TRIBUNAL AIDI
A VIABLE. VALID REQUIREMENT
RESPONDING TO
BLACK NORTH CAROLINA
VOLUME IV, NO. 15
WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER 15,1976
*6.00 PER YEAR
25CEM^j
North Carolina Press Association, Inc.
The 1976 Editions of THE TRIBUNAL AID wUl
be dedicated to America s bicentennial Cele-
hration^ nith emphasis on contributions our Race
has made in the making of America, from
birth to the present.
In 1976 there should not be a need to lift these
contributions from Isolated sources. Our past
should ne interwoven into the fabric of our ci
vilization, because we are. except for the Indian.
America’s oldest ethnic minority.
We have helped make America what it was,
and what it is, since the founding of Virginia.
We ha\e been a factor in many major issues in
our history. There have been many misdeeds
against us, yet we have been able to live through
them and fight back. This is living proof of our
histor>.
Our r»le in the making of America is neither
well known or correctly known. Many positive
contributions have escaped historians and have
not found their wav into the pages of many
history books.
\^’e will strive to give ‘readers, Black and
white, many little-known facts about our past
and it is ho|NMl thai a proper p^rsp4^ctive of our
history will be of value to persons who may
bt*lie>e that as Black people we have ao. un
worthy past: and hence, no strong clainis to
nil rights of other Americans.
Faye Ashe, Black History Editor
FORMER HIGH POINT RESIDENT
RHYMES FROM THE DELTA
PART ONE
A few years ago I found a book entitled
RHYMES FROM THE DELTA. The cover of the
book was worn and I had no idea at the moment
the author of the book. When I turned to the title
page I discovered that the author was a High
Pointer and a member of my church.
RHYMES FROM THE DELTA is a collection of
Narratives and Poems by Mr. George W.
McCorkle. In the words of Mr. McCorkle, I would
like to share with you some of his recollections
about the schools he attended, his first composi
tions written and first poem published.
I am sure some of the recollections given here
and names mentioned will bring back memories to
many people in the City of High Point and other
states and cities visited by Mr. McCorkle.
Many of his poems are dedicated to people of
this city, many of whom we have known.
FIRST PUBUC SCHOOL ATTENDED
The first public school I attended was in the
country near Pineville, North Carolina. The name
of the school was "Boatright School." I do not
know how it chanced to get such a name. My
teacher there was Miss Mary Johnson from
Charlotte, North Carolina. There in that little,
one-room schoolhouse, as a chile, I had some rich
experiences which helped me to discover my love
for verse, and especially thyme. Every Friday
afternoon during the school term, I had an oppor
tunity to speak myself, or the joy of hearing others
speak. In most cases the teacher would not know
the title of the next performer's speech. I believe
many of the students did not know themselves
what they were going to say until they were on the
floor. It seemed that many of the speeches were
made up on the spur of the moment. As I recall,
most of the speeches were humorous, and many of'
them rediculous, but because of my love for verse
and humor, I Hstened, as it were, with abated
breath, and always enjoyed those programs to the
very last.
SECOND COUINTRY SCHOOL ATTENDED
The second country school I attended was near
the little village of Lowesville, North Carolina. The
name of the school was Granite's Knob. Again I
am telling you that I do not know the origin of this
name. We lived in this section quite some time,
and since they changed teachers almost every year
out there, I am unable to recall their names, but I
do remember the name of one teacher who make a
great impression on me as an ambitious boy. The
name of the teacher was Prof. J.A. Rhyne. I did
not like Professor Rhyne too well, because I
thought he was too strict on me in my studies. I
endeavored to do my best, but my best was
seldom satisfactory to him. Something happened
at the closing of that country school one year that I
shall never forget: In that day, the closing of
country schools was know as "Exhibitions." I was
the star in that Exhibition, To this exhibition
everybody was invited and came from miles from
every countryside. The choir of the church which
Prof. Rhyne was a member. Gold Hill Baptist
Church, was invited to sing for the occassion. It
was a custom, in those days, for every family to
bring a basket of food for such occassions to make
a big spread at the close of the day' s exercise.
All the participants on the program that after
noon, except myself, had been given one selection
to memorize. Prof. Rhyne saw fit to give me two
selections to memorize and besides, placed me
last on the program. When I rose to speak. Prof.
Rhyne was at my back, and when I finished the
two poems, the good professor asked me to remain
standing. And with his hand on my shoulder, that
man who I almost hated, began to tell the audience
of my ability as a boy, and predicted for me a great
future. I then better understood Prof. Rhyne's
past attitude toward me.
FIRST COMPOSITION
I do not remember the verses, but it was in a
classroom at The High Point Normal and Indus
trial School, High Point, North Carolina, where I
discovered that I possessed some talent for writing
verse. Miss Halsey, the music teacher, had a class
composing verses, describing a group of children
skating on an icy pond. In this exercise, I found
myself able to compose two or three verses before
most of them could write even one verse. But not
even at that time did it dawn upon me that I would
aspire to become a writer of verse.
Up until this time I had contented myself to read
and entertain from the writings of other authors,
and especially Paul Laurence Dunbar.
FIRST PUBUSHED POEM
I saw my first poem in print at Biddle University
Charlotte, North Carolina, (Now Johnson C. Smith
University), where I was a student. During that
spring Biddle's baseball team had won every
game played. This great victory so inspired me
that I wrote a poem dedicated to Biddle's Baseball
Team. The following are three of the verses:
BIDDLE' S BASEBALL TEAM
Once more the season has come around
To play the baseball game;
The boys of Biddle should be crowned.
For they have won great game.
On Easter Monday, at Latta Park
Was the first game of the season,
And from that Biddle has made a mark;
She's prepared: that's the reason.
Of all the many baseball teams
In schools beneath the sun,
It has been proven, and still it seems
That Biddle's the leading one.
I first showed my verse to Prof. Charles H.
Shute who was a member of the Biddle University
faculty. Prof. Shute spoke very encouragingly of
my effort. The next person to look over the Hnes
was my brother, E. A. McCorkle, who was also a
student there at the time. After complimenting
the writing of the verses, my brother advised me
to take the poem to Mr. Whitfield, his classmate,
who was editor of the college paper, "The Argus."
Mr. Whitfield, after reading the verses, redily
consented to publish it in the next issue of the
college paper. That was to be a new day for me,
for I had never seen any of my writings in print. It
seemed that I could hardly wait for the appearance
of the next issue of "The Argus." During the time
of my waiting, days, seemed like weeks; sleep
went from me, and I gave very little attention to
my studies.
PAPER COMES FROM PRESS
Finally "The Argus" appeared with the poem
dedicated to Biddle's Baseball Team by George
W. McCorkle. That was one of the happiest days
of my life. From the writing andpublishing of
those verses, I caught inspiration to go on to
greater heights.
Mr. E. D. Downing who is now Dr. Downing of
Roanoke, Virginia, and who was also a classmate
of my brother, was secretary for the school paper.
He informed me that because of the poem dedicat
ed to Biddle's Baseball Team, more copies of the
paper had been sold that month than of any pre
vious issue. That was very encouraging to one in
his first attempt at composition of verse.
SECOND POEM WRITTEN AND PUBUSHED
While still a student in Biddle University, Miss
Annie B. Warner, daughter of the late Bishop A.
J. Warner, died suddenly at her home in Char
lotte. Miss Warner had taught for a number of
years in my home town, Gastonia, North Carolina.
I was a student in the school at the time she was a
teacher there. So. I conceived the idea of writing
a poem to her memory. After writing the verses, I
carried the poem early the next morning to the
home of the deceased, explaining that I was a
student in Biddle University, but had known Miss
Warner at my home, Gastonia, where she had
taught for a number of years, and asked that the
poem be read at the funeral that afternoon, and I
walked away, felling that my task was finished.
FIRST OPPORTUMTY TO READ OWN POETIC
COMPOSITION IN PUBUC
While off the University campus, during the
morning, a telephone message had come to the
school inquiring for a Mr. McCorkle who had
written a poem as a tribuite to Miss Warner, and
had asked that he would be present that afternoon
to read the poem at the funeral. I was somewhat
reluctant about going to the funeral to read a
poem, but my brother insisted, stating that it
might mean something to me in the future. So, I
consented to ge. When the time came for me to
read the poem, I was introduced as representing
Biddle University in a poem written as a tribute to
the mernory of the deceased. The following week,
the poem was published in "The Star of Zion,"
official organ of the African Methodist Episcopal
Zion Church, Charlotte, N.C. I quote the poem
below:
TO THE MEMORY OF THE LATE
MISS ANNIE B. WARNER
In haste to Bishop Warner' s home
The monster, death, has sped,
And touched his daughter, Annie's heart.
Which caused us tears to shed.
Few days ago, she walked and talked
With friends in deepest love.
But now she has her great reward
In the glory world above.
In youthm she was a lovely child.
And learned to trust her God;
Has ever since, with eager feet.
The path of goodness trod.
She went to school through sacrifice
To learn the lessons taught.
And pondered in her heart each day
How vie'tries could be wrought.
She entered upon her life' s great work
With brave and earnest heart;
Though many things adverse to face.
She always did her part.
She trained the rninds of many youth
Who now give her the praise;
Her works will be a monument
Through everlasting days.
With aching hearts, we look upon
The place she ably filled;
We now break down in tears and cry,
"Alas, her voice is stilled."
We never more shall see her face
In this vain world of sin.
But meet her when our crowns are won,
As we go marching in.
ENTERS NATIONAL REUGIOUS
TRAINING SCHOOL
Durham, North Carolina
After completing the normal course at Biddle
University, 1 went to Durham, North Carolina,
where I entered The National Religious Training
School (Now North Carolina College) of which the
late Dr. James E. Shepard was Founder and
President. Dr. Shepard expressed and demon
strated much interest in my writing. He gave me
many opportunities to get before the public.
During the Summer School, he would often have
me appear before the teachers, in the evening, at
their programs with some of my poems.
At the death of his father, the late Dr. Augustus
Shepard, who up until his death had been pastor of
White Rock Baptist Church there in Durham, for a
number of years, I wrote a poem and dedicated it
to his memory. The deceased was well known
throughout the State of North Carolina, for in
former years he had served as a State Missionary
of the Baptist Denomination. President Shepard
sent copies of this poem to the churches through
out the state where his father had labored. Here
in this school I had the pleasure of the friendship
and encouragement of many others, among whom
were Rev. John H. Moore, head of the Theological
Department of the School, and also the late Miss
Abbie Williams, head of the Music Department.
George
McCorkle
IN THE CITY OF DURHAM
In the city of Durham, it was my pleasure to
know the late Dr. A. M. Moore, who was then the
Treasurer of the N. C. Mutual Life Insurance
Company, and Mr. C. C. Spaulding who was
Secretary of the company. Dr. Moore who was
superintendent of the Sunday School of White
Rock Baptist Church, gave me an opportunity to
give a recital in the Sunday School room auditor
ium of that great church.
One morning I visited the office of Mr.
Spaulding and inquired if he would be interested
in my writing a poem for the company. He told me
to go ahead and write it. In a day or two I was back
in his office again with the poem. After reading
my feeble effort, Mr. Spaulding asked me to give
it another trial. When I returned the second time,
Mr. Spaulding seemed to have been very much
pleased with my second attempt. He told me that
he didn't know what I was expecting, but he was
going to give me five dollars. As a student, I
needed the five dollars very badly, but the interest
shown in my writing by Mr. Spaulding meant far
more to me than the five dollars. I have kept in
touch with this great character down through the
years, and recently on the occasion of the celebra
tion of his seventy-fourth birthday, I wrote a poem
as a tribute to him which is part of this book.
ENTER HAMPTON INSTITUTE
Druing those years while seeking an education
I could have been properly call "The Roving Poet,"
for I surely did keep moving. For many years I had
heard of Hampton Insititue and how Booker T.
Washington had made his way there with bare feet
from his birthplace in Virginia. And so, I got it in
my mind that I wanted to attend this great educa
tional center. I simply wrote the principal of the
institute stating that I wanted to enter Hampton as
a student, but was without finance. I also stated
that I would arrive there in a few days. I didn't
wait for a reply. When I did arrive on the campus,
my feet were not bare, but my financial standing
was just about the same as that of Booker T.
Washington who had entered there many years
before that time.
It was late in the afternoon when I arrived on
the campus. I was ushered to the office of Major
Robert R. Moton, who was then commandant.
Major Moton talked with me long enough to find
out that I was without finance, but full of ambition.
He finally called the office of the vice-president,
Dr. George P. Pheonix, who in later years became
President of the institution. In talking with Dr.
Pheonix, Major Moton stated that he had a young
man in his office who had come to enter Hampton
Institute, without means, but who seemed to be in
earnest. At that statement, Dr. Pheonix said,
"Send him over to my office." I also succeeded in
convincing Dr. Pheonix that I was in earnest, for
he told me that he would accept me as a student,
and I was assigned to work in the bakery with the
privilege of attending night classes.
Continued Next Week
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