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.