Eduard Lindeman, Julius Foust, and the Ku Klux Klan

On February 16, 1922, President Julius Foust was sent a letter from unidentified members of "Gate City Klan #19" in which they "respectfully refer to your worthy attention on Professor E.C. Lindeman, who is a member of your faculty." Specifically, the Ku Klux Klan members were reporting to Foust that "this party recently gave a social function in his home to negroes in spite of the requests not to do so." The letter continued that "such actions as he has displayed in your institution are not in keeping with our local and southern customs, to say nothing of the fact that a man of such influences is not entirely appropriate in a Christian institution." They asked that Foust immediately fire Lindeman.

Lindeman in 1938,
photo courtesy University of Kentucky Special Collections

Eduard C. Lindeman had been hired by Foust in 1919 as head of the sociology and economics department at the North Carolina College for Women (now UNCG). Lindeman was a native of St. Clair, Michigan, a graduate of Michigan State University, and a highly regarded scholar of urban sociology and social research methods. Under his direction, the department supplemented its existing courses on rural social problems with courses on social institutions, social and community organization, and social psychology. He was also very active in national and regional professional organizations, serving as secretary and newsletter editor of the American Country Life Association. He was also considered (although not selected) for the position of state commissioner of public welfare in 1920.

But, Lindeman soon faced issues that would impact his position at NCCW. On May 16, 1921, President Foust was sent an anonymous letter from someone who had attended a talk by Lindeman at West Market Street Methodist Church. The letter writer expressed concern that Lindeman "put his interest in the rising generation almost above everything, even his love for Jesus Christ." The writer argued that "the church as we know it is of little consequence to him [Lindeman]." The letter concludes with an assessment that Lindeman's "teaching may work hard instead of good." Foust forwarded the letter to Lindeman to ask for explanation, and Lindeman responded that the letter was "such an unfair estimate of what I said that I do not care to discuss it without knowing the writer."

Less than a year later, Foust received the letter from the local Klan about his "social function." Lindeman wrote a formal statement of the events of the party to clarify the situation for Foust. His wife learned that their cook was planning a birthday party for 19 people in her one-room quarters in the basement, an area ill-equipped for a party of that size. Mrs. Lindeman suggested that she use one of the back rooms in the main portion of the house for the party. The cook then discussed the party with a friend, a cook in another Greensboro home, on the telephone. Lindeman reported that he did not know "what was said in this telephone conversation, but evidently the cook who received the information seemed to regard it as most unusual that Mrs. Lindeman would allow colored people in the up-stairs portion of the house, and she evidently conveyed this information to other white persons." Before Mr. Lindeman arrived home at 5pm that day, Mrs. Lindeman had already received "several telephone calls, a call in person by two men who claimed to be representatives of a daily paper, et cetera."

Letter to Foust from "Gate City Klan #19," February 16, 1922

The cook actually had fewer guests than expected at her party, and they remained in her quarters in the basement. But the rumors persisted and spread across campus and through Greensboro. A reporter called the Lindeman home. Foust called Lindeman into a meeting. And then the letter was received from the local Klan. By this point, Lindeman noted, the rumor "had reached such proportions that it was being said that Mrs. Lindeman had invited the persons who attended the party, that she had provided the refreshments, that the attendants came to the main portion of the house, that she had been warned not to hold the party, and even that she herself had played bridge with the colored persons present."

The rumors didn't stop, and Lindeman felt that Foust and the college were not publicly supporting him in the matter. On April 4, 1922, Lindeman wrote to Foust that "during the past several weeks, I have been definitely considering the problem of severing my connection with the College." He asked that Foust accept his resignation, effective at the end of the academic year.

Foust forwarded Lindeman's resignation to the Board of Directors for consideration at their next meeting. In an April 21, 1922, letter to Judge J.D. Murphy of Asheville, Foust wrote that "Lindeman is an exceedingly brilliant man, but it lacking in good judgement. He could have been a wonderful asset to the college if he had only exercised a reasonable amount of good common sense." He also noted that he had "heard nothing from the KKK and assume that these parties have dropped the matter. I have of course said nothing except when I was forced to do so."

Yet, Lindeman's resignation sparked local media to question whether or not the Klan was influencing administrative decisions at NCCW. Foust blanched at reporters' suggestions that he was allowing "the Ku Klux Klan to dictate the policy of this college." He did, however, place the blame for the incident solely at the feet of Lindeman. In a letter to C.H. Mebane on May 10, 1922, Foust wrote that, after receiving the letter from the KKK, his "position at the time was to treat the whole incident with silent indifference, because any publicity given it is really advertising the Klan." He noted, "I thought everything would pass off quietly, but Lindeman simply cannot refrain from talking."

On May 31, 1922, the Board of Directors issued a statement noting that Lindeman's resignation "was done voluntarily." They also stated "emphatically" that the Ku Klux Klan "had absolutely nothing to do with Professor Lindeman's resignation or its acceptance." The Board reiterated its support of "the position of President Foust, who has repeatedly stated publicly and privately that the authorities of the college had not been and will not be influenced in any manner by the Klan or any such organization."

After leaving NCCW, Lindeman continued his work, first serving as a freelance reporter and then, in 1924, becoming professor of social philosophy at the New York School of Social Work. Lindeman continued his work in areas of adult education, community organization, group work, and labor management problems. He even earned the attention of the McCarthy committee for his "Democratic Christian Socialist social philosophy." He remained at the New York School of Social Work until his retirement in 1950. He died three years later, on April 13, 1953. Reportedly, on his last day alive, he said, "This is a beautiful country. Don’t let McCarthy spoil it."

The Motown Invasion of 1968/69

18 year old Stevie Wonder during his
1968 UNCG performance

In the late 1960s and into the early 1970s, the advancing struggle for civil rights infused nearly every facet of the UNCG and the Greensboro community. The Greensboro environment of this time, while being a volatile scene for race relations, enjoyed musical performances from some of the great African American musicians of the era. Artists touring through the city included Marvin Gaye in 1965, the Preservation Hall Jazz Band in 1969, and the Jackson 5 performed at the Greensboro Coliseum on December 28^th, 1970. In addition to performing within the typical entertainment venues of the city, the UNCG campus attracted a respectable share of these musicians, and if you happened to be a Motown fan during the 1968/69 school year, you were in heaven.  

The King of Beach Music, Clifford Curry

Kicking off the Fall Charlies of the 1968/1969 school year was none other than Stevie Wonder. Wonder, who was 18 years old at this time, (and noted as unmarried to the interested readers of the student newspaper), opened his performance with “Your Precious Sweetheart.”  Wonder tried to engage the audience into participating in “The Look of Love,” but the lackluster clapping and vocal accompaniment by the audience prompted the remark, “I don’t hear you say nothing’- sounds like Governor Wallace.” During his performance, these students were treated to Wonder’s amazing talent, not only in voice and piano, but also percussion and harmonica. When asked to define the nature of Soul Music, Wonder’s replied, “’Soul’ is a feelin; it’s being capable of expressing oneself and for me all I can do is express myself through music. Anyone can have ‘Soul.’ The quality of expression determines the depth of ‘Soul.”

The Shirelles

Following Stevie Wonder in the concert series was none other than the “King of Beach Music,” Clifford Curry. Curry, originally from Knoxville, was a veteran of the 1950s doo-wop scene, having performed with The Echoes and the Five Pennies. Curry’s recording of, “She Shot a Hole in My Soul,” catapulted him to fame in the Carolina Beach Music scene, and  he recorded successfully in this market for decades. In 1995, Curry was inducted to the Beach Music Hall of Fame, and his latest CD, a compilation of his hits, was released in 2010.

Of course, Valentine’s Day was reserved for the ladies. The Shirelles, one of the pioneer “girl groups” of the 1950s and 1960s, performed in the Cone Ballroom for the “couples only” Valentine’s Day Dance on February 15^th, 1969. The original members of the Shirelles, Shirely Owens, Addie “Micki” Harris, Doris Coley, and Barbara Lee, began recording in 1958. The Shirelles was one on the first girl groups to make it to the Billboard Top 100, rocketing to fame with the hit, “Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow.” They recorded several hits through the 1960s, including "Tonight's the Night," Dedicated to the One I Love," Mama Said," and "Soldier Boy." The Shirelles have been inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame and the Vocal Group Hall of Fame.          

Walter Clinton Jackson, Race, and WC Resources

Throughout the first seven decades of its existence, the institution now known as UNCG grappled with a number of questions regarding facility use by students from neighboring colleges, particularly the nearby African-American institutions such as North Carolina A&T and Bennett College.

Interior of the College Library, circa 1923

As early as February 1929, administrators were discussing use of the Library by students from A&T. Then Vice President (and later Chancellor) Walter Clinton Jackson wrote College President Julius Foust on February 15, 1929, requesting that an A&T student be allowed to borrow books from the College Library. Jackson wrote, “it seems to me rather incongruous that we should refuse a little courtesy of this kind to a neighbor institution, even though a negro institution. It is a very small matter, in a way, but it has large consequences so far as the Negroes are concerned.”

Foust agreed to discuss the matter with the College Librarian and “do anything we can to aid these students.” He quickly added, however, that Jackson should be acutely award “that certain embarrassments may arise in our attempt to do what they request” and that he “doubt[ed] the wisdom of permitting negro students to take the books out of our library.” While he agreed to consider the idea, Foust added that he would ask the Librarian to consult with Dr. Anna Gove, the student health coordinator, to learn more “about the danger that may arise from disease if these students are permitted to take the books and use them when our students must use them when they are returned to the library.”

Jackson’s decision to support the use of the WC Library by African-American students ran counter to the Jim Crow laws that were prevalent across North Carolina at the time. Jackson, however, was well known as a champion of racial equality. He arrived at the institution then known as State Normal in 1909 to lead the history department. A native of Georgia, he studied at Mercer University and spoke frequently on the topic of race relations in American history. Although he was forced to work within the framework of the segregated South, he served as chairman of local, state, and southern regional Commissions on Interracial Cooperation. From 1938 to 1953, he served as chairman of the Board of Trustees at Bennett College.

Walter Clinton Jackson, 1948

Throughout his sixteen-year tenure as Woman’s College chancellor (1934-1950), Jackson opened many venues for progress and collaboration between WC and its neighboring educational institutions, including those that were African American. In a June 17, 1935, letter to Charlotte Hawkins Brown, he expressed dismay that WC would not be able to openly welcome students from Brown’s Palmer Institute, a school for African Americans in Sedalia, North Carolina, just outside of Greensboro. After Brown declined to bring her students to a music performance at the WC due to the segregated seating requirements, Jackson wrote, “I hope the time will speedily come when difficulties which confront us may be more easily resolved.”

State laws and regulations, however, did not support open sharing of resources between WC and its African-American neighbor institutions. “Separate but equal” policies resulted in the segregation of public schools, public spaces, transportation, restrooms, restaurants, and drinking fountains. Since 1901, North Carolina state law had explicitly required separate facilities for the consumption of library materials by white and black citizens. While a number of prominent North Carolinians, including Governor W. Kerr Scott (1949-1953), believed in extended some degree of civil liberties to African Americans, the general consensus across the state favored the continuation of segregationist policies.

Jackson’s willingness to push these boundaries and search for concessions whenever possible led to him being recognized as a “pioneer in the field of better race relations” when he received an honorary doctorate from Bennett in 1949. While Jackson was no longer Chancellor when the WC was officially desegregated in 1956, he stood as an early leader in creating a more open and accepting campus.