Student video project chronicles county lives

Wednesday, March 5, 2008

Click here to enlarge this photo Staff photo by GARY SMITH The film project isn’t all serious work as Keani McDow, left, Kayla Thompson, LaShawn Fenwick laugh, while Audrey Butler watches footage on the camera. E-Mail This Article | Print This Story

That’s what the class had to offer in the past, the opportunity to learn how to be a teacher.

This year, however, with the county celebrating its 350th anniversary, the 26 students — 25 girls and one guy — were the ones learning something new.

And teaching as a profession was quickly turning into an on-the-fly film class.

In celebration of Black History Month and to take down as much oral history as they can, the students have been setting appointments and interviewing several longtime county residents to get their memories and stories on tape.

‘‘It’s all student-produced,” said RaFeena Joseph, a 17-year-old junior. ‘‘We’ve been working a long time, gathering questions and mentally preparing ourselves.”

The class has several interviews under its belt including those from Charles Briscoe, an 88-year-old known as ‘‘Mr. La Plata;” the Rev. Robert Swann Pittman of the Body of Christ Community Farm in Malcolm; Lillian Parks, the daughter of J.C. Parks, who was the superintendent of the black schools back when segregation was in place; and William ‘‘Dump” Butler, who at 104 years old has lived through a lot of changing times.

When sharing their stories, the older generation has taught the students more than they bargained for.

‘‘I learned when integration [began] people were open to it, white and black,” said Sharron Anderson, a senior.

‘‘I thought there would be a lot of fighting,” Jasmine White chimed in.

‘‘There wasn’t any,” added Joseph.

The kids also learned that what they take for granted, the older citizens couldn’t.

‘‘We asked them about going to the mall,” said Amanda Duran, 17. ‘‘They were like, ‘The mall? We made our clothes.’”

History in the flesh

Butler, who was born and raised in Bryantown and now lives with his daughter, Irma Johnson, in Malcolm, has seen a lot of life but he still has a full head of snowy hair, is dressed in a suit and walks unaided by a walker or cane when he meets with students almost nine decades younger than he.

Butler celebrated 104 years in January and continues to work at the Bryantown Mall stocking shelves at the convenience store.

‘‘He wants to get out,” Johnson said. ‘‘He can’t stand to be idle.”

It is understandable, especially after listening to Butler recount his life on Monday morning for the Lackey students.

While the teens had questions prepared, Butler, as is a 104-year-old’s God-given right, tended to ramble about whatever came to his mind.

He even stood up; arms crossed firmly across his chest, as if he has been asked to do it countless times before, and sang, ‘‘Please Don’t Talk About Me When I’m Gone.”

Johnson said her sister often teases their father about his penchant for breaking into song by asking, ‘‘Are you ready for another rehearsal?”

Butler recalled working on the family farm, overseeing 50 head of cattle and 300 chickens, looking after the tobacco and corn crops and then going over to the school to look after the children.

Taught by nuns at St. Mary’s Bryantown, Butler said he always tried to set a good example not only for his children, but the others in the community.

‘‘You want a child to be good, you gotta be good,” he said.

‘‘You take a child and dog him, he’ll turn on you eventually. I never had a bad child ’cause I treated them good.”

Married for 77 years to the late Mary Hazel Butler (who died two years ago at 93), Butler had seven children of his own, and remained in contact with several others as they made their way in the world.

The sexton of St. Mary’s for years, Butler was a hard worker who not only farmed but also dug graves and cleaned the church and school.

‘‘Got no extra pay to do it,” he said. ‘‘Just a ‘thank you.’”

And while he said he ‘‘never did drink, never did smoke,” he did find ways to have fun.

‘‘All I did was some dancing,” said Butler, eliciting giggles from the women who accompanied him to Lackey — Johnson, Louise Webb, who is not only the vice president of the African-American Heritage Society and a fellow interview subject, but Butler’s cousin, and Mary R. Boyd, president of the heritage society.

‘‘I was a great dancer,” he said. ‘‘I learned from my mother. She tap-danced. I couldn’t get up high enough to tap dance.”

Butler also liked to look good.

‘‘I decided to be sharp all the time,” he said, in response to a question about how he dressed as a young man.

In addition to regularly playing cards and night and day hunting, Butler and his brothers were also known as top-notch athletes in Bryantown, Johnson said.

‘‘He was a home-run hitter,” Johnson said of her father. ‘‘He was a great baseball player. We used to go and watch them. His brothers, then his nephews came up. Those boys were the hottest thing in Bryantown.”

But the games ended there.

‘‘We all worked together,” Johnson said. ‘‘He and my mother were disciplinarians. We had to be obedient. But I don’t dread one moment of my upbringing.”

staylor@somdnews.com