] Petty I think, was one of them, a chemistry teacher.
CJ: Were they still there when you were in college?
VP: Yes. They were there when I was there. But they were still going strong. Miss Strong taught, I think, maybe the whole time I was there.
CJ: Oh, my. Did you have class with her?
VP: No, I did not have a class under her, but she—everything was fine. I never heard any criticism of her.
CJ: No?
VP: And Miss Petty was there, I think. I mean, she was the head of the chemistry department and was considered a fine teacher.
CJ: Oh, yes.
VP: And my roommate majored in chemistry.
CJ: Right.
VP: So I used to hear a lot of stories about Miss Petty—about what Miss Petty did and what Miss Petty didn‟t do.
CJ: Well, now, was the faculty accessible to students, and did they befriend students in general? Or was Miss Mendenhall an exception?
VP: I think—now, Dr. [Benjamin] Kendrick [history professor] used to entertain each of his classes at a bridge party every spring.
CJ: Oh, my.
VP: In his home.
CJ: How nice.
VP: And that was a great occasion.
CJ: Yes. Well, in general, do you think that the faculty was accessible to students, or—? 46
VP: Yes, I think most of them were. In fact, my freshman year, I had to go individually and have a session with my advisor at regular intervals.
CJ: Oh, good. Who was your advisor? Did you say?
VP: The—who was it, my freshman—I know I had Dr. Jackson my last two years, and then—
CJ: Okay.
VP: I cannot remember right now—
CJ: That‟s okay. That‟s okay.
VP: —who it was I had—I had to go to see.
CJ: That‟s all right. Were there—was there—were there a good number of female faculty members?
VP: Well, I think—seems to me most of them were.
CJ: Okay. Yes. Yes.
VP: And they were—of course, as you got up in your junior year and senior years you had many more male professors—
CJ: Okay.
VP: —and the heads of the departments and that sort of thing.
CJ: So there were more full professors and heads of the department who were men?
VP: Yes.
CJ: I see.
VP: Yes.
CJ: I see. Okay.
VP: I would say.
CJ: Okay. Well, those are great stories, and I think we‟ll turn off the tape and let you rest. [laughs] You‟ve been talking a long time. Thank you.
VP: Now is there anything else you want to ask me about?
47
CJ: No, dear, I don‟t think so.
VP: I think—
CJ: Think we‟ve exhausted everything I thought of. Have you got anything else?
VP: I don‟t think so. But this is—I know you‟ve gotten this story from somebody else—about when [Franklin D.] Roosevelt [32nd President of the United States] called and wanted to speak to Miss Harriet Elliott.
CJ: Oh, tell me about that.
VP: And I heard it—I mean, it didn‟t happen while I was there because, see, this was during the war years.
CJ: Oh, right. Right.
VP: And I‟ve often heard about it—what great consternation he caused when the voice on the other end of the phone said that President Roosevelt was calling Miss Harriet Elliott—
CJ: Whew.
VP: —to ask her to come to Washington [DC].
CJ: Yes. Yes. During the war, right?
VP: Yes. That‟s why—yes. I know she went.
CJ: Yes, she did.
VP: When she had her stroke, her last days, she came to Bowman Gray [Hospital, Winston-Salem, North Carolina], and I went to see her—
CJ: Oh, you did?
VP: —a number of times.
CJ: Oh, you did.
VP: You know, while she was over there.
CJ: Tell me about that. What was that like?
VP: One of the doctors on the case said to me one day—he hadn‟t—I didn‟t know him well, but I knew who he was, and he knew I had come—that—I met him—I mean, I was—I don‟t—we were in Miss Elliott‟s—I mean—weren‟t in the room—must have been in the 48
hall outside the room, and he was her doctor. And he was—Dr. Jeffries, I believe, was his name. I wouldn‟t swear to that though. And—and he asked me about her, and he said, “Well, she certainly has reacted to these problems that she‟s having now in a most intelligent way.”
CJ: So you saw her very shortly before she died.
VP: Oh, yes. And then they took her from there, I think, as I remember, they took her—she went back to Illinois where her sister lived—
CJ: Okay.
VP: —and she died out there, I know.
CJ: Yes. Did you know that she deliberately kept her voter registration in Illinois until women won the vote, maybe even after, because she could vote in Illinois state elections.
VP: And she couldn‟t vote in North Carolina.
CJ: Couldn‟t vote in North Carolina. Right. Right. Well that‟s—
VP: Well, I‟m not surprised.
CJ: No. No.
VP: Because she was—I tell you, and you couldn‟t help but absorb a little of her fire.
CJ: Yes.
VP: And she wasn‟t one of these—and men liked her.
CJ: Yes. Yes.
VP: She wasn‟t one of these ones [makes a noise]—you know, that kind of a woman.
CJ: Belligerent.
VP: She was very—she had a great deal of charm and a lot of fem—a very feminine person. And men liked her.
CJ: Yes. She wasn‟t—
VP: And they respected her for what she knew.
CJ: Yes. She wasn‟t belligerent at all. No. Well—
49
VP: No. But she—it was right funny how when she talked. She‟d sort of—her chair had a slat in it—
CJ: Yes.
VP: —and as she sort of put one foot up on that slat, you know, and all that jazz, and she always had that newspaper sort of rolled up, and she‟d slam it around. [laughs] She was a—it was—her class was a—it wasn‟t any chore to go to. It was a pleasure.
CJ: Oh, that‟s wonderful. That‟s the way it should be.
VP: And so was Dr. Jackson‟s.
CJ: Yes. Yes. Well, I think we‟re going to turn the tape off now.
VP: I hope that you recorded some of his stories.
CJ: I don‟t know whether anybody did or not, but these that you‟ve told me are wonderful. Do you remember some of his stories?
VP: No, I think—well, he just told you so many little—he read—he knew—was so familiar with the biographies of all these men that you‟d be studying and all. And you know—did you ever—I don‟t reckon—you were too young to ever be exposed to his class—that one- hour course he taught. Even after he became president, I think he taught it for a while.
CJ: No—what was it?
VP: It was a one hour course that he taught once a week—in—on—you‟d just go there and listen.
CJ: Oh. What was it on?
VP: Biographies.
CJ: That sounds wonderful.
VP: It was.
CJ: Oh. Oh, my. That sounds wonderful.
VP: Did you—you d—you didn‟t ever know him, did you?
CJ: No. I—
VP: He had twinkling eyes—
50
CJ: Yes.
VP: And he was good looking.
CJ: Yes.
VP: And had a—and his face was very expressive. Oh, I—[laughs]—don‟t put this on the tape. This is—this is—
CJ: You‟ve got a good story. Well now, can‟t I please?
VP: [laughs] This is—I want to—
CJ: Oh, let me tape it. [laughs]
VP: Now, listen to this.
CJ: I‟m—the tape is running now.
VP: Oh, is it?
CJ: Yes. [laughs]
VP: Well, I‟m going to tell it then, and you can just cut it out of the tape.
CJ: No, I‟m not going to cut it out of the tape, not unless you really want me to, but I—but if the tape‟s on, let‟s do it.
VP: Dr. Jackson had us seated alphabetically—
CJ: Yes, ma‟am. Yes.
VP: —in his class. And because my last name started with a “B,” I was always on the front row. [laughs] And my roommate and maybe my best college friend, her name started with a “B” too, so—
CJ: What was her name?
VP: Beam, “Fuzzy”—Margaret Beam from Asheville. And her mother was Mrs. [Annie Beam] Funderburk [Class of 1912] there at the college all those—I mean, her aunt all those years.
CJ: Mary Sue Beam [Fonville, Class of 1923]?
VP: Mary Sue Beam‟s niece.
51
CJ: Niece. Okay.
VP: Well, anyway, Fuzzy and I were seated right in front of Dr. Jackson‟s desk, which was nothing but a table.
CJ: Okay.
VP: And we were always—we just had those little one-armed chairs.
CJ: Yes.
VP: And we‟d pile our books up on his table.
CJ: I see.
VP: Well, those in front—who sat right in front of him just like I‟m sitting in front of you—we‟d—about three or four of us would pile—
CJ: Yes.
VP: [gestures]—that many books, each one of us, up in front of him there.
CJ: That‟s before the days of the backpack, right?
VP: Yes.
CJ: Yes.
VP: And so we‟d pile all those up when we‟d come to class. And Dr. Jackson came in a little early one day. And at that time the YWCA had a very prominent man making a series of lectures there over one weekend that—it was—. I think maybe they did that about once or twice a year; they‟d have a visiting person come. And I said to him, “Dr. Jackson, have you been to hear Dr. Crew?” —I‟ll call him. I don‟t remember what his name was.
And he said, “No,” says, “But I‟ve been hearing about him, and I hope I‟ll get to hear him while he‟s here.” And I said, “Well, some of us think that he reminds us of you.” And Fuzzy, by that time, was just rocking in her chair, just like this [rocks]—one of those little „ole lightweight chairs. And she—and I said, “He reminds us of you.” And Fuzzy said, “Oh, Dr. Jackson, he‟s just wonderful.” [laughs] And with that, her chair scooted out from under her—
CJ: Oh, no.
VP: —and she landed right square at his feet—
CJ: Oh, no.
52
VP: —under the table.
CJ: Oh, no. Oh, my goodness.
VP: She scooted right under that table.
CJ: Oh.
VP: And she landed right at his feet.
CJ: Oh, my goodness.
VP: Well, everybody in the class was there by that time, and they all just howled. And, of course, Fuzzy was one of these sort of—she could roll those eyes around and make you think you were wonderful. “Oh, Dr. Jackson, he‟s just wonderful.” And with that she scooted—the chair went out from under her, and she scooted right at his feet. [laughs] He got up to come around and help her up—
CJ: Yes.
VP: —knocked every one of those books off on her.
CJ: Oh, no. Oh, that was quite a scene, wasn‟t it? Oh, my goodness.
VP: Yes. And he—we all were so tickled by that time. We‟d try to get her up, and all we could do was this, you know. [makes a pulling gesture]
CJ: Pull on her dress, right. Well, did she ever get up on her feet?
VP: Oh, we finally got—but we all were laughing and hollering—I never heard so much commotion.
CJ: My goodness.
VP: Miss Elliott‟s office was about two doors down the hall. She comes down there to see what had happened.
CJ: Oh, for heaven‟s sake. You know, I‟ll bet Dr. Jackson remembered that to his dying day. I bet he did.
VP: I‟m sure he did. Bet everybody who ever saw it— [laug
hs] We didn‟t have a class that day. When we got Fuzzy up on her feet, we all went and left.
CJ: That‟s the second time—
VP: Nobody could teach a class after that. 53
CJ: And that‟s the second time. No—who was it—
[tape ends, but interview continues]
Summary of conversation after tape ran out:
Conversation about the incident with Dr. Jackson ended soon after this. Mrs. Phillips then related the following two stories about campus traditions:
Tree Day:
This took place on the Saturday before Commencement each year during her years there. (Commencement Weekend was a four-day affair consisting of Park Night on Friday evening, Class Day and Tree Night on Saturday, Baccalaureate on Sunday, and Commencement on Monday—nearly all students had already left, leaving the graduating seniors and a contingent of their sophomore “Little Sisters” on campus, along with family, faculty, and friends).
Mrs. Phillips recalled that sometime during the freshman year, each class would acquire a sapling to plant somewhere on campus after hours (around 10:30 [pm]) one night. The tree‟s location would be known only to the members of the freshman class. Then four years later on Tree Night, the now-graduating seniors would reveal the location of their tree by leading family, friends, and faculty to it. The gathering at the tree followed a formal program, and Mrs. Phillips recalls “a pretty good crowd” assembled, about half of whom were guests. The Class of 1928 planted a maple sapling in front of the old McIver Building, with a slab marker installed on Tree Night. The tree seems to have disappeared.
Society Marshal Badges:
One of the greatest honors a Woman‟s College student could have was to be chosen by her society as a marshal (usher) for Commencement. Mrs. Phillips was chosen to be a Dikean Society marshal in her junior year. Each marshal had to acquire a white formal gown for the occasion. She reports that they usually bought the gowns from a retiring marshal, since they were made of peau silk and were fairly expensive otherwise. Each girl then had to make a badge in the class colors to be worn on the regalia sash, diagonally over the chest. The retiring marshals taught the incoming ones how to embroider the badges. After making her badge, each marshal would choose her favorite friends and faculty members to write messages on laundry cards. She would not read the messages then, but would choose someone to affix the badge to the message cards. At her own Commencement, whether it be that year if she was a senior, or the next if she was a junior, each marshal would find some time alone after Commencement to read the messages on the cards. Mrs. Phillips‟s badge was lavender and white, the colors of the Class of 1928, and she no longer has her badge, although she kept it for many years.
Comparing Dr. Jackson‟s personality to the late Charles Kuralt:
Mrs. Phillips said, “You know, Dr. Jackson was like Charles Kuralt [American journalist]—he could charm the paper off the wall, and wasn‟t anyone who didn‟t like him.”
[End of Interview]