Washington Manly Wingate and Building Renaming
The Quickest Cancel in Cancel Culture
In what has to go down as the quickest cancel in (and of) “cancel culture,” the decision to rename a venerable campus building itself was cancelled just nineteen days after it was announced.
The Encyclopedia of North Carolina writes of Washington Manly Wingate “Washington Manly Wingate, Baptist minister and college president, was born in Darlington, S.C., the son of William and Isabella Blackwell Wingate. After receiving an A.B. degree from Wake Forest College in 1849, Wingate continued his education at Furman Theological Institution from 1849 to 1851. He was ordained a Baptist minister on 3 Mar. 1852 by the Darlington, S.C., Baptist Church while pastor of Ebenezer Baptist Church and assistant pastor at Darlington. In October 1852, at age twenty-four, he was elected agent of Wake Forest College to raise a $50,000 endowment, a task he completed in 1857. Wingate was elected both professor of moral and intellectual philosophy and rhetoric and president pro tempore of Wake Forest in June 1853. He served as acting president from 1854 to 1856 and as president from 1856 to 1879. Under his guidance the college grew steadily until the Civil War, when it was forced to close. Its buildings were used as a hospital, and its financial security was invested in Confederate States bonds. During the war Wingate preached as an evangelist to the soldiers, was associate editor of the Biblical Recorder, and from 1862 to 1866 served as pastor of Baptist churches in Franklinton, Oxford, and Wake Forest. After the conflict Wake Forest College reopened, and Wingate began his second term as president in 1866. Faced with the problems of finance, he sent James S. Purefoy to secure endowments from Northern Baptists. The James W. Denmark loan fund was established, a new building was completed, and Wingate selected an excellent faculty. Though a strict disciplinarian, he was aware of the needs of the students; one biographer wrote, "He was so bright and cheerful and lovable." Wingate was an able preacher and speaker and presented the cause of Wake Forest College at many association and convention meetings. He married Mary E. Webb of Bertie County in December 1850. They had seven children: Alice (Mrs. Needham Yancey Gulley), Lizzie (Mrs. W. J. Simmons), Walter Blackwell, William Jonathan, Belle (Mrs. Richard Battle), Sallie (Mrs. M. H. P. Clark), and Ruth (Mrs. Enoch Walter Sikes). Wingate received an honorary D.D. degree from Columbian College (now George Washington University), Washington, D.C., in 1865 and from The University of North Carolina in 1871. He served as the first pastor of the Selma Baptist Church from 1872 to 1873. His only published work was a tract printed for soldiers entitled I Have Brought My Little Brother Back (1862?). For fifteen years prior to his death, Wingate was aware of a heart condition. It finally proved fatal and he died of a heart attack. His funeral, conducted in the Wake Forest Baptist Church on 1 Mar. 1879 by William Bailey Royall, was attended by so many friends that a special train had to be chartered. He was buried at Wake Forest.”
Wingate Hall, home of the Wake Forest Divinity School was named for him – that is until recently when the university’s ‘Renaming Committee’ learned a few disturbing facts about this great leader and benefactor of the school. You see, Wingate was also an outspoken proponent of the institution of slavery. During his tenure as president, the university received a rather unusual gift of property – on May 7, 1860 then president Wingate sold the property to help the struggling institution’s finances. The property happened to be sixteen slaves.
The renaming committee immediately said the name of the building (Wingate Hall) should be changed. Their recommended change: “May 7, 1860 Hall,” that being the date of the infamous selling of people to fund the college. University president Nathan Hatch made a public announcement of the change. The problem is that it was a “really dumb idea” in the words of Jennifer Kabbany, writing in “The College Fix.” [1.]
If alumni were offended by the newly revealed history of the college’s fourth president, they were in no way happy with the building being renamed “May 7, 1860 Hall.” The commemoration of a slave auction was even more offensive than the name of some old guy on a building. Nineteen days after the renaming was announced, another announcement was made rescinding the change. It’s not that easy being ‘Woke.’
The story was even picked up by the UK Guardian [2.] and ‘jumped the pond.’ But there is a lesson to be learned here. It is perhaps one best illustrated by another university’s shamed benefactor, football coach Joe Paterno. After a scandal with one of his assistants, a statue of Paterno was removed from the University of Pennsylvania campus and Paterno was stripped of his (largely titular) head coach position.
Workers remove the statue of legendary coach Joe Paterno.
We all have things we’ve done in our past for which we’re grateful that the internet wasn’t invented yet.”
I mention Paterno because he was a man of stature who led a great program for many years. Largely because of that he still was in a largely honorary position as ‘Head Coach’ though it was obvious that other people largely ran the program. In hindsight, he probably should have taken retirement and a skybox at the games. But as a ‘living legend’ he was on the sidelines, and when a dark scandal revealed itself about the program, well, he WAS the head coach, after all. He had to take the blame and the shame.
Which brings me to my point, no leader is without sin. Look at the Bible. When it describes Israel’s leaders in particular, it is for mature audiences. “All have sinned an fallen short of the Glory of God.” We all sin, we all need Christ’s Redemption – all of us. It’s probably a dangerous thing to have one’s name engraved in the frieze of a great building. “All have sinned…” We all have things we’ve done in our past for which we’re grateful that the internet wasn’t invented yet.
Walking about the campus of Wake Forest, one sees many buildings named for members of the R. J. Reynolds family – a reminder that another vice, TOBACCO, helped to fund the college in the 1950’s. The cigarette factory funded higher education and perhaps is responsible for thousands of cases of lung cancer. The family’s history at Reynolda house is a study in itself. Yes, it is colorful. [3, 4.]
Most of us remember the life of Billy Graham, a man who’s life, like so few others, was lived in the integrity of his calling. So many great leaders in the Faith have fallen, and the question is often asked if their name should be removed from the ministry. The question is a good one. Men who have done great good, but have fallen greatly; what to do with them? Again, the life of Billy Graham is a good place to start. Called to preach the Gospel, he knew the calling involved a lot of travel. He was not one to think himself above temptation or scandal, however. He NEVER traveled alone. He had people around him watching his spiritual backside.
I knew a lady who knew the Graham family personally. She told me that ‘Uncle Billy’ (that’s what she called him) NEVER went into a hotel room alone. [5.] He NEVER went in first. His trusted accountability and security men went in first. He was concerned about two things: One was the obvious danger that as a public figure there could be lurking a trap, such as a scantily clad female and a photographer, wanting to ‘get’ a story. But Graham, the man who brought the news of Divine Redemption to so may, was well aware of his own ability to fall, and he guarded himself well.
Graham was one of the first evangelists to integrate his crusades in that era. In 1953 he held his first integrated crusade in Chattanooga, Tennessee. [6.] He refused to do separate crusades (or have separate sections) for different races, and that got him in some disputes with others in ministry. I mention that simply to underscore the fact that others engaged in Graham’s passion for lost humanity also did great work, though they lacked Graham’s coming to a deeper understanding of IMAGO DEI. So what is history to do? I believe that the most honest telling, warts and all, is far better that erasure.
The "Quickest Cancel in Cancel Culture:" The renaming of Wingate Hall.
So what is history to do? I believe that the most honest telling, warts and all, is far better that erasure.”
James Ralph Scales’ Movie Moment
James Ralph Scales was president of Wake Forest University from 1967 to 1983. He led that institution through the turbulent decade of the 1970s. He was a charming, eloquent man, and a member of the Cherokee Nation. His warm sense of humor no doubt helped him speak to the issues of the day. Few people will remember his brief career in the movies – a cameo appearance in a film called “Somebody Moved My Mountain.”
Scales was friends with Joseph Wallace King, the artist in residence at Reynolda Village, just off campus. It was part of the R. J. Reynolds estate from which the campus was carved in the 1950s. King was an interesting fellow in his own right. As a child he’d wanted to be a trapeze artist in the circus. That dream was not to be. In his biography it says: “Due to an accident and medical negligence Joe lost his left arm at the tender age of 11. With his dreams of being a tightrope walker vanquished, he began to pursue another great interest, drawing and painting. He was hired by Carolina Theatre in Winston-Salem and was making $22.00 a week. That was pretty good money in 1929. He remembered that his teachers at Reynolds were making $20.00 a week. These were depression years and times were hard for everybody.
It was during these years that Joe married his high school sweetheart and model, Earline Heath. She too, was an art student. They moved to Washington. D.C. where they felt there would be more opportunities for them. Here Joe worked as a window dresser for Hecht and Kann’s Department stores. After some years he opened a small shop of his own and was hired back by both these stores to do freelance work. While living in Washington he was able to attend Catholic University and The Corcoran Institute. Paying the bills meant that his studies were put on hold several times according to him. He was a restless soul and kept trying to find his niche in this world. Aside from the day jobs of window dressing and commercial art work he entertained in clubs and theatres at night as a ventriloquist with his little dummy “Brandywine”. An Audition with Paul Whiteman gave him courage to pursue his love of the stage. He was hired by Whiteman and began traveling as an act between performances of the Paul Whiteman Orchestra. Occasionally, he would get a commission to paint a portrait which would help out a bit and eventually, it was his portrait painting which brought him back to Winston-Salem where he had received several commissions and figured that it was time to leave Washington.
Returning to Winston-Salem was the right choice. Soon he was making a living as a portrait painter and through his connections was able to travel abroad and work on developing a style of painting all his own. He had his eye on the blacksmith shop on the Reynolds Estate and managed to convince Charlie Babcock that it would make a better artist’s studio than blacksmith shop. He remembered that they were still shoeing horses on Saturdays when he took over the blacksmith shop and began to transform it into a studio.
Charles Babcock was married to Mary Reynolds, the daughter of tobacco tycoon R.J. Reynolds and they lived in the Reynolds home called Reynolda. Charlie took a special interest in Joe and his career and made certain that he met the right people. Charlie also financed a trip to Italy under the guise of chaperone for his daughter, Betsy. Joe was able to see first hand the paintings of the great masters and he began working feverishly to develop his own style.”
Joe had another dream. He wanted to buy a mountain near Winston-Salem and build a studio there. The owner, however, refused to sell. She said, “I don't want to sell it because I always want to feel that my mountain is there,” King said in a 1975 interview. “I wouldn't have moved her mountain.” So, King was never able to build his ‘Olana,’ but the experience inspired his 1972 project where he ventured into cinema.
The film has to be autobiographical, as it deals with dashed dreams and disappointment. While some pretty good performances are put in by Chris Coan and Zan Dula, who went to the North Carolina School of the Arts, most of the cast was – well – King’s vast group of friends! James Ralph Scales was in it as was North Carolina State Senator Ham Horton, who played a deputy sheriff. The character of Rick Laytham is a thinly veiled portrayal of Zach Reynolds, heir to the tobacco fortune. In a rather slapstick chase scene, Laytham acts out Zach’s passion for cars, airplanes, and motorcycles. I still want to know how King convinced the North Carolina Department of Highways to allow a scene where Laytham flies (actually taxis) a Pitts airplane under a bridge on U.S. 52 near Pilot Mountain.
By casting everyone he knew in Winston-Salem, King unwittingly created the highest grossing film in a week in North Carolina as everybody came to see someone they knew in their ‘fifteen minutes.’ People came over and over again. This was the era before there were DVDs and when the film opened at the Winston Theater, they lined up for it. Ham Horton says “I remember that virtually everybody in Winston-Salem was snuck in there. It was a wonderful polyglot bunch of people who were having a great time. And it turned into a darned good movie.”
The Real Zach Reynolds
Zach Reynolds should be remembered most as a mentor to youth and young men.
Zach Reynolds, born to wealth, actually grew up in what he calls the “backwoods of Winston-Salem.” He lived life with the pedal pressed to the floor, indulging in his passion for drag racing, motorcycles (he owned a whole collection), flying and the engineering behind all of it. He joined the army at nineteen. He raced at LeMans. He hung out with a lot of celebrities. He put a rocket engine in a Galaxy 500 and called it the “Tobacco King.”
But Zack found his true purpose in life as a mentor to young boys in his community. He became an encourager to them. On September 4, 1979 he was passenger in a plane being flown by one of his mentees, eighteen year old Gary Cermak, who wanted to show off his flying skills. The young man had just earned his pilot’s license at the encouragement of Reynolds. Twenty minutes after they took off the plane went down in a wooded area near Pinnacle, North Carolina, killing everyone on board.
THYME Commentary Has a New Home
[click to read]
Here are links to articles and publications we're reading. (read more)
