Winthrop University - Tatler Yearbook (Rock Hill, SC)

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Uk gferg of 'lbinflirop BRILLIANT midsummer sun was shining down upon a typical New England farm-house which stood stiff and sternly erect as a Puritan should. to meet the darts of the Heavenly Archer. To one side stretched the cranberry patch. Up and down the rows, filling her pail with the tempting red fruit, a woman passed to and fro. The swish of her garments, the rustle of the bushes, the tinkle of the berries as they fell into the pail, were the only sounds that disturbed the noonday stillness. There was nothing to indicate that this day was to be unlike the days that had preceded it-that it was to be the birthday of a new life that was to affect most powerfully the old life of a far-away Southern State. The sun shone hotter and hotter, the berries fell faster and faster into the pail. The stillness was broken by another sound. the sound of horses' feet, as a carriage came swiftly into view and paused in front of the house. A stranger dismounted, walked with quick, determined steps to the door, lifted the knocker, and waited. He was a man with a mission. An idea had taken possession of him. You saw it in his eye. You read it in his walk. You felt its presence even though you did not know its name. in a few moments the door openedg he gave his card to the servant and was ushered into the dim, quiet parlor to wait. The servant walked swiftly to the cranberry patch and handed the card to the picker of fruit, who read aloud in her surprise, D. R. johnson, Colum- bia, South Carolina. VVhat can the gentleman from South Carolina want with me? Giving her pail to the servant, she hurried to the house. The gentle- man from South Carolina arose to meet her as she entered the dimly lighted parlor. The dreamer of a dream that had scarcely yet been dreamed. the super- intendent of a school that was to be, the president of a college that was yet unborn, looked into the eyes of the woman who was to be the first teacher of the visionary school, the teacher who could help to make such a school as he dreamed of a reality. Mr. D. B. Johnson and Miss Mary H. Leonard shook hands, and then he told her of his mission. He had dreamed a dream, he had seen za vision, and he was seeking means to realize this vision, to make this dream come true. He had experienced a great need. As organizer and superintendent of a new system of schools in Columbia, S. C., the need had pressed heavily upon him-the need of trained teachers in his work. There was plenty of fine material going to waste in South Carolina. Some means for utilizing this material must be found. Filled with this idea, he had gone forth seeking aid. He had obtained a private inter- view with President Cleveland, a member of the Peabody lloard. From Wfash- ington he had gone to Boston to see Robert C. VVinthrop, the President of the Peabody Board. To him he unfolded all his plans and received immediately Mr. VVinthrop's hearty endorsement and promise of assistance at the next meet- 19 . - ,-.Bw-.Hil...-..ii.. ,,..-.. . .- - .. ,-..... -...,...v...? W. Y

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ing of the Board. From Boston Mr. Johnson had gone to the celebrated Bridgewater Normal to find a teacher for the new school. Miss Mary H. Leonard had been recommended, and he had driven out to see her. After talking to Miss Leonard, Mr. Johnson was convinced that he needed her services, and she on her part promised to give them should the visionary school materialize. It did, and very rapidly. The following fall saw some sixteen bright, intelligent young women of Columbia in a modest little brick chapel belonging to the Theological Seminary, reciting their first lesson to Miss Mary H. Leonard, Mr. Johnson looking on with proud delight, for his prophetic eye discerned clearly that this was the beginning of the end to which he looked forward. Those sixteen young women were having a hard time' of it. Blazing the way for others is never an easy task. So impressed were the superintendent and the teachers that upon this pioneer work depended the realization of the vision, that they never let up for one minute in their requirements of those first raw recruits. For the next few years that training school became in very truth what one of its members had facetiously dubbed it, a straining school : it was pressing onward towards its mark of higher callingf' and it attained it. VVitness its triumph in these very words, recorded in the Act of the Legislature, which touched with its wand, that little training school and turned it into the great Vtfinthrop Normal and Industrial College. et Y lt being understood that this Act is to effect an enlargement and continuation of the life of the Wfinthrop Training School for Teachers, it it if and is a recognition of the good work done by the school the past six years in training teachers for the common schools of the Statef, O, ye sixteen of blessed memory, not in vain did you weep tears of anguish over lesson-plans. Not in vain did you walk the market-place seeking brains of sheep, or cow, or hog, you cared not which, for you dared not go into the presence of Miss Mary H. Leonard to give a lesson on brains without brains. Not in vain did you stand meekly in that presence to receive the criticism on that lesson given with or without brains. Not in vain were you torn to pieces so that there was not enough of you left to keep company with your sad thoughts. Your lesson-plans have lived in thousands and tens of thousands of lesson- plans wrung from the reluctant students of the VVinthrop of today. Your object-lessons, with or without brains, have been duplicated times without number in the institution which your good work has made possible. Never forget that the Wfinthrop Normal and Industrial College, wonderful as it is, great as it is and ever should be, is but the sequel of the story that you have helped to write. the story that was begun on that hot summer day when Mr. johnson went forth in search of a teacher and found her in the cranberry patch. Students of the old Vtfinthrop, and students of the new Wfinthrop as well, never forget that we owe a debt of gratitude to that splendid, magnetic, enthusiastic teacher, Miss Mary H. Leonard, who wrote so well her part of the story that neither time nor eternity can ever efface the writing. 20