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Transcript on deposit at The Southern Historical Collection, The Louis Round Wilson Library
Citation of this interview should be as follows:
“Interview A-0334, in
the Southern Oral History Program Collection #4007,
Southern Historical
Collection, The Wilson Library,
University of North Carolina at Chapel
Hill”
Strom Thurmond had a long career as an attorney, judge, and governor in South Carolina before serving in the United States Senate. Here he addresses his childhood and the predecessors who inspired his lifelong work. Starting with his parents' farm, Thurmond explains how he learned to save and invest by working on local fields. His parents, he says, modeled ambition and diligence. Local leaders such as Benjamin Tillman introduced him to the world of politics and the rhetoric of race relations. Through the example of others, he developed his own appreciation for constitutional literalism and states' rights. Thurmond discusses how he argued for these issues in his book and during his terms in office. He also gives his opinion on the desegregation process he witnessed in South Carolina and envisions how he would have reacted to major issues such as slavery.
Strom Thurmond discusses his childhood and the people who inspired his long political career. As an attorney, judge, and governor, Thurmond advocated for states' rights and witnessed the desegregation of South Carolina. He recounts how he lived out his values in regard to the United States Constitution and race relations.
[START OF TAPE 1, SIDE A]
Let me just start with the early period and home life. You were born in 1902 and I wonder if you could think back to what the house was like, the size.
My wife was there yesterday, that's where I was born, Edgefield. I was born in the town of Edgefield, Columbia Street, I guess about three quarters of a mile from the court house. But we moved—it was three boys and three girls—and my father wanted the boys to work on a farm so we moved out of town, moved out to the country. So we grew up on the farm.
He specifically wanted you to have the farm experience, is that right?
That's right. He wanted us to see how hard it was to make a living on a farm.
How large a farm was it?
I was only about, probably four years old when we moved out there but I remember when I lived on the other street.
How many acres, do you recall?
Well it was in several different tracts. I guess it must have been thirty or forty acres there and pasture, maybe ten or fifteen acres at the other place and then about seven acres I believe, right at the house. Then we had land in the country, we had about six or seven more acres, one place about a thousand and another. After I got older, why, he would take me out in the buggy before automobiles came in.
I was going to ask you, did you have a car, do you remember when you got your first car?
We bought our first car in 1916, a Dodge automobile.
You remember that. And you were fourteen, did you drive it then?
Yes I did. Before then we'd get in the buggy and ride out to these farms in the country. One known as Nicholson Place which is about seven miles from Edgefield. The other was the Hilgal Place, that was about twelve, fifteen miles from Edgefield.
Did you have a lot of farm equipment to run that farm?
No, we didn't have any equipment at all, we didn't have any tractors.
So you had a lot of hired help, right?
Well, the land out in the country was done on division of the crops. My father would furnish the fertilizer and the seed, and finance and everything and split the crop with the man who worked it. We would go out and talk with these people every few weeks—ride the buggy out and talk with 'em. My father would talk to me going out there and back. At the time, sometimes I thought I'd rather be playing, but after going with him several times I learned it was so much fun and I found it very interesting to be with him, and enjoyed being with him.
Did anybody else live with your family in the house, other than family?
Well, except a man. We did have a white man—Logan, cousin of my mother's who lived with us and worked there on the place some. But we had some other people that worked there—I'm speaking now of near Edgefield—we had other people. We had a cook, and we had a man who worked in the field. When I got big enough my job was to milk the cows, so I milked the cows up until I went off to college.
How many cows did you have?
Anywhere from three to half a dozen.
So what did you grow on these number of acres here and there. You had diverse agriculture?
Cotton and corn chiefly, some grains. We generally grew enough oats to feed the horses, corn and oats.
So you didn't have any farm equipment for cotton, so it all had to be hand labor, right?
Oh yeah. And when my neighbor went to war in about 1917, World War I, I
bought his crop and worked it myself—I was about fourteen years old. I
bought his crop and it helped him out, and then I thought I'd make some
money. My brother and I actually bought it. He later became a doctor,
obstetrician. He's delivered more babies than any doctors in Georgia or
South Carolina, the older brother. At any rate, he didn't like to work
much in the farm. I soon saw I wasn't going to get much work out of him
so I bought him out. But it turned out he cleared about as much as I did
because we had a drought that year.
Did you ever get an allowance. You know, kids today want an allowance. Did you get a weekly allowance for doing these jobs around the place?
No, I don't believe we got an allowance. But I worked—I clerked in the store some on Saturdays. Clerked for Mr. Bob Dunovant Mr. J. D. Kemp. Also worked in a garage for George Adams on Saturdays in the summer time—not all summers but some times, maybe for a month. I had to work on the farm chiefly. When I clerked—well, I guess I was about fourteen, fifteen—I worked on the farm until I got big enough, then do that. And I still did some, my father required us to work on that farm.
Do you have a nickname?
No I don't.
They just called you that Thurmond boy. What did they say, they didn't call you . . .
I don't think any special nickname. I have an unusual first name. My mother was a Strom—S.T.R.O.M. they pronounce it, back then it was S.T.R.U.M.
Tell me about holidays at home, Christmas, Thanksgiving. Can you remember, think back, what that was like, what was served, any special dishes.
Well we always had good meals at our house. My father was a good lawyer and made considerable money practicing law. And we grew our own vegetables and we produced our own meat—hogs, hams.
Did you slaughter them right at the place?
Yeah, once a year, slaughtered at the farm.
Almost self sufficient.
Self sufficient. We grew our wheat and took it to the mill and we got
whole wheat flour. He was way ahead of himself I guess that's the reason
that today I still get bran from a mill to use—you know, it kind of puts
hay in your stomach. [laughter]
Tremendous. You know, it's just impossible to do that today.
We used salt and some salt peters.
Did you have any pets yourself, a dog?
Well, my father gave me a calf once. Then that calf grew up and she had
calves and he started me off that way in business—livestock. And then he
later bought a horse for me—it was the prettiest little red horse you
ever saw—a little mare. But she jumped the fence one day and got in the
field where we'd cut some hay recently,
Chickens too, I suppose?
Oh, we had chickens. The chickens run under the house as soon as they could tell when you were going to pick one to kill. I'd have to go under there and get 'em out.
I'd like to switch to your parents, if I could now. Your father was an attorney, can you give me a little background on his education?
He grew up down in what is known as Hawkins Creek—it's between Steven's Creek and Savannah River. And he rode about six to eight miles to school every day on a horse. His mother taught him, he said—he learned more from her than anybody else. She was English descent, born in New Orleans. She was well educated, I don't know whether she went to college or not. But, I remember her quite well—she died December 13, 1913—I was eleven years old. She was excellent in grammar. And he accepted his ambition and his ideals from her. His father fought in three wars. He fought in the Indian wars, in the Mexican wars, and the Confederate war.
That's George Washington Thurmond, isn't it?
Yeah.
He fought in three wars. Cherokee war?
That's right, the Indian wars, yeah. He went out, way out to Texas, lived out there awhile—Houston, Texas. What's that town right near Houston, a fort town.
Galveston?
Galveston. He lived there awhile. I think he's still got some—he was married twice—some of his children or descendants are out there. At any rate, he came back to New Orleans and met my grandmother and married her. And that's when it took a long time to get around, well he got around somehow. He was an outdoorsman, kind of a roaming sort of fellow, and just went all around. He could drink liquor and work out in the open, had all of his teeth at eighty four, his hair too. Died at eighty four. But didn't seem to hurt him.
Now that was your father's father.
Yeah. G. W. Thurmond. He was tough, he was really an outdoors man. His wife was a very literary woman. Miss Felter, she was a Felter.
Mary Felter.
Mary Jane
Did your father go to college for long?
He went to school out there in the country. Then later he went to the University of South Carolina for one year. That's the only college education he had. He studied law in the office of Governor Shepherd.
John C. Shepherd.
Yeah. He stood the bar and they cited three of those who stood the bar for having excellent papers, and he was named first. Supreme Court cited three of 'em, just having such excellent papers. He was a good student, he had a very able mind, ablest lawyer I ever knew.
Do you think he viewed himself as a success, your father?
Well, I don't know whether he did or not. I think, it was unfortunate,
one time he had to kill a man. If it hadn't been for that I think he
would have been governor or come to the senate or something. After that,
I think he probably felt that he was hampered. Although he was
appointed—he was solicitor at the time—he shot this man and killed him.
And then after that he didn't run, he'd
That's coming up. So I just want to ask a couple of more things about your father. Was he home much of the time?
Well, he travelled. He had a branch office in Saluda, he had one in Lexington. He could go by train to Lexington, but he had to go by a buggy to Saluda at that time. He was home later a good deal, later in life.
Did you do a lot together, you told me about those buggy rides, but besides that?
Not so much, he was so busy.
Hunting together, or fishing, or anything like that?
Well, occasionally he went hunting, but I didn't go hunting with him very much. I was away in college. After I came back and started practicing law he started having—one attack before then—he started having heart attacks and had 'em for six to eight years. He was too stout, didn't take enough exercise, and he was writing this law book—Thurmond's key cases. In other words, he didn't follow a course that was healthy that he should have done. Every time he'd have a heart attack, why his pulse would go down to about fifteen. First time we thought he was going to die, but the doctor'd come, give him a puncture. He'd get over it in ten minutes, he's just as normal as ever before.
Give him a puncture?
Yeah, a shot in the arm. A shot in the arm, he give him something, and then his pulse would pick up. Ten minutes and he was all right. And he might go three or four months before he'd have another one. And that thing kept up for six to eight years.
Was it chronic coronary?
I don't know what it was. But he was writing this book though during that period too. I think that's one thing, he just over-worked himself.
Can we go to your mother for a minute. What influence did she have over your life.
She was a very dedicated Christian woman. And neither one of 'em drank
whisky or used alcohol. Anyway, she was a great church goer. She could
deliver a prayer as good as a preacher.
She went to college?
She went to GWC.
What's that.
Glenville Women's College. It was old GFC, Glenville Female College, changed later to GWC, and then changed later to and then Furman.
What was her attitude toward raising children, can you recall it or summarize it?
Well, she had so many children, so she didn't have too much time to spend on any one. But she always tried to check on us to see if we were properly dressed. And she always checked on the meals, we had a cook, but she would check to see that everything was right.
She didn't work outside the home, did she?
No, except just for exercise out in the flower garden. She would work out
there. My father would encourage her to do that, which was good for
her—to devote her mind to that, and good exercise.
Oh, the tobacco king. Would it be fair to say that your mother established a model for yourself as a wife and a mother. In other words, I'm wondering what influence your mother had in terms of establishing what you would look for in a mother or a wife.
Well, she had an influence so far as how I viewed life. Yeah, she did. And she was always interested in seeing the right meals were prepared and encouraging the children to study their lessons. She would help us some if we got stumped but they generally made us do our own work. My father was the dominant character in the family.
Who was—I was going to say—who was the disciplinarian. Wait 'till your father gets home—did she ever say that?
Did he ever have to give you a . . . ?
Yeah, he paddled me several times.
Once is enough.
Because he paddled pretty hard. As far as she was concerned, well, we would try to run away from her and she couldn't catch us.
Did you run away from her.
She'd cry, come back here, I'm going to spank you. So we'd run up and get out on the porch on the house and she couldn't get us. We had an upstairs, on the second floor we had a big porch—you could get out on that. And then she wouldn't try to pursue us. She couldn't in the first place, and in the second place she was afraid that we might try to climb down from up there and get hurt. But the threat of telling him, or the threat of having him do it was because he meant business. Now she would kind of plead with you, but when he spoke, he was very firm and very determined and very decisive.
Did your parents ever talk about anyone they admired, or did they describe values to you that they would emphasize. I'm wondering, we have models—I wonder if our parents ever had models for behavior. Did they ever mention anybody to you as children?
I don't know, dad especially, we kind of looked on him as the model.
He was the boss.
That's the reason I guess I never did smoke cigarettes, or drink, 'cause
he didn't. And that's the reason I guess I learned to eat whole wheat
bread, 'cause he did. And that's the reason that, a lot of the health
habits I picked up from him. He ate a lot of fruits and
Your dad telling you this now?
Yeah. Well, when I got there he spoke to him and I came up to the man, I'd shake hands with him. Senator Tillman was a stern fellow, very profane too. He looked at me and says, "What do you want?"
Scare you?
Well he didn't scare me because my father had told me what kind of man he
was. I said, I want to shake hands with you. And he says, "Well, why in
the hell don't you shake then." I shook it several times, I been shaking
hands ever since.
That's very good.
Yeah, that's right. I think maybe, I don't whether someone shot him in that eye or what happened, but something happened. He was a very dynamic fellow though. The best stump speaker, I guess, the state ever produced.
Did you ever hear him?
Yeah. I heard him speak, 'course I was just a kid.
But my father always wanted us to hear the different people who came to speak, all the campaigns. See, the big entertainment back in those days was two things. One was to go to courthouse and hear cases tried. So I'd go up and hear a lot of cases tried, just got intrigued by cases being tried.
How often did you go there to hear these cases, every week?
Well, when they'd have court. They'd have it about, once in the spring, once in the fall, once in the winter. And as school was out I'd get to the courtroom to hear those cases. That was a big entertainment. They have those picture shows there, but I liked this better than a picture show. And then, every two years when people ran for office and have stump speaking, I'd want to go and hear them.
I remember when Blease and Ira Jones ran for governor in 1912. And we were for Jones, he had been Chief Justice of the Supreme Court and a very fine man. But he was not a stirrer of people's souls. He was not a picturesque character like Blease. I remember they had him down there close to where the old high school was where I went to school, down at the bottom by the Creek they had a platform built.
Well, Blease was quite a speaker you know. He kind of ridiculed Jones. Well Jones wouldn't pay any attention to him make his speech. Blease won by a close vote. That's one time we felt the best man didn't win. But Blease was such a speaker.
Bowled them over.
Yeah, he did. And that's the way then they judged people. And now, you're on television and different things. But back then it was stump speaking, whoever could make the best speech on the stump was going to get elected.
You didn't need a press writer, wrote your own.
No, you just didn't have any press writers.
I want to move into school, early school. Where, and what you studied, whether you liked it, your favorite teacher, and that kind of thing.
Well, I went to school at Edgefield—went to grammar school and high school at the same place.
Do you remember a favorite teacher, that made an impression on you?
Yeah, there was a Miss Hyde was a favorite teacher, and Snow Bland who was married to a Jeffries was a favorite teacher. Those were two of my favorite teachers.
How many were in your graduating class?
I didn't graduate, I went from the tenth grade to Clemson. I was sixteen years of age at that time. They did add the eleventh grade the next year.
So you went as far as you could.
Yeah, I finished. The tenth grade was as far as they went. I could've stayed another year and attended the eleventh grade but I didn't see any need in doing that because I was accepted at Clemson in the tenth grade so I went there.
That was quite an accomplishment. Sixteen and off to Clemson. Why did you decide to go to Clemson?
There were only two boys that remained in school—the boys back there would stop and go to work. We started out with about ten or twelve boys I guess, and probably twice that many girls. We ended up with about almost the same number of girls finished the tenth grade, only two boys. Ralph Wood, who got a scholarship to Citadel and went there, and I went to Clemson. He later became Dr. Wood and head of the physics department at Clemson.
So we could say, since you went as far as you could go, which was the tenth grade, and then graduated. So only two . . .
I didn't graduate, didn't give any diplomas.
Well, but you left and only two of you left—two boys who left—one went to Citadel and you went to Clemson. Any reason for going to Clemson rather than USC?
Well, I knew some boys around Edgefield that had gone to Clemson, and I liked them and I'd heard about Clemson. They had a good spirit at Clemson. My father that you wouldn't be tempted to run around at night—if you wanted to go to a university of some other place. In other words, it was out in the country.
Yeah, it would be. It still is kind of, I was there a couple of weeks ago—at Fort Hill there.
That's right, it still is. And he thought that would be a good place for me to go. Because the environment would be good, you could devote yourself to building your body and building your mind too.
It was not coeducational was it?
No, it wasn't. We had a Corps Cadets.
So it was compulsory ROTC?
Compulsory ROTC. Everybody had to be in the ROTC. I went there, fall of
1919, let's see, the war ended I believe in eighteen, so we were there;
the boys coming back from the war was there. And that was a rough set
too. A lot of 'em were older and they hazed terribly there you know.
I've had many a broom handle broke over my rear end.
Because you were a plebe, right?
Yeah, freshman. Then when you get to be a sophomore of course, you could haze other. But I never did care about hazing people, except I'd send 'em on errands, such as that you know. And they'd clean your rooms—just like I cleaned the others rooms.
Did you have a roommate at Clemson?
Yes I did.
Who was that, do you remember anything about him?
First one was R. N. Murray. I think he's here in Washington now. He left though and went to Wofford and I believe he finished at Wofford. I was just with him one year. But he didn't like the military so much, so he decided to go to And then I had—A. K. Enman, was the next roommate I believe I had. P. M. Garland was my roommate my senior year.
You got on well with all your roommates?
Oh yes, got along fine. P. M. Garland became a county agricultural agent. He was in Greenwood for twenty years or more. He's now living in Anderson, he's retired.
Were you a member of a fraternity?
Didn't have any fraternities.
What about social life?
Oh, we had dances about once a month. I love to dance.
Where did you meet the girls to go to the dance.
Well, they would come by train.
Train?
They'd carry us across from old Calhoun. Calhoun was a little station over there, they changed it to Clemson—the name was Calhoun then.
Would they come from another school or college?
Well, they'd come from other colleges or come from cities. Some high school girls.
You didn't have any regular . . .
Didn't have any social life at all except when these girls were coming there.
Did you see anybody regularly. In other words, did you have a favorite girl friend?
No, I just played the field.
Who did the music?
Well they'd have bands, good bands.
And it wasn't square dancing, this was big time stuff?
No, just regular dancing. Edgefield was quite a social center. It was an
intellectual center—when my father grew up down there in the
country—they used to have public debates down there on the issues of the
day. And he got very interested you know, they had
Maybe in the nation.
I was the tenth judge. A number of United States senators and congressmen—Preston Brooks was from there. Preston Brooks was the one that walked out on the floor of the senate over here and caned the senator of Massachusettes. He was castigating Senator Butler from Edgefield. Brooks may have been related to Butler. Anyway he walked out, and took his cane, and just knocked him to the floor.
What do you think about that?
Well, of course that was improper, but back then they didn't care whether
it was improper or not. I mean, back in Edgefield County everybody would
fight
Within a what, twenty year period?
Yeah, I imagine in a twenty year period. I mean they didn't bother to go in court. They'd settle their affairs out of court.
Hot blooded.
They were, they really were. They were that way, I don't know why it was, but it was. At any rate, the Brooks had that spirit about 'em, don't you see.
Now he was reprimanded by the House so he resigned, and went back down there and ran again, and they overwhelmingly reelected him. But he died before he ever came back.
Let me just ask you some family ties. Did you ever take a vacation together—all of you—the four kids and mom and dad?
We had no where to go then. My father used to take some of us on trips. I
remember, as soon as they bought this Dodge automobile—about six months
after they bought it—my father was going to take several children up to
Asheville, North Carolina. He was District Attorney from about 1914 to
1921. And so in 1916 we planned to go in this car to Greenville, his
headquarters, 'cause he had to go up every week. I'd take him up every
week, it was about four o'clock in the morning driving
Stayed at a boarding house—they had a boarding house, then you could stay at a reasonable price. You get rooms and meals, you see. I remember we were on a streetcar up there, he told me to sit down and I sat down. But the next time we got on one I was walking around and we were going around those mountain curves and the car turned quick and I nearly fell off, but I grabbed like that—having to catch a post so I didn't fall off.
And I remember another thing he told us. We went out to Vanderbilt's Estate. They were selling ice cream and milk and everything there. We walked in, he says, "Now you're not to have any ice cream, any of you," he said, "You drink buttermilk." Well, you see Ice cream has sugar in it, travelling it's not so good, you should drink buttermilk. So we had to drink buttermilk. We all wanted ice cream but we wouldn't disobey. He was a strict disciplinarian. When he spoke we'd used to always obey him.
That was a noteworthy outing.
He took us to Columbia a number of times when I was a kid just big enough to hold onto his coat tail, about four years, five years old.
How would you get there?
Train. One time we were going down the street, and my older brother who's
two years older—see we were looking at everything, we hadn't been there
much. And he was holding him by one hand on the coat tails, and I was
holding him on the other side by his coat tails. And I got to looking at
something, and dropped my hand from his coat and before I knew it he'd
gone on up yonder. Somebody else came along, I just grabbed his coat
tail.
Had he taken you up to the capital there?
Yeah.
That's quite a sight isn't it?
Yeah, he took us up to the capital and introduced us to the judges on the Supreme Court. He's sat on the Supreme Court numbers of times as special judge. He never did care to be a regular judge but they'd call him in especially when they'd have some tough cases. Chief Justice Blease said he was the ablest lawyer that ever came before the Supreme Court.
I've heard that from a number of people. What I was going to mention about family times—was there any crisis in the family, any illness or tragedy?
My mother had several operations. Her health was not too good. She went
to Columbia, Dr. Geary operated on her and she went to Augusta for
treatment—
Were you a member of FFA, 4-H, Scouts, or church groups?
I remember the Boy Scouts. We didn't have FFA at that time or 4-H.
You didn't have them.
Didn't have 'em at that time when I grew up. Now later, after I graduated from Clemson, I taught agriculture for six years and we had the Future Farmers there.
You said church was important early on there.
Every Sunday we went to church.
Was there Sunday School too?
Sunday School and preaching.
So even as, probably a five year old, you had to sit through the sermons too?
That's right, after we got about five we'd have to sit through the sermons.
How long was that, did you have those long sermons in those days?
No, well it would take about an hour, an hour and a half I guess, for the whole service. About like it does now.
So everybody went, the six children and mom and dad?
All six of us.
Did you like going to church?
Yeah, I liked it all right. Miss Cleota Tompkins who was my teacher, I
remember one time she gave me a Bible, I still have it. She was a good
teacher and a very sweet, kind woman. She was Cleota
All relations. Were you active in the church group there. There was a young Baptist group or something.
Yeah, we actually called it the BYPU. Then later, after I finished with teaching school, I was active at an office of BYPU for that area, several counties around there. Later, I believe that's when I practicing law, I was superintendent of Sunday School.
And today the church is still a regular . . .
First Baptist Church. Except I'm a member of the First Baptist Church in Aiken now, I moved the membership. I'd rather stay at Edgefield while I was governor, I did move to Columbia, although I went to the First Baptist Church in Columbia.
Have you ever given a sermon, preached?
Well, I don't preach a sermon, I've talked in a church. for God and Country Day and I talked. But I don't hold to be any preacher . . .
No, no, but you mentioned your mother could give a sermon as good or better than a preacher, I wondered. Did you ever think about that when you were making a decision about politics—did you ever consider the ministry as a possible career.
No I never did consider the ministry. I have a nephew who's kind of undecided between the ministry and medicine. He used to be an obstetrician, tremendous practice in Greenwood.
Let me back into a little bit more about your father and politics. Was politics a family thing or was it mainly your father.
Well, we were in politics from the time I can remember. 'Cause he was working—he was with the Tillman crowd you see. Now, he was a member of the House from 1894 to ninety six and then he became Solicitor, he was elected from 1896 to nineteen four.
This was your father now.
Yeah. He must have killed this man, I guess, about 1899.
What was that over, if I might ask.
The fellow grew up in the same part of the county, way down there where you came from.
In Edgefield.
Yeah. And, I don't know what he was drinking but anyway, he was threatening and they got in a fight. Fellow Harris. I think he followed around my father's horse, and my father was trying to get away from him. But the fellow was just determined to cause trouble, following him around. But I think he grew up down in that same area down there where my father lived and was probably a little jealous of him, I was told. 'Cause my father had done well you know, in law.
Were you aware of what your father did for a living, did he tell you or did you ask him?
He told me later, about having to kill the man, after I was older.
What I meant is, some kids today don't really know what their father does, the father goes away and comes home. Did you know that your father was an attorney and in politics?
I knew what he did, yeah. 'Cause I would be with him.
You always went with him.
Yeah. In other words, we'd go up to the office practically every day and sometimes he'd send us on missions and things, you know, just to do. And then during court time we'd go up and hear the cases tried.
Can you remember at what age that you might have thought that you would pursue a political career.
Well all along I thought I might get into politics. But in 1912 when Jones and Blease ran and I saw Blease castigate Jones unnecessarily without reason and degrade him, I made up my mind then I was going to run for governor some day.
Well, I guess you did. Because of the abuse?
And I made up mind I was going to learn to speak and never let a man do
me like that.
Because that's how—Blease just snowed him over didn't he. I can appreciate that. Did you say to yourself I could do that good myself.
Well, Jones, he made a good talk, a literary talk. But he just didn't stir the people. And Blease did. I was ten years old then.
Later on when your father was still living, did you ever ask him for advice as to what you should do?
Yeah.
Did you ever have a disagreement with him, politically?
No, I don't think so, politically, we were pretty well together.
Did you ever have a disagreement with him when you were older.
Well we may not have agreed on everything. He—law is a tough task master. When I thought about studying law, he just wanted me to think it over well and be sure. Since I went to Clemson and they taught agriculture and to live out in the open—he thought that was a good life for a person. 'Cause he's pinned down to an office and he said, you'd better think it over well. But I'd about made up my mind when I was grown up I was going to be a lawyer. But I just went to Clemson because so many other Edgefield boys I liked went there. And then I got interested in teaching—it's a great challenge to teach school. He taught school himself. And anyway
[END OF TAPE 1, SIDE A]
[START OF TAPE 1, SIDE B]
You mean in a day you would do that?
Oh, not at the same time, no.
Oh, you'd teach awhile, a couple of years.
I was in the McCormick just one year. And Ridge Spring only one year. And then I decided to go back home because I thought I'd study law and wanted to be around my father. And then of course, football and basketball.
I meant to ask you, when you were up there at Clemson, what sports did you play up there?
I played company football and basketball, but my main varsity sport was track and cross country.
Is that where you developed your interest in jogging and running?
Yeah. We ran, one time at the end of the cross country season in 1922, there were five of us decided to see if we could run twenty miles. That was before they straightened the road from Clemson to Anderson. It was up hill and down hill and not paved until we got two miles from Anderson, it was paved.
So you ran from Clemson to Anderson, which was twenty miles.
Yeah, twenty miles, all of us made it.
Who was first?
Well we didn't run, we weren't competing. Just to see if we could do it.
I remember I had shoes that were a little too big—they were new shoes. I
never should've done that, that taught me a lesson. They were a little
too big and they rubbed my toes but if I stopped I wouldn't have
accomplished what I wanted to so I kept on.
You ran though before 1920. Did you run around Edgefield, jogging?
Not very much, no. I played football at school, but there wasn't any running then much. They did have some track events there, but I didn't take much interest, I liked football at that time. But I wasn't heavy enough hardly at Clemson to make the team up there.
At Clemson you were on the track team. Did you set any records there?
No.
Mostly a long distance runner?
Long distance—two miles in track and then three and five miles in cross country.
The loneliness of the long distance runner, you probably know about that—always out in front. When did the concept of diet begin to take more and more of a hold. Or was it always because of living in the natural setting.
Well, I think there was always a certain—because my father kind of set an example by eating vegetables and fruits and eating whole grains. Oatmeal, wheat—in other words he advised eating whole grains.
Let me ask you about when you were a boy and also through college, some of the reading habits that you had. As a boy, what stories did you read or were read to you and what authors and what subjects interested you most when you were growing up?
Well I read the usual books that were available then, stories, and novels, and Huckleberry Finn, stories of that kind.
Is Mark Twain one of your favorite authors?
Mark Twain, yeah.
What do you read today?
I don't read any books, today I don't have the time. I've got to get others to read books and report to me on 'em.
Do you read any magazines today?
Yeah, I generally read U.S. News and World Report and
get others to report to me on some of the other magazines.
What about what we might call relaxing.
Now at Clemson I always made it a point to read a good daily paper every
day. And they got the State up there and so I read
that.
Oh, Columbia State.
Yeah. Because that covered where I lived at Edgefield and I was accustomed to reading that paper. I started reading that paper when I was six years old.
Today, do you do any television watching?
Don't have time much. I listen to the radio while I'm exercising and dressing. Occasionally I watch the T.V. but not very often.
Nothing regular, six thirty news or something?
Yeah, something like that if I'm home.
You don't play an instrument do you?
No.
Sing?
No.
What do you do to relax, I mean, you have to relax sometime.
Well, I don't really do anything relaxing. I run, but that's in the mornings.
I mean, do you and Mrs. Thurmond and the kids just go somewhere?
Well, I take a massage or sit in the bath. I try to do it normally, I can't do it this year—I'm so busy. Once a week, we adjourn, I try to get a massage once a week, sit in the bath. But the jogging and exercising keeps you in pretty good shape. See, I do about twenty minutes of calisthenics every morning. Twisting, bending, pull ups, kick ups, and things of that kind. And then lift weight five minutes, and then run two and a half, three miles. I ran three and a quarter miles this morning. I generally run from two and a half to three and a half.
Every day, seven days a week.
Well, every day, unless there's something that comes up. I mean, you might be out late some night, one or two o'clock and have an early appointment. Now tomorrow morning I may not run because I promised to jog with some people in Spartenburg tomorrow afternoon at 6:00.
A.M.?
Spartenburg, South Carolina.
Yeah, what time are you going to be there?
Six o'clock tomorrow afternoon. I'm going to leave here about four something to go to Spartenburg. They just wanted to jog with me, some at the Y.M.C.A. down there.
Good. Can you describe when you were studying for law. You didn't go to law school did you?
No, I studied under my father.
How did you do that, he would just tell you what to read?
Well the Supreme Court proscribed—the other courts would have to read
them. So I got those books, my father had most of 'em, so I got those
books and read 'em. Then, if I came across something that I didn't
quickly understand, instead of having to go and look it up and wasting
time, I'd just ask him and he could answer like that.
But you read three years . . .
Well, I'd hang around the court room a lot. And I had been—before I took the bar—I furnished my own office as Superintendent of Education. I moved down next to his law office, right next door to before I was admitted to the bar. In fact I tried three cases before I was admitted to the bar.
You could do that?
Well, I had to get permission.
From the judge.
Yeah. He had a heart attack and couldn't argue a case in the Supreme Court. And Chief Justice Blease gave him permission for me to argue the case for him. It was a case about illegitimates, with so, I won the case.
You won the case?
Yeah. That was before I was admitted to the bar. Let's see, I was admitted in 1930, so this must have been about 1929 I guess.
How was that test administered, to the bar?
Well you stand three days. You have three different examiners—each one examines you for a day on certain subjects and the other ones on other subjects.
Was this an oral exam?
No, it was written. And the next case was in the Surrogate Court, that's the highest trial court in the common. A man was killed at a railroad crossing, pressed a charge. My father had the case, and he had another heart attack and couldn't try that. So I tried that particular one too. I had learned to try cases pretty well from just watching him try cases, see, over the years.
In the third case—I started at the Supreme Court and came on down. The
third case was in Greenville—the man was charged with having a hog with
cholera—in the Magistrate's Court. So I went up to defend him, didn't
charge him anything—he was from Edgefield and a friend of
Oh, who had this disease.
A fellow Wood was charged with selling hogs with cholera. That's against
the law you see. Except what the law says, who knowingly does. Well, he said he didn't know and argued before the
jury. I remember Dr. Barnett who was the father of some Barnett boys in
Greenville, a good friend of mine now, was a veterinarian. He testified
that they had cholera. And I remember I had taught agriculture and I
knew something about those things. And I had good many bulletins from
Clemson on various subjects. I asked him if he was familiar with a
certain man who taught at Clemson and who was an expert on this subject.
He said, yeah. I said, would you mind taking this bulletin here and read
what it says about hog cholera. And I had marked the portions and its
says the only way you can definitely if a hog has cholera—'course there
are other symptoms—the only way you can definitely tell for sure, is to
make a post mortem. So I had him read that to the jury. And then I said,
now did you make a post mortem. He said, No. I said, well then you
couldn't definitely tell then. At any rate, we cleared the man.
About the military, when did you first become interested in a military career?
Clemson. I was offered a commission in the army I believe when I
finished. But I didn't take it, I was put in the commission in the
reserve.
So you were in the reserves?
I was in the reserves.
Any relationship between Edgefield and it's prominent people—military has anything to do with that?
Yeah, they're rather military minded, and defense minded, we always have been.
I also think maybe the war would have something to do with that.
That's right, World War I.
Well, and even the Confederate war, reconstruction, that was a tough chapter there.
Yeah, that's right. Oh yeah. Every year Miss Woodson would come to the
school and conduct exercises and tell all about the Confederate war.
That it was fought not over slavery, it was fought on the right to
secede—the state's had to join the union voluntarily, they had the right
to secede voluntarily. Which seemed to make sense, you know.
I've got a couple of questions on that later on. I just wanted to get this one point about your military career. Have you ever thought of a career in military service, you know a regular army rather than, say, politics?
Well, I considered it when I was a senior in college. But I decided I'd
rather just take the commission in reserve and be available if war ever
came rather than go in full time military. Because I could make more
money in civilian life, and I felt I could show more initiative. It took
ten years then to go from second to a first lieutenant. I mean, it
wasn't enough incentive there, if you
You married rather late.
Yeah.
Why.
Well, my father died in 1934 and my mother lived on and didn't die until 1958. After he died my sister was there teaching school.
This is your older sister?
No, the younger sister, Mary Tompkins. She married Mr. Tompkins and they lived on in the house, the home house, and my mother lived there with them. Later she moved over into town. But at any rate, I guess, having a mother and a sister to kind of look after that part of that—meals and such as that. And then, I could go and come. And another thing, I wouldn't be tied down, because I felt sooner or later I'd go into politics. I started making contacts when I was teaching school, I felt sooner or later I'd end up in statewide politics. So I could make more contacts—if I'd had a wife it'd hold you back. Have to come home every night, or you'd have to be in by a certain time, take your wife out. And whereas I felt being unfettered that I could make my own schedule wouldn't inconvenience anybody. But then after I got to be governor why—in other words I had gotten there then so it was feasible.
You'd arrived, right.
Did you almost—this is maybe asking too much—but did you say, well, it's time to get married. Almost like that?
Yeah. I'd sort of like to get married and have a family. But I didn't have any children by my first wife.
Who would've been the most important women in your life. Have there been some dominant women?
I guess your mother probably, of course, is the most important. I think another important lady was Miss Gloria Tompkins I mentioned who was my Sunday School teacher when I was a kid. Another was Miss Mamie Tillman who was wife of Jim Tillman who lieutenant governor who killed Gonzales.
Mamie Norris Tillman, is that who that is?
Yeah. She was very active in matters. She was so interested in history, and always interested in people. And I admired her very much because of her public spiritedness in the community. And then, my wives.
Your first political office, if we want to call it political, was Superintendent of Education, because