V-,.
Faith and courage are more than
mere words in a dictionary to the
Negro students attending Newbold
school at Fort Barnwell.
Day in and day out, for many
years, they have seen a member
of their race, and heard him too,
teach - without benefit of vocal
chords or a larynx. Despair can
find no foothold to throttle his
spirit, and his heart bubbles over
with belief in the goodness of God.
Robert Wellington Boley was
born in Cambridge, Mass., and aft
er graduation from High school he
received his BS degree from Shaw
University in Raleigh. For 10 years
he taught at Winton High, before
he accepted a position on the fac
ulty of New Bern’s West Street
High school.
Six years later, on the basis of
an outstanding record, he was ap
pointed principal. And as football
coach he turned out a string of
spectacular teams. One o^ the grid-
ders he 'developed was. Bob Mann,
who later became an All-America
end at Michigan, a Rose Bowl star,
and a mainstay for the profession
al Cleveland Browns.
Boley’s service as principal ter
minated when, in 1949, he under
went surgery at Kinston’s Memorial
General Hospital for removal of his
left vocal chord, found to be ma
lignant.
A year later he entered Jefferson
Memorial Hospital in Philadelphia,
.where one of the nation’s leading
specialists removed his larynx. Re-
slgpedj to .the Jact that his. schocd
etireejr was oyei«'.Be^y’ took
orj^ course af A&T College .cin
Cfreensboro. He learned to reweave
damaged fabric^.
Robert i. Pugh, superintendent
of Craven County schools was well
aware of his ability, and admired
his attitude in the face of adversi
ty. He figured there was a place
for a man like Boley in his school,
system.
Meanwhile, the handicapped
teacher had learned to talk a little
through breath control. The Ameri
can Cancer Society gave him con
siderable encouragement, and for
a man as brave as Boley, considera
ble encouf^gement was more than
ample.
Pugh, as many know is a 33rd de
gree Mason, and lecturere for re
unions of the New Bern Scottish
Rite Consistory. Knowing that a la
pel microphone and loud speaker
was sometimes used in rituals, he
conferred with Alfred “Shorty”
Kafer, Jr., the stage director.
Kafer agreed with Pugh that such
a microphone was made to order
for Boley’s impediment. They in
vited the teacher to accompany
them to the Consistory’s auditorium
for a try-out. The set-up worked
like a charm.
The Negro teacher could be
heard throughout the auditorium,
as he spoke the lines that were to
give him back his career. Superin
tendent Pugh offered him a job
teaching the eighth grade at New-
bold school, and he accepted.
In his classroom he hung a small
loud speaker in a rear corner near
the ceiling. A wire ran from it,
along the wall, connecting with an
amplifier on the teacher’s desk.
A tiny microphone that Boley
wore alternately on his lapel and
around his neck connected to the
amplifier by means of a lengthy
cable, permitting him to move any
where in the room for individual
instruction.
It worked out very nicely, which
came as no surprise to those who
knew Boley intimately. Not only
is he a likeable teacher and a
brave man, but a man of strong
inner faith.
Until his operation, he had been
a lay reader at St. Cyprians Episco
pal church in New Bern. He has
complete belief in the power of
prayer, and likes to give credit for
(Continued on bock papo)
The NEW BERN
^ ^
4.
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Si Per Copy
VOLUME 4
NEW BERN, N. C., FRIDAY, JULY 28, 1961
NUMBER J7
.a
i /
\:4
^elci(j^e sign foi* visitors,; B# to
when a shark showed up in Neuse riveT Monday ihorifl- the living, but a good look at his teeth convinced us
ing. Zeb Jones found this 6-foot, 44nch, critter in his net' I wouldn’t have been advisable anyhow.—^Photo by
off Sandy Point. You heard about it, and just as you pre- I Benners.
New Bern Television Fans
Didn't Yawn Tuesday Night
New Bernians already vexed by
oppressive July heat that lingered
after the sun had set in a cloudy-
ribbed western sky, had little
cause to be jovial this past Tuesday
night.
Perspiring mothers, glad to be
done with dishes, tri^ in vain to
lull their fretting babes into the
Slumber Land of Winken, BUnken
and Nod.
Tired fathers pulled their shoes
off, puffed on smelly cigars their
better halves detest, or dangled
filter cigarettes from grumbling
mouths that dropped in discomfort
and disgust.
Dogs, still panting as if it were
high noon instead of early evening,
scratched forlornly at real or im
aginary fleas, and sought the solace
of familiar porches where loved
ones wouldn’t spurn their pre
sence.
Prowling cats, a little slower of
step than usual but not to be out
done by the weather, slinked fur
tively into neighboring backyards.
Their immediate intention was to
pounce upon unwary songbirds
nesting dangerously in the insecu
rity of a low-sprawling hedge.
Citizens young and old were do
ing a minimum of stirring, taking
their cue from motionless leaves
on trees that stood like weary
sentinels in the enciix;ling shadows.
(Streets of this ancient town that
has seen centuries of similar sum
mers come and go had softened
and in some spots buckled during
a day of relentless sunshine.
Throughfares remained warm, and
you could feel the feverishness
rising from asphalt, and drifting
across sidewalks and lawns.
Resigned to the fact that this is
the season for repeat programs on
television networks, but bored to
distraction, villagers turned their
sets on, and settled back for an
expected interlude -of dull, twice-
viewed entertainment.
Although newspapers foretold it,
thousands had forgotten the scdied-
uled speech of a worried fellow
American, whose boyishness — al
ternately admired and scorned by
friends and enemies — is fast giv
ing way to gravity well beyond his
years.
, Then it happened. Flashed upon
screens in homes all over the city,
and throughout the land, was the
image of the President of the
United States. He had a message to
deliver to the nation that had
elected him only months ago — a
carefully written text he would
adhere to.
This was no time for ad lib
bing — no time for the clever
quip. Reading his words slowly and
deliberately, he presented in for
thright fashion the unyielding
stand that America is pledged to
and will honor in the Berlin crisis.
Voices were stilled in countless
living rooms, - here on the Neuse
and Trent, agd pulses quickened
as John Fitzgerald Kennedy, a
wounded and decorated hero of
World War H,'warned the Kremlin
that the United States would join
in the horrors of armed conflict, if
forced into it, to preserve its
right to remain in West Berlin.
Haunted no doubt by the mem
ory of Neville Chamberlain — an
umbrella-toting British Prime Min-
ister who was intimidated by swag
gering Adolf Hitler — the Presi
dent made it clear that the signi
ficance of West Berlin, as a testing
ground for the cause of free peo
ples, is global in scope.
Kennedy, in his remarks aimed
at Khrushchev, left no room for
doubt that the United States is
determined to stand its ground re
gardless of the consequences. What
those consequences could be were
outlined explicitly to fellow Amer
icans.
At worst there would be war
— even nuclear war. At best, there
would be billions more spent for
military preparedness and civil de
fense. Hundreds of thousands,
among the young men of the na
tion, were destined to don a uni
form and serve their country for
months, or years. ''
The words were uttered by a
Chief Executive who know the sob
ering effect they x^ouid have on
millons of listeners. He mentioned
(the disruption that will extend into
countless homes, as his plans go
into action. The day following his
history-making speech he brought
a message to Congress, but to rank
and file Americans it was some
thing of an anti-climax. The big
speeOh — perhaps one of the mo
mentous ones of all time — was
the Tuesday night address.
How did the average New Bern-
ian react to the President’s pre
sentation of his aims and hopes in
dealing with the West Berlin cris
is? Well, he wasn’t happy about
the matter, but a sample survey by
The Mirror reveals that citizens
share Kennedy’s belief that a firm
stand must be taken.
“No one in his right mind wants
war,” one man we interviewed
said, “and I’m hoping and praying
that war won’t come. But yielding
to a bully never solves anything.
Sooner or later you’re forced to
fight. If you stand up to him,
there’s always the possibility that
he’ll back down.”
A woman whose husband was in
World War H, and who has a son
destined for military service in
the very near future, said, “War is
a dreadful thing to contemplate,
and I keep telling myself that it
isn’t going to happen. I can’t be
lieve that Russia will start some
thing that could destroy all man
kind, but with freedom at stake in
West Berlin, we’ve got to face up
to the Communists once and for
all.”
Most of the New Bernians with
whom we discussed President Ken
nedy’s speech had a pretty fair
knowledge of circumstances sur
rounding the crisis in West Berlin.
It is obvious that a high percent
age of the newspaper readers here
are following international events
as they are reeled off daily in dis--
tant places.
In New Bern, at least, it is the
concensus of opinion that President
Kennedy — very much on the hot
seat — has made the best of a bad
situation in his approach to the
West Berlin crisis.
What will history say about the
speech he made on a sultry Ti%|-
day night in July? Your guess is
as good as the next fellow’s includ
ing perhaps the President himself.