Brackett Hall is home to “Spiral Mesh,” a series of sculptures by Charleston-based artist Joe Walters.
Brooks Center Director Lillian U. Harder, set to retire in 2017, reflects on her 44 years at Clemson.
That’s how long Lillian “Mickey” Harder, director of the Brooks Center for the Performing Arts, and her husband planned to stay in Clemson when they arrived in 1972. Sitting in her office 44 years later, she reflected on the course of her life. “Sometimes we need to relax and take what comes,” she mused, “because if anyone had ever told me that I would have ended up doing what I’ve been doing, I would have laughed out loud.”
Harder, who will retire this year, knows the surprises life can hold. She began teaching piano at age 16 in her hometown of St. George, South Carolina, and believes she was destined for a career in education: “To take students who knew absolutely nothing about music and to be able to turn them on to something that they could use for the rest of their lives was awe-inspiring.”
After receiving her bachelor’s degree from Coker College and her master’s degree from Converse College, Harder’s first college job offer wasn’t the right fit. “I had the heart to know something else was out there,” she said. She never thought that “something” would be Clemson. Harder’s husband returned from service in Vietnam to serve as a physician on the staff of Redfern Health Center. Though doubtful she could pursue music at a University primarily known for engineering and agriculture, Harder reluctantly accepted a one-year teaching appointment in the music department.
One year turned into many. Rising through the ranks to full professor, Harder taught piano and other music courses for 24 years. In 1986, she and her husband established and funded what would become her legacy: the Lillian and Robert Utsey Chamber Music Series. Named in honor of her parents, the series has featured up-and-coming classical musicians, free of charge, for over three decades. Harder was in charge of booking those musicians for 10 years before receiving the opportunity of a lifetime in 1996.
That was the year she was offered the position of director by performing arts department chair, Chip Egan. “I was really very reticent about doing it,” she said. “I loved the classroom, and I felt very successful in that.”
Two pieces of advice ultimately swayed her. Egan himself told her, “Your classroom is just going to be bigger.” In a speech honoring co-education at Clemson, news anchor and Clemson graduate Jane Robelot said, “Those of us who can, have to do, because there are a lot of people who can only dream.” With that, Harder accepted the position and has spent two decades at the helm of Clemson University’s only performing arts center.
There is perhaps no better illustration of Harder’s favorite saying, “Bloom where you’re planted,” than her own life. “I think, sometimes, we just have to go with things and be determined that we’re going to do and be the best that we can,” she said. “Things happen for a reason, and they usually turn out pretty darn well.”
— Thomas Hudgins
Three new historical markers at Clemson are tangible reminders of the University’s full history — a history not as idyllic as the well-manicured lawn of Bowman field and the picture-perfect walk by the library.
In April, University officials, trustees and guests broke ground for three double-sided markers: One at the intersection of South Palmetto Boulevard and Fernow Street Extension to commemorate a site where slave quarters stood on the plantation owned by John C. Calhoun and later by University founder Thomas Green Clemson; the second near Calhoun Bottoms farmland to commemorate the role of Native Americans and African-Americans in the development of the Fort Hill Plantation lands; the third near Woodland Cemetery to mark the burial sites of the family of John C. Calhoun, enslaved people and state-leased prisoners who died during their confinement at Clemson.
“The story of Clemson University’s founding is one of great vision, commitment and perseverance,” said President James P. Clements at the event. “However, it is also a story with some uncomfortable history. And, although we cannot change our history, we can acknowledge it and learn from it, and that is what great universities do.”
The markers are one way Clemson is working to give a more accurate public accounting of its history to acknowledge connections to slavery, segregation or other practices and viewpoints inconsistent with current institutional values.
During the event, Clements praised the work of Rhondda Thomas, associate professor of English, whose research on African-Americans who lived and labored at Clemson prior to desegregation spurred interest in the markers.
One of those stories is about Sharper and Caroline Brown, whose daughter Matilda was born into slavery but lived most of her life as a free woman. Matilda Brown’s granddaughter, Eva Hester Martin, 90, of Greenville, was a guest at the groundbreaking ceremony for the historical markers.
It’s a story Thomas pieced together from personal recollections backed up by photos, newspaper clippings, church and census records, and other documentation. The youngest of 10 children, Martin earned a degree in chemistry from S.C. State University, enjoyed a successful career as a medical technician in Chicago and Los Angeles, and raised four children.
“Our archives are a wonderful resource, and census records are a great help,” Thomas said. “For the convict laborers, however, the pardon records provide the strongest evidence of the men and boys who labored at Clemson, as the documentation specifies when they were released from Clemson College. But in some cases the records are incomplete or missing.”
Thomas hopes the University’s efforts to tell these stories will encourage more family members to come forward with information, photos, family Bibles or other materials that can confirm an ancestor’s connection to the University’s early years.
It is often said in the Army that master sergeants are the ones really in charge of their units, and there’s probably more than a kernel of truth in that in a university ROTC unit. The master sergeant trains cadets in tactical tasks such as land navigation, first aid, working as a team, weapons firing and small unit movements as well as instilling in them values of discipline, integrity and responsibility.
In the late 1950s and 1960s, Francis “Sarge” Lewis filled that role at Clemson. He not only instructed cadets in the basics of military training, he also advised and coached the newly established rifle team as well as serving as chaperone for the band and cheerleaders. The rifle team is pictured with Lewis in the 1967 Taps, and the section on the team refers to it as “one of the newer sports at Clemson.” That year the team was ACC champions, 3rd Army champions, S.C. State Champions and the Western Carolina Conference champions. It noted that the team had placed as high as fifth in the nation in the National Rifle Association competition.
Lewis was such an established part of the Clemson community that, according to a story told by his brother, Joe Lewis, when the army tried to transfer him away from Clemson, President Edwards stepped in and managed to retain Lewis.
Longtime Clemson administrator Nick Lomax ’63 remembers Lewis both from his time as a student and from when he returned to campus as a staff member after two years in the military. According to Lomax, Lewis “had the perfect military posture, and his normal walk appeared to be a military march.” Lomax also commented on how helpful Lewis and his fellow sergeants — Burton, Gilbert and Purcell — were to “young cadets as we prepared for military service.”
When Lewis retired in 1967, he purchased the nearby Esso Station and soon replaced the small grocery section with a pool table, beginning the transformation of a gas station into the “Esso Club,” a gathering place for students and locals.
Lewis died on September 6, 2015. As his family wrote in his obituary, “The first part of his military career was spent growing and maturing into a professional solider; the last half was spent growing and maturing young men and women into productive American citizens.”
Thanks to Allen Wood for providing background on Lewis and his time at Clemson.
Perched on a hill overlooking Bowman Field, Clemson House has been home to faculty, staff, students and the families of more than one president over the past 65 years. Constructed in 1950 by Daniel Construction Company of Greenville, it was known as “Carolina’s smartest hotel.”
When it first opened, Clemson House featured a large dining room on the first floor, a club (non-alcoholic) on the lower level, seven stories of rooms and apartments, and a penthouse with the best view in town.
Originally intended to house faculty, staff and retired faculty, the apartment-style hotel was first pressed into limited service for student housing in the early 1970s.
The barbershop on the first level has weathered six decades of changing hair styles, offering both haircuts and conversation. Clemson House was also home to a radio station and broadcasting facility from the 1950s until the early ’80s.
In 1973, President Robert Edwards recommended changes to transition Clemson House into a dorm, but said that full-time residents could remain as long as they wished. None had the staying power of architecture professor Joe Young, who had been the first full-time resident in 1950. After five decades, Young said his goodbyes in 2000. The penthouse is named for him, as well as “Joe’s Place,” the bar located at the Madren Conference Center.
* Note: Corrected on 5/28/15 to reflect that the radio station housed at Clemson House from the 1950s until the early ’80s was not a student station. Thanks to Van Fair (the “F” in WSBF) for that correction.
On any given day, the center of Clemson’s campus is a unique blend of bustling students rushing to class and relaxed students enjoying the outdoors during their break in the day. The library stands tall and white against the sky, opening its massive glass doors to those who need to work, while just a short distance away, students admire the light gleaming off the water in the reflection pond through the Amphitheater pillars and relax on the concrete, brick and grass steps.
But without courageous students a few decades ago, this image may not have existed.
A gift of the classes of 1915 and 1940 for the stage and seating respectively, the Amphitheater was built in early 1940 and was dedicated to both classes while it hosted its first graduation for the class of 1940. Since then, it has grown to be not only an iconic image and representation of Clemson, but also a beloved host to student organizations, weekly pep rallies, graduations and afternoon naps. In the 1970s, when the students learned of the administration’s plan to renovate and redesign the current Amphitheater and replace it with a low-walled brick structure to better match the other buildings on campus, the student body was appalled.
“There must be more student input into every decision that is made here!” This was the rallying cry of the student organization known as SOAP (Save Our Amphitheater People) that assembled more than 1,200 students and townspeople to protest the proposed Amphitheater renovation in 1977, possibly the largest protest in Clemson University history.
Petitions were signed and students were urged by the student body government to stand up to protect the amphitheater, inspiring several people to speak directly to the president regarding their disapproval and disappointment.
Just a few short weeks later, President Edwards met with his cabinet to discuss the issue and ultimately decided to postpone the renovation indefinitely.
Instead, thanks to the determination of the Clemson student body in fall 1977, the University arranged to have the Amphitheater stage restored to the splendor of the 1940s and the wooden benches replaced with the current tiered concrete seating.
Decades later, the Clemson Amphitheater is still home to not only festivals, theater groups, pep rallies and afternoon naps, but also to the strong Clemson Spirit that protected it so many years ago.
“Put about 10,000 seats behind the YMCA. That’s all you’ll ever need.”
Those were the words of Coach Jess Neely as he left for Rice after the 1939 season. Fortunately, Clemson didn’t follow his advice.
In 1941, the S.C. General Assembly authorized the issuance of $100,000 in bonds to build a stadium. The project was a mid-1900s version of a Creative Inquiry project: Civil engineering students did the preliminary surveying, Professor H.E. “Pop” Glenn and Carl Lee, a 1908 engineering alumnus, provided the design and construction drawings, and players cleared the hill- sides. Coach Frank Howard and returning football players laid the sod in the summer of 1941. Legend has it that Howard put a plug of tobacco into each corner of the stadium as the concrete was poured.
When all was said and done, it seated about 20,000 fans in 26 rows. The University’s trustees named it Memorial Stadium, commemorating all of the alumni, faculty and staff who had died in service to the country.
The first game of the season in 1942 was against Presbyterian College, as it had been since 1930, and Clemson rolled over them 32-13. PC head coach Lonnie MacMillan is credited with providing the stadium its nickname in 1951 after being defeated 53-6.
“It’s like going into Death Valley,” he said.
The name stuck and gained even more traction with the addition of Howard’s Rock in 1966, presented to Coach Frank Howard by an alumnus after a trip to California’s Death Valley. It was at the 1967 game against Wake Forest when rubbing The Rock became a tradition. Legend has it that Coach Howard challenged the team by saying, “If you’re going to give me 110 percent, you can rub that rock. If you’re not, keep your filthy hands off it.”
Another 17,500 seats were added in 1958 (overseen by Professor Glenn), and in 1957, the first Tigerama was held. In 1960, dressing rooms, restrooms and additional concession stands were added along with 6,000 more seats.
Had the original plans for Hartwell Lake gone forward, Memorial Stadium would have been flooded up to the 26th row. Lengthy negotiations and the addition of dikes ensured the stadium’s survival.
More seats have been added over the years, with current capacity at more than 80,000. And just this summer, Yahoo Sports ranked Clemson as having the most exciting entrance in college football, referencing its designation by sportscaster Brent Musburger as “the most exciting 25 seconds in college football.”
Interred in a shady plot along the periphery of Woodland Cemetery — a short punt from Death Valley and a pebble’s throw from Clemson family names like Sikes, Poole and R.C. Edwards — lie the earthly remains of one of the most influential Americans whose name you may have never heard.
Asbury Francis Lever — Frank to family, friends and constituents alike — was born on a family farm near Spring Hill in Lexington County on a winter day in 1875. Within 40 years the South Carolina farm boy would transform agriculture in the United States. All it took was a stroke of a pen and a vision for the future.
As a South Carolina congressman, Frank Lever — a Clemson life trustee — would team with Sen. Hoke Smith of Georgia to author a bill that would carry both their names. The Smith-Lever Act, which became law May 8, 1914, authorized the Cooperative Extension Service, in which federal, state and county governments cooperate to extend research-based science from land-grant universities like Clemson to working people who could apply it.
The concept wasn’t new to Lever. He had seen it at work before in his native state in the tomato demonstration clubs of the Lowcountry and in the trains that took Clemson professors across the state to teach farmers and their families the best practices for growing crops, preserving food and safeguarding the land.
“As early as 1905, Clemson was publishing a weekly fertilizer bulletin and mailing it to 12,000 farmers and agricultural businesses,” Clemson President Jim Clements reminded county agents and Extension specialists at their annual meeting in December. “Special Extension trains took faculty members throughout the state.
“What happened a hundred years ago was transformational for the country,” he said. “The Clemson model became the national model.”
“The county agent is to assume leadership in every movement, whatever it may be, the aim of which is better farming, more education, better living, more happiness and greater citizenship,” he said in floor debate on the bill. “You cannot make the farmer change the methods which have been sufficient to earn a livelihood for himself and his family for many years unless you show him, under his own vine and fig tree as it were, that you have a system better than the system which he himself has been following.”
Extension was established the same year World War I broke out in Europe. It immediately went to work to help farmers increase the production of crops essential to the war effort. In the century since, the revolutionary concept of extending university-based knowledge to working people resulted in Lever’s “revolution” in crop yields. An acre that grew 24 bushels of corn in 1911 will harvest, on average, six times as much today. Extension continues to deliver research-based education in agriculture, natural resources, food safety and nutrition, economic and community development, and 4-H youth development.
Today, as in Frank Lever’s day, agriculture is the state’s largest industry. And thanks to Lever’s legacy, the next century looks just as bright.
Frank Lever photo: Library of Congress, Prints & Photographs Division, photograph by Harris & Ewing, [reproduction number, e.g., LC-USZ62-123456]