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Series 4 - Echoes in Action


Echo 22 - Professor Charles N. Hunter: A Principal Who Demanded Better


Manchester, Cumberland County, North Carolina — 1926


In November 1926, Professor Charles N. Hunter sat down to write a letter to W. F. Credle, director of the Rosenwald Fund in Raleigh, North Carolina. Hunter was the principal of the Manchester School, where a new school building was being prepared for Black children in the Manchester community.


What he had to say was not particularly encouraging.


On November 3, Hunter reported that a truckload of desks and stoves had arrived for the school. Rather than the new furnishings one might expect for a new building, the desks were old, broken, and discarded.


There were 22 desks. None had seats attached. Many lacked book shelves. All were damaged and worn.


Three stoves had also arrived, two large and one small. All were old and broken.


Hunter reported that the school had been instructed to use the old seats from the previous building. Most of those, too, were broken and unsuitable.


And that was not all.


No blackboards had been sent. There were no wood supplies, no toilet facilities, no crayons, no erasers, no water buckets and dippers, and no desks or chairs for the teachers.


Hunter ended his letter with a pointed observation:


"You will see the conditions when you return. Don't let it be known that I have informed you. You can see for yourself."


Those words provide a glimpse into the difficult position of a Black school principal attempting to secure adequate facilities and equipment for his students in the segregated South.


A New School for Manchester


The Manchester School was part of the Rosenwald school-building program, an initiative that helped finance thousands of schools for Black children across the rural South.


The Manchester Rosenwald School was constructed during the 1926–1927 budget year on two acres of land in Cumberland County, in the community now associated with Spring Lake.


The school followed a four-teacher building plan and had a reported construction cost of $4,700.


Funding came from three sources:


  • Black community contributions: $750

  • Public funds: $2,850

  • Rosenwald Fund: $1,100


The contributions of Black residents were particularly significant. Families and community members helped finance a school for children who were educated in a segregated public school system.


The building stood on property associated with Bethel African Methodist Episcopal Zion Church, a congregation with roots reaching back to the nineteenth century.


For the Manchester community, the new school represented an investment in its children's future.


A Principal Who Spoke Up


The surviving correspondence from October through December 1926 shows that Hunter was actively involved in efforts to address problems surrounding the new school.


In letters to Credle, Hunter raised concerns about the building, its furnishings, and the conditions under which teachers and students were expected to work.


His November 3 letter was especially direct. He described what had been delivered, what was broken, and what was missing.


He did not simply say the equipment was inadequate. He provided specifics.


The response from Credle, dated November 6, suggests that Hunter's concerns were justified.


Credle acknowledged that he had been disappointed in the Manchester School and promised to work toward bringing the building up to a reasonable standard.


He also indicated that payment would be withheld until improvements were made and the building was adequately equipped.


For Hunter, however, the immediate concern was not simply construction or payment. It was the condition of the school in which children would learn and teachers would work.


More Than a Building


The Manchester Rosenwald School was more than a structure of wood, windows, desks, and classrooms.


It was a place where Black children in a rural community could receive an education, where teachers worked to prepare young people for their futures, and where families invested in opportunities that had too often been denied or limited.


A newspaper notice published in Fayetteville on May 29, 1935, offers another glimpse into the school's place in the community.


Cumberland County Health Officer Dr. M. T. Foster announced a schedule of vaccination clinics for June. Among the designated locations was Manchester School, identified in the newspaper as a school for Black children.


Vaccinations were scheduled there on Thursdays, June 6, 13, 20, and 27, at 9 a.m.


The notice demonstrates that Manchester School remained an identifiable community institution in 1935, although it does not establish whether the original Rosenwald building was still standing.


At some point, the Manchester Rosenwald School building was destroyed by fire. The date has not yet been established.


Remembering Professor Hunter


Much about Charles N. Hunter remains unknown.


His birthplace, family, education, and years of service at Manchester have not yet been established. Additional research may eventually reveal where he taught before arriving in Manchester and where his career took him afterward.


But the letters he wrote in 1926 preserve something important about him.


He was a principal who recognized that his students and teachers deserved better than broken desks, worn-out stoves, and classrooms without essential supplies.


He documented the deficiencies and brought them to the attention of someone who might be able to help.


Nearly a century later, his words remain a reminder that the history of Black education is not only the history of buildings constructed or money raised. It is also the history of educators who worked to ensure that those buildings could serve the children for whom they were intended.


Professor Charles N. Hunter was one of those educators.



Sources and research notes


  • North Carolina Division of Negro Education, Rosenwald Fund correspondence, Manchester School, October–December 1926.

  • Rosenwald school records, Manchester School, Cumberland County, North Carolina, application 36-F, budget year 1926–1927.

  • Fayetteville, North Carolina, newspaper, May 29, 1935, vaccination clinic schedule announced by Dr. M. T. Foster. Newspaper title to be confirmed.

  • North Carolina Historic Preservation Office, Manchester School survey record, CD1800.


Research continues into Professor Hunter's life and the date of the school's destruction by fire


 
 
 

Series 4 - Echoes in Action


Echo 21 - Booker T. Williams: Cultivating Knowledge, Preparing Generations


If you attended Johnsonville High School before the integration of Harnett County schools, Benhaven High School afterward, or Western Harnett High School following the consolidation of three western Harnett County high schools, chances are you knew B.T. Williams. Whether you were enrolled in one of his agriculture classes or not, you knew who he was. He was one of those teachers whose presence extended beyond the classroom and whose name became familiar to generations of students.


Booker Taliaferro Williams, known to students and colleagues simply as B.T. Williams, devoted 31 years to education. His career spanned a period of significant change in public education, from segregated schools through integration and school consolidation.


His story is part of a larger history of African American educators whose work extended beyond the classroom. They taught practical skills, encouraged self-sufficiency, and helped prepare students for opportunities beyond the communities in which they were raised.


From Louisiana to North Carolina


Booker T. Williams was born September 3, 1916, in Louisiana. He attended Grambling College and earned both bachelor's and master's degrees in vocational agriculture from North Carolina A&T State University.


Williams also served in the United States Army during World War II.


An Educator in the Sandhills


Over his 31-year career, Williams taught vocational agriculture at Johnsonville High School, Benhaven High School, and Western Harnett High School. His teaching career also included instructing World War II veterans at Fuquay High School.


Agricultural education was particularly important in rural communities, where farming provided both a livelihood and a foundation for family and community life. Students learned skills that could be applied on farms, in their homes, and in future occupations.


In July 1961, Williams delivered the main address at a Farmers' Day program held at Spout Springs Presbyterian Church. Speaking on the importance of farmers to the American economy, he also discussed changing farming methods and encouraged young people to remain involved in agriculture.


His participation reflected the connection between agricultural education and community life.


For African American students attending segregated schools, teachers like Williams provided instruction during a time when educational opportunities and resources were unequal.


The integration of Harnett County schools in the fall of 1969 and the subsequent consolidation of western Harnett County high schools brought changes to the educational landscape. Williams continued teaching through these transitions, eventually completing his career at Western Harnett High School.


A Career Remembered

Williams retired on January 31, 1980. A retirement dinner held in his honor on January 26 at Western Harnett High School drew more than 125 people, including family members, colleagues, former students, and representatives of the North Carolina Department of Public Instruction.


Those who spoke recalled not only his contributions to agricultural education but also his influence on students.


Eugene Driver, Harnett County's director of vocational education, praised Williams' contributions to the county. Mrs. H.M. Cagle, a member of the local advisory board, recalled that Williams had taught four of her children and had made a lasting impression on them.


Gary Kelly, president of the Western Harnett student body, described Williams as respected and liked.


Williams himself was remembered for his approach to teaching and his interest in enriching students' minds beyond agricultural instruction.


Family, Faith, and Community

Williams and his wife, the former Ethel Patterson, shared 72 years of marriage. Ethel, a Harnett County native, worked as a guidance counselor at Harnett Central High School.


Their family included sons Booker T. Williams, Jr., and Reynauld Williams.


The family maintained ties to the Shawtown community and Wesley Chapel A.M.E. Zion Church in Lillington.


His son, Booker T. Williams, Jr., graduated as valedictorian of Shawtown High School in 1965, a reminder of the educational accomplishments that emerged from the community during segregation.


Booker T. Williams died on April 11, 2018, at the age of 101. His funeral was held at Wesley Chapel A.M.E. Zion Church, where he was laid to rest.


Remembering the Educators


The history of education in the Sandhills is more than a history of school buildings, enrollment figures, and changing school districts. It is also the history of the individuals who entered classrooms each day, taught generations of children, and contributed to the development of their communities.


Booker T. Williams was among those educators.


His 31 years in education represent an important chapter in the history of Johnsonville, Benhaven, Western Harnett, and the African American educational experience in Harnett County.


His story reminds us that the legacy of a school is carried not only in its buildings, but also in the lives of those who taught and learned within its walls.


If you attended Johnsonville, Benhaven, or Western Harnett and remember B.T. Williams, we invite you to share your memories. What do you remember most about him?


Echoes from the Sandhills is a historical storytelling series of the Sandhills Family Heritage Association, dedicated to preserving the people, places, and experiences that shaped our communities.


Honoring Our Past, Inspiring Our Future.






 
 
 

On History, Humanity, and the Stories We Tell


People are people. They always have been.


Our ancestors were no less human than we are today. They experienced joy and sorrow, triumph and defeat, courage and fear. They made sacrifices, exercised poor judgment, seized opportunities, and sometimes found themselves in circumstances where the choices before them were neither easy nor honorable. They loved, they struggled, they persevered, and they survived.


History is not a collection of perfect people making perfect decisions. It is the story of human beings navigating the world in which they lived, often under circumstances we can scarcely imagine.


Some of our ancestors accomplished extraordinary things. Others endured extraordinary hardships. Still others took extraordinary measures to provide for their families, preserve their dignity, or simply survive another day. Their decisions may not always withstand the scrutiny of hindsight, but neither should we presume to understand the weight of choices we were never forced to make.


Too often, when uncomfortable truths emerge from our family or community histories, we hear the familiar admonitions: “We don't talk about that.” “That doesn't need to be told.” “Leave that in the past.”


But silence does not change history. It merely determines which parts of it future generations will be permitted to know.


We cannot rightfully challenge the erasure and whitewashing of history while selectively concealing the chapters of our own past that make us uncomfortable. To do so would be to deny our ancestors the very thing this work seeks to restore: the fullness of their humanity.


These Echoes are not intended to glorify wrongdoing, excuse injustice, or diminish the suffering of others. Nor are they written to sit in judgment of people whose circumstances were often vastly different from our own. They are an effort to understand, to preserve, and to bear witness.


There is courage in survival. There is dignity in perseverance. There are lessons in misjudgment, wisdom in reflection, and sometimes profound humanity in decisions that history might otherwise condemn without explanation.


We owe our ancestors more than a polished account of their triumphs. We owe them the truth, as faithfully as the surviving record allows.


For history is not merely what happened long ago. It is the accumulation of lives, decisions, circumstances, and consequences that shaped the world we inherited.


We cannot fully understand who we are if we are unwilling to acknowledge all that came before us.


Let the record speak. Let the stories be told. Let our ancestors be remembered not as perfect people, but as people.


And let us trust future generations with the truth.

 
 
 
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