Yes, I can. My two sisters were being graduated from Winthrop. My mother
was ill at Johns Hopkins that year.
Father was hard-pressed for funds. I believe it was the time of four-cent
cotton. Our economy was nothing to brag on. But I was looking forward
with the keenest anticipation to attending Winthrop. Winthrop was
definitely in the future for me—as my two sisters and many friends had
gone to Winthrop. My mother, as I said, was at Johns Hopkins. She wrote,
"I want Marguerite to attend Winthrop commencement and be oriented, so
she can feel at home next September when she enters college. And I did.
But, when my father brought me the letter he said, "Margie—he called me
Margie—do you think you could wait a year to go to Winthrop. With the
two girls in college this year and your mother ill it's going to be
difficult for me to swing it financially." The world tumbled in on me.
I
Page 4 didn't let him know it, but I was completely
nonplussed and amazed. He said, "You wait just a year, and I'll be ready
to take care of it." I said, "Fine, we'll wait a year," but I cried
myself to sleep that night. Heartbreaking experience. But I had heard,
through my relatives and friends, that you could stand an examination
and get a scholarship to Winthrop, if you couldn't pay the tuition at
the time. The scholarship would pay all expenses. Without asking anybody
I went to the courthouse to the county superintendent of education; I
think his name was Mr. Pitts. He told me all about it. He gave me some
sample exam questions from the previous examinations, and I set up for
myself a rigid program of study. I would slip away from the family, I
remember so vividly, and go next door to Mrs. Guy Garrett's second
floor. Here I set up a little study and I studied rigidly 'til July the
fifth, the day of the examination. I had an enticing invitation to go on
the fourth on a big hayride party with my friends. But I stayed at home
and studied and crammed. On the day of the examination I was ready to
go. We assembled at the courthouse. My Aunt Mary Waller and my Uncle
Clarence Gray ran the hotel on the Laurens square. She always took an
interest in me. She phoned, "Marguerite, you are to come by the hotel
first and then you will have lunch with me on the day of the exam." So,
with all
Page 5 the information I could cram into this
vacuum of mine I went to the Court House to stand the examination. There
were about forty in the room; a lot of buzzing and talking. I looked
over and saw red-headed Kate Wofford and red-headed somebody else and I
said, "Oh, I wonder if I'll ever be able to compete with them." But
anyhow, on a hot July the fifth, I stood the exam and went to my Aunt
Mary's for lunch. She served cold milk and a cool salad—nothing heavy.
And after lunch she sent the butler over with a tall pitcher of
lemonade. And I attribute my success to that pitcher of ice cold
lemonade
[laughter] which I shared at the
table with my friends. Then that night I was invited to a delectable
steak dinner—the climax of the day!
After that time passed tediously. Not a word from Winthrop came. My
sister, who had graduated at Winthrop, had had a house party. I was
delegated to take them to the station. We had a rubber-tired old buggy
and a horse by the name of Prince. My father was an insurance agent in
those days—went from county to county. So I drove Prince down Main
Street with the girls to the railroad station in Laurens when they were
leaving. We had trains running, you know, from Charlestown to Columbia
to Newberry and Laurens and Greenville. As I carried those pretty girls
to the station
[I had to make two trips] a
young, personable young man jumped off the train—Ossie Anderson. He
spied me in the crowd. Everyone assembled
Page 6 bled to see
the trains come and go in those days. He rushed over, grabbed my hand.
"Congratulations! I see in the morning
State you've
won the scholarship to Winthrop from Laurens County." That was the
thrill of a lifetime. I told everybody good-by. I jumped into the
rubber-tired buggy and with a whip, I whipped old Prince as fast as I
could up Main Street. The first person I told the good news to was our
old cook Manda. We danced around the table threw the cat into the air
and Manda said, "Lordy mercy, lordy mercy, I knew you was gonna win. I
knew you was gonna win." I ran to the telephone to tell the good news my
two Aunt Marys who were so interested in me and who sponsored me. My
mother was quite an invalid then. She was recuperating at Graystone near
Great Court, ancestral home of the Grays. Of course they rejoiced with
with me.
Dr. Rass says in his chapter in our book, "Is it any wonder that
Marguerite chose South Carolina as the scene of her activities in the
line of education." I taught in the South Carolina public schools for
twenty years. I taught at Winthrop College. I taught at Clemson summer
school, Newberry summer school. I became a member of the state
department of education, where I served as Supervisor or Assistant
Supervisor of adult education. Later I became assistant director of the
South Carolina Opportunity
Page 7 School, famous not only
from coast to coast but around the world. Dr. Wil Lou Gray was the
founder. I became assistant director there. They did ask me to be
director but I was sixty-five and I said, "No, I don't want to assume
more and more heavy duties toward the end of my career." So I decided
that I would be assistant director for a few years and retire. I served
seven years.