Oral History Interview with Helen Fisher Frye, July 28, 2000

BETSY BRINSON: Today is July 28, year 2000. This is the second interview with Helen Fisher Frye. We are doing the interview at her residence in Danville, Kentucky, and the interviewer is Betsy Brinson. Well, thank you, Miss Frye, for talking with me again. Uh, it’s been—I believe we talked—we did the first interview in January of 1999 and, of course, then you were one of our featured speakers at the Civil Rights Symposium this past February. And we have been asked if we’d come back and talk with you today about your experiences at the University of Kentucky; but also I have some other things I want to talk with you about. Does that sound okay with you?

HELEN FISHER FRYE: That’s fine.

BRINSON: Okay. Let’s, let’s begin—as I recall, from the interview that we did previously, you did your undergraduate work at Kentucky State University . . .

FRYE: Correct. That’s correct.

BRINSON: . . . and then you, uh, you eventually came back to be teaching at the Bate School here, which was the all-black school.

FRYE: Correct.

BRINSON: And at what point—now, I know also you have--I believe I’m correct--you have Masters degree from Indiana University; and you also did some graduate work in school administration at Ohio State.

FRYE: That’s right.

BRINSON: And then you did some—you have a Masters from the University of Kentucky. Am I correct?

FRYE: That’s right.

BRINSON: I want to start though—when did you first think about doing graduate work?

FRYE: Uh, I finished Kentucky State in 1942. And I suppose about 1945 the wife of the local segregated Bate School, where I was teaching at the time, uh, the wife was not a teacher, her husband was the principal. And, uh . . . [someone in background speaks]

BRINSON: You got distracted.

FRYE: Uh, we were at a meeting here in Danville and the wife said to me, “When are you going to begin doing graduate work?” And I said, “I really hadn’t thought of it.” And she said, “Well, I’d like for you to get started.” And I had one of my favorite teachers in high school who had attended Indiana University—she was one whom I admired very much, still a friend of mine living in Washington. And so I decided I would follow her and go to Indiana University. A former principal made the statement to me, “Why would you go to Indiana University? Don’t you know Indiana is the most segregated, one of the most segregated, discriminating states; that the KKK is rampant in Indiana?” Well, I did not know that. But I decided to follow through with my thinking, and I went to Indiana University. And I think some of the happiest days of my life were spent on the campus at Indiana University. I was really happy there.

BRINSON: Now, did you go during the summers or did you take a break from school altogether and go full time?

FRYE: I went during the summer. But during the school year, I once per week commuted to Jeffersonville, Indiana to the Extension and took classes. And I was able to complete my masters work with two summers and the one year of commuting. So, uh, that was how I decided to start my graduate work.

BRINSON: Did you think at that time about applying to the University of Kentucky at all?

FRYE: No. No. The state of Kentucky had, uh, I guess you’d call them scholarships or funds for Kentucky students because they were not—according to the Day Law—were not permitted to attend any Kentucky school, undergraduate, graduate, college, grade school, nothing. The Day Law.

BRINSON: Okay. And really until 1949 the University of Kentucky on its campus would have been closed to anyone of color.

FRYE: Correct.

BRINSON: But how about the correspondence program at that point?

FRYE: I took one correspondence course in my life. A course in—from University of Kentucky and I don’t remember the year—a course in French. But I, I don’t care for correspondence courses. I like to be—I like the classroom environment. And, uh . . .

BRINSON: Do you think you would have taken that French course though before 1949?

FRYE: I believe I took that course once I had sought entrance to the University of Kentucky, and I did not seek it prior to 1949.

BRINSON: So you, you received your Masters degree at, from Indiana University. Tell me about your, uh, education with Ohio State University.

FRYE: Once I had had such a beautiful experience on Indiana University campus, uh, then going to Ohio State, uh, I was a little bit let down. Ohio State is, is a little aloof. And, uh, Indiana University was concerned with the, with the whole individual, the whole personality, well-rounded personality. And they provided all types of activity, recreational, uh, uh, activities, social activities, uh, and the arts; and really a well-rounded program. But Ohio State purely academic. When class was over, there was nothing for you to do and you had to make your own life. So I didn’t—and I guess I’m a very social person. I’m a very private person with my own life, but there is that aspect of my personality. I like people and I didn’t—I had good instructors there. One of the best instructors I had, and he was a wonderful person as an individual; but it’s just the campus as a whole had that icy, aloof atmosphere that I didn’t care for.

BRINSON: Well, again now, were you there during the summer?

FRYE: That was during the summer. I did all of my work during the summer, uh, and except the commuting to Indiana University. I didn’t--at no time did I take, uh, a leave to attend full year.

BRINSON: And what were you studying at Ohio State?

FRYE: At Ohio State? I was studying, uh, school administration.

BRINSON: Is that something that you hadn’t, uh, studied at Indiana University, because you did a Masters in Education there too, I believe.

FRYE: I did my masters in, in secondary education. I had elementary education at Kentucky State and secondary education at—I got the idea from the original Bate School principal, Professor John Bate. He had a son who was one of the early African Americans to get a doctorate degree--and I’ve forgotten from what school he received it—but at one time Professor Bate made the statement that his son had broadened his education in a horizontal manner rather than a vertical manner. ( ) going straight up for his doctorate, he broadened it into areas, and so I liked that idea. I’d rather know a little bit about a lot of things than think I was a Doctorate in anything. So that’s the reason I took, uh, secondary education at Indiana U. But the reason I took administration at Ohio State, I had been asked to take the principalship at Stanford, Kentucky, ten miles away. I really wasn’t interested but I thought that, well, it would good to be prepared just in case something came up in which I was interested. So, I—that’s why I took the administration, and I became certified with the state of Kentucky through that work.

BRINSON: How many courses did it, uh, were you required to take for certification? Do you remember?

FRYE: I don’t fully remember. Of course, in elementary education at Kentucky State there are some courses in administration at the elementary level. Uh, I did not have any courses per se in administration at Indiana U. Uh, I probably took three courses, which would have been nine or ten hours, at Ohio State and, with what I already had, I was able to certify.

BRINSON: Okay. At what point did you begin to think about doing more graduate work at the University of Kentucky?

FRYE: Well, the seed for my work at University of Kentucky, the seed was sown really at Indiana University. Uh, when the Minimum Foundation Program came into being in the state of Kentucky--I think that was under Mr. Bert Combs, Governor Combs. I’m not sure on that, but when that program came into being--the Minimum Foundation--which gave uniform structure to teacher salaries, simplified; uh, there were about four levels I think. At that point, I already had my Masters degree which gave me—and under the minimum foundation, I think, the top pay. And I never worked for money. I worked for information and knowledge. I turned down several summer school jobs, working on the playground, whatever, uh, because I said I’d rather have my free time to participate in whatever activities I would like than to make money and not have time and get involved. So I, uh, took schoolwork instead of working to make money. However, when the Minimum Foundation came in, I think I was thirteen hours short of being at the top level, which would have given me the top pay. And that’s the only time I ever worked for money really, truly. Uh, I took a pre-session at Indiana University in librarianship. I took the regular summer courses in librarianship, and I took the post-session in librarianship. And so earning those hours qualified me to be in the top, uh, level.

BRINSON: Let me stop here. Those courses in library science were over and above or—your masters degree.

FRYE: Right.

BRINSON: So you went back and did more work at Indiana University . . .

FRYE: Right.

BRINSON: . . . to, to do these thirteen courses that would put you at the top . . .

FRYE: Thirteen hours.

BRINSON: Thirteen hours. Okay. You said Governor Combs, that the Foundation you think, that would have been late fifties, early sixties. Does that sound about right to you?

FRYE: That sounds about right. I’m, I’m not—[laughing] my husband can tell you the year anything happened, and I can’t tell you the year anything happened. Uh . . .

BRINSON: You had to go back how many summers to do . . . ?

FRYE: I did it all in one summer.

BRINSON: One summer. Okay.

FRYE: As I said, I did the pre-session, which was a two-week course before regular summer school. Then I did the regular, what?, six weeks summer school? Whatever regular summer school is. And then I did the post-session, which was another two-week course. And I earned the necessary hours to be in the top, uh, pay scale. And in the Danville system there were only three teachers, three persons who qualified for the top level. That was the, uh, Superintendent of Schools, there was a teacher at one of the white elementary schools, Ida Campell, and myself. We were the three people in Danville who were at the top pay scale. But it was right there, and all I had to do was spend the summer and do it. So I just did it.

BRINSON: So, so were you thinking at that point about applying to the University of Kentucky? How did that come about?

FRYE: All right. For the University of Kentucky: uh, my first experience with the University of Kentucky was an extension class, which our Superintendent of Schools had held here in Danville for Danville teachers. Now this was prior to the integration; schools were still segregated. But it was an extension class here for Danville teachers and our Superintendent assumed that his teachers could attend. I attended the first class, as did others. On the second—before the second class session, the University of Kentucky notified the Danville superintendent that—I, I think I’m a little bit, I’ve gone wrong in what I’ve said because this was after the law that universities could be integrated, because they had interpreted it.

BRINSON: That would have been in 1949.

FRYE: Uh-huh.

BRINSON: The University of Kentucky, in a lawsuit that Lyman Johnson brought, opened up the Graduate School Program for attendance on campus. Now, I don’t know about Extension Division.

FRYE: Well, this was immediately after that interpretation. And the University interpreted it that African Americans [phone rings] could attend [interruption]--the University interpreted it that African Americans could attend classes on campus but could not attend classes off campus, which seemed ridiculous. If they were going to do anything, they would integrate us off campus and not on campus. But . . .

BRINSON: Do, do you have any recollection of why they did that?

FRYE: Just retaining, maintaining, holding on to segregation any way they could. That’s the way I regarded it. So before the second class session, they informed our Superintendent that African-Americans could not attend because of their interpretation, and that I could not attend the class. Uh, the superintendent would not let them notify me. He told them, “I will notify her. I will not let you come to the school and notify her.” So he came to, to the school, and they called me from my classroom, and he told me that I could no longer attend the class.

BRINSON: You were the only black teacher in that course?

FRYE: In that class, uh-huh. There were two others from an adjacent county but not from Danville. I, uh, of course, I had no recourse. All I could do was to, to drop out. But—and they said above and beyond their interpretation, that I had not formally been accepted because everyone in the class applied for admission; everyone who had not already done work at UK and there were others. Uh, we all wrote, filled in our applications the same night, the first night. And so the, the whites who applied at the same time as I, could continue in the course; but I, as an African American, could not continue with the course because I was African-American and their interpretation.

BRINSON: But they told you the reason was because your application wasn’t complete.

FRYE: That was one of the two reasons. Because they interpreted it to mean we could only attend on campus, and because my application was not—I had not formally been accepted. Uh, I could not get any of those individuals, any of the white individuals, to testify to the fact that they too applied at the same time on the first night. Of course, nobody wanted to put them--themselves on the line at that time; and I did seek legal advice but I decided not to pursue it, the legal recourse. It was written up in the Louisville Defender, an African-American newspaper; nothing was ever in the Courier. So, with that, I could not attend the University of Kentucky. Uh, near the end of nineteen, uh, of the nineteen and fifties--maybe fifty-six or something--and after I had taken this course in library science, I really decided the library is where I want to be. I want to be with the books where I can read. And I just loved it because I, I kept my sixth grade—I was a sixth-grade teacher at that point—I kept my students doing reference work in the library. And then after school I would often go down and spend extra time in the afternoon there in the library. So I just loved it. And there were rumblings about the integration, and in many places where they were integrated, (laughing) African Americans were integrated out of the schools. And many of them were going into the libraries. They put a lot of African-American teachers in the library. And I just decided, “Well, I like it and so I’m going to go for a degree. And at least I can remain here at home and have a job in the library.” So that was my motivation for going on in—plus these courses that I took at Indiana University, uh, I, uh—it was just such a wonderful course and they--every day they had different national and international literary personalities. One would fly in for a breakfast session, another one for a lunch session, another one—and you just got to meet more of the outstanding authors and, uh, illustrators. And I just was so fascinated with the course that that was more reason why I wanted to go into library science. So I decided to go on . . . am I talking too much?

BRINSON: That’s fine. No, you’re doing good.

FRYE: (laughing) Uh, to go on—I said, “Well, I’m going to the University of Kentucky and see what they do with me.” So I enrolled and was accepted and I took courses. The first summer, I commuted from Danville which was horrible. Getting up at five o’clock and going over there and then waiting--uh, I, I don’t know why I was riding with someone else because I was driving at that time. But I rode with another person, which extended my time waiting for them, whenever they were ready. And I said, “I’ll never commute again.” So the second summer I decided to stay on the campus. And they put me in Jewell Hall. And they put me in a little room back behind—I don’t know whether it was the furnace or the hot water heater room, but I know I had to pass this heating room to get back to the little room where they put me as a dormitory . . .

BRINSON: As a dormitory.

FRYE: . . . accommodation. And it was hot as blazes but I endured it. I stayed out of it as much as I could. Only to sleep and dress, and the rest of the time I stayed in the library or someplace else. But . . .

BRINSON: Now was your room in Jewell Hall any different than the rooms that the white students stayed in?

FRYE: Well, no white student was back behind this little heater, furnace room. And I don’t know that there was another African American staying on the campus. I guess I was stupid for doing it but (laughing) but I, I stayed there and endured it.

BRINSON: How, how were the other people in the dormitory? How did they treat you?

FRYE: Oh, they didn’t know I was there. There was no contact between them and me. They just didn’t know I was there. And, of course, summer school—each one is—there’s more independence than there is in regular school anyway. Uh . . .

BRINSON: How about your classes?

FRYE: The classes . . .

BRINSON: You were taking classes in library science?

FRYE: In library science. And, let’s see, I can recall Miss Martin was head of the library science department at that time. There was an elderly lady, Miss Waford, who was a teacher. There was a Miss Letcher . . .

BRINSON: I’m going to ask you to stop so I can turn the tape over, please.

END OF TAPE ONE SIDE ONE

BEGIN TAPE ONE SIDE TWO

FRYE: . . . three instructors that I can remember. Miss Waford, the elderly lady, she—I was just another individual in her class, and I had no complaints about her class whatsoever. But Miss Martin and Miss—I’m saying Letcher and doesn’t sound exactly right—they showed their prejudice one way or another. I mean, it was just perfectly obvious in instructing and questioning and so forth. They would come down the row asking questions and when they would get to me, they would skip over me and ask the next person. It was, it was very obvious but I, I, I guess I expected it. I knew it wouldn’t be a rose garden and I didn’t complain. I just went right on and did my work. I made acceptable grades. There was no question about my grades. But, uh, in the classroom situation, I was discriminated against. For instance, uh—of course, I was going for a Masters degree in Library Science, and I had to take a course in Test and Measurements for masters. And that was under Miss Letcher. And I had had Tests and Measurements at Indiana U. to get that masters degree. Of course, I had had to give my transcript to the University of Kentucky for everything I had had elsewhere and they, they knew I had had Tests and Measurements. And I took this course. And somewhere down the line Miss Letcher said to me, “I didn’t know you had tests and measurements. You should not have had to repeat that.” And she was the one who required it of me. So I had had the same course twice, once at Indiana and once, repeat at University of Kentucky. Just little petty, discriminatory acts. Uh, I completed all of my class work and was to take orals before I could qualify for graduation. And I just decided; not going to take the orals. They gave me credit for my class work, and I earned it; but taking orals is such a subjective experience. They can fail me; they can do anything they want to do. And I’m not—I’m through. I’ve taken my coursework and that’s all that I needed. And, uh—I didn’t need a degree to, to get a job, just the coursework. So I stopped. They, uh, wrote me asking me when would I like to take my orals and I didn’t even answer. I had no contact with them, going from me to them. They wrote me several times. Then they wrote and said, “We have . . .. If one wants an extension of time, one has to request it.” I didn’t request it. They wrote me that they had automatically extended my time. I didn’t respond. And I went, I don’t know, a year or a year and a half and, uh, the, uh, YWCA was having a reception on UK campus. And two Danville citizens, two white ladies--I, I’ve been well accepted in Danville all of my life, no problems in Danville--and these two white ladies asked me to accompany them to this YWCA, uh, reception and whatever at UK. At the reception was the head of the department of library science. It was different from Miss Martin, who was head of the department when I first started. They had a changeover. And I, I—he was a very nice person, and I had a feeling he was going to say something to me; and so I avoided him in the crowd. I avoided him. I would see him coming in my direction, and I would go in another direction. He finally walked up behind me (laughing) and he said, “You’ve been avoiding me.” I said, “Yes.” And he said, “When are you coming to take your orals?” I said, “Never.” And he, of course, said, “Why?” I told him that I had been discriminated against throughout the time and I knew they could fail me—because people do fail their orals—and I said it’s such a subjective thing and I’m not going to let that happen to me; so I’m not going to take them. And, uh, so I don’t know how long, how much longer I waited then I decided—I guess I grew up a little bit, matured a little bit—and I said, “I’m going over there and let them fail me.” So I contacted them and made the appointment and went over and went through the orals. And, of course, after it’s over you go out while they decide what you’re fate will be. And that’s the first time I broke down—sitting out there waiting—I just broke down and cried, and I started to leave. I was ready to leave, and when they’d come out, I would be gone. But I decided no, my better judgement. And, of course, they came out, asked--when I went in, these very people who had skipped over me and so forth were hugging me, congratulating me. To me that was a lot of hypocrisy but I accepted it, and, uh, went on and received it. I said, “I’ve gone this far so I’m going to march.” And I did the whole nine yards.

BRINSON: So you went through the graduation ceremony?

FRYE: I did.

BRINSON: And do you remember what year that might . . . ?

FRYE: I believe that was nineteen and sixty.

BRINSON: Okay.

FRYE: Uh, I guess I don’t . . .

BRINSON: Were there any other students of color in the library science courses when you were taking them?

FRYE: Yes, there were, there were a few, very few. I know one—excuse me—one from, one lady from Lexington whom I knew who was working at that time. And she did not begin as early as I did. When she got ready to do her orals, she said, “Please let me have your notes.” All my classroom notes and, uh, I—and I remember one other young person who was younger than I, but I don’t remember any—I had no contact with any—I had very little contact—of course, there weren’t too many at that point who were going and fewer still in library science because most of them were in education. So I didn’t come in contact with too many African-Americans.

BRINSON: Have you had opportunity to stay in touch with the program in any way over the years to sort of see how, if there have been any changes or . . . ?

FRYE: Not really. Not really. I went to a few programs and seminars in the early years, but I did not keep contact with them.

BRINSON: Okay. Did you become a librarian after that?

FRYE: Yes, yes. I—before integration, I came out of the classroom and went into the library. I, I was teaching sixth grade and I loved teaching and I loved the children. I loved the activities but my philosophy is: to properly evaluate, you have to have a lot of written work. And there are more classes, more texts, more areas in the sixth grade than at any other level, I think, in school. I mean, you have book in democracy and, uh, besides all of the basics. And, of course, there was geography and special spelling. I guess you had eight or nine different subjects, and even in spelling you have written work. And in English, in social studies, geography and history and, uh, everything. And I got so tired of grading papers every night; and if you don’t grade them and give them back, it’s an injustice. And I burned out. I really burned out grading papers. And that was one of the reasons I came—but I, I was sort of, was defeated going into library science. I thought now I can read, read, read. [chuckle—Brinson] But instead it was processing books and counting cards. And, of course, it was a twelve-grade school at that point and, uh, with twelve grades and some, at some levels there were two classrooms, like first grade; you had two first grades or something like that. So I really didn’t get to read, read, read as much as I would liked to have. But it was more stimulating, it was more satisfying. And even going to the library meetings throughout the year was just wonderful, and I’ve never regretted that I went into library science.

BRINSON: So in, in the early years of--after you got your degree, there was a State Library Association, and there were meetings. Talk about that a little bit. You said, “Going to the library meetings.” Were those statewide meetings or . . . ?

FRYE: I, I have no knowledge of the organization at this point. I know I see very little in print about it but I probably miss it. But we had a district, Central Kentucky Education Association, which met each October. I don’t know whether that’s still in existence or not, because it came to the point where the teachers didn’t want to attend and it came to the point that they didn’t have to attend. So I don’t know what the situation is now. But at, at the point when I was there, we--school was out and you had to attend. Then it came to the point, if you did not want to attend, you could stay at the building and do work, plan and so forth. But I always attended. At the, uh, district level, I finally became Chairman of the Library--Librarians section. First I was secretary and then I became chairman.

BRINSON: Now, at that point was it an all-black group?

FRYE: No, no, no. It was integrated. It was integrated. Uh, I guess I opened my mouth when I should keep it closed. [laughter] So I served in that capacity. Then at the State Librarian Association which, uh, ways, was at Louisville . . .

BRINSON: That’s thunder.

FRYE: Great. Uh, I was secretary of state KLA, Kentucky Library Association. I was secretary of that. And I attended and kept up with meetings for some while even after I retired, then I finally just . . . so I really—as I say, I don’t know whether those organizations—I don’t know the status now.

BRINSON: Have you, uh, been active in the UK alumni association in any way?

FRYE: No. I had membership a few times, but active?, no.

BRINSON: Did you go to any events that they held?

FRYE: Uh, there is a local and I have been—the local, I think, maybe meets twice per year. And I went to one or two meetings of the local, but to be active, no. Last year in August the University of Kentucky had a program observing the integration of all—I suppose of all students; I don’t know whether it was of that period or what—but they were invited back. And Desmond Tutu was the speaker and, uh, so I attended that. Very nice meeting, big program over in, uh . . . it’s the girl’s gymnasium.

BRINSON: Memorial Coliseum.

FRYE: Uh-hmm. Is that Memorial? The old gymnasium.

BRINSON: I’m not sure. That’s where Bishop Tutu spoke at Memorial, as I know it.

FRYE: Memorial Auditorium. Well, that . . .

BRINSON: In the Coliseum. Like it’s a big . . .

FRYE: Coliseum. It’s called coliseum. Uh-huh. And I attended that. I can’t put my finger on it, but I had a picture made with Desmond Tutu. And, uh, the, the Danville Advocate has always been receptive to my concerns. And whenever I want to get anything in the paper, I have no trouble getting it in when I want it, where I want it and so forth. And so I took that picture, myself and Desmond Tutu, and they put it in the Danville paper. Uh, but that’s the extent to my contact with UK.

BRINSON: Okay.

FRYE: Now, they do have this organization, uh, of African-American graduates, I suppose. And they have written me when they have their observance at Homecoming. They have—African-Americans have a separate observance from what the college has; but I’ve never participated in any it. I, I believe in the Fatherhood of God, the Brotherhood of Man, and I am an integrationist. I don’t want to be white; I don’t want to be any fairer skinned African-American than I am. That is a problem with African Americans, you know, the color; the light skinned against the dark skinned. But I’ve been pleased with who I am and what I am. But I just feel if it’s the university observance of homecoming or anything else, they should all be together. ‘Course now some of the activities have a, a purpose and I probably should participate more than I do, but I just don’t.

BRINSON: Okay. I want to go back and ask you, uh, when the schools in Danville were integrated—‘course we had the Supreme Court decision, the Brown decision, in fifty-four, and then the implementation decision the next year--but how long did it take before integration actually happened here and how did it happen?

FRYE: The Chairman of the Board of Education at that time--I suppose early on when the decision was made--was Rector Newland of the Episcopal Church. He was Chairman of the Board.

BRINSON: Rektan?

FRYE: Rector. I think you call the minister . . .

BRINSON: Oh, Rector. Right. Rector Newland.

FRYE: Uh-huh.

BRINSON: Okay. Right.

FRYE: And he was, he was, I will say, a very broad-minded, Christian man. And I don’t know how I—well, one thing, I get into so many activities that--if something is going on and it’s in Danville or Louisville or wherever, and I have a concern or an interest in whatever it is; if I’m going to learn about it, I go. I go alone anywhere I want to go, if there’s something I want to learn. So, uh, something’s going on at one of the churches, and it’s in the paper, and I think I’d like to hear it, I just go and always have. So somehow I became very—Rector Newland, his wife and I were very friendly. And when he was having a special activity at his church, he would call and tell me. And there have been times when he and his wife have come to my home and gotten me and taken me to the church. I know one time my mother was ill, and they were having a laying on of hands--and so he knew my mother was ill--I don't know why, and he came for me to go to that service as a strengthening experience.

BRINSON: So he was the Chair of the School Board at the time of integration?

FRYE: At the time . . . and there were a series of meetings in Danville for the public to get their input. And there was opposition but there were no demonstrations of any kind, and there was no confron-, there were no confrontations or anything. But he worked diligently with it and with the public. They had several different approaches to integration. They—I think the first one was any high school student who wanted to go from Bate, the African-American school, to the Danville High School could go. It was just voluntary.

BRINSON: And could go for the full course, not just a selected . . . ?

FRYE: Right. They could enroll there.

BRINSON: Full time.

FRYE: Full time, uh-huh. And we had some who did at the very beginning, who enrolled and who graduated from Danville High School. I don’t know how long—they continued that; they never did discontinue it. Once they opened, anyone could go, could attend.

BRINSON: And you think they did that fairly soon after the Supreme Court decision?

FRYE: Yes. Yes. Yes.

BRINSON: Okay.

FRYE: Then after a few years, a different approach was used. In addition to the high school, they started with the elementary grades, integrating starting with first—I think it was first, second and third; and then fourth, fifth and sixth. And once they were integrated, that was it. They were cut out at the Bate School. Those grades were eliminated and they were integrated. And it was through—and it ended up with--all of the high school was gone and the first, second and third were gone and finally in 1964, I think, they integrated the entire Danville system. And, uh . . .

BRINSON: What happened to the actual, physical Bate School?

FRYE: School. Well, when—in sixty-four when they integrated all the schools, they turned the Bate building into the city middle school. And that building remained the Bate Middle School for, uh, a good ten years; and then they decided to build a totally new plant on the same location. So they built a new building farther back—I don’t know whether you know where the school is now . . .

BRINSON: No.

FRYE: . . . on Stanford Road. So they built a new plant behind the original school. And once it was completed, the move was made to the new building and the old building was razed. That old building was first--the first original eight rooms were built in 1912, and then there were two additions made to it. One, I think, was about 19 and 29 and then the other one was later. I’ve forgotten the year, but it was not a bad structure.

BRINSON: In some communities today even, the students who attended the all-black school still get together occasionally with families. They have reunions and sometimes they have them in their hometown, and sometimes they have them all over the country. Is there anything like that here in the Danville . . .

FRYE: Yes.

BRINSON: . . . school system?

FRYE: Bate School’s former students decided to form an alumni association for the high school and they did. At first they met every three years, I think, and then they decided to meet every two years. And there’s a controversy: they still want to keep it for the high school. This year they’re finding out more than ever that the numbers are dwindling. There just aren’t any more. And there is the sentiment that they would like it for any person who attended Bate School, And, of course, the time’s going to come, that will be over. In the meantime, there was a group of whites who wanted to organize a alumni association for all Danville school, high school graduates. So that would take in all Danville High School graduates from zero till now, and all Bate School graduates from zero till now. And I worked with the formation of that organization. And they had a meeting, I think it was last weekend; and I was to have been in it but, of course, I couldn’t participate . . .

BRINSON: Because you’ve broken your, your leg recently.

FRYE: And I worked with the formation and organization of it. Then the Bate School alumni group will meet the fourth and fifth, I think it is, of August coming up.

BRINSON: I imagine a lot of those people who attended Bate School live outside of Danville at this point in time.

FRYE: Absolutely. It has been well attended, beautifully executed, well organized. It’s been a beautiful experience. But, now, at the time that I finished Bate School in 1938, finished high school, at that point our class was the largest class that had graduated. After that time there were . . .

BRINSON: That was how many people? How many people in your graduating class?

FRYE: About—I think it was twenty-nine or thirty, but there were larger classes after that point. Uh, but right now as we try to count, there are only four persons out of our class who are living.

BRINSON: Let me ask you, Miss Frye, in your years as both a student and a teacher in the all-black school; how much black history do you think you were introduced to by your teachers?

FRYE: I don’t know at what level, uh, what grade that I first became aware of black history--Afri-, uh, Negro history we called it.

BRINSON: Right.

FRYE: And we had the Negro History Week originally and then it expanded to the month of February. Uh, but the most in-depth study of African-American history that I got at Bate School was in the seventh and eighth grade. We had a teacher in Mrs. Melinda Doneghy.

BRINSON: Can you spell Doneghy for me?

FRYE: D-O-N-E-G-H-Y.

BRINSON: Okay.

FRYE: Melinda. Uh, she was the best informed and the most stimulating, inspiring, motivating teacher I ever had. She inspired me. Of course, I got my first inspiration to look, to know, to learn, to study, to be aggressive at home from my mother.

BRINSON: Did your parents ever teach you any Negro history?

FRYE: No, no.

BRINSON: They taught you . . .

END OF TAPE ONE SIDE TWO

BEGIN TAPE TWO SIDE ONE

FRYE: My memory and introduction to Negro history was really at that seventh and eighth grade level, so not only did I not get it at home; wasn’t getting it anyplace. Uh, so, to me Negro history was from the nineteen and thirty-- I’d say four on--is when I first became aware of Negro history.

BRINSON: Do you remember—and I know this is hard to think back to all of that—but do you remember what, what topics were taught in Negro history? What people did you learn about? Was it all Negro history in America or did it go back to Africa?

FRYE: Did not go back to Africa. It was, uh, in the, the current at that time and the immediate past, but it did not go back to Africa. Well, even in our regular history book there might have been a—not a chapter, but a few sentences about slavery in America; but not a chapter, and we did not get too much on slavery. Well, I won’t go into that--something else I was going to say about; but I won’t take time. But we didn’t get in-depth on individuals; it was more a listing and enumeration of African Americans who had made contributions, and what contribution they made.

BRINSON: Do you remember any of them that you learned about then?

FRYE: Oh, I—of course, there was Harriet Tubman and, uh, Crispus Attucks and, uh . . .

BRINSON: Probably Booker T. Washington.

FRYE: Oh yes, Booker T. Washington and Frederick Douglass and, oh . . .

BRINSON: Okay. When the schools became integrated and, and black children moved into predominantly white school systems, teachers and whatnot; what happened to the teaching of black history in the beginning?

FRYE: Of course, I was not in the classroom . . . and I was at Bate School. I remained at Bate School even with the new building and there were always African American . . .

BRINSON: We’re having quite a storm here, uh, with lightning and thunder, if you, if the transcriber hears that.

FRYE: Does the weather bother you? Does lightning and thunder bother you?

BRINSON: No. It’s a little close though right now. Are you okay?

FRYE: Shall I draw the shades?

BRINSON: No. Are you okay?

FRYE: I’m all right. Let’s see, where was I?

BRINSON: We were talking about after integration to what degree . . .

FRYE: Oh, the teaching of . . .uh-huh . . .

BRINSON: . . . in the beginning at least, was black history . . . ?

FRYE: At Bate School—and I suppose those teachers who were in the white, former white schools carried it with them, because there were always African-American teachers in the social studies at the high school. And so they taught in their classes voluntarily; there was nothing mandatory about it. Now at the middle-school level--and I was librarian--I was asked by my principal to teach a two-week course. At the middle school they had lots of two-week courses and four-week courses and . . . so I was asked to teach a course in African-American history, uh, at the middle-school level.

BRINSON: Teaching to the students.

FRYE: To the students. Teaching to the students. On a volun—the students came, enrolled on a voluntary basis. I hate to tell you this (laughing) but I really had more white students to enroll in the course than I did African-American students. Of course, I guess percentage-wise, uh, it was about equal. But I would have—I did expect more of the African-American students, uh . . .

BRINSON: This would have been in the sixties?

FRYE: Yes, yes, uh-huh. ‘Cause it was integrated in sixty-four so this was in the sixties and seventies. I retired in eighty, so it was in the sixties and seventies.

BRINSON: When you got ready to teach the course, did you—where did you go for resources? Did you feel like there was enough information out there for you to, to teacher the course or . . .

FRYE: Yes, I did not go—of course, none of the colleges at that point were teaching classes in African-American history. They later established courses—I don’t, I think some of them maybe have—I don’t think any have a degree in it. Uh, but I had resources there in the library. We had, uh, some material on it, so I had resources. And at that time, bookstores were bringing material on and I bought material. The newspapers. And then there were African-American publications, Ebony magazine and other publications. So I had enough material for this middle-school level.

BRINSON: Okay. Well, I think that’s about all that I knew ahead of time that I wanted to ask you. Is there anything you want to add?

FRYE: I can’t think of anything at this point, of anything that I would like to add.

BRINSON: Have you continued your interest in African-American history?

FRYE: Not as much so as I would like to have.

BRINSON: Of course, you served on the African American Heritage Commission.

FRYE: Right. Right. And I’ve been involved in so many community activities here in Danville. For instance, I was chairman of the public housing . . .

BRINSON: Right. I remember . . .

FRYE: . . . here in Danville . . .

BRINSON: . . . we talked about that . . .

FRYE: . . . and I still stay involved in whatever goes on at city hall, I go to city . . . participate.

BRINSON: I remember when we talked in January of ninety-nine you were working on a preservation project of some sort then.

FRYE: I, I would like for you to—I would like—whenever you’re in Danville, and if I weren’t in a cast . . .

BRINSON: And the weather weren’t like this.

FRYE: Yes, and the weather. I would like to take you and show you this house that we’re restoring. This house, we think, is the oldest house built by an African American. He was, he was an indentured slave and before 1845 he built this house, and it stayed in his family line from that time till 1929. And then a former high school teacher at the Bate School—I think she was the first teacher hired when Professor John Bate came to Danville from Louisville and organized the first public school for African Americans in Danville. And she was the first teacher he hired, I think, and her father was a Methodist minister. And they bought this Dormsley house and they were the second owners of it; and she lived in that house until nineteen--I think it was nineteen and ninety--or ninety something. And she was getting ready to go to Sunday School on Sunday morning, a hundred and four years old, and died there in the house. And we had an organization, really two organizations of Negro women’s clubs, and had had houses--what they call their federation homes here in Danville--and for reasons, economic basically, they had bought one, sold another and had had three different houses. And at that point the one that we had was inadequate so they bought the Dormsley house and restored it. So it’s—but the organization itself is about to fall apart, and I don’t know what’s going to happen to the house. But it’s there . . .

BRINSON: Is anybody living in the house?

FRYE: No. No. It’s just—we, we have an apartment upstairs, which we hoped to rent as sort of a caretaker. But if you don’t know about rental property, you have to be more than selective in whom you put in it. And since this is historical as well as rental, we have to be more than careful. And we just haven’t found anyone that wants to move into it under our requirements and so forth. So it’s there. We meet—we have meetings there once or twice per month. But I’d love for you to see it.

BRINSON: Well, I’d love to. Tell me, tell me what the women’s organizations, the names of them that worked on this.

FRYE: There are two women’s clubs. The older of the two was organized in eighteen and ninety-eight. We observed our hundredth anniversary year before last.

BRINSON: And the name?

FRYE: It’s called The Domestic Economy Club, organized by our foreparents in eighteen and ninety-eight. And there it just was, economy in the home. I think—and they met from home to home. That was their social life cause there were no places out for social life, so meeting at that club once per month was a big thing in their lives. And they were to entertain on the maximum of $1.00 per meeting (laughter). Iced tea and homemade cookies or something.

BRINSON: Now this was purely a local organization?

FRYE: Yes. Yes. The Domestic Economy was purely local.

BRINSON: Right.

FRYE: But early over into the--what?--twentieth century, uh, they, along with—and communities, towns, cities all over, not just the state, the nation, the African-American women had these clubs. And, of course . . .

BRINSON: Were they usually called Domestic Economy clubs?

FRYE: No. Each one . . .

BRINSON: Had a different name.

FRYE: . . . chose its own name. In—early in the twentieth century, there was another one formed and they were called The Busy Sunshine Club. So those are the two and they joined together—basically, they were social. That was their social life with some limited civic interest. Then these two local clubs joined together in the Federation of Women’s Clubs here in Danville, and it was under this Federation of Women’s Clubs that we bought this house. And they did a lot more then than we’re doing now. The African-American funeral home here in Danville is now in the first house that the Federation owned. It was a former, big—I guess you’d—they were farmers then—big, huge, big brick mansion. And at some point the Federation was able to buy it; those women worked and were able to buy it. And in that building—and that was back in the early twentieth century—they formed together to do humanitarian work. Social was not just enough. And they formed what they called an old folks home; and in that house they took in ill, older, elderly African Americans who had no place to go. And someone—I don’t know who brought me a record book from the early history, a, a secretary’s book that was found--this person said it came out of the courthouse in Stanford. And we just don’t know how it got there, but that book gives a lot of the history. And early in this old folks home, the county court gave to that home, I think it was between $10-15 per month for each person. So they were doing a lot more then than they’re doing now. But now that our young people--they can go anyplace they want to, they can do anything they want to. Their government has taken care of the elderly and the dying and all that. We can’t get enough young people interested enough to keep it going.

BRINSON: Right. Well next time I come to visit maybe you’ll be up and about at that point, and I’d love to see the house.

FRYE: I want you to see it before something happens, because I don’t know how we’re going to maintain it. I mean, the young people just are—they’re just out of the organization. They’re doing nothing.

BRINSON: Well thank you very much. [interruption]

FRYE: One other project that we have had here in Danville prior to the restoration of the Dormsley house that I just talked about, uh--there is in Danville a log cabin. It was a residence of a, a rental residence of one of the Danville citizens, and when urban renewal came through that area, they were going to raze that house. Cecil Duland Wallace, who was a historian known statewide and nationwide, who died a little over a year or two ago and left . . . was deeply involved in restoration statewide, the Perryville project and much in the state of Kentucky . . .

BRINSON: The Perryville project?

FRYE: Yes, uh-huh. The restoration of Perryville and the Perryville battlefield and so forth. She discovered that this house was a log cabin in this urban renewal area. And she called a group of African Americans together, and we formed an organization for the restoration of the house. She dug into the history and found that a Civil War—let me see, was it Civil or was it Revolutionary? I believe it was Revolutionary War, Captain Craddock . . .

BRINSON: Craddock? C-R-A-D

FRYE: D-D-O-C-K, I think, uh, had built this house for himself and he had houses, property, I think in Bowling Green and one or two other areas in central Kentucky . . .

BRINSON: Now he was white or black?

FRYE: He was white. A white Revolutionary War captain and he was a slaveholder. Excuse me. And when he died, he willed this house here in Danville to one of his slaves, uh, Willis Russell, a slave. The log cabin was a two-story house, which at that time was sort of a luxury; and, of course, as a captain in the war he could afford a luxurious cabin. This Willis Russell took in—really it was two rooms. The upstairs was really a room and a half, which made it almost three rooms. This captain, this Willis Russell, the Negro slave, who was willed this cabin, took in African-American boys and girls and formed a school. And, according to our history that we have garnered, it was the first school for African Americans west of the Allegheny Mountains. So, this, uh . . .

BRINSON: Now this would have been before or after the Civil War?

FRYE: After.

BRINSON: Afterwards. He did the school, the first school?

FRYE: Uh-huh. I think it was after the Civil War, I think. I have notes on it but right now—but I think it was . . .

BRINSON: In many southern states though, of course, there were laws that prohibited you from teaching blacks.

FRYE: Right. Right. And, of course, he—Craddock did not do the teaching. It was after Willis Russell, the slave, was willed the house that Willis Russell did the teaching. And I don’t know whether it was even forbidden then and whether he did it secretly, I don’t know. But . . .

BRINSON: What a wonderful find though. What a wonderful find that is.

FRYE: Yes, yes. Uh-huh. And Cecile Duland Wallace, uh, got the group of African Americans together and formed an organization and we restored that log house. And we got grants. And my husband and I worked very hard at raising funds for the restoration and supervising it. And it’s there, and we’re not doing what we should be doing with it because we--we restored it with the idea of making an African-American museum; and I had hoped that we could put a genealogical bank upstairs and have a museum on the first floor. We have done nothing with our original plans but it is still there. Uh, they have it rented now but I’m living in hopes that it will really be used as a historical sight. It’s referred to very often by David Morgan. He worked with us beautifully in both restorations, and we had grants, multiple grants in the restoration of these two buildings. Right now there is a third building, the Masonic Lodge building, that we got one grant for. But the Lodge itself is in turmoil and it’s, it’s on hold right now. But it is in the downtown restoration area, and we’re hoping to get some action.

BRINSON: Well, you sound very passionate to me about all of this, which is African- American history in preservation.

FRYE: I’m not promoting myself . . .

BRINSON: No, no, no, no, no. I’m saying you just get—you sound very excited about it, and I can understand that.

FRYE: I am and yet I’m disturbed about it. I’m deeply disturbed. And, and I can’t get this enthusiasm to rub off. And, of course, my interest in the Masonic Hall is, what shall I say?, misplaced and out of order, because the Masonics even don’t let their auxiliary women have too much voice. And I’ve been pushing, but I’ve gotten nowhere; they aren’t doing anything. But I’m hoping.

BRINSON: Well, next trip I hope you’ll give me a tour.

FRYE: I’d love to. I would love to.

BRINSON: Thank you.

END OF INTERVIEW