Oral history interview with Eleanor Dare Taylor Kennedy, 1991 [text/print transcript]

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UNCG CENTENNIAL ORAL HISTORY PROJECT COLLECTION
INTERVIEWEE: Eleanor Dare Taylor Kennedy
INTERVIEWER: Missy Foy
DATE: February 5, 1991
[Begin Side A]
MF: If you could start by giving a little bit of general information about yourself like where you're
from and when you went to WC [Woman’s College of the University of North Carolina], et
cetera.
EK: Yes. I was born in Burlington, North Carolina, and moved to Greensboro when I was nine
years old. Went to the public schools here and graduated from Greensboro Senior High
School in 1941.
MF: That's Grimsley now?
EK: Now Grimsley, correct. I was brought up to assume that I'd always go to college, although
those were [Great] Depression [severe worldwide economic downturn preceding World War
II] years when I would have been really thinking about college. My family, basically, had no
money and when I babysat and did that sort of thing I tried to save a little money. But finally
I ended up applying for a UDC [United Daughters of the Confederacy] scholarship, which I
did not receive, and the reason they gave was that I was such a hard worker that they
believed I could get to college without that scholarship. So I was very grateful that my
teachers over at the high school felt that I should have some scholarship help, so a very
wealthy Greensboro man, Mr. Britt Armfield, whose wife [Jane Harris Armfield, Class of
1960, 1977 honorary degree] and sister-in-law [Emily Harris Preyer, Class of 1939] and
probably other members of his family had gone to what was then WC, and he said, "Yes," he
would be delighted to pay my tuition, which surprisingly enough was about a hundred and
twenty dollars either a semester or a year at that time. I'm ashamed that I can't remember
whether it was a year or a semester.
And so he paid my tuition and then by continuing to work and apply what money I
could earn to my books and my other fees, I was able to go as a town student entering as a
freshman in the fall of 1941. I had hoped to be able to move on campus at some point, and
finally I was able—I informed Mr. Armfield at the beginning of my junior year that I thought
I would be able to pay my own expenses, but he was such a generous man he insisted on
continuing to provide me the tuition scholarship. So then I notified the school that I'd like to
move on campus the beginning of my junior year, however there was no room for me. By
then—by the time I felt I could afford it, they were all full. And so at the beginning of
second semester my junior year, another friend and I—her name was Lois Hutton [Class of
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1945]; she's now Mrs. Harold Keels—were able to move into rooms vacated by two home
ec[onomics] majors—into a room vacated by two home ec majors who were living in the
home practice house, Home Management House. So when they finished their nine-week
stint in the home management house, we moved into another room where two other students
moved into the home management house. So I was able to live on campus the second
semester of my junior year, and then I lived on campus my senior year.
MF: That's kind of a journey around campus, there, yes.
EK: Yes. Right. Yes, I lived in Weil [Residence Hall] my—that second semester of my junior
year, and then senior year, I had a different roommate, Dottie Arnett Dixon [Class of 1945],
whose father had been a professor at WC. And Dorothy, I'm sorry to say, has—well, died a
few years ago of cancer. At any rate, we lived in Woman's [dormitory] and, unfortunately,
Woman's was demolished about ten or fifteen years ago. It was a wonderful old dorm with
great big rooms and a wonderful big upstairs porch where we all slept when the first breath
of spring appeared. [laughs] It was a great, great dorm. We loved it.
MF: I think that's the dorm that somebody was telling me they dragged their bed out onto the
porch.
EK: We did. Yes. We took our beds out on the porch, and it was a small dorm so that we were
very close. It was really a delightful experience. A lot of the residents of that dorm were
involved in student government. And so we had a lot in common and had a great time in that
dorm.
MF: Yes. I wish I could remember who had told me that. I can think of her face and where she
lives, and her husband's a congressman from this area.
EK: Was or is?
MF: Is.
EK: Oh, is. Then I don't know. But—
MF: I just drew a blank on her name.
EK: No. I don't know who [unclear]
MF: Anyway, but she had told me really a lot of stories about dragging the beds out on the porch
and sleeping out there even when it snowed.
EK: Even when it was cold, yes. And my roommate was so cold natured. I can remember her
now with just barely her little face showing and just mountains of covers over her. Yes. That
was lots of fun. We also had a wonderful basement in Woman's. And I can remember—I
was a sociology major—and I can remember my senior year, I had something like seven
papers due at one time. And I was a terrible—and still am—procrastinator, and I can
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remember writing most of those seven papers over a period of about thirty-six hours in that
basement, typing them. And my roommate would bring me coffee and sandwiches to keep
me going. [laughs] The basement was a great place to get away and be quiet and do your
work.
MF: Yes. I procrastinate that way too. Work better under pressure, right?
EK: Right. Yes. That's the only way I can work.
MF: That's what I tell people. It's not procrastination. You just work better under pressure.
EK: The things I had done in working to get ready—I don't know if this is pertinent, but I not
only had babysat, but when I was fourteen, I went to work in a men's clothing store here
named Vanstory's. It's no longer in business. Just at holiday time. And then I got a job in
Belk—Belk Department Store and worked the summer before I started to school. And I
hated every minute of it, but it gave me some good fodder for writing a paper when I was in
freshman English. But in the White Oak Mill community here in Greensboro there was a
drugstore named—I can't remember the name of it—Revolution Drug was the name of it in
the Revolution [Mills] community. And the owner of that drugstore, the pharmacist, lived a
few doors from us over in what's now the Aycock Historic District of Greensboro. And he
offered me a job that summer going door to door in those mill villages introducing a
premium offer which he had. In other words, as they purchased merchandise at his drugstore,
which, of course, was like drugstores now—it had lots of things other than just medications.
They would receive a coupon and when they got so many coupons, they could redeem them
for china or everyday dishes. And I would carry a plate and samples of these coupons and
knocked on every door, I know. It took me all summer. And I saved that money to go to
school. I hated it. But later—as I said, later, I enjoyed writing about it when I had to do
freshman essays or short stories or whatever.
MF: "What did you do this summer?" "Well, let me tell you."
EK: Right. Exactly. How I spent my summer.
MF: Yes, I suppose that was probably really interesting, though, to go through the mill
communities like that.
EK: It was interesting, but I've never liked knocking on doors. I enjoyed working in a department
store where people came to you, but to go out—. And the funny thing about it is that I not
only knocked on the regular, typical mill houses, but the owners of the mills lived in some
absolutely gorgeous mansions nearby, and I even went to those doors. Can you believe it?
As if they would be interested in redeeming these coupons for this—these dishes when they
probably all had absolutely gorgeous china and silver and crystal. [laughs] But then also—
this might be of interest too. Even though I had this scholarship, and I keep reiterating that
this was very much in the Depression, I knew I would need to have student work, as well, at
college.
My across-the-street neighbor, whose name was Laura Brown and whose name now
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is Laura Brown Quinn [Class of 1942, 1973 master of education], had worked in the
library—or was working in the library in the reference department under Miss Sue Vernon
Williams, and Laura was going to graduate from college the same year I was going to
graduate from high school. So she told me that she would put in a good word for me to get
her job in the library. And I was lucky enough to get that job. So for twenty-five cents an
hour—I worked about ten hours a week in the library my freshman year. Later I was moved.
I had been editor of the school paper in high school and had done a little bit of work
at the Greensboro Record while I was in high school. Yes, I forgot to mention that, talking
about my work. And so Mr. Charlie Phillips, who was director of placement then, called me
in. In fact, I was looking through a scrapbook before you came, and I saw a little notice that
had been put in my post office box saying, "Please make an appointment to see me," signed,
Charlie Phillips. I guess I saved it because that really had a lot to do with my future life. So
when I went, he said the news bureau would like to have me come to work in the news
bureau. So I was not very happy working in the library and since Miss Williams is now
deceased, I can say why. She was such a meticulous, dear little lady that every day when I
reported to work—and I would only have maybe an hour between classes—she would
explain to me how to do what she wanted me to do. Well, I learned it the first time. I knew
how to shelve books. I knew how to clip the newspapers, put the date and the name of the
publication on it. But every day, whichever job she wanted me to do, she explained how to
do it. Every day that I was to file, she explained how to file. So I was so bored and so
frustrated that fifteen minutes of my hour would be wasted with her telling me what to do,
when I felt I knew what to do. So I was delighted to move over to the news bureau at
Christmas of my freshman year, where I was treated like an intelligent person. [laughs] And
another thing that working in the news bureau did for me other than directing my future
career, I learned a lot about North Carolina geography because one of the things that we did
was write news releases for hometown papers, so I'm pretty good, even today, at knowing
what county or at least what part of the state some little crossroads is located.
MF: Oh, yes. I imagine that would be.
EK: But then the war [World War II] broke out, of course, in December of my freshman year.
Now wait—yes, that's right. December of '41. So December of my sophomore year, when I
had been working in the news bureau two semesters, I was called by the—well, the director
of the news bureau was called by the Greensboro Record and asked if she had a student who
could work at the Greensboro Record during the Christmas holidays. So she recommended
me. So I resigned my job at Belk's with the blessing of my boss at Belk's, and went to work
at the Greensboro Record as a reporter. And I was only seventeen years old.
MF: Wow.
EK: But I worked there then after—while I was in college—the rest of my college years and then
went to work full time when I graduated. But that was a good move.
MF: Oh, yes. And just to think that—
EK: And it just all kind of happened.
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MF: —the path of getting there. Yes. Seems like things still work that way.
EK: I hope so, now that I have a daughter—granddaughter, excuse me—a granddaughter about to
finish high school and start her college career.
MF: It's kind of exciting, isn't it?
EK: Another thing I think's important, not that it has to do with the history—well, it does have to
do with the history of the university in that I think one reason so many Greensboro girls go
there to school, or did in my era, is partly because of finances. It was the only place we could
afford to go. We could live at home and go to school there. And it was a wonderful thing for
the Greensboro girls.
MF: Yes. It was also a nationally well-known school.
EK: Oh, yes. It was very highly respected. It was considered one of the finest women's colleges in
the country. No doubt about that. And interestingly enough, the students from North
Carolina compared favorably academically with students from all over the country, even
though our educational system has always been much maligned by the rest of the country.
[laughs] We only had eleven grades at that time, and girls would come in from northern
states where they had been to school twelve grades and we fared very well academically.
MF: Yes. One of the questions I've been trying to ask people to think about is—it was such a
well-known, highly-regarded school when it was a women's college, and now that it's a
coeducational institution there are many people who have never heard of it. And what are
your thoughts on that? Do you think it's a different ballpark that they've entered?
EK: Yes. I think—I can understand why the state decided what it decided in the '60s to make all
branches of the state higher educational system branches of the university to make them all
coed, to make them all interracial. I don't know how this affected other schools, but I think it
definitely sent our school into a decline. I think and hope it's rebuilding now. But yes. Now
when you say the University of North Carolina, people automatically think of Chapel Hill.
At that time when you said the Woman's College of the University of North Carolina,
everybody knew of Greensboro. So I do think it's made a difference. I don't know that much
about the national reputation now. I do attend McIver Conference, and I do hear Chancellor
[William E.] Moran and chancellors prior to him speak about renewing this kind of
reputation, and I hope it happens. But I think the—and certainly I don't mean to generalize.
I'm a sociology major, and that's one of the things I was taught not to do. But at least, the
perception was that the men who chose to go there during those early days probably were
not the caliber student that the women who had always gone there were. And whether or not
that was true, I don't know. But that was a perception.
MF: Right.
EK: And I think many of us who are of my era still sort of regret that all this happened, even
though I certainly understand why it happened.
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MF: Oh, sure.
EK: I mean, the whole educational system is changing. People go as older students now. They
need to—those who can't afford to go away and live on campus need a school to which they
can commute. Of course, there was no graduate school when I was there either, and this
makes a difference. And that's good, of course.
MF: Right. I wouldn't be there if there wasn't one.
EK: [laughs] I'm certainly grateful for the interracial aspects. I mean, that's a terrible blight on our
history when there was legal segregation.
MF: Yes. There are quite a few people who don't agree on that, what you said, though. They—
whether they'll admit it or not, there are quite a few.
EK: Oh, well, [unclear] In fact, some of my earliest interracial experiences were—well, my
own—not some of—all of my interracial experiences occurred while I was in college.
MF: Oh, really?
EK: I grew up in a very segregated South and never thought much about it. But I can
remember—as a sociology major, I can remember a few joint sessions we had with some
students from Bennett College [Greensboro, North Carolina], so that was a new experience
for me. Actually my greatest experience and I suppose what really changed my heart—I
suppose what changed my mind was my sociology courses, but what changed my heart—
believe it or not—was the church because the church has been accused of not doing
anything. But I went to an integrated student convocation, Methodist student convocation, in
Wisconsin, the summer between my junior and senior years and it was thoroughly
integrated, and it was absolutely a wonderful experience. A shocking—shocking to me when
I first arrived—but by the end of the week, a beautiful experience. It really changed my
heart. Made me realize that this was right.
MF: And that was something through—
EK: Well, it had nothing to do with the school. It was through my church.
MF: But it was a student—
EK: It was for students, college students, yes. But I went as a representative of the Methodist area
churches.
MF: That's interesting. I've tried to ask some alumni how they felt when the school became
racially integrated.
EK: I felt much better about that than I did about it becoming coed. [laughs]
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MF: Most people [unclear]
EK: If it could have had black women and white women and no men, I would have thought that
was great.
MF: Well, actually, one thing that I've heard is that they had started to let men into the graduate
school before they became racially integrated, and then they ousted those men when they
became racially integrated because they didn't want black men going to school with white
women.
EK: Oh, I never heard that. I have no idea. That may or may not be true. I think you should delve
into that statistically or whatever, but I do know that men did go WC as town students back
during the Depression. None happened to go there while I was there because that was during
the war. Things were beginning to boom economically, plus all the men were away
somewhere.
MF: Yes. Yes. But—
EK: It really—I can't quite imagine going to a coed school because I went to an all-girls school,
and I loved its being an all-girl school. Even that first semester when there were guys around
at Guilford [College, Greensboro, North Carolina] and coming up from Chapel Hill and
places like that, we had an active social life. There was no shortage of men to date and to—
and we had dances. I remember the dances down in the basement of South Spencer with a
jukebox, and the guys would come. And that was the thing to do on Saturday night. And
even if you didn't have a date, you could go and some Greensboro fellows would just show
up and people would just have a good time. And then, of course, when the war did break out,
and when we had the [United States] Army—[United States] Air Force base here, then of
course, there were men available all the time as well. So it—
MF: Temporarily available.
EK: Well, yes, of course. Well, and I guess you know, probably a large percentage of the students
were like me. We all had our true love overseas somewhere. [laughs] So the post office was
a very popular place during those four years.
MF: I've heard that. I've heard that.
EK: Oh, yes. You could hardly wait for the mail to be put up and rush down and see if you heard
from your boyfriend.
MF: I heard that it was always packed.
EK: Absolutely. Absolutely. And the bookstore was in the same little building as the post office,
and it was kind of a neat place. Of course, the bookstore was nothing compared to the
bookstore they have over there now. But it was a congregation—a place to congregate. Of
course, now, as a town student, our place to congregate—that grammar's not great, but you
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know what I mean—was the town students’ room. I guess you've heard about the town
students’ room?
MF: Yes.
EK: Smoke-filled den. Awful, if you didn't smoke, and I didn't. I'm one of the few that escaped
learning to smoke when I was in college.
MF: Were you allowed at that time to smoke around on campus?
EK: Yes, yes.
MF: Okay, because I know like in the early '30s you weren't.
EK: No. No. They could smoke in the dorm. They could smoke in the town students’ room. You
didn't smoke in class.
MF: Well, right.
EK: Yes. But, yes, smoke—alcohol was very, very adamantly forbidden. You could be shipped if
you were reported as drinking alcohol, even off campus. Yes. No—now again, I—people's
minds play tricks on them, but I'm almost positive that I can remember girls coming before
"Judi Board" [Judicial Board] for having had a beer off campus, but they were students there.
Alcohol was very much a shipping offense.
MF: And they were expelled from school?
EK: Well, at least suspended, perhaps expelled as well. Perhaps it would depend on the extent of
the drinking of the alcohol. I really don't know for a fact. I served on Judi Board my senior
year, and it's hard to remember many of the cases. I remember a case of a girl who cheated or
who was accused of cheating, and we were sort of the Honor Board as well as the Judi
Board, and she was expelled. A very attractive girl. And I remember a case of a girl who
was—this word is not even used in legal circles anymore, but she would—she went off and
spent a weekend in a hotel with a soldier, and she was arrested, and the charge was called,
"occupying a room for immoral purposes," and that word, of course, came back to campus.
And I, as an innocent, idealistic, little sociology major, felt that we should just campus her
and not expel her. And, you know, talk to her. But she—but Dean [of Women, Harriet]
Elliott [also political science professor] overruled us, and she was expelled. Even though
Dean Elliott was in Washington [DC] on President [Franklin D.] Roosevelt's War Advisory
Board [Consumer Commissioner on the Advisory Commission to the Council of National
Defense (1940-1941), Chairman of the Woman's Division of the War Finance Committee
(1942-1946), Deputy Director of the Office of Price Administration, and US [United
States] delegate to the UN [United Nations] Conference on Education, Science and
Cultural Organization (UNESCO) in London in 1945], she was very much a presence on
campus. Her spirit pervaded that campus.
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MF: Yes. What about Miss Elliott? What was she—?
EK: Well, see, we never really knew her that well because she was always away. But as I said,
we knew her spirit.
MF: Her reputation—?
EK: Yes, she—I'm sure she must have been a brilliant woman, and I'm sure President Roosevelt
wouldn't have tapped her even though she obviously was in the right party. But yes, I
think—I think Dean Elliott probably had a lot to do with making that school what it was. For
example, there was a wonderful student advisory system set up. When you enrolled as a
freshman, you were put into a group—I can't remember what those groups were called, if
they had a name—but you had a faculty advisor who really was very active in helping you
choose your major, choose your classes, this sort of thing. And then, of course, the house
mothers in the dorms were very, very helpful in your social life, in advising you. And of
course back then, the rules, as you know, were very strict. You had to sign out every time
you left campus. You really paid a penalty if you left campus without signing out. You had
to have parental permission to leave campus for overnight. But, of course, it was a different
time, and people respected these rules. And once in a while, there'd be a rebel, of course,
who'd break the rules. But by and large, it was a very respectful, obedient group of people.
And yet, I don't think we were wimps. I think we were really dedicated to getting an
education and dedicated to the idea of somehow being of use to the world. I really do. I think
service was—service is always in the school song. Service is the motto, and I think that
really was. And, again, perhaps during my era, it was because of the war. I think the war
definitely had a tremendous influence on us all. We were patriotic. We were loyal and true.
And my class' school song, which you look on it now, and it seems so kind of silly in this
day and time, but it was pretty true of the times, I think.
MF: A lot of patriotism and nationalism, yes. One of the questions I wanted to—I guess this is
sort of skipping back to something we were talking about earlier—is I wanted to talk a little
bit about the difference between being a town student and living in the dorm and your
attachment to campus and how that was different.
EK: Right. I think there are a lot of my friends in Greensboro now who were my friends in high
school, my friends in college and are still my friends but who never lived on campus, who do
not have the same feeling about the school that I have. I think I had it to some extent even
before I moved on campus because I was always a person who liked to be active and
involved. And even my freshman year when I had to ride the trolley across town at eleven
o'clock at night to get home, I was active in what we then called the Playmasters.
MF: Playmakers Repertory?
EK: Yes. High school we were Playmasters. I always thought that was funny. In high school we
were Playmasters. In college we were Playmakers. Yes. I was active in the plays and was—
did some acting, but also worked backstage and that sort of thing. And so I got to know a lot
of people. And often would be invited to spend the night on campus with a friend if we were
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involved over at Aycock [Auditorium] until late at night. And also, I—well, I was an officer
in the Town Students Association, which in a way did set me apart. But later I was elected a
marshal even while I was still a town student. And that was a big honor in those days to be a
marshal. And we loved dressing up and wearing our regalia and so forth. So I was very
active in school in campus activities even when I was a town student, but it was harder to be
active if you were a town student. And so many of my Greensboro friends just basically
went to class, gathered in the town students’ room between classes and hardly ever came
back to campus at night. So that did make quite a difference.
MF: I suppose it made it harder to get work done for classes as well because the travel to the
library was—
EK: Well, they would go to the library, of course, but mostly I would say they did their real
homework at home.
MF: At home, yes.
EK: And in fact, when the war broke out, I was at home. It was Sunday afternoon and I was
studying, and I had the radio on. Now kids study by TV [television]. Back then we studied
by radio.
MF: Oh, I have the radio.
EK: And they interrupted the music I was listening to. They were playing Elmer's Tune. I'll never
forget. And it was interrupted and announced that the Japanese had bombed Pearl Harbor
[United States naval base in Hawaii]. So I didn't—I was doing my studying at home back
then, except when I had to go to the library to do research. You couldn't—you really couldn't
study in the town students’ room. Mostly down there, they were playing bridge or just
talking, smoking. There were some real bridge players in that group. [laughs] I never liked
to play bridge and I didn't smoke, so—but I did go there because it was a place to gather.
MF: Right. And then when you moved on campus, did you feel more connected?
EK: Oh, yes. Oh, definitely. Yes. Yes. Absolutely.
MF: And I guess those who lived on campus were probably more influenced and influenced
others who lived on campus more easily—more of a connection.
EK: You had more of a—yes—you had more of a unified spirit, I think, if you lived on campus. I
saw the same thing—our middle son married quite young. He graduated from a junior
college and got married and then he had a full-time job and went to Guilford [College] and
lived at home. Of course, he was married. And he hardly knows he was a student at Guilford.
He graduated from Guilford, but as far as having any real school spirit or any real feeling for
Guilford, I don't think he does. And I think there were —I do have a few Greensboro friends
that feel that way about their alma mater. Although I find as they get older, some of them are
drawn back and probably just because they forget. You begin to get a little nostalgic as you
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get older.
MF: Yes. But that's an interesting point that you make about your son because I can think—
people that I know when I was an undergraduate—also those who just came into classes and
left don't seem to have the same connection to UNCG [The University of North Carolina at
Greensboro] or Greensboro as those—
EK: Now I think, had he not been married, that it would have been different even if he had lived
in Greensboro and not lived on campus, but because he was married, he just—he never went
back to ballgames at night, for example, and this sort of thing. Well, he was working as well,
so he really had his hands full.
MF: It was a part-time job to go to school.
EK: Right. Right. Now, I will say this. At—the Town Students Organization sponsored a dance,
for instance, every semester. And those were just as nice and just as much fun as any other
dances. In fact, the dances in those days, you would have—if you were a town student, you'd
have one extra dance because your class would have a dance, a formal dance. Your society
would have a formal dance. And then the town students would have a formal dance.
MF: Now, that was just for town students?
EK: Yes. The Town Students Association it was called. And it had its own officers, and it
sponsored one formal dance a year. And they were the same types of dances. You filled out
the dance cards, and you had the figure and this sort of thing. But the campus students did
not attend. They were not invited to attend the town student’s dance. So to that extent, they
kind of had one little extra thing.
MF: Yes. Something a little separate, too, maybe—
EK: But they didn't get to know the housemothers. They didn't get to know—they would know
the students. They would know the other town students; they would know some of their
classmates in whatever class they attended. You'd walk to the next class, maybe, with a
friend. And you certainly made some friends on campus. But there was definitely a different
feeling. There was not that feeling—it was not that different from going to high school.
MF: Yes. Okay. Yes. I can understand that.
EK: But there was a large group of town students. And again, I think it was very different from
the kind of town students you'd have today, who are married or who are—see, we were
twenty years old when we graduated. Now, you're twenty years old when you're a
sophomore, probably. And they have apartments. They have a whole different life. We all
lived with our mothers and fathers and went to school and were just little daughters. [laughs]
MF: What about some of the faculty and some of the classes?
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EK: Oh, yes. Oh, yes. I remember my—I suppose I remember from those earliest years—well, I
remember quite a lot of the teachers. I remember my English teacher was Mr. Jimmy Painter.
And he was a clown. He was an excellent teacher. Those who hadn't really learned their
grammar in high school really learned it under Mr. Painter. It was in his class that I did this
writing I was talking about, about my job. He was so funny. He would do all kinds of
histrionics up in front of the classroom. I mean, he's—I remember we—can you believe
college freshmen having a class—a lesson on letter writing? We did. Sometimes I think
maybe they ought to—students ought to be taught that somewhere now. But we—he would
even demonstrate how to fold a letter and get it in the envelope so that it was neat and not all
crumpled. And he'd jump up and down in front of the class showing you how to do all this. It
was hilarious. But the literature part was good too.
I remember my biology professor. It was Mr. [John Paul] Givler. We all made fun of
him because he talked with his mouth sort of drawn up like this. And everybody went around
campus mocking him. But again, I had never had any science since junior high school
general science. And I really liked biology, and even, incredibly, considered majoring in it,
which of course, would have been hilarious, but I was so utterly confused about what to
major in.
In fact, my sophomore year, we had what we called a class chairman who was a
counselor. And I remember her calling me in halfway through my sophomore year, and she
said, "Eleanor Dare, you've got to major in something." And, of course, I was put in Mr.
Painter's student group my freshman year because of my history of high school working on
the newspaper and so forth, they assumed I would be an English major. And I seriously
considered being an English major. But in my sophomore year I also took sociology and I
loved it, and so I finally ended up at the deadline of having to decide. I decided to be a
sociology major, and I took a lot of English courses as well. But, anyway, those—I guess
those are the two teachers I remember the most favorably from my freshman year.
I remember my history teacher very unfavorably. She was new. She was young.
Unfortunately, she was crippled, which is not what made me not like history. We had an
awful textbook. Something like World History by somebody named Cheville, And poor little
Miss [Jane] Zimmerman [Class of 1940] was so boring and that book was so awful. It had
the longest words you can imagine and to try to cover all of European history—well, I take it
back, it wasn't world history, it was European history—in one year, of course, is ridiculous
anyway. And I made my first C in history, and I was just mortified. I also made C in physical
ed[ucation] , but that's another story. [laughs] But I remember her. She was sweet and nice,
but at least she didn't reach me as a teacher. I did not like that history course.
The next summer, so that I could work more my sophomore year, I took US[United
States] history, which was also required. European history and US history were required, and
I'm happy that they were. And I took US history in summer school first semester in the
morning and second semester in the afternoon. Now if you don't think that was confusing. In
the morning you're thinking about the Revolutionary War and the afternoon you're thinking
about World War I or the Civil War or whatever. Those teachers were marvelous. Bernice
Draper and Vera Largent [both history faculty]. I'll never forget them. They were wonderful.
They were kind; they were strict; they were informed; they were great.
MF: I have a fellowship in their honor.
EK: Good. Wonderful. And, of course, the teacher of all teachers back in those days was Louise
13
Alexander [Greensboro’s first woman lawyer, political science professor]. I know you've
heard about her. Miss Alec. Well again, I had gotten to know Miss Alec and Dr. [Eugene]
Pfaff [history professor], whom I never had as a teacher, unfortunately. Mr. [Charles]
Phillips [director of public relations]. Who else? Probably Miss Draper and Miss Largent to
a lesser extent. When I was a—between my junior and senior years in high school, I went to
Tarheel Girls State. I don't know if you've heard about that.
MF: No.
EK: Well, it's a program sponsored by the American Legion Auxiliary, and it's to train students in
the political system of this country.
MF: Oh, yes. Okay.
EK: And there's a Boys State that I think meets at Wake Forest [University, Winston-Salem,
North Carolina]. And Girls State always meets over here. So I had been chosen by my high
school to attend that along with several other people, and so I got to know some of these
teachers. But Miss Alec was the one. She was so funny. And now when I watch political
conventions on television, I find myself thinking, "Miss Alec would love this." Last year—
well, I mean when President [George H.W.] Bush was elected, the Democratic Convention,
the woman [Ann Richardson] from Texas, who is now—who has now been elected governor
of Texas, made what I consider the classic political speech. The people who were not in her
party obviously hated it. Democrats, of course, just applauded her to the ceiling. Miss Alec
would have loved it. It was a classic political speech—which I would never have known it
was a classical political speech if I hadn't been exposed to Miss Alec in both Girls' State and
in college. I took a political science course under her in college as well as having been
exposed to her in Girls State. But she was great.
The one teacher I would say that I had who really taught me to think, because as
good as our secondary schools were as far as preparing us for college, I don't think I had ever
been taught to think. I think I had been taught to parrot back what the teacher told me. But
Dr. Marc Friedlaender taught me sophomore English and a course called “World Literature."
And he was one of those wonderful teachers who could ask the most probing questions so
that you couldn't parrot anything back. You had to think. He was just a wonderful teacher,
and I'll always be grateful that I finally learned that college wasn't about memorizing things
and parroting them back.
But then, of course, my sociology teachers, Miss [Mereb] Mossman [sociology and
anthropology faculty, dean of instruction, dean of the college, dean of faculty, vice
chancellor for academic affairs] and Miss [Lyda Gordon] Shivers [sociology professor]
were great. And Dr. [Glenn R.] Johnson—Mr. Johnson, I guess he was—was boring. I had
him for anthropology and for social theory. And I—actually, I was more interested in social
theory than I was—I never wanted to be a caseworker, for example. Although I took
casework and did my student practice casework at the Red Cross and had some very
interesting experiences doing that. But I liked the theory much better, although he was a very
boring teacher. [laughs] His daughter was my classmate and is a friend of mine. Jean
[Johnson Young, Class of 1945].
14
MF: Oh, really?
EK: Yes. Jean Johnson. She lives in upstate New York somewhere now.
MF: Let me just make sure this tape will turn over and run on its own. Yes. It did. Okay. It will
turn over and run—
EK: One thing we had that my roommate was head of was the War Service League, and we used
to do "Bundles for Britain," and I honestly can't remember all the things that we did, but our
purpose was to be helping the war effort. I can remember that. And that's another reason I
guess we all felt very patriotic and—
MF: I think during—maybe it was during the war. It might have during the Depression. I can't
recall right now—where students had to take their turn—?
EK: Oh, it was during the war, yes. Yes. Even though I was a self-help student, and as I said, paid
twenty-five cents an hour under this Depression program called the National Youth
Administration. I never wanted to work in the dining hall. I had worked in the dining hall
over at High Point College [High Point, North Carolina] at a Methodist-student sort of a
camp, I guess you'd call it that I attended, and I hated it. I always felt so nervous about
carrying the trays like I'd be bound to drop one or spill their iced tea on some of the people.
So I never wanted to do that. But yes, we had to take our turn doing that. Well, partly it was
because, you see, the economy had improved. We were in prosperity at that time after the
war got going. Now they say this is an aberration. Now we're in recession and war. Because
usually when you're in war you're also in—well, I don't know, usually. But in World War II,
you were in prosperity along with being in war. And there just were not enough self-help
students who were willing to work in the dining room for pay. They were to be like me, I
guess, if they could get a job somewhere else, they would take that. So yes, we had to take
our turn working in the dining hall, and I didn't like it then either. [laughs]
MF: I've not talked to a single person who felt like they could even tolerate it. They just despised
it.
EK: Well, I tolerated it. There again, we hated it, but again, never would we have protested.
Never would we have boycotted. Never would we have struck. We just weren't that kind of
people in those days.
MF: Yes, it was a more compliant era.
EK: Absolutely. Absolutely. And speaking of the dining hall, that's when I learned to drink
coffee. My senior year I had—my first class was like ten o'clock in the morning, so I didn't
get up in time for real breakfast, and we had what we called late breakfast, which was juice,
coffee and sweet rolls, and I still love that kind of breakfast, although I'd grown up thinking
you couldn't start the day without bacon and eggs.
MF: Well, I'm a real large breakfast person myself.
15
EK: Oh, I love breakfast. I like the old bacon and eggs breakfast, but I also like sweet rolls and
juice and coffee. [laughs] My husband and I eat Danish or bagels or English muffins most of
the time instead of eggs. Well, he has high cholesterol, so we don't eat eggs. But we only eat
cereal a couple of mornings a week. A lot of my friends abandoned eggs and gone to cereal,
but I've abandoned eggs and gone more to the other kinds of things, which of course, the
English muffins and bagels are very good. They don't have fat in them. Sweet rolls do.
[laughs]
MF: They taste good though too.
EK: Yes.
MF: I had written down a question here. I wrote down this question to remember to ask you
while you were talking about classes and all. Do you remember a course called Body
Mechanics?
EK: Oh, yes. That was part of physical ed. Oh, yes. I can remember they told me then that I
should wear arch supports because my feet tend to turn in. And who could have afforded
arch supports in those days, so my feet still turn in. Oh, I hated physical ed. I never liked—
I'm not a spectator nor a participant in sports. I'm sorry about that, but it's true. I took
swimming one whole year trying to learn to swim. I did learn to swim every stroke they
taught me across that pool. I even learned to surface dive and to plunge. I never would go off
the diving board, and they didn't make me. I never learned any endurance. Across that pool
is still about as far as I can swim. I took tennis. I got—I think I got a B on most things
because they graded you on improvement, and I couldn't do anything in the beginning, so of
course, I improved. I never picked up a tennis racket again after I finished that one semester
of tennis. I'm sorry. I wish I were a tennis player. I think it's a wonderful sport. I took
boating, and that's the only thing that has stuck. My husband—of course, we didn't have
sailing, but back then there was a little lake down there.
MF: Down near the golf course?
EK: Yes. At that time, I think there was no golf course. I think there was just a meadow and a
lake down there near West Market Street. And believe it or not, we took boating on that tiny,
little lake. And I did learn some canoe strokes, and I did learn some rowing techniques. My
husband is a boating enthusiast, so I must say that's the one phys ed course I took that did
help me. Later after we were married, we took a canoe trip down the Yadkin River, and I
could do the J stroke and whatever else I was supposed to know how to do. And now our
main hobby is sailing, so—although, as I said, I didn't learn to sail in college.
MF: No, but you—
EK: But I learned an affinity or a feeling for boats.
MF: Yes. That's interesting. I didn't realize [unclear]
16
EK: But I don't remember much about what we did in Body Mechanics. I just remember those
examinations where we were told our physical faults, if any. But then somewhere in those
phys ed courses, there would be a little—like six weeks of folk dancing, for example, and
maybe six weeks of doing some kind of exercises or maybe all of that was kind of
incorporated. But I do remember we had a lot of that kind of stuff, even though I—my two
years were—
[End Side A—Begin Side B]
EK: —felt intimidated by that sort of thing, although I'm the one that can work our VCR
[videocassette recorder]. My husband's never bothered to learn.
MF: Oh, yeah. I've got our VCR hooked up to the stereo so that you can listen to—like watch a
movie in stereo or something. It makes it feel like you're in the movie theater. I figured out
how to do that.
EK: Oh, neat. Yes. Good. Well, we don't have a stereo TV, so I—
MF: Oh, it's not—no. To the stereo itself. To the stereo that has the record player [unclear]
EK: Oh, well, I'm sure I wouldn't know how to do that.
MF: Well, any VCR will hook up to it. It's just a little cable that goes down.
EK: How did you learn to do that?
MF: That's the extent of my electrical knowledge. Oh, with the Body Mechanics course. One of
the other things I wanted to ask you about that is somebody told me they had these
examinations where all the girls would line up in a line.
EK: Yes. That's what I was talking about. That's when they told me my feet turned in.
MF: And that they would like—I guess they'd take an x-ray of your back or a picture of your
posture or something like—I guess it was a picture of—
EK: I don't think there were any x-rays. No.
MF: It was a picture of your posture or something.
EK: I think they probably—I don't remember any even photographs. I'm sure there were no x-rays.
There could have—I don't remember that much.
MF: I just couldn't remember what it was. I believe I remember somebody saying that they
17
would—somehow they would examine your posture and—
EK: Oh, yes. Oh, yes. They definitely talked to us about our posture. Yes. And if fact I was told
that I should concentrate on putting my weight on the outside of my feet. Yes, we were told
about holding up our shoulders. I'm sure they found people with osteoporosis tendencies and
this kind of thing. Somehow that's not real vivid in my memory. I remember the
examination. Yes, I remember that. We weren't nude or anything like that. I'm sure I'd
remember it quite vigorously if we had been. But I'm sure we had our gym suits on, and
those teachers knew—they weren't physicians or anything, but they knew how we should—
how our spine should align and this kind of thing. The other thing they told me was wrong
with me was my feet.
MF: Yes. Do you know what the purpose of Body Mechanics was?
EK: I guess, again, just general physical fitness, just to help us to stand correctly and sit correctly
and so forth. Just general—yes. I really think that the school was concerned with the whole
person in those days. I really do.
MF: Yes. That was the thought I was just having.
EK: And even—and speaking of the whole person, the religious activities groups were fairly
prominent on campus in those days.
MF: Oh, really?
EK: Yes. In fact, we had something called a Religious Activities Center. The office was down in
the basement of Spencer [Residence Hall]. I guess it would be South Spencer [Residence
Hall]. And the Y[WCA] was active, and, of course, there was a Y hut down in the woods
there where those dorms are now down at the end of College Avenue. Then various
denominations had their offices. Of course, I was a Methodist, and even though I could have
gone to my own church and did when I went to church, which wasn't very often, but I did—I
was active in the Wesley Foundation, which met over in College Place Methodist Church.
So I'm not saying every student was involved, but the religious activities groups were very
well respected, I would say.
MF: They were rather prominent on campus.
EK: Of course, the societies had evolved from—my mother had been a Dikean and had a pin—a
Dikean pin—which was a beautiful little cross-shaped pin with a few little pearls and I don't
remember what else. The emblem, of course, of whatever it was. And so she wanted me to
be a Dikean, so I could have her pin. So I requested—everybody was just arbitrarily assigned
and I requested to be a Dikean, but we didn't do anything except elect marshals and have a
dance. So, of course, when they phased out, there was really nothing lost. Incidentally, my
Dikean pin, which I had engraved with my initials and my mother's initials, so it was kind of
special and it was stolen. A few years ago our house was broken in. I had had it put on a
charm bracelet along with a lot of other sentimental things and that, among other things, was
18
stolen. So I don't have my Dikean pin anymore.
MF: Gosh, that must have been heartbreaking.
EK: Yes. It was terrible.
MF: I know I put a lot of sentimental value on things like that. I'd be devastated.
EK: I had some things that had belonged to my father-in-law and my brother-in-law—my
husband's only sibling was killed in World War II and I had his high school ring on there and
so, yes, it was a real special bracelet, but it's gone. [laughs]
Going back to the dining room, I suppose other people have remembered this, but we
had cafeteria style at breakfast and lunch, and then family style in the evening. And everyone
had an assigned table, and we really ate—if you didn't know good manners, you—that was
an opportunity to learn good table manners. Although there were no adults at the tables, but
you wore decent clothes—well, in fact, we wore decent clothes all the time back then. You
weren't allowed to wear slacks or shorts. And I remember when we would go down to
Aycock to work on scenery, and we'd wear slacks. Now I remember a song that we had in
the junior year musical about jeans, but I don't really remember people wearing jeans. I don't
remember that anybody wore denim in those days. Maybe we called other slacks jeans. I
don't remember. But we wore slacks to do our work in Aycock, and we had to roll them up
so they didn't show and wear a raincoat over them to walk from the dorm over to Aycock
Auditorium. It was absolutely forbidden to wear slacks or shorts. And I'm trying to
remember whether we were—I think if we dressed in our gym suit in the dorm—well, see,
of course, I wasn't in the dorm. I remember I had to take my gym suit and dress in the gym
because I was a town student all the time I was taking phys ed. I don't—I just don't believe
anybody walked even back to their dorms in their gym suits unless they wore a raincoat over
it. And shorts just were not allowed. And when you went downtown, you had to wear
stockings and gloves and hats. So those of us who did—if you practice taught or, in my case,
doing my practice work at the Red Cross, I had to get all dressed up to go down there. Of
course, you rode the bus. Nobody had cars. I remember my senior year, a girl named
Eugenia Cox [Harris, Class of 1945] from Goldsboro, her parents came up the beginning of
that senior week, we called it, and left a car for her to use. And oh, that was incredible. You
got to go places in a car. It was amazing.
MF: Probably twelve people in the car.
EK: Right. Right. And I don't remember where, but I remember we went out one night to eat. I
have no idea where. But that was—my family was—lived right there in Greensboro, and I'd
ride the bus home. And I seldom went home, actually, when I moved on campus. It was just
too much fun on campus back then. People weren't eager to leave the way they are now.
MF: Yes. And I guess if you were a dorm student, during your freshman year I think you had to
request to be able to go home for the weekend.
EK: Oh, absolutely. Oh, you had to have a parent—a signed permission from your parents—to
19
leave campus for overnight you had to have a signed permission from parents. To leave
campus for the afternoon, you just signed out and signed back in when you returned. And the
doors were all locked at eleven [pm]. Weekends it was later. Maybe midnight. Week nights
at eleven. Of course, I didn't live there during that freshman era when they had lights out and
all that sort of thing.
MF: But if you didn't get in before the door was locked, I imagine you were in big trouble.
EK: Oh, then you had to knock on the door and—absolutely. You were usually campused. You
couldn't leave campus for so many days or whatever.
MF: Let's see. There are just a couple of other things that I want to hit on. We've sort of jumped
around to cover everything.
EK: Because I'm a big talker. [laughs]
MF: That's great, though.
EK: Well, when I used to do interviews, I hated it when the person I was interviewing answered
everything with yes or no.
MF: I know. That is aggravating.
EK: Gave you nothing to quote in your story.
MF: Like, well, let's see, could you explain? One of the other things I wanted to ask you about
is—I don't know how active you've been in the Alumni Association—
EK: I've never had an office. I was on the editorial board for the Alumni Magazine at one time.
I've attended quite a few of the McIver Conferences. In fact, I was just looking over the
invitation. I could not go in October, and so I'm planning to go in February, and I was just
looking, thinking I'd better be sending that in. I've forgotten when the deadline was. And I
enjoy them very much. I've been on several alumni trips, and they were great. I think—I love
having access to the Alumni House. I think the Alumni Association's been great. At one
time, there was an active Greensboro chapter, which did some wonderful things like book
reviews, poetry readings and this kind of thing. Somehow that's faded by the wayside. I was
never active in that, and the way I got to participate in it was that they did these things in the
mornings, so, of course, that eliminated working women. And I was a working woman at
that time, but because I was at the paper, I would go and attend and then go back and write
about it. The newspaper was much more generous in publishing that sort of thing than they
are now. This was probably in the '60s. But yes, I—and I've been very distressed over the
current controversy. And, in fact, my Bulletin came just yesterday, and I have not read the
details of the agreement between the Alumni Association and the University.
MF: Right. I haven't either.
EK: Yes. I was distressed that the first knowledge that some kind of settlement had been reached
20
was a story in the newspaper. The first knowledge I had was from reading a story in the
newspaper, and it still distresses me that after we got so many letters—not so many, but
several letters—either in the Alumni Magazine or an actual mailed letter about the
controversy, there's been no letter about the settlement. This bothers me a little bit. But
again, I think it's probably because the Alumni Association has been so up in the air, and
after Barbara [Parrish, alumni secretary, director of alumni affairs, Class of 1948] resigned,
Brenda's [Meadows Cooper, alumni secretary, director of alumni affairs, Class of 1968, 1973
master of education] just had her hands full.
MF: And also, the secretary has just—
EK: Carolyn. I just heard last week that Carolyn had retired, and I'm sorry I didn't have a chance
to call her. In fact, I'd like to write her a little note. I'll have to find out her home address.
Yes. She was great. I love—oh, one thing I love—this has nothing to do with being an
alumna—but I love participating in the theater support group. We're members of the First
Nighters and this year, as it's happened, we haven't been able to attend any of the first night
events so far, but we will and we love that. That's great. That's in the Alumni House, of
course. The dinner—
MF: Right. With that Moran-Alumni Association controversy, that had a lot of people really—
EK: I'm not fond of Chancellor Moran.
MF: —up in the air. Yes. Well, you're joined by quite a few.
EK: I know. I think you know—if this is transcribed and he reads it, so be it—I think Chancellor
Moran has visions of grandeur. I think he would like for UNCG to be on an absolute plane
with UNC CH [The University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill]. I don't think it will ever
happen. I'm not in favor of the sports going [National Collegiate Athletic Administration]
Division I. I hope we never have football. Of course, earlier I said I'm not interested in
sports, but theoretically I care about the sports role at the university. I think it's wonderful
they had a good soccer team. I'd love to see them do more with tennis or continue doing a lot
with tennis and maybe golf. I'm concerned about whether or not they're going to get carried
away with basketball.
MF: The big money sports.
EK: They say they'll never have football. Yes. I hope they don't and I hope they don't get so
carried away with basketball that it becomes a professional activity. I think the chancellor's
just barking up the wrong tree. I just don't think UNCG—I don't think it will ever even be
another ECU [East Carolina University, Greenville, North Carolina] and I don't think it
should be. I think it has its own role and it should stick to it. And I think it should—we said
this at a McIver Conference one time—that the—now they call them schools—the schools at
UNCG that have been prominent down through the years should continue to be stressed.
That's music, theater, home ec[onomics]. Those are the ones that I know are considered very
outstanding. Psychology's becoming outstanding. Of course, my good friend, Franklin
21
Parker [history and political science professor], I think was wonderful in the Latin American
studies. I don't know really what's happening there now since he retired. He wasn't there
when I was there, but we've become friends outside.
I don't know what the future of the university is. I'm sure now they're expanding the
graduate program. I just hope its future will be in academic excellence. In all, business—
they've got quite a business school now. I don't know. I'm not that big an advocate of MBAs
[master of business administration]. I see a lot of MBAs out here who are doing some mighty
crazy things like leveraged buyouts and so forth. My husband was an economics major at
Guilford [College], but that's a different ball game from business.
Yes, I regretted the controversy, and when I made my annual gift this year, I
designated it for alumni. And once I read this thing and fully understand it, if I conclude that
I must make the check to the Alumni Association in the future, that's what I'll do because I
think the Alumni Association not only expects from its graduates, but does things for its
graduates. And I think that's important. I think once you've attended a college or a university,
your education should never really end, and I think the school should expect to do for you as
well as have you always giving to it.
MF: What about all the—for lack of a better description—this sort of building craze that's been
going on?
EK: Again, I suppose you've got to have physical facilities to carry on a program. My husband
and I have been distressed at the destruction. We're the ones who bought the little log house
and moved it. Had we not, it would have been bulldozed.
MF: It would have been destroyed. Yes.
EK: My husband—we own one house down on Kenilworth Street that we rent, and we own a
house up on Spring Garden Street in the other direction east of campus, that we rent. So,
we've been interested in that neighborhood, and we were very distressed that so many houses
up there have been just bulldozed. They could have been moved and provided housing for
somebody.
MF: I guess we've got what? About a half or three quarter million dollar fountain in the middle of
campus.
EK: I haven't seen it. Where is it?
MF: It's right in front of the renovated dining hall.
EK: I remember last year at McIver Conference they talked about building a plaza. No, I agree. I
think the money could be better spent. I think some of the new buildings are hideous
looking. I think the art building is atrocious. I think it's very nice inside, serves its purpose
quite well, but it's ugly. I've been told it's supposed to mirror Aycock and College Place
Methodist Church. It doesn't as far as I'm concerned. I think it's tacky. I think those silly
pipes they've put out there at the entrance to Spencer are tacky. Apparently, this is some
current trend in architecture, but—. I don't object—It doesn't upset me that our campus is
22
ugly. It is ugly. That doesn't bother me. I think each building was built at a different time,
and if it represents its era up to a point that's good. I think some of the aesthetics of today's
era are not aesthetic. [laughs] I mean, those pipes at Spencer, as an example. Waste bothers
me, and if that fountain makes life more pleasurable for the students and if some important
academic program didn't have to be sacrificed for it, okay. But that's probably not the case.
[laughs] I do think the renovated dining halls—I think that was good. I think they needed
that. I think you need to keep your dorms reasonably up to date.
MF: I think a lot of students were upset that they were cutting library hours, but they were
building a half million dollar fountain on campus.
EK: Exactly. I would be upset as well. I think that's outrageous.
MF: And of course, "Well, that's building funds." But I think when you're talking about students
being inconvenienced, they just don't understand.
EK: Well, inconvenience I could handle if I were a student. I might gripe, but—
MF: Yes, but the library is the whole central focus of the college campus.
EK: Exactly. Exactly. But if my academic pursuits were being jeopardized in order to build some
little monument to Chancellor Moran, then I would be very upset. [laughs]
MF: Another thing—one other thing—
EK: But I didn't even know that fountain had—I guess I'll have a campus tour when I go to
McIver Conference in a couple of weeks, and I'll see all that mess. [laughs]
MF: You'll get to see the rather expensive fountain. I also want to try to make sure I get a couple
of names from you because I've gotten a lot of names from Barbara Parrish, but those are
beginning to dwindle now, so I'm trying to get names from people. I know you mentioned a
Laura Brown Quinn. Does she live in Greensboro?
EK: Yes. Yes, she does. Her married name is Mrs. Hazel Quinn. Her husband's name was Hazel.
Her name is Laura. I don't know where she lives, but it would be—well, here let me get the
phone book. [pause] Yes, she would be four years older than me. Four years older than I.
[laughs] I don't sound as if I took any English courses, do I? I write correctly, but I don't
always speak correctly. [pause]
MF: And you talked about a Lois Hutton?
EK: Yes. She doesn't live in Greensboro.
MF: She doesn't? All right. And I know just about all the Armfields live in Greensboro.
EK: Oh, yes. And see, Emily—Emily Preyer—Emily Harris Preyer was one of the teachers in
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high school who was determined that I get a scholarship, although she never taught me and
Britt Armfield's her brother-in-law. So that's how all that came about. Yes. H.I. Quinn.
[Editor’s note: address and telephone number redacted] And she was a town student all four
years. And really, she was really a Depression-era student because—see, she graduated in
'41, and things didn't start picking up until spring of '42, I guess, after Pearl Harbor.
MF: And are there any other names of people that—?
EK: What kind of people are you thinking about?
MF: Just suggestions of alumni to interview.
EK: Well, as I said, Laura would be a little older than I.
MF: That's fine.
EK: Someone a little younger than I, who would have been in late '40s or early '50s, but she's a
school teacher. She might be hard to get up with. I was thinking of Pat Rawls [?]. She's Mrs.
George Rawls on New Hanover. She's a teacher now, and she would have a whole different
focus in that she was an education major and she'd remember wonderful people like Miss
[Eugenia] Hunter [professor of education] and people like that. Oh, one course that I had—
are we still on the tape?
MF: Sure.
EK: My senior year, I took an elective course called War Economics under Dr. [Albert] Kiester
[professor of economics]. And he really made a believer out of me. He said, "The way to
continue the prosperity of the war after the war, when there would no longer be defense
spending, would be to have—continue things or recreate new things similar to those
Depression era agencies like the WPA [Works Project Administration] and the PWA [Public
Works Administration]." He said, "By then,"—I don't think he used the word,
"infrastructure," but I would use it now because we've heard it. But bridges and roads would
be needing attention. Parks would be needing attention. They would have been neglected
during the war. And that the government could hire people to do these kinds of things and
we would still have employment. It never happened, and I think to the detriment of this
country to this day. If they would have listened to Dr. Kiester—my family thinks I was
greatly influenced by the college, and I'm sure I was.
MF: Oh, I'm sure.
EK: I think I'm a better person for having gone there. I really do.
MF: Okay. I don't want to leave out anything that—anything at all, I guess. Is there anything else
you want to add? I know, it's like, “Whoa, gosh, let me think.”
EK: We've said so much already. Yes. I really feel very grateful that I could go to college. My
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mother went to college, but my father didn't. My brothers and sisters—brothers and sister,
who are younger than I actually—my sister [Sara Taylor Alston, 1953 Commercial Class]
went to WC one year as a freshman on campus, in fact. And then took the one-year
commercial [course].
And so, actually, of my—the four children and the two parents of my family, I'm the
only one who graduated from college. I feel very grateful for that. I couldn't have if that
school hadn't been here in Greensboro, and I couldn't have even if Mr. Armfield hadn't given
me that scholarship because my father worked, but they had three other children to support.
Times were hard. I feel that I became a more concerned person. My church influence and my
college influence are very much intermingled because even though I wasn't really going to
church in those days, I was still active in some Methodist student activities. So that I think at
that time I was learning a little bit more about the importance of democracy and freedom and
peace through both the church and the school. I think I learned a lot about our political
system and our court system from those teachers. And again, that's a little intermingled
between Girls State because I went back as a counselor for Girls State while I was in college.
But they were all people that were connected with the university. I think they were good
people and they were wonderful teachers. They were intelligent. They were educated. And I
just think to have been exposed to people like that was a great benefit to me.
MF: Okay. Thank you so much.
EK: Thank you, Missy. It's been fun.
[End of Interview]