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Oral History Interview with Edna Allen Dean
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[Start of VA01] [Pause 00:00 - 00:07] Oloye Adeyemon: Brown versus Board oral history research collection. Prince Edward County, Virginia. School segregation/desegregation interviews. Interviewee Mrs. Edna Dean. Interviewer, Oloye Adeyemon for the National Park Service. Interview conducted in the home of Mrs. Dean in Farmville, Virginia on August 28, 2001. These interviews are made possible through the Brown versus Board Oral History Research Project. Funded by the National Park Service in the Summer of 2001 as part of the Brown versus Board of Education National Historic Site Oral History Collection. Mrs. Dean, what is your full name? Edna Allen Dean: Edna Allen Dean. Oloye Adeyemon: What is your birth date? Edna Allen Dean: Ha, 8-13-38. Oloye Adeyemon: And where were you born? Edna Allen Dean: Farmville, Virginia. Oloye Adeyemon: And what were your parent’s names? Edna Allen Dean: My father’s name was Edward Allen, and my mother is Vera Allen. Oloye Adeyemon: And where were they born? Edna Allen Dean: Daddy was born here, uh, Prince Edward County is his home. And Charles City County is my mother’s home. Oloye Adeyemon: Where is Charles City County? What— Edna Allen Dean: Charles City County is on-is-is east of Richmond and it is a county that houses the five-five of the remaining plantations in Virginia. And it is also a county where many of the people who reside there in the early years were direct descendants of plantation owners. Oloye Adeyemon: Is that in the Jamestown area? Edna Allen Dean: No. It’s-it’s in the-it’s in the Richmond area. Oloye Adeyemon: Oh, it’s close to Richmond? Edna Allen Dean: Right, but, right. On Route—off of Route 5 in Richmond. Oloye Adeyemon: Okay. And did you have-do you have brothers and sisters? Edna Allen Dean: I have one sister, Awilda 02:00 Allen Isaac. Oloye Adeyemon: And what did your par-what did your parents do for a living? Edna Allen Dean: My mother has always been in education. She s-spent about 43 years in public education. Uh, daddy— Oloye Adeyemon: What cap-what capacity? Edna Allen Dean: Uh, she started out as-as-as a-as a teacher. Oloye Adeyemon: Where? Edna Allen Dean: Uh, in Albemarle County, when she came out of Virginia State College. And she then, when she and daddy married and she moved here, she taught, uh, a little bit in-in the two-room school right out in the Rice area. Um, and then she became a Jeanes supervisor in Cumberland County. Oloye Adeyemon: What is that? Edna Allen Dean: Uh, there were funds allocated by the Jeanes, uh, that’s J-E-A-N-E-S, Foundation out of Philadelphia I think. And they provided monies for supervision of negro teachers when the, uh, South began to expand their education, uh, segregated education to-to the elementary and high school level. And her responsibility was basically to serve as a consultant and, uh, advisor and teacher and whatever to negro teachers. Oloye Adeyemon: So she worked for the school district, but was paid through— Edna Allen Dean: She worked for the-she worked for the county— Oloye Adeyemon: - funds— Edna Allen Dean: - of Cumberland. Oloye Adeyemon: But was paid through a special grant. Edna Allen Dean: The grant came to the county. Oloye Adeyemon: And then she was— Edna Allen Dean: Yeah. Oloye Adeyemon: - paid, so she was actually working for them as a consultant through— Edna Allen Dean: Well, she was-she was considered a Jeanes super-supervisor. Oloye Adeyemon: A super— Edna Allen Dean: Yeah. Oloye Adeyemon: - paid through these special funds. Edna Allen Dean: Yeah. Through Jeanes funds. Oloye Adeyemon: And, so she lived here in Prince Edward County, but t-taught across the county— Edna Allen Dean: Right across the bridge. Oloye Adeyemon: - county line, across the bridge. Uh, Cumberland County is— Edna Allen Dean: Yeah. Oloye Adeyemon: - the county to the north of Prince Edward, is that right? Edna Allen Dean: To, yeah, I guess it’s kinda north. Yeah, I guess it’s kinda north. Oloye Adeyemon: And how long did she do that? How long was she— Edna Allen Dean: She was in Cumberland until she was fired. And she was fired right after the walkout. Both of my parents were fired. My dad was teaching agriculture to-through the Veteran’s Administration to, um, veterans who-who had come back from the war and were f-were farming. And he-he taught agriculture to them. He— Oloye Adeyemon: Where? Where? Edna Allen Dean: In Cumberland also. Oloye Adeyemon: At the— Edna Allen Dean: He—well-the-he— Oloye Adeyemon: Was it a school or? Edna Allen Dean: It-it was a-a program, I suppose, that—I’m not s-I’m not sure of all the connections. I know he taught in the evenings at the Cumberland Elementary School complex. Oloye Adeyemon: But these were not children he was teaching. These were adults. Edna Allen Dean: Oh, no. These were adults. These were men who had been in the war. Oloye Adeyemon: And were these-w-was he also working for the school district? Edna Allen Dean: No. He-he just-he-his program was housed. Oloye Adeyemon: Who-who actually, was the county doing this, the state? Edna Allen Dean: I’m not sure. I really don’t-I really don’t remember. I, see, ’cause see, there was also a program out of Virginia State that dealt with agriculture and that’s—I really don’t know. I was— Oloye Adeyemon: But he-he also was in business, right? Edna Allen Dean: - [crosstalk 04:59]. He didn’t go into business until ’48. He went into the funeral business in 1948. Daddy did a lotta things. He, uh, he taught. Oloye Adeyemon: But this was before he was fired in Cumberland. Edna Allen Dean: Yes. Oloye Adeyemon: So he was doing both at the same time. Edna Allen Dean: Yes. Yes. He always did a lotta things at the same time. Oloye Adeyemon: Was he-was he only the Black, uh-was he the only Black, uh, funeral director here in town? Edna Allen Dean: Oh, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no. There have been—we were kinda like the eighth-eighth. There was-there was a, uh, Hurst. The big funeral home is-is Bland-Reid. And we were kinda like just a small funeral home. Uh, in-in the area. Oloye Adeyemon: Okay. So, both your fam-both your parents, uh, were doing what I guess would be considered atypical jobs in a rural agricultural county where most Blacks were farming. Edna Allen Dean: Uh, yeah. They were, both of them were college graduates. They met in-at Virginia State. And, uh, Daddy used to teach public—when he first came outta school—he taught in public school. And I think he decided he didn’t really like that. Oloye Adeyemon: What was his major? Edna Allen Dean: Uh, I think it was agriculture. But he ended up teaching agriculture to the veterans. He also sold cars, refrigerators, electrical appliances. He was an electrician. Uh, he-he, you know, was kind of a jack of all trades. And-and-at, uh, then he decided to-to go into the funeral business because he said, um, Black people oftentimes didn’t leave their children anything except debts when they die. And White people have a tendency to leave them businesses. And he wanted to have something to leave us, so he went in-he and some other gentlemen, uh, formed a funeral home, and he became a funeral director. Oloye Adeyemon: So he had partners? Edna Allen Dean: Yeah. He had a couple partners when he first started. Oloye Adeyemon: And bought them out? Edna Allen Dean: And, eventually, yeah. Oh, I-I’m not sure if he bought ’em out or one of ’em died, but anyway. Oloye Adeyemon: What were their names? Edna Allen Dean: Uh, it was a Mr. Brown. It was originally his funeral home. He went in with him. And then there was a gentlemen from Keysville that also worked with him, uh, Talmich Wilson 00:06:58. And then, eventually, daddy owned the funeral home on his own. Oloye Adeyemon: That funeral home still exists today, right? Edna Allen Dean: Yeah. I’m the mortician. Oloye Adeyemon: Mm-hmm. And where is it located? Edna Allen Dean: Right behind us. It’s here in Farmville. It’s right next to my mother’s house. Oloye Adeyemon: On-on what street? Edna Allen Dean: On Griffin Boulevard. Oloye Adeyemon: And you’re still operating? Edna Allen Dean: Yeah. Every now and then when somebody calls us. Oloye Adeyemon: Not-not a full-time business anymore? Edna Allen Dean: Well, it’s a full-time business, but, uh, fortunately, I guess we all-we-we all have had a-had a history of working lots of jobs. I teach at Longwood College. I’ve been—this is my 22nd year there—and I also help—my-my mother owns the business. And I help her. Oloye Adeyemon: I see. Edna Allen Dean: I’m the mortician. I’m the only licensed person, uh, in the family. But, um, whenever, you know, we—people in the community know that I teach and— Oloye Adeyemon: I understand. Edna Allen Dean: - so it’s not like I-I have to juggle a lot. They basically allow us to work together. Oloye Adeyemon: I, uh, that was my next question. What do you do for a living? Edna Allen Dean: Uh, I-I-I-I teach. Oloye Adeyemon: What have you done and what do you do? Edna Allen Dean: Yeah. I am-I teach in the social work program at Longwood College. I’ve been there since 1980. And, um, I guess I’m one of the first Blacks to be tenured at Longwood. And I’m looking forward to retirement at the end of two or three. Oloye Adeyemon: And what did you, uh, what was your major? Edna Allen Dean: Um. Oloye Adeyemon: You’re-you’re undergrad [unintelligible 08:29] Edna Allen Dean: I went to Springfield College and I maj— Oloye Adeyemon: Where-where is that? Edna Allen Dean: That’s in Springfield, Massachusetts. Oloye Adeyemon: Okay. Edna Allen Dean: And I majored in recreation and youth leadership. And then I went to Columbia, where I received my master’s in social work. And then I got my PhD from Union Institute in Cincinnati. Oloye Adeyemon: So [unintelligible 08:51]? Edna Allen Dean: Mm-hmm. Union graduate school. Oloye Adeyemon: Right. So you have been—and after graduating from Union you—did you come back home at that point? Edna Allen Dean: No. No. No. I came back home in 1980 after my father’s death. Oloye Adeyemon: Okay. What did you do after graduating from Union? Edna Allen Dean: Oh, I-I-I-I’ve finished Union since I’ve been here at Longwood. Oloye Adeyemon: Oh. I see. Edna Allen Dean: See, with a m-with a—in a social work program the master’s degree in social work is-is basically the terminal degree. Oloye Adeyemon: I understand. Edna Allen Dean: So that, in terms of getting a position teaching, I qualified because I have a terminal degree. And then I just decided to challenge myself further. Oloye Adeyemon: Was that your first teaching position here? Edna Allen Dean: Uh, full time. I-I’ve taught, uh, part time at VCU. I taught here, uh, at Longwood part time in 1974 and 1975. And I’ve been kind of adjunct at UVA through some special programs. Uh, taught at Morgan, um, Morgan University in Baltimore, uh, part time. But, so long as my first full-time job, and, um, I came to Longwood. I was offered a job at Longwood following my father’s death. Um, prior to that, I worked for the State Department of Mental Health and Retardation, and Substance Abuse in Richmond where I was the assistant director of community mental health centers and clinics. Oloye Adeyemon: How long were you— Edna Allen Dean: I was there eight years. Oloye Adeyemon: From what years? Edna Allen Dean: Uh, from ’72, ’72 to ’80. And I came to— Oloye Adeyemon: Then you went to-to Longwood. Edna Allen Dean: After daddy died. I had started the mortuary school and, before he died, and, once he died, I was offered a job, full-time job, here teaching. And I was kinda tired of Richmond. It was getting to be a little difficult to manage. And I decided I wanted to come home, and I’ve been back here since. Oloye Adeyemon: And so you did go on to finish your training in-in mortuary? Edna Allen Dean: Oh, yeah. That, well, that-that’s a-a two-year program. But, because I already had several degrees I was able to finish it in well over a year. Um, and then I just got, you know, passed the National Boards and came on home to continue the business. Oloye Adeyemon: Okay. And your mother was also certified? Edna Allen Dean: No. My mother is-is just the owner. Oloye Adeyemon: Okay. She’s never actually worked— Edna Allen Dean: No. Oloye Adeyemon: - done the work as a— Edna Allen Dean: Oh, she works in the business, but she’s never had any formal training. Oloye Adeyemon: Never—training as a mortuary-as a-in mortuary. Edna Allen Dean: Yeah. The board doesn’t recognize her as anything but the owner. Oloye Adeyemon: I understand. I understand. So I’m gonna go back now and talk about your earliest memories of segregation. And, particularly, segregation in the schools. What elementary school did you go to? Edna Allen Dean: I went to Mary E. Branch. Uh, at that time we lived on Madison Street, which was right across from Longwood College, the back of the college. The building across the street was the town elementary school for White students. And we lived—the-the west side of us was a White neighborhood. The east side of us was Black. And our back-my backyard touched a family, a White families backyard, with three children. And we all grew up playing together. Uh, ’cause they would climb over the fence and play in our yard ’cause we had swings and stuff like that. And, when it was time to go to school, uh, one-one of the girls in that family named Kathleen said that they couldn’t play with us anymore. And I said why and she said, “Because we’re getting ready to go to school, and you’re colored and we’re White, and we can’t play together anymore.” Well, I don’t think I really understood quite what she was saying, so I came in and I asked Daddy. And he said, “Well, I’m hoping you won’t—by the time you grow up you really won’t have to deal along color lines. But it’s okay if she doesn’t wanna play. Uh, you’re gonna be going to school.” And see, Kathleen was going to school right across the street, I had to go to Mary E. Branch, which was maybe six or seven blocks in the opposite direction. My first day of school I was on my way to school and a little White girl stepped out of her house and picked up a piece of paper that had, uh, bird doo-doo on it, and smeared it on my d-dress. And we got in a big fight. And— Oloye Adeyemon: This is the first day of school. Edna Allen Dean: This was my first day of school. And, so I had to come back home and change my brand new dress, which was torn, and a little soiled. And Momma changed my clothes, and then she decided that she better take me to school. Walkin’ was obviously not something I needed to do again. Oloye Adeyemon: Your school experience was getting off to a bad start. Edna Allen Dean: So she took-she took me to school. And, you know, that was fine. Well, that evening, when Daddy came home, he, uh, Momma told him what happened, and, lo and behold, Daddy put me in the back seat of the car and we rode up the street. He told me to show him the house. And he got out and he walked up to the front door and rang the doorbell. Which was a total shock for the family there because Black people didn’t go to front doors, we went to back doors. And Daddy was going-knocking on the front door. And he basically told them what happened and that he was not gonna tolerate them bothering with his children. And they apologized. And, later on, the little girl and I became very, very good friends. Which her mother I don’t think really knew it. And she used to come by my house all the time. And I’d have her make up my bed and clean my room. And— Oloye Adeyemon: How’d you manage that? Edna Allen Dean: I just told her that’s what she had to do. Uh, and she did it. Oloye Adeyemon: No, but she wanted to be your friend. This was— Edna Allen Dean: She wanted to be my friend. Oloye Adeyemon: - this was the cost. Edna Allen Dean: I mean, we-we-we played together. We read books and, you know, we—but, she, you know, I said, you know, while you’re here why don’t you help me make up my bed? And she would make up the bed and I’d go do something else. And one day her mother ended up in my bedroom. And she found out she was down there doing things for me, and I—I know she smacked her and took her out the house and I don’t think I ever saw her again. But, uh, so my early memories of segregation were all a little traumatic, like. Oloye Adeyemon: Different too. Edna Allen Dean: I can laugh about it now, but I don’t think I laughed much in those days. I-I was very hurt when Kathleen, Stan-and Steven and Johnny said they couldn’t play with us anymore. And, ’cause they had nice parents, and the parents were very nice to my parents. Their fa-father owned a jewelry store. But, um, we-we managed it. We con-we continued to wave and kind of when nobody was lookin’ we’d stand at the back fence and talk. But, it was a whole different experience after that. Oloye Adeyemon: I think that that’s very important in understanding the backdrop of segregated schools in the South. Because people who read your transcript that are familiar with the busing, the attempts to integrate the schools that were de facto segregated in the North have a hard time understanding. I myself went to Black schools throughout my entire school, uh, schooling in Chicago and Cleveland. And it wasn’t until later that forced busing was used as a remedy because the neighborhoods that I grew up in were entirely Black for miles. The Southside of Chicago and the Eastside of Cleveland. And so, when you talk about integration, Blacks who lived in integrated neighborhoods in those cities went to integrated schools. But the experience for most Blacks and Whites in northern urban centers was segregation. Edna Allen Dean: Okay. Oloye Adeyemon: And, in the South, you had White children and Black children in Virginia, we talked to people in South Carolina, the farms were interspersed amongst each other. You know, I never had that experience of having White friends and then going to school and not being able to play with ’em. I never had any contact with Whites. And so, in the South, is it safe to say that the schools were used in part to socialize Whites and Blacks to kinda learn their place? Because it-if-if they had grown up as children playing together, that might not have come so automatically and so, it wasn’t just time to go to school, but it was time to kinda separate the White children and Black children who had been playing together. Edna Allen Dean: I think in the minds of adults that might have been what they were thinking ’cause I’m not sure—I-I-I-I’m not sure I really know how to answer that. Because, even many adults grew up playing across racial lines, and then— Oloye Adeyemon: You mean continue to do so. ’Cause I’m-I’m-what I’m getting at is that all the way back to the period of slavery the White and Black children— Edna Allen Dean: Played together. Oloye Adeyemon: - played together. Edna Allen Dean: Right. Oloye Adeyemon: But as, on the plantation, as the children got older there would begin to be a rigid division. Edna Allen Dean: Yeah. I think that was created by adults. The same way it is today. Because as adults began to think about relationships, their goal was to perhaps make sure that that did not happen. Even though we all know it was happening. Oloye Adeyemon: Yes. But, I guess, my question is, is it safe to say that generation after generation adult Whites accepted that responsibility of reinstituting this thing where you kind of learn now this is what is accepted? ’Cause I hear so many people say that as children— Edna Allen Dean: Well, I think we always knew where-I-I think we always knew our place. Because there were always constant reminders of it. But I think for many Black families they didn’t force that discussion on their children. Oloye Adeyemon: But Whites did. Edna Allen Dean: Whites did. They talked about it. We didn’t. Oloye Adeyemon: I should of said were the White schools a place where you think that occurred? Edna Allen Dean: That might have happened. Oloye Adeyemon: That’s what I should have said. Edna Allen Dean: Yeah. Um, see, even though I would have liked to have gone to school with Kathleen, ’cause she was my friend, I had Black friends. And all of them were going to Mary E. Branch. So it was like, that was okay, ’cause that’s where my friends were. Oloye Adeyemon: I guess I’m trying to deal with this statement that she’s making, the need to make this statement. That’s a statement that I don’t think Blacks ever would make or— Edna Allen Dean: Oh, I don’t— Oloye Adeyemon: - ever have thought about. Edna Allen Dean: - thi—no, I don’t think—no. No. No. Oloye Adeyemon: And I think it’s important in understanding how this attitude that existed among Whites as adults was perpetrated. Because it-it probably would have died were it not for a deliberate attempt to condition— Edna Allen Dean: And, see, I’m not even sure if her parents didn’t-if the discussion didn’t come up for the same reason it-it didn’t always come up-their discussion came up and ours didn’t. Oloye Adeyemon: Right. Edna Allen Dean: It was all a survival thing. Oloye Adeyemon: Exactly. Edna Allen Dean: Because, you know, when I really-when I really reflect back on it, when we would get outta school it was like, the first people we would go—you know, we would head to the backyard, they would head to the backyard—and it was like, you know, not go to school—but not-not, ’cause we weren’t in school, but it was like, every chance we had, we were playing with each other. And I-I-I-I never felt that her parents were staunch segregationists as such. But, more so, well these kids are getting ready to go to school, and they can’t carry-they can’t be in school talking about their Black friend. They’ll be ostracized. So it was really her family’s way of protecting her, more so than to reject us. And-and-and, yes, I think if-I think even along racial lines the educational directives were different. Oloye Adeyemon: Were different. Edna Allen Dean: Mm-hmm. Oloye Adeyemon: That was what I was kinda getting at. Edna Allen Dean: Yeah. Yeah. Oloye Adeyemon: Because we’re-we’re looking at a lot of these issues, uh, that result from the conditioning that existed during slavery. And I just thought that—that struck me as-as a very significant event. Edna Allen Dean: Okay. Oloye Adeyemon: For both of you. Edna Allen Dean: Yeah. Oloye Adeyemon: For both you and those children. In shaping, you know, your memories. I-I wonder if they remember having said that to you, or have ever thought— Edna Allen Dean: I don’t know because they-they left-they-they moved not long after that. And-and, uh— Oloye Adeyemon: Right. But it had to be significant for them to have played every day. They-they didn’t just think that up themselves. Edna Allen Dean: No. Oloye Adeyemon: Somebody told them that. Edna Allen Dean: No. No. Oloye Adeyemon: And I wonder if, in some cases, there were White children that rejected that and others that accepted it— Edna Allen Dean: Probably so. Oloye Adeyemon: - without any question. Without any— Edna Allen Dean: You know, it-it’s like, you know, when we would see each other it’s kinda like, you know, we’d smile and kinda wave. Uh, and I-I don’t think they-I don’t think they grew up in the kind of family where they were punished or anything, uh, but it-it-it was a way of life. Oloye Adeyemon: Status quo. Edna Allen Dean: Yeah. It was the way of life and, if you gonna survive in this town and this community, this is what you gotta do. Oloye Adeyemon: I understand. Didn’t wanna get off on that, but I think it’s important. Edna Allen Dean: Okay. Oloye Adeyemon: Very important incident. Um, and I think, again, we need to stress the fact that, um, in the South you seldom had the conditions as in the North where you had an urban area where Blacks were all living in one neighborhood and Whites are all in another. The families were often interspersed. Edna Allen Dean: Yeah. Yeah. Oloye Adeyemon: And that also, uh, was a difference when it came to integration because, if you went to the closest school, you were gonna go to school, both Blacks and Whites were— Edna Allen Dean: Right. Oloye Adeyemon: - gonna go to school together. Edna Allen Dean: Right. Right. Oloye Adeyemon: So, you finally got to school, you know, without any incident. Edna Allen Dean: I got to school. Oloye Adeyemon: What happened then? What were your experiences like? Edna Allen Dean: Uh, I just, I mean, I—my—going to school was-was great. I had marvelous teachers. I remember every teacher that I had for one reason or the other. Um— Oloye Adeyemon: Were they hard on you and strict? Edna Allen Dean: Basically they weren’t. There were a couple a teachers I think that, uh, singled out teacher’s children to be a little harder on. But Daddy kinda dealt with it. One—my father was very protective of his ladies, my mother and my sister and-and of me. And he did not allow people to mess with us. And a lot-a lot of the things that we have learned as adults that he, and-and sometimes Momma, did to protect us, uh, just is-has really been surprising because— Oloye Adeyemon: You didn’t know it at the time. Edna Allen Dean: Mm-mm. Oloye Adeyemon: Can you give us some examples? Edna Allen Dean: Oh, so, well, simple little things like, this doesn’t maybe have as much to do with-with-with segregation and integration, but I gu-I gu-I guess it does. We-we realized late in-in-in our lives that whenever we would go out, which wasn’t often, Daddy was never at home. We later learned that the reason he wasn’t at home, he was somewhere intercepting the young boys before they got to the house to tell him what his-what his expectations were. And, uh, to really intimidate them, which is probably why we didn’t go out any more than we did. Um, but I remember Mother, uh, was working one, uh, one-one time and-and a teacher cursed her out in a meeting. And she came home and she was a little bit upset and— Oloye Adeyemon: A male teacher? Edna Allen Dean: A male, yeah. A Black male teacher. And she, uh, told Daddy. And we sat down and we had dinner, and when dinner was over, Daddy got up and said, “I have to go out.” And Momma said, “Where you going?” He says, “I’ll-I’ll just be back.” Well he went out and took out a warrant against the teacher. Uh, and the teacher was eventually dismissed when the case went to court. Um, but he was j—that was the kind of thing, you know, that went on. Um, he knew all the police officers and he basically had an understanding with them that if we did anything— Oloye Adeyemon: White police officers. Edna Allen Dean: White police officers. If we did anything that was not appropriate they were not to touch us, but they were to find him. And I remember the day that the-that the, um, schools opened, uh, when it private—when—after—with the private academies. Uh, they had closed-closed the schools and they were starting the private academy. And the schools were technically closed— Oloye Adeyemon: Okay. Let me back up [crosstalk 25:52] — Edna Allen Dean: Let-let me back up. That was like, ’59. Oloye Adeyemon: Okay. And the Black schools were closed. I wanna come back to that. Edna Allen Dean: Yeah. Oloye Adeyemon: But the Black schools were closed, the Whites opened a private school. Edna Allen Dean: Right. They were opening the private school that day, and I think it was the 1959. But, anyway, uh, my girlfriend, Ivy Rollins, daughter of-of a Black doctor in town, we were both in college. And we decided that we were gonna go downtown and find out what was going on. So we had heard that they were selling paraphernalia in one of the-one of the department stores downtown. So we went downtown and decided we were gonna by t-shirts that said Prince Edward Academy. And they kept telling us why we shouldn’t buy them. They weren’t really appropriate, but we said no, you know, this is a public store and this is, uh, what we want. So they sold us these two t-shirts. So we came home and put the t-shirts on and then went back downtown wearing these t-shirts. Well, when Daddy came in that evening, he said, uh, “Baby sis, what’d you do today?” And I said, “Nothing much. Why?” He said, “Well the chief of police was waiting for me when I came in town and wanted to know when-when you would be leaving, going back to college. And if we were gonna have any trouble sending you.” So we told him what we did, and it was that kind of thing. But, um, like I said, those are the things that-that I remember happening. Uh, and-and, basically, I suppose we got away with a lotta stuff that maybe wasn’t—some of the stuff we did do was really like—we used to follow folk around. And ride through the neighborhood and look through the windows ’cause White people never pull their shades down. So we’d just ride through the neighborhood and be lookin’ and, uh— Oloye Adeyemon: On your bikes? Edna Allen Dean: No. Oloye Adeyemon: Or this is as adults? Edna Allen Dean: In-in the car. See, we-we could drive here at 14 and 15. Oloye Adeyemon: Okay. Edna Allen Dean: So we would just take the car and ride— Oloye Adeyemon: And your parents had a car at that time? Edna Allen Dean: Yeah. They had a car. So, but we never did anything bad in the traditional sense. And I-I think— Oloye Adeyemon: And this would be you and your sister? Edna Allen Dean: Yeah. Usually we did it together. Oloye Adeyemon: How much difference in age was there between you two? Edna Allen Dean: Not quite a year. Minus four days minus a year. Oloye Adeyemon: Okay. So you knew that Prince, uh, Edward Academy was the White school and you were kinda doing this in a defiant kind of mode. Edna Allen Dean: Just being-just being, I think we were just being children. Young adults or whatever. Oloye Adeyemon: Okay. Earlier you said that, uh, maybe it did have something to do with segregation, your father’s protectiveness. How did you mean that? Edna Allen Dean: Oh, I think Black families traditionally, through the years, have always tried to protect their children. Our mothers are particularly protective of b-male boys. Of-of boys. Oloye Adeyemon: And you said this is particularly because of the segregated situation— Edna Allen Dean: Yeah, because of the-because— Oloye Adeyemon: - and the change— Edna Allen Dean: - traditionally Black kids have gotten picked on. They are the ones who end up going to jail and getting the longer sentences. Um, Black girls have always had to deal with sexual overtures and innuendos, uh, from other folk. And I think he was very determined that these kinds of things were not gonna happen to his children. And he was extraordinarily protective. And, I guess, almost overly so. Um, ’cause there were a lotta things we were slow in learning ’cause we never had a chance to experience them here. But, uh, he did what he-they did what they thought was best. And-and I’m very appreciative of that. Oloye Adeyemon: So, your elementary years you remember, uh, and you said that you remember a lot of the teachers. Um, was that because of-of the way in which they stood out or the impact they had on you? Edna Allen Dean: We had fun in school, and we were well educated. Um, my mo-my momma being a teacher then, I remember one thing that we had trouble with, and, you know, we’d say all the other kids would be out playing in the pond and maybe smoking behind the barn. But we would reading, I mean, she would set up summer school for us on the front porch every summer. And things to keep us busy and keep us on target. Uh, pro-probably to keep us outta trouble too. And, so we were-we had good teachers, um, I have always enjoyed school and learning. And we—you know, in those days, the whole community was behind you so that if you were on the right track everybody kinda got in your business. And wanted to make sure that you were, you know, gonna do things. It’s like, I remember being interviewed by some people by MTV one day in reference to this whole Prince Edward thing, and one of the questions that they asked me was, when did I know I was gonna go to college? And I told ’em I never knew I was not going. I didn’t-wasn’t sure how I was gonna go, but I knew I was gonna go because that was a—I mean, that was touted from the, you know, from the time we were little girls. We were taken back to Virginia State every homecoming. And introduced to their friends. And-and the house mothers and introduced to some of their teachers. So you knew you were gonna go to college because that was part of their background. Oloye Adeyemon: H-ho-what kind of education did their parents have? Edna Allen Dean: Uh, Daddy’s mother died when, not long after he was born, she died early. His f-his father was a carpenter and so, he was not educated. But I think, his grandmother had gone to one of the early boarding schools. Virginia Seminary. Um, uh, and Mother’s mother had-wa-was not formally educated. And neither was her father. He was a businessperson and he owned a store. Oloye Adeyemon: Here? Edna Allen Dean: No, in Charles City. Oloye Adeyemon: That’s right. You— Edna Allen Dean: In Charles City. And, um, he was an entrepreneur. And, one of the interesting things about Charles City County is, college was a strong focus and many of the slave owners who produced children sent them to Virginia State. Oloye Adeyemon: Had children with Black women. Edna Allen Dean: Yes. So that is a county where education was strongly focused on, uh, from lots of perspectives. So, going to college was really not, I don’t even think it’s a choice we had. Oloye Adeyemon: Would you say that even for Black children whose parents were not college trained that there was a strong emphasis on— Edna Allen Dean: Oh, yes. Oloye Adeyemon: - going further in your education than you parents [unintelligible 32:54] Edna Allen Dean: The one thing I remember hearing all of my life is they can take everything from you, but they can’t take what’s in your head. So the more education you could get, the more likely you were that you’re gonna be-have the opportunity to become independent. Oloye Adeyemon: So then, education was viewed as a way of becoming more independent? Edna Allen Dean: Mm-hmm. Self-sufficient and independent. Oloye Adeyemon: Going back to the teachers. Um, they worked under difficult circumstances in the segregated— Edna Allen Dean: Oh, yeah. Oloye Adeyemon: - school system, didn’t they? Edna Allen Dean: Oh, yeah. Oloye Adeyemon: Can you talk about, as a person that’s involved in education— Edna Allen Dean: They oftentimes— Oloye Adeyemon: - looking back, can— Edna Allen Dean: - they didn’t oftentimes have equipment, uh, they didn’t have, uh, a lotta times they didn’t have choices even over textbooks because they were handed down from the White school to the Black school. They didn’t have—there weren’t a lotta school supplies. They were kinda rationed out. Uh, the teachers lived with families. I mean, they didn’t even have their own space, so to speak, they-because there were-there were no apartment houses or-or they-they lived with families and became a part of the community. So that if they didn’t get to talk to your parents at school, they saw ’em in the grocery store or they saw ’em at church and whatever you did, and they didn’t have a chance to tell, they-they would-they would tell. But they basically, the Black teachers were organized, they had, like, a state association that they participated in. Uh, ’cause I remember every fall they would have a meeting and some-a lot of times Momma would carry us along, and we’d wait outside while she was in meetings. Oloye Adeyemon: Now, when you say they lived with people, this is when they first came out of school and were starting their teaching? Edna Allen Dean: A lotta times they lived with ’em the whole time they taught here. Until they, uh, sometimes if the women got married, and they married someone locally, then they might build a house. Oloye Adeyemon: Now, was it the case that here in Virginia there was some restriction on teachers marrying, or something— Edna Allen Dean: Oh, that was in the early days. When, it used to be a law that if you were a mar-woman and you got married you could no longer teach. But I’m not sure when that law went out, but I know when Ms. Forester 35:11, that was one of the reasons back in the—that was probably prior to the nine-the 20th Century. So I think-I think by the time we came along that was not true. Oloye Adeyemon: Right. So why was it that teachers were living with people as opposed to— Edna Allen Dean: There was nowhere else for them to live. They lived with families. They-they would-they would rent a room. And become a part of their family. Oloye Adeyemon: And was that because of their salary? Edna Allen Dean: Probably had a lot to do with salary, but there was really no housing here for them. There still is very little housing here. Oloye Adeyemon: But weren’t there people who went away and came back who were in the community that taught? Were all the teachers coming into the community from elsewhere? Edna Allen Dean: A lot of the-a lot of the teachers came from Virginia State, Virginia [unintelligible 35:47] Oloye Adeyemon: Would any of them have been people who were from the county and were just returning home? Edna Allen Dean: Uh, not in the early part of my education. Probably by the time I got to high school there were a few people coming back. Oloye Adeyemon: But even though they were not originally from the community, once they came to teach they became part of the community. Edna Allen Dean: Yeah. They became part of the community. Because they-they stayed-they stayed for a number of years. Oloye Adeyemon: And so—and that made a difference, didn’t it? Edna Allen Dean: Oh, yes. Oloye Adeyemon: That the teachers were part of the community. Edna Allen Dean: Oh, yes. Oh, yes. They weren’t commuters. Oloye Adeyemon: They-they knew the parents, the parents knew them. They attended church together. Would you say that that had an impact on the relations with the student and teacher? Edna Allen Dean: Oh, yes. Oloye Adeyemon: In what way? Edna Allen Dean: ’Cause you knew you couldn’t get away with something ’cause they-they, I mean, they were here. It was like—there was a lot of respect. And one of the things that we used to do every morning, and I think about this a lot, we always had an assembly every morning in elementary school. And, at that assembly, uh, you usually sang a patriotic song or, uh, or a-or-or s-or a-a spiritual or a, you know, a-a hymn. And there was oftentimes scripture reading and a prayer. And then they’d make the announcements and you’d go to class. And I-I, you know, I say sometimes that’s, you know, it was very hard to stand up there and bow your head to say a prayer and then walk in the classroom and cuss your teacher out. Oloye Adeyemon: Was there a point, and this I guess would have been before your years as a student, was there a point in the county when many of the Black schools were one and two-room schools that were associated with churches? Black churches? Edna Allen Dean: A lotta the one-room schools were sometimes owned by families. They were built by family-individual families. And/or churches. Now, when my Daddy finished el-elementary school here, he had to go to Cumberland to go to high school because there was no high school in Prince Edward County. Oloye Adeyemon: So Cumberland served as a high school for both counties? Or he just had the opportunity? Edna Allen Dean: If you could get there. And he had, his father got him a car. And I’ve heard different people in town tell me stories about how Daddy would pick them up and take them to Cumberland. And y-you know if he had not had a car and had not picked them up they probably would not have been able to finish high school. Oloye Adeyemon: Do you know what school that was in Cumberland? Do you know what the name was? Edna Allen Dean: It-it was the Cumberland, it was the public school. Oloye Adeyemon: Do you know the name of it? Edna Allen Dean: It was Cu-I think it was Cumberland High School. I don’t know the name of it. But I think it— Oloye Adeyemon: Where was that? Edna Allen Dean: It was down where the—in-in the same complex area where schools are now in Cumberland. Oloye Adeyemon: In-in the-it’s the town of Cumberland. Edna Allen Dean: Well, you can call it a town, um, yeah. I guess, you know, maybe a hundred, two hundred people. It was like a little sign on the side of the road. It was a community. It was an established community. Oloye Adeyemon: So, is that the county seat? Edna Allen Dean: The county seat is Cumberland Courthouse. Oloye Adeyemon: And that’s-that’s not with the school. Edna Allen Dean: This area was a little bit before you got to the courthouse. It’s like at the end of 45. Forty-five is-is Main Street. Oloye Adeyemon: But you don’t remember the name of the community itself. Edna Allen Dean: I know it was Cumberland. That’s all I know. Oloye Adeyemon: County. Edna Allen Dean: Yeah. Cumberland, it was C-Cumberland County. Oloye Adeyemon: I see. So— Edna Allen Dean: It probably had-had a name of a—I’m trying to think, what was the name of it? It used to be Luther P. Jackson High School, but I don’t even—I’m not sure what it—I don’t think it was Luther P. Jackson when Daddy went there. Oloye Adeyemon: So the teachers were definitely able to make up that difference in what might have been missing in financial resources or other things that White students might have had. But teachers and the way in which they taught and the concern they had helped to— Edna Allen Dean: They were very ingenious. They were very creative. I mean, we had operettas every year. We did plays for Easter and Christmas. And they used to use the public, the school buses, to bring parents in on Sunday afternoon to activities. Uh, we had choirs, um, the Black schools, the segrega—the Black schools in the state of Virginia had a lot of their own little competition. Like we had science competition, we had dramatic competition. Choral competition. They had, like, all-state choirs. And you had to qualify to go to Virginia State for overnight, which is a big deal that you get to stay on a college campus. You had certain music that you would work on. And then you would perform it at, you know, at Virginia Hall. And a lotta times they would invite famous Black folk from New York and Washington who might be in the theater or, you know, n-noted people in the area of music to come in and hear the performance. And sometimes grade it and give awards. Uh, and they would do the same thing with drama. And with mathematics. And we always held, uh, held our own. I mean, we weren’t, ’cause we were a little country a-a-area— Oloye Adeyemon: You were holding your own against some of the large schools and some of the urban areas. Edna Allen Dean: Oh, we were up against schools from Roanoke, Norfolk, Newport News. Oloye Adeyemon: Some of those schools were in college communities too. Edna Allen Dean: Yes. But-but— Oloye Adeyemon: And benefited from that, and you still held your own. Edna Allen Dean: But we-we-we-we were no slouch. Oloye Adeyemon: And was that because of the quality of the teachers? Edna Allen Dean: Because of the quality of the teachers. Our teachers loved us. They genuinely loved us. I don’t remember special ed, uh, I don’t remember students who were hyperactive. Oloye Adeyemon: There weren’t a lotta discipline problems either were there? Edna Allen Dean: Oh, heavens, no. They paddled in those days. Uh, and—but the other thing is, we did a lot of peer work in the classroom so that the brightest students were assigned the slower student to work with. And, you know, when I look at statistics today about the number of-of special ed kids it’s like, where did all these kids come from? Oloye Adeyemon: I think that was important too in those one and two-room schools where you had one or two teachers teaching several grades. You really, I’m sure that they depended a lot on the students. Edna Allen Dean: I started out in a one-in a two-room school. Oloye Adeyemon: Where? Edna Allen Dean: In Cumberland, because, when I was five, so we didn’t have-we-we-we didn’t have kindergarten, so when I was five my sister was already in school. And so, rather than continue with a babysitter, Momma used to take me with her to Cumberland and drop me off at a friend’s school. Miss-Miss, uh, she was a Mrs. Wilson, and she’s a Ms. Fischer now. But she would drop me off there and I would spend the time there. Then, when she come back up the road, coming to Farmville at the end of the day, she’d pick me up and bring me home. Oloye Adeyemon: Was Awilda with you? or she was here? Edna Allen Dean: No. Awil was already in, she was in first grade here. Oloye Adeyemon: She was here. Edna Allen Dean: So I was at the school by myself, but they had, like, maybe first through third-f-first through fourth grade or first through third and then fourth through seven. And it might not be but three or four kids in each class. It might have been a few more. But, um, it— Oloye Adeyemon: Did the teach— Edna Allen Dean: - it was fun. Oloye Adeyemon: Did the teachers depend sometimes on the brighter students helping others so that they could manage all those— Edna Allen Dean: Well that was part of the teaching-that was part of the teaching strategy that we worked in-in-in peer oriented groups. And we helped each other. Oloye Adeyemon: And so, you had-had a class of all these different grades. That was— Edna Allen Dean: Well that was more so here in Farmville because we had larger classes. In the-in-in-in-in-in that first school experience, uh, you, you know, there was a time that they had for reading of first grade. Time they had for reading of third grade. And you had activities that you would be doing or, a lotta times, I was sitting there listening to all levels. Oloye Adeyemon: Uh, we talked a-we’ve talked about it and I’ve interviewed some people that were directly involved with the walkout. But, although you were not there yet at the high school when that occurred, when you got there the conditions were the same. Edna Allen Dean: Oh, lord, yes. Oloye Adeyemon: And the conditions that had been at the root of that problem were what-what conditions? Edna Allen Dean: Well they had these tar paper shacks, and these-these really rugged kinda classrooms. Had a little pot-bellied stove in the center of it. And I can remember not ever wanting to sit near the stove ’cause it was always too hot in the winter. And, in the summertime and the spring, I wanted to sit near a window because you only had windows in the front of the room. You didn’t have anything on the sides or in the back, so there was really no clo-cross ventilation. Oloye Adeyemon: And I understand whoever sat next to the pot-belled stove had— Edna Allen Dean: Ever who sat next to the stove had to catch the coals and make sure that they either went back in the stove or went on the little metal piece that the stove sat on. Oloye Adeyemon: To keep the building from burning down. Edna Allen Dean: And keep the build-building from burning up. I can remember sitting there with an umbrella up so that the ink on my paper would not run when I was writing. Oloye Adeyemon: Because of? Edna Allen Dean: Because it was a building the-the roof was leaking. Oloye Adeyemon: Over you. Edna Allen Dean: Uh-huh. Over lots of people. Just not me. Oloye Adeyemon: And I understand that despite that, one of the math teachers that taught there was—he was-he was a good teacher. Edna Allen Dean: Oh fabulous. Mr. Potter. Oloye Adeyemon: But when he, um, when the schools became integrated he became recognized as— Edna Allen Dean: As one of the top teachers in the state. Oloye Adeyemon: - the top math teachers in the state. And, all this time, those were the kinds of teachers that were working with-with the students. Looking back at it, uh, while the segregation, uh, was an institution that-that debilitated everybody. What is your memory of the Black schools themselves? How do you feel about having gone to the-to schools at that time under those conditions? Edna Allen Dean: I truly believe my success is directly related to my beginning. Oloye Adeyemon: Why? How did the schools— Edna Allen Dean: Because— Oloye Adeyemon: - help you to succeed? Edna Allen Dean: - I had people who loved me, who believed in me. Pushed me. And who cared about me. Kids don’t have that today. Oloye Adeyemon: And we’re all suffering because of it. Edna Allen Dean: Yeah. I think, I-I mean, today, unfortunately, I think teaching is-is-is a way of getting a check. Uh, nobody really is being held accountable, uh, a lotta Black teachers are busy trying to prove they can teach the White kids. And Black kids are getting kinda left in a-in a lurch. There are a lotta White kids suffering too. Oloye Adeyemon: So we need to somehow bring that-that-that— Edna Allen Dean: We need to go back and recover— Oloye Adeyemon: - that sense of-that-that-that importance-the importance of parents, teachers, and children about education. Edna Allen Dean: Janetta Cole 46:12 said it most poignantly at a conference I attended a few years ago. She said, “We need to look at segregated schools and pull out those things that were best and carry those over to the integrated schools, and not throw the baby out with the bathwater.” Oloye Adeyemon: Thank you very much. Okay. On the second half I wanna talk about— [Pause 46:34 - 47:07] [End of VA01] [Start of VA1b] [Pause 00:00 - 00:07] Oloye Adeyemon: Brown versus Board oral history collection. Prince Edward County Virginia school segregation/desegregation interviews, part two of my interview with Mrs. Edna Dean. Mrs. Dean, Dr. Dean, sorry. Dr. Dean, uh, w-we talked a bit in the first part of the interview about your experiences in Prince Edward County growing up under segregation and going to segregated schools. Uh, I wanted to talk a little bit about, um, the impact that you’ve observed and experienced as a result of your—the walkout that occurred at the high school [unintelligible 00:59]. Uh, at the time of that walkout, in, uh—wh-do you remember the date of the walkout? Edna Allen Dean: Uh, I think it was April 23, 1953, no, 1951. Oloye Adeyemon: ’51. Edna Allen Dean: Right. The 23rd or 21st. Oloye Adeyemon: And you-you were at what school at that time? Edna Allen Dean: I was across the street at Mary E. Branch, seventh grade, gettin’ ready to graduate and go to high school. And, somehow, I managed to look out the window and I saw all these kids going down the street. Oloye Adeyemon: Were you going to the window because of the commotion, or were you— Edna Allen Dean: Oh, there was no noise. Oloye Adeyemon: So you just happened to be at the win— Edna Allen Dean: I probably was up runnin’ aro-movin’ around the room doing something I wa-I didn’t need to be doing. And I happened to look out the window. I was kind of a busy body. And I saw all these people going down the street and I announced to the class that all these students were walking down the street. So everybody got up to look out the window. Oloye Adeyemon: What did the teachers say? Edna Allen Dean: Uh, but—I think even Mr. Hall, or somebody, came in and told us all to sit down. Oloye Adeyemon: Mr. Hall was the principal. Edna Allen Dean: He was the principal. And told us to sit down and stop lookin’ out the window. Which we did. Oloye Adeyemon: So did you see your sister? Edna Allen Dean: I think I saw her. I really don’t remember. I really don’t remember ’cause I was just so excited that they were— Oloye Adeyemon: ’Cause it was in the time— Edna Allen Dean: - well, they were out of school and I was, you know, we were in school. Oloye Adeyemon: And you had no idea why they were out of school. Edna Allen Dean: I didn’t know why they were out. But I think— Oloye Adeyemon: Your sis-your sister hadn't mentioned anything about it. Edna Allen Dean: Oh, heavens, no. Oloye Adeyemon: Now I understand that, in an early interview, that many of the students at the school knew nothing about it until it was announced in the school, in the auditorium. Your sister, though, was one of the students that knew. I understand she had told— Edna Allen Dean: Yeah. She knew. Oloye Adeyemon: - told your father that she was going to be involved, but didn’t tell your mother. Edna Allen Dean: Mm-mm. Oloye Adeyemon: So, when this is occurring, you don’t know anything about it. Edna Allen Dean: Mm-mm. Oloye Adeyemon: Your father didn’t share this with you. Edna Allen Dean: Oh, they wouldn’t have told me under any circumstances. I was— Oloye Adeyemon: Would they have been afraid you would have repeated it? Edna Allen Dean: Oh, I would have. I was like a megaphone. They knew what they were doing by not telling me. Oloye Adeyemon: So, what—you didn’t know it was happening, but it was just exciting and— Edna Allen Dean: It was exciting, but, when I got home, I found out that they had gone on strike. Oloye Adeyemon: They were well ordered when they— Edna Allen Dean: Oh, they were all on the sidewalk walking down the street, you know— Oloye Adeyemon: Quietly. Edna Allen Dean: - like they do it every day. There was no noise. Oloye Adeyemon: And-and-and, given the spontaneity of it, ’cause most of the students didn’t know what was happening. Edna Allen Dean: Mm-mm. Oloye Adeyemon: It’s quite something that there would have been that kind of order and discipline. I mean, any students doing anything. Walking in the halls between classes. You just—they’re not usually— Edna Allen Dean: That’s true, but, you see, the other part of the pie-piece is that different groups had been trying to get a new school for a long time. And they had been to the school board, and they had talked to the county board of supervisors. And-and all they got was excuses and the runaround. Oloye Adeyemon: What groups were these? Edna Allen Dean: Um, the-the parent groups. Oloye Adeyemon: Such as? Edna Allen Dean: Uh, [unintelligible 03:50] different groups. Oloye Adeyemon: So they had been going. Edna Allen Dean: People had been going, different groups, NAACP, people had been going to the county— Oloye Adeyemon: And nothing came of it. Edna Allen Dean: - and nothing was happening. What’d they do is they’d put up another building. Another tar paper shack. Oloye Adeyemon: Were these, uh, groups that went supported by the community at large? Edna Allen Dean: Yeah. They basically were. Oloye Adeyemon: So, there-there had been efforts in the community— Edna Allen Dean: Right. Oloye Adeyemon: - prior to this. Edna Allen Dean: Right. Oloye Adeyemon: So the thing that really made this a turning point was that it was students. Edna Allen Dean: Yeah. Uh, you know, and-and, you have to understand, most of what I share with you is reflective that it-it—reflections that have evolved with age and years of experience. Uh, I-I think the time was right. So that, I mean, we were all tired of sitting in hot buildings and-and-and-and the-the conditions under which we were trying to be educated. I mean, the—we clearly knew there was no equity involved in-in the whole process. So that when Barbara and her committee got together— Oloye Adeyemon: Barbara Johns. Edna Allen Dean: Barbara Johns and John Stokes and Kerry and Carl Allen and Irene Taylor, when all those kids got together and said, “This is it. We gotta do something.” And, meanwhile, Barbara had already been processing this in her head. Had got these other six people together and then, the plan began to fall in place. You also have to remember that we had a contingency of young men in high school who were vets. They had already been to war, and they were back getting educated. They had— Oloye Adeyemon: So at what age-what age would they have been? Edna Allen Dean: Probably 22, 23. Oloye Adeyemon: So, some of the-some of the high school students— Edna Allen Dean: Were old. They were— Oloye Adeyemon: - were already back from— Edna Allen Dean: - they were-they were adults. They had no fear. Oloye Adeyemon: And—mm-hmm. I understand. Edna Allen Dean: I mean, if you’d been off and faced guns, walking down the street and askin’ for a new buildin’ is nothing. So, plus the fact that Barbara, Barbara Johns was a no-nonsense person. Oloye Adeyemon: Even at that age? Edna Allen Dean: Yes. I mean, Barbara was not, she was not the kind of person that just sat around and chit-chatted. She was about business. She was pr-she was taking care of her brothers and sisters ’cause her mother was in Washington, and her daddy, we know, was working in the store and farming. Oloye Adeyemon: Her mother was what? Edna Allen Dean: Her mother was in Washington, and she was kinda like the senior child. She was the senior child. And she was busy gettin’ ’em up, gettin’ their lunch. Gettin’ ’em off to school. Oloye Adeyemon: I understood they-that they did a lot of reading of literature that would have expanded their young minds. Edna Allen Dean: Yeah. They, uh, her father’s brother was Reverend Vernon Johns. Oloye Adeyemon: He-he had a influential, a impact on, uh, Martin Luther King didn’t he? Edna Allen Dean: Yes. He was his-Martin Luther King’s mentor. But, prior to that, he was Farmville’s, uh, no, I’m not gonna say that. Anyway. He was— Oloye Adeyemon: He was from Farmville originally? Edna Allen Dean: He was from Prince Edward County. I think. Yeah. I think he was— Oloye Adeyemon: But he was the brother of— Edna Allen Dean: He was the brother of-of-of Barbara’s father. Oloye Adeyemon: Okay. So she knew him. Edna Allen Dean: Robert. Oh, yeah. They lived with-they-they lived, like, Barbara-Barbara’s family lived here and Reverend Johns’ family lived here. So they-they all were on family land. Oloye Adeyemon: But he didn’t remain here. He went to— Edna Allen Dean: Who? Reverend Johns? Oloye Adeyemon: Yes. Edna Allen Dean: Oh, well, he ended up getting a job in Montgomery. Oloye Adeyemon: Alabama. Edna Allen Dean: But, prior to that, he had— Oloye Adeyemon: Because he was involved with the, uh, Montgomery, uh, bus boycott, right? Edna Allen Dean: No. No, he wasn’t. Oloye Adeyemon: Not at all? Edna Allen Dean: Mm-mm. Mm-mm. He w-w-he-he didn’t keep his job that long. Oloye Adeyemon: Okay. Understood. Edna Allen Dean: But he-he was always kind of, uh, ecc-eccentric. A little egotistical. He-he was brilliant. I mean— Oloye Adeyemon: Where did he meet Martin Luther King? Edna Allen Dean: Probably in Alabama when he was down there. Uh, because, uh, Reverent Johns was a pastor of the church, and I’m blocking on the name, but Martin Luther King, the Martin L-L-Luther King fel-followed him when he got put out of the church down in-in Alabama. Oloye Adeyemon: I see. Edna Allen Dean: Uh, but, see, his— Oloye Adeyemon: Why’d he get put out? Edna Allen Dean: They didn’t like his politics and his kind of religion. He was, Reverend Johns was really years ahead of himself, he was a-he was a true social theologian. He-he connected all—he was ack—from my perspective, he was a holistic, uh, theologian. Because he saw everything that was happening as directly related to situations that people were in, uh, some of it having a spiritual base and a-and a theological base, others not. He was well read, he was extraordinarily bright. He looked almost White. He, uh, he kinda, you know, I think he almost had blue-grey eyes or something. He, um, was—he-he commanded your attention when he walked into a room because of-of his appearance. A lotta times he might not even have on socks. But, aside from that, clothes were not something that he was totally preoccupied with. I mean, he’d just assume to show up with all of his underwear in a paper bag and when people said, “Where’s your luggage?” Here it is, you know, with a rope around his pants. He was just very, very eccentric. Uh, but brilliant. Oloye Adeyemon: What impact did he have on Barbara Johns? Was any of the literature that she was reading of an activist kind of nature? Edna Allen Dean: They had to read War and Peace and books like that when the rest of us were trying to get through [crosstalk 09:17] — Oloye Adeyemon: Now, was that because of their father wanting ’em to read it, or did-did-did her uncle have any impact on ’em? Edna Allen Dean: He had-they had to read a book every week. Oloye Adeyemon: Because of their uncle or because of— Edna Allen Dean: Yes. Because of Reverend Johns. Oloye Adeyemon: So he did have an impact on ’em. Edna Allen Dean: And do-and then do-then do a book report. Part of it I think was to broaden their knowledge base. Other thing was to keep ’em busy. Oloye Adeyemon: Was this when he was still here or— Edna Allen Dean: That was when he was in and out. Oloye Adeyemon: So he would bring things or send things to them? Edna Allen Dean: He always had books. Oloye Adeyemon: So he was very involved in-in that way with— Edna Allen Dean: Yeah. ’Cause, see, he went to Oberlin. He bulldozed his way into Oberlin. But he-he—I mean, he was a-he’s very learned. He had a fabulous library. Um, people used to—I-I have heard stories from Barbara and Joan and Jean and his children about how people would come to the store just to hear him talk. I mean, they-there was nobody else in the neighborhood like him. Because he could talk on anything. And he was so well read, and he insisted that they be well read. So, Joan and them, you know, like when we would go up there to play and he was around, we were always very intimidated by him. Because my first thought was that we came up to play he’s probably gonna make us read something. Oloye Adeyemon: Teach us something. Edna Allen Dean: You know, or make this a classroom, and I really don’t feel like going through that today. But he was-he was extraordinarily bright. He was married to a marvelous lady who was one of my early piano teachers. Oloye Adeyemon: Was she also from Prince Edward? Edna Allen Dean: Uh, I think she was from, originally from North Carolina. Oloye Adeyemon: So when he left the church in Montgomery, did he come back here? Edna Allen Dean: He went-he always was back and forth. Oloye Adeyemon: Back and forth. Edna Allen Dean: He was always back and forth. Uh, by the time—I think when he-they left Alabama, Mrs. Johns probably had a job at Virginia State teaching music, so the family moved there. And he never-he-he-he was always moving. Oloye Adeyemon: I see. Edna Allen Dean: I mean, it wasn’t like you could go by and say, well, let me go by and see if Reverend Johns is at home. Or Reverend Johns is at home today. You know, he might be there, he might not. Oloye Adeyemon: Did he ever pastor a church in this area? Edna Allen Dean: He was president of Virginia Seminary for a while. And he had a church— Oloye Adeyemon: Where is that located. Edna Allen Dean: In Lynchburg. And I think he was pastor at Court Street. He was in one of the big churches up there for a while. But he never really stayed because he was very controversial. Oloye Adeyemon: I understand. So, I just wanted to get a little clarity on that, because it’s-it’s gonna probably take people a long time to-to understand what made, uh, Barbara Johns such an extraordinary person. Edna Allen Dean: Barbara-Barbara has been likened to a grandmother, and it might have been Reverend Johns’ mother. I think it was Mrs. Sally Johns. Oloye Adeyemon: Which woulda been— Edna Allen Dean: Was— Oloye Adeyemon: - both her-both her father and uncle’s mother. Edna Allen Dean: Right. It would have been her grandmother. I understand that she was an extraordinarily strong woman. Uh— Oloye Adeyemon: Did she also have impact on Barbara Johns? Edna Allen Dean: I think she had more of an impact on Barbara than-than Reverend Johns did. Oloye Adeyemon: Because she was in the community all the time. Edna Allen Dean: She was there. Uh, she was a no-nonsense woman. She did not take anything off of anybody, male, female, animal, insect. Oloye Adeyemon: So the past tort-torch mighta been passed from her to her— Edna Allen Dean: I, from what I have— Oloye Adeyemon: - for her-to the Reverend Johns to Barbara Johns. Edna Allen Dean: - from what I’ve heard about Ms. Sally, and from what I’ve read about Ms. Sally, Barbara was more like her. Oloye Adeyemon: Than anybody. Edna Allen Dean: Than she was Reverend Johns. Oloye Adeyemon: I see. Edna Allen Dean: So she was a—Barbara was a very likeable person. She was a very warm person. Oloye Adeyemon: But no-nonsense. Edna Allen Dean: No. She was no-nonsense. I mean, but, you know, she had a sense a humor, and-and-and she enjoyed life. But she, um, sometimes I’m not sure Reverend Johns enjoyed life ’cause he was always serious. Oloye Adeyemon: I understand. Edna Allen Dean: He had a-he had a good sense of humor also. But I think if you talk about her influence, I-I-from what I’ve read, Mrs. Sally had more of an influence on Barbara than—plus she was more accessible to her. Oloye Adeyemon: And-and the tragedy, I guess, in all this, is that Barbara Johns died of cancer before a lot of this effort to remember the people who were involved in this story occurred. And— Edna Allen Dean: But Barbara had never told her own family about her involvement in the Prince Edward situation. They learned about it— Oloye Adeyemon: Her-her husband and children. Edna Allen Dean: Her-her husband and her children. Oloye Adeyemon: So she—was that because of modesty you think? Edna Allen Dean: No. Oloye Adeyemon: What was it? Edna Allen Dean: I don’t think it was ’cause of modesty. I think that at that-at that time in our history people did what they felt they had to do because that was what needed to be done. It wasn’t planned in terms of, well, years later such and such can happen. And, further down the road, we can do such and such. Barbara was, from what I remember about Barbara, she wouldn’t-she wouldn’t have been one to sit around and say, “Guess what I did when I was 16 years old?” Oloye Adeyemon: I understand. Edna Allen Dean: The other thing is I think when she was, and this-this is the, uh, uh, I guess the academia, uh, academic part of me talking. Barbara was 16 years old. She had carried-she carried tremendous responsibility for her family. She has divine intervention that she— Oloye Adeyemon: That’s how she referred to it. Edna Allen Dean: - that she refers to it, that she implemented. And, as a result of that— Oloye Adeyemon: She didn’t take any credit personally. Edna Allen Dean: - a cross was built-burnt on her lawn. A cross was burnt down here. Oloye Adeyemon: Where? Down here where? Edna Allen Dean: Down here at the high school. Oloye Adeyemon: At Moton? Edna Allen Dean: At Moton. Um— Oloye Adeyemon: A-a cross was burned by the Klan. Edna Allen Dean: Yeah. And— Oloye Adeyemon: Mm-hmm. And at her home. Edna Allen Dean: And at her home. There were probably threats on her life. Which made her family pick her up in the middle of the night and shoot her to Alabama. Where she has to leave her family. Um— Oloye Adeyemon: She was raised by who there? Edna Allen Dean: She was raised by her grandmother. Uh, her mother’s mother. And her parents were in and out. And they were the-and-and they were together. Oloye Adeyemon: So her father’s mother was the one that— Edna Allen Dean: Was Sally. Oloye Adeyemon: - she was very much like. Her mother’s mother was— Edna Allen Dean: Again was a very, very strong woman. Oloye Adeyemon: But she was in Alabama. Edna Allen Dean: No. Her mother’s mother was-was in Darlington Heights. Both of her grandmothers were there. Oloye Adeyemon: Who did she live with in Alabama? Edna Allen Dean: She lived with Reverend-Reverend Johns’ family in Alabama. Oloye Adeyemon: This was during the time when he was still there. Edna Allen Dean: Yeah. But— Oloye Adeyemon: Prior to the ’54—okay. Bus— Edna Allen Dean: Right. Oloye Adeyemon: - bus—okay. Edna Allen Dean: Right. Oloye Adeyemon: I gotchu. Edna Allen Dean: Okay. So she-she left here— Oloye Adeyemon: So she’s there during that— Edna Allen Dean: She left here within two weeks after all of this stuff happened. Uh, I remember talking to her husband once and he was saying that she felt bad that the schools closed. That kids were locked out for five years. I don’t know if she blamed herself for it or not. But I’m sure she was a sensitive, warm woman, and giving person. She had-she had a family. So she, I’m sure, could empathize with what must have-families must have felt. Oloye Adeyemon: Where was she living at that point? Edna Allen Dean: When-when schools closed? She was probably married and in Philadelphia, probably. She went to Spellman. Oloye Adeyemon: You know what her major was? Edna Allen Dean: She-she majored in library science because she served as a librarian in the Philadelphia Public Schools. Oloye Adeyemon: I wanna go back and make sure that I’m correct. Not only, um, and I understand that she didn’t expect, you know, special recognition, but she was not around even to participate in the commemoration. But I understand that she did not appear on the petition when the case finally was there—went to court. Edna Allen Dean: See, I have a feeling she mighta been gone. Oloye Adeyemon: Mm-hmm. So, even those who have studied the story starting with the court case, and looking at the list of petitioner’s, might not have understood that the list of petitioner’s in the case really doesn’t tell the whole story about how that case came about. Edna Allen Dean: My-my father did not sign. And, our speculation is that the reason he didn’t sign was because of my mother’s position, and he didn’t—and, see, what ultimately happened, she ended up being blackballed for 10 years in the state. She couldn’t find a job anywhere. Oloye Adeyemon: That was the next thing. When this case—well, even as early as the point when they had the walkout and they begin to have the strikes, um, I think they were-they were having meetings during that period, right? ’Cause the students remained out of school. And Barbara played even a-a leading role in those meetings of adults in the community about— Edna Allen Dean: Probably in the first three, three, four days. Oloye Adeyemon: How long were they out of school? Edna Allen Dean: I don’t think they were out much more than a week, if they were out that long. Oloye Adeyemon: And where-where are these meetings-where were these meetings held? Edna Allen Dean: First Baptist Church. Oloye Adeyemon: Where is that located? Edna Allen Dean: Right down on Main Street in Farmville. Reverend Griffin was the pastor. And he was-he ultimately became the-the guru of-of all that was going on. Oloye Adeyemon: Right. And, later, after this Davis versus Prince Edward County case went to trial in federal district court in Richmond, and then became consolidated and part of the Brown versus Board of Education, uh, didn’t he actually lead another-another walk-[unintelligible 18:35]? Edna Allen Dean: Yeah. There-there were-there-there were some other things that happened, but, by that time, I was in-I was gone, see, ’cause I finished in ’56. Oloye Adeyemon: Mm-hmm. ’Cause I think I heard about a Griffin case. Edna Allen Dean: There was a Griffin case, and, um, there are probably some other people who can give you more information on that. Oloye Adeyemon: Can tell me more information. Edna Allen Dean: But, yes, his family also suffered. I mean, he-he— Oloye Adeyemon: In what way? Edna Allen Dean: - had no credit. Um, there were times when they were living from hand to mouth. And, if it had not been for some very special friends of his in this community who kept him afloat financially, uh, he would not have probably survived. And his-his children, um, I think probably have some very painful memories of— Oloye Adeyemon: I can imagine. Edna Allen Dean: - growing up in this community. Because they don’t come back. Only-only the youngest boy comes back. Oloye Adeyemon: Mm-hmm. So, moving a little bit further along, uh, there were the meetings and then, Barbara Johns had to be, uh, taken to Alabama and remain there for the rest of her high school years. Your mother—well, first of all, when the students went downtown they asked for an audience with the community—was-was that the—who was it that they spoke to? Who was it they— Edna Allen Dean: I’m not sure who they spoke to, but I know where they spoke to them. They spoke to ’em in the courtroom. And they were-they—at the—what they-what the White people tried to do that day was to intimidate them. Oloye Adeyemon: Instead of addressing their concerns. Edna Allen Dean: Mm-hmm. And they basically asked who they were, uh, got the names of everybody so they could identify their parents, so they could immediately retaliate. Oloye Adeyemon: Now was there immediate retaliation on your— Edna Allen Dean: Oh, yeah. Oloye Adeyemon: - on your mother and father? Edna Allen Dean: Her contract was not renewed for the next year. Oloye Adeyemon: When-when did she find that out? It wasn’t right away. Edna Allen Dean: No. It was around June. Oloye Adeyemon: Okay. And that’s why you said that your father chose not to sign out of respect for your mother. Edna Allen Dean: Well, we— Oloye Adeyemon: But, as it turned out— Edna Allen Dean: That they probably figured some recriminations were gonna come down the pipe anyway. Oloye Adeyemon: Right. But he— Edna Allen Dean: But he didn’t wanna participate in the process. Oloye Adeyemon: Right. But, even though he did not sign, they still— Edna Allen Dean: They knew who she was. Oloye Adeyemon: Right. Edna Allen Dean: Because they asked her her name. Oloye Adeyemon: Now were they doing this as a form of retribution or—against the-the students? Or were they doing that because they felt the parents had put them up to it? Edna Allen Dean: I think for years they thought that this was an adult sponsored activity. Oloye Adeyemon: They couldn’t imagine children doing something like this. Edna Allen Dean: They couldn’t imagine a child having led it. Uh, they were looking for somebody to blame, as was part of the customary behavior. Uh, and you also have to understand, a-as I’m sure-I’m sure you do, in the South the manner in which Black people were controlled were through the church and through intimidation. Um— Oloye Adeyemon: When you say that, what do you mean, through the church? Edna Allen Dean: Well, right after the Emancipation Proclamation, and they-when they started expanding the high school movement in the state of Virginia they sta-they-they developed a series of boarding schools. And a lot of these boarding schools had a, uh, ministerial or theological, uh, uh, attachment. Like the Boydton Bible Institute. And, in my studies, o-of some of these boarding schools, it-it-they-they were training ministers because they felt that that was one way they could control Black folk. They knew their, uh, their attachment to church and their involvement in religion. And they were go-their plan was to use the ministers, and sometimes quite successfully so, to keep the-the masses under control. Oloye Adeyemon: In other cases, the ministers played along with that, but actually served the best interest of their communities at the same time. Edna Allen Dean: Yeah. In-in some instances they did. Oloye Adeyemon: In some instances they-they outright rejected that. Edna Allen Dean: Right. Right. Oloye Adeyemon: Such as with Griffin. Edna Allen Dean: Right. Right. Oloye Adeyemon: Now, when-when this happened, was this because these ministers had not gone through that method of becoming trained, or was it just the thing— Edna Allen Dean: Reverend Griffin was well trained. He went to Shaw University. He also was-was a vet. Oloye Adeyemon: But, I mean, was he trained in those-in those-in that environment that you’re speaking of now? Edna Allen Dean: No. No. Because th-that environment, those were some of the early ministers. We’re talking about 18-18, late 1800s, early 1900s. Oloye Adeyemon: And the church would not have been as activist as it later was. Edna Allen Dean: Mm-mm. Mm-mm. Mm-mm. Oloye Adeyemon: So, we have the-the, your mother being fired from her-her j-her contract not being renewed. But they went further than that didn’t they? Than just not renewing her contract. ’Cause she— Edna Allen Dean: She was not able to get a job anywhere around. Oloye Adeyemon: So it wasn’t just a matter of not renewing her contract. Edna Allen Dean: She was blackballed. Oloye Adeyemon: Throughout the state of Virginia. Edna Allen Dean: Mm-hmm. Oloye Adeyemon: Everyone knew who she was. Edna Allen Dean: Well, yeah. Oloye Adeyemon: Wherever she went. Edna Allen Dean: Mm-hmm. Oloye Adeyemon: So what did she have to do as a result? Edna Allen Dean: She ended up having to get a job go-going to North Carolina. Oloye Adeyemon: What part? Edna Allen Dean: And she got a job in Goldsboro. Oloye Adeyemon: Where is that? How far? Edna Allen Dean: Oh, it’s about two and a half hours from here. Two and a half, three hours from here. Oloye Adeyemon: So that’s where she was working. How often did you see her? Edna Allen Dean: For 10 years. She came home every Friday evening and left on either Sunday evening or early, the wee hours of Monday morning, went back to work. Oloye Adeyemon: You didn’t see her throughout that whole— Edna Allen Dean: No. Oloye Adeyemon: - whole 10 years. So your father— Edna Allen Dean: Except on weekends. Oloye Adeyemon: - your father had a big responsibility, because y—both of you were still in school, because you-your sister was an eighth grader when this happened. Edna Allen Dean: Mm-hmm. Oloye Adeyemon: So, by the time she’s in the nineth grade, your mother’s gone. Edna Allen Dean: Mm-hmm. Oloye Adeyemon: And you’re just getting to high school. Edna Allen Dean: Mm-hmm. Oloye Adeyemon: And so, you-you had to go through your entire high school years— Edna Allen Dean: Without a mother. Oloye Adeyemon: - only seeing your mother on the weekend. Your father had to do— Edna Allen Dean: He did everything. Oloye Adeyemon: Did everything. Looking back at that, how do you feel about that? That period in your life. Edna Allen Dean: It was tough. Uh, I guess it’s easier for me to talk about the funny part of it. And the funny part was that every Friday morning he would get us up at some ungodly hour to start washing clothes and cleaning the house. Oloye Adeyemon: So it’d be nice when your mother came home. Edna Allen Dean: Waxing floors. Yeah. So when Momma came home she didn’t have to do anything but sit around and talk to us, and do whatever she felt like doing. But she wouldn’t have any work to do. And, uh, you know, I can remember the wintertime and we would be hanging clothes up on the line and they would be freezin’ as we would be hangin’ them. By the time we got to school we were so tired ’cause, uh, I mean, we-we-we had to-we not only had to wash floors, we had to wax them. Everything had to be sparkling when she got home. All the laundry had to be iron-ironed. Uh, and, uh, that-that was kinda the rule of thumb. You know, sometimes it go to the place that you were going like, you know, Momma coming home this weekend too? Uh, but we were always happy to see her. It-it was tough because even though I’m a daddy’s girl, and-and— Oloye Adeyemon: Both of you would had-had to c-become somewhat— Edna Allen Dean: Well-well, yeah, but-but— Oloye Adeyemon: To an extent. Edna Allen Dean: - he and I had kind of a-a-a very— Oloye Adeyemon: Anyhow. Edna Allen Dean: - strange relationship. Didn’t agree on a single thing in life. But, uh, he was-he was the one that we had to depend on. Oloye Adeyemon: And he was very protective. You said that earlier. Edna Allen Dean: Oh-oh, yes. Oh, yes. Oh, yes. Oh, yes. But, you know— Oloye Adeyemon: I guess he was more so even when she was gone. Edna Allen Dean: Yeah. And, you know, uh, on one hand he was like, uh, wh-wh-what can I do to make the lives of the girls easier. On the other, you know, well I can’t let ’em do this because if anything happens to ’em, you know, I’ve gotta answer for it. But, uh— Oloye Adeyemon: And he had to try to cover— Edna Allen Dean: I remember my sister decided one day that, I don’t know how she had heard about Nair, but— Oloye Adeyemon: About what? Edna Allen Dean: Nair, which is the hair remover. But she decided we should take all the hair off our legs. I don’t even think we had that much hair, but, anyway. And, uh, [unintelligible 26:40] always go beyond the limit. I decided to remove all the hair on my body, eyelashes, everywhere. Of course when Momma-Daddy comes in the house I’m on fire because I’ve got-I’ve got Nair in places it is not supposed to go. And, when Momma kinda comes in she just looks, you know, he’s kinda, go do something with the girls, you know, ’cause Edna’s burning. And-and she would just look at me and say, you know, some days she just as simple as they are. You know, you’ll do anything they ask you to do. But, uh, you know, so I think there were times that-that we mighta pulled the wool over his eyes. And Wilda could always come up with these interesting things for us to do. I say every scar on my body has her name on it ’cause I got it as a result of doing something that she suggested. But we, you know, we managed to-we managed to survive. Momma lived with a really, really nice family in, uh— Oloye Adeyemon: Did you ever go there? Edna Allen Dean: Oh, yeah. We went down. Oloye Adeyemon: Some weekends she didn’t come home. Edna Allen Dean: Some-sometimes we-we’d go down. In the summer. Sometimes we’d go down, uh— Oloye Adeyemon: She didn’t stay there during the summer. Edna Allen Dean: No. No. But we-we would all go down as a family. And visit, and they just kinda took Momma in. They were a couple old spin-spinster ladies. Not old, but they-they, um, they left Momma everything they had. Oloye Adeyemon: Really? Edna Allen Dean: When they—yeah. Oloye Adeyemon: Can you talk with your mother about those years? Because I know that you’re joking about it, but it had to be pretty painful. Edna Allen Dean: It was hard. It was really hard on her. No. We don’t-we don’t talk much about it. We really don’t. Uh, we still cry. Oloye Adeyemon: Right. So, by the time she comes back, you’ve gone to college. Edna Allen Dean: Yeah. I-I’m in college. Um, she came back into Caroline County, uh, after school— Oloye Adeyemon: In Virginia. Edna Allen Dean: Yeah. After schools began to integrate. Oloye Adeyemon: Why did she happen to end up there? Edna Allen Dean: I think that’s the place she could get a job. Oloye Adeyemon: You’re saying even at that point people still didn’t wanna hire her? Edna Allen Dean: She didn’t-she didn’t get back in this county until, uh, the free schools and when Bobby Kennedy and his office got involved. And they-they sent for her. They asked her if she wanted to come back. And so, when she came back, she came back as the principal of the ungraded school system that occurred when the free schools are opening. Oloye Adeyemon: Okay. Now we’re still talking about impact of this walkout and the case. Because, at a point, the schools are ordered to be integrated. And, instead of integrating, they closed them. Now that was in ’59? Now— Edna Allen Dean: I was in college. We were both in college. Oloye Adeyemon: - explain to me who closed the schools in Prince Edward County? Edna Allen Dean: The board of supervisors voted-voted to close. Oloye Adeyemon: In the county? Edna Allen Dean: See, Virginia adopted a massive resistance, uh, tactic, and there were some other schools in the state that also closed, but they were only closed for maybe a-a couple days or a week. And they— Oloye Adeyemon: Other counties. Edna Allen Dean: O-other county schools. Oloye Adeyemon: But this one remained closed. Edna Allen Dean: But this one is one of five places in the world that schools closed for five years. The other places are in Asia. Oloye Adeyemon: What were the conditions there in Asia? Edna Allen Dean: Communist counties. North Korea, Cambodia, Vietnam. Oloye Adeyemon: So you’re saying— Edna Allen Dean: We-we’re in that category. Oloye Adeyemon: - that Prince Edward County has that-that— Edna Allen Dean: Yeah. We have that distinction of being lumped with them. Oloye Adeyemon: - distinction. Uh-huh. Now, during those five years, the county was doing this with the full support of the state. Edna Allen Dean: Mm-hmm. Mm-hmm. Oloye Adeyemon: In resistance. Okay. Edna Allen Dean: Mm-hmm. And the governor. Oloye Adeyemon: And him. Edna Allen Dean: And everybody. Oloye Adeyemon: And, who was the governor at that time, do you know? Edna Allen Dean: Mm. I wanna say Godwin, but I-I’m not really sure. Almond? Oloye Adeyemon: Okay. We can-we can check that. Edna Allen Dean: Yeah. I’m not sure who was governor. Oloye Adeyemon: Later. So, we’re talking five years, we’re talking about—let me back up. The teachers who had children that were involved in the walkout, and I understand there were others besides your mother, they all lost their job [unintelligible 30:33] Edna Allen Dean: Mm-hmm. Well, once the schools closed, there were no jobs. Oloye Adeyemon: No. No. Even before that. I’m going back now [crosstalk 30:38] Edna Allen Dean: Oh, no. They didn’t all lose their jobs. Um, no. No. Many of them retained their jobs until the schools closed. Oloye Adeyemon: So it was because your s-your-your sister had been a— Edna Allen Dean: I think Mom— Oloye Adeyemon: - a leader in the-in the— Edna Allen Dean: That’s what they thought. They thought— Oloye Adeyemon: ’Cause she was one of the ones that went into— Edna Allen Dean: They thought Mom and Daddy had something to do with the planning. Oloye Adeyemon: But-but now there were some students that were actually designated leaders. They were-they were the ones that went inside the building. Do you think it was because your sister was one of those that actually left the-the larger group of students and went into represent the student’s demands? That they might have singled them out and that’s why— Edna Allen Dean: They did. They— Oloye Adeyemon: And that’s why some of the other children who might have had teachers for parents, who didn’t go in— Edna Allen Dean: Nobody else was on that committee that had a parent, a teacher for a parent. Oloye Adeyemon: The committee that went inside? Edna Allen Dean: Yeah. Oloye Adeyemon: Okay. Edna Allen Dean: Nobody had a teacher for a parent. Oloye Adeyemon: So was your mother the only teacher that lost her job? Edna Allen Dean: Yes. Oloye Adeyemon: I thought there were others. Edna Allen Dean: I think she was the only one initially that lost her job. Oloye Adeyemon: Oh, okay. She was the only one that lost her job because of the fact that you’re—okay. Edna Allen Dean: She was the only one they could tap immediately. Oloye Adeyemon: I understand. So the other teachers were able to keep their jobs during that period but then, an outcome of this was that they all lost their jobs when the schools were closed. Edna Allen Dean: Right. John Stokes talks about the fact that his father used to sell vegetables around the neighborhood. And when-when family found-when the White folks found out that he was a part, he and Kerry were a part of the committee, they told their wives they could no longer buy vegetables from him anymore. Oloye Adeyemon: So it wasn’t just teachers that there were rea-prisals— Edna Allen Dean: Anybody that they could-that they could-they could-they could, uh, attack. Oloye Adeyemon: And you were sending to—they pulled credit from Mr. Grif—uh, Reverend Griffin, so they were—there’s a lotta ways in which they intimidated people. Edna Allen Dean: Oh, yeah. Yeah. Yeah. Oloye Adeyemon: And it wasn’t just intimidating people to control what they did. It was also punishing them for what they had done. Edna Allen Dean: Mm-hmm. Mm-hmm. And setting an example. Oloye Adeyemon: And setting example. Edna Allen Dean: This is what’ll happen to you if you do this again. Oloye Adeyemon: So, moving on, the schools are closed. The-there are students that never complete high school as a result of that, because, in order to get to high school— Edna Allen Dean: White and Black students. Oloye Adeyemon: White and Black. Edna Allen Dean: Well, I did not know that there were any White students that had not gone back to school until they had the 40th commemoration of Brown versus Board of Education here in Farmville. And, when all the networks and everybody and their brother was here interviewin’ folk, they interviewed some White people that had never gone back to school. Oloye Adeyemon: That also suffered. Edna Allen Dean: And that was my first awareness, and I was literally shocked. Oloye Adeyemon: But, generally speaking, that didn’t occur as the general rule. Edna Allen Dean: Well, now that I have talked, you know, now that I have talked to some people and have a little bit more information. Poor Whites— Oloye Adeyemon: Did suffer. Edna Allen Dean: - did suffer. Oloye Adeyemon: Mm-hmm. Edna Allen Dean: And-and-and not-not-not only poor Whites, but-but families that were on the fringe, um— Oloye Adeyemon: Because the-the-the— Edna Allen Dean: - suffered. Oloye Adeyemon: - the, um, private education was costly. ’Cause there was the a private school setup. Edna Allen Dean: Yeah. You see-see-see, that was a private school, so they had to generate money for teachers and operation from tuitions. Oloye Adeyemon: Because the White students continued to get an education when the schools were closed. Edna Allen Dean: Those who could afford it. Oloye Adeyemon: For Black students, they had to go out of the county, or even out of the state in some cases. Edna Allen Dean: Or they didn’t go anywhere. Oloye Adeyemon: Or didn’t go anywhere. Edna Allen Dean: Like one of the-one of the department stores downtown used to hire White women to-to work as clerks. And, as soon as they earned enough money to pay for tuition for their children, then they would leave the job and they would hire another White lady so she could come in and earn money for her family. And— Oloye Adeyemon: This was for those that couldn’t afford it. Edna Allen Dean: Yes. And then, there’re, uh, instances wherein they opened the banks at midnight one night for White people to come downtown and get money to send their children to-to the academy. Oloye Adeyemon: So, and this was something you had first-hand knowledge about? Edna Allen Dean: It’s pretty accurate. Oloye Adeyemon: Okay. So we have some Whites not being able to go to school during this time, but there is, the Prince Edward Academy has opened and there are— Edna Allen Dean: It’s flourishing. Oloye Adeyemon: It’s flourishing. Now, as a result of that, again, some Blacks never were able to continue their education. Others had to go away to do it. At some point there was an-an effort to set up a free school. Can you— Edna Allen Dean: Yeah. White folks offered to— Oloye Adeyemon: When-when did that occur? Edna Allen Dean: Around the same time they started a school for the Whites. They offered— Oloye Adeyemon: [Crosstalk 35:07] this-this is right— Edna Allen Dean: It’s probably around-it’s probably around, uh, ’60, ’59 or ’60. Oloye Adeyemon: So a year or so after the schools have closed. Edna Allen Dean: Mm-hmm. Mm-hmm. Oloye Adeyemon: Who spearheads this effort? Edna Allen Dean: You mean to-to set up the school for Blacks? Oloye Adeyemon: Free school. Mm-hmm. Free school. Edna Allen Dean: I don’t know. Probably some of the same. There were 10 or 12 very powerful rich men in town. And they were probably the ones who put-they put up some of the initial money for the academy. And they, in turn, uh, uh, don’t ask me names, because I don’t remember them all, and I don’t wanna call the wrong person’s name. But I think they also made an offer for-to do the same thing for Black students. And the Black community said no. The NAACP said no ’cause that’s-that’s, I mean, that-that’s a continuation of segregated schools. Oloye Adeyemon: Mm-hmm. Edna Allen Dean: And, by that time, the whole movement had shifted towards, uh, integrated schools. Away from separate but equal. Oloye Adeyemon: Right. Because some of the early efforts in the South, very early efforts, were on the part of Blacks to get equity. You know— Edna Allen Dean: That’s basically I think what everybody started out wanting. Oloye Adeyemon: So, the free school was set up when and how? Edna Allen Dean: Once-once Kennedy, uh, John F. Kennedy got word and-and understood what was going on and realized the schools had been closed for five years there was federal intervention to try and reopen the schools. Meanwhile, they-there’s still pressure on the state to integrate. And other sections of the state had begun to integrate. So there were areas were things were beginning to work fairly well. And I think the-the people who control the-the sanctioners or legitimizers in this community realized the end was ahead. Uh, so that when they reopened the schools they reopened them with government funds, and it-it-they were known as the free schools. And that’s when all of the kids were encouraged to come back and they did testing and tried to get, you know, to get people back on track. Oloye Adeyemon: Now were students that were three or four years older than they would have been, did the return? Or were they simply picking up where—were they picking up where people left off? Edna Allen Dean: Yes. You had— Oloye Adeyemon: Or did— Edna Allen Dean: - to bring your last report card in. Oloye Adeyemon: It’s just that some of those students that were now 20-21 or 22, they just didn’t choose to— Edna Allen Dean: Mm-mm. Oloye Adeyemon: Okay. Wh-what—and many of them had moved away I guess by then as well. Edna Allen Dean: Some of them had moved away. Oloye Adeyemon: Some of ’em. Edna Allen Dean: And some of them were working in the area. Oloye Adeyemon: Wh-was-was the free school integrated? Edna Allen Dean: Mm-hmm. No. It was predominantly Black. Oloye Adeyemon: But there were Whites going? Edna Allen Dean: There were White teachers. Lots of ’em. Oloye Adeyemon: No White students. Edna Allen Dean: Mm-mm. Oloye Adeyemon: Okay. So it—this is, in actuality, an attempt to provide education to the Black children. The issue of desegregating the schools has not been resolved yet. Edna Allen Dean: Do that one again. Oloye Adeyemon: The-the—desegregating the schools has not been resolved yet. Edna Allen Dean: Oh, you mean— Oloye Adeyemon: The free schools— Edna Allen Dean: - at this particular time. Oloye Adeyemon: At this particular time. This is just a way to get Black students back into the classroom. Edna Allen Dean: Well, yeah. I-I guess yes and no. I-I—you know, it had not been resolved, But, again, I think the writing was on the wall. Now there was a professor at Longwood, and I’m trying to—I don’t know if Dr. Moore’s son was at the free schools or not. But I know his son was the first White student that they-that they had in the public schools. Oloye Adeyemon: Now, when you say the public schools, you’re not talking about the free schools? Edna Allen Dean: No. I’m talking about public schools. Oloye Adeyemon: Okay. Edna Allen Dean: But, see, he might have gone in with the free school at the time the free schools reopened. Oloye Adeyemon: The student or the-or the parent? Edna Allen Dean: The-the-the student. The-the parent’s s-son went to— Oloye Adeyemon: Integrated schools. Edna Allen Dean: Right. With— Oloye Adeyemon: But you’re not sure if he started during the period of free schools. Edna Allen Dean: I’m not really sure. I’m really not sure. Oloye Adeyemon: But that wasn’t necessarily the intent of the free schools, just to get the Black students back in. Edna Allen Dean: The-the intent of the free schools is that anybody could go. They— Oloye Adeyemon: Well, anybody that-anybody— Edna Allen Dean: - were free schools. Oloye Adeyemon: - to-to—I-and I-I realize we need to rephrase that. To get public education get going— Edna Allen Dean: Going again in the county. Oloye Adeyemon: - get going again. Edna Allen Dean: And anybody who wanted to go— Oloye Adeyemon: Who wanted to go, could go. Edna Allen Dean: - could go. Oloye Adeyemon: And then, soon after that, the schools were integrated. Edna Allen Dean: The-the schools reopened, and that’s when Dr. Anderson came in as superintendent. And, uh, integration started. Oloye Adeyemon: Okay. Now, was there a phase of desegregation that preceded integration where, I know in some areas of the South it was a choice thing where you-your Black children could go to a White school. But White children did not choose to go— Edna Allen Dean: See, we-we didn’t have but one school. We had one White school and one Black school. So it wasn’t like you had a choice to go. If you were gonna go to school, you had to go to one of those. Oloye Adeyemon: In-in-in Summerton, South Carolina there was first a kind of choice provision, no White students chose to go to the Black school. But a handful of White-of Black students started going to the White school. Then they changed it to a zoning provision, and you had to go to the closest school, which woulda meant that Blacks would have been to the White school and Whites woulda went to Black and— Edna Allen Dean: I don’t think the White school— Oloye Adeyemon: The Whites left the school system altogether. Edna Allen Dean: - ever reopened. I don’t think the White-the White school ever reopened. Oloye Adeyemon: It never reopened. Edna Allen Dean: I don’t think it ever reopened. Oloye Adeyemon: So the Black school became integrated? What had been a Black school previously became integrated. Edna Allen Dean: You had the-you had the academy. So the bulk of the White kids were going to the academy. Oloye Adeyemon: What happened to the ones that didn’t? Edna Allen Dean: A few of them started trinkling into the Black school. Oloye Adeyemon: What had been the Black school. Edna Allen Dean: Right. Oloye Adeyemon: So, here, when integration occurred, which I’m understanding you to say has been somewhat limited, or was somewhat limited? Edna Allen Dean: No. It was limited in the beginning. Oloye Adeyemon: In the beginning. Edna Allen Dean: But it’s pretty much maybe 60/40 now. Oloye Adeyemon: So, it’s— Edna Allen Dean: It’s not—sometimes it’s probably 50/50 in terms of White and Blacks at the schools now. Oloye Adeyemon: And it’s—so has it worked pretty well? Edna Allen Dean: What are you—how are you defining well? Oloye Adeyemon: In terms of compliance or-or parents. I mean, have there been-has there been problems in resistance during the phase of integration to Whites sending their children to the schools. And-or has the academy—it sounds as if you’re saying that over time many of the ch—well, is it the case that many of the children that were going to the academy, the academy lost some of the population? Edna Allen Dean: I think a lotta people ran ou
Description
Allen became one of the first African American teachers to be tenured at Longwood College, while also working as a licensed Mortician in Farmville, Virginia. Her interview provides fist-hand accounts of life as a student in the segregated Farmville, Va., school system, witnessing a student walkout, as well as her accounts of the backlash families of color experienced during the struggle for integration.
Date Created
08/29/2001
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- brown v. board of education national historical park
- brown v. board of education
- african americans
- african american heritage
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- civic engagement
- civil rights
- education
- history
- integration
- justice
- learning
- oral history
- segregation
- schools
- edna allen dean
- virginia
- davis v. county school board
- davis v. county school board of prince edward county
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