© 2026 WFAE

Mailing Address:
WFAE 90.7
P.O. Box 896890
Charlotte, NC 28289-6890
Tax ID: 56-1803808
90.7 Charlotte 93.7 Southern Pines 90.3 Hickory 106.1 Laurinburg
Play Live Radio
Next Up:
0:00
0:00
0:00 0:00
Available On Air Stations

Black Oral Histories of Beaufort County project is preserving the past before it slips away

Reflecting on Heritage: One African American's Journey Through Time
maymt5/MAY - stock.adobe.com
/
729390730
Reflecting on Heritage: One African American's Journey Through Time

While history is often studied through textbooks and official documents, a non-profit group in eastern North Carolina is proving that some of the most valuable historical records are stored right in the memories of our neighbors. A digital archive is capturing the raw, unedited life stories of regional elders. The Black Oral Histories of Beaufort County project is preserving the past before it slips away.

For decades, the lived experiences of Black people in rural communities like Washington, Belhaven, and Blounts Creek went largely unrecorded. But a local initiative, launched by the non-profit Odyssey for Democracy and backed by North Carolina Humanities, is changing that.

The Black Oral Histories of Beaufort County project, launched by the non-profit Odyssey for Democracy and backed by North Carolina Humanities, is led by Clark Curtis; he has compiled dozens of first-hand interviews, giving local elders a platform to share their own histories in their own voices.
Clark Curtis
The Black Oral Histories of Beaufort County project, launched by the non-profit Odyssey for Democracy and backed by North Carolina Humanities, is led by Clark Curtis; he has compiled dozens of first-hand interviews, giving local elders a platform to share their own histories in their own voices.

The project, led by Clark Curtis, the president and founder of the Washington-based non-profit, has compiled dozens of first-hand interviews, giving local elders a platform to share their own histories in their own voices.

“You've got folks that have 400 years or more where they've been told their stories are not important,” he explained, “And it's like, I just felt the need and the want to create a platform for individuals, black individuals, to be able to share their stories because their stories are part of all of our history and they're important for us to remember and learn from.”

Born in 1933, 92-year-old Ledell Moore grew up in a small two-room house with her five other siblings in Blounts Creek, NC. She never wore shoes in the summer, and when the only pair she got for school in the fall wore out, her dad would use hog rings to patch them up. And, despite the hard times, there was always food on the table for the family of eight. Ledell thanks the Lord that she is still living, cooking, and able to take care of whatever she needs on her own.
Clark Curtis
Born in 1933, 92-year-old Ledell Moore grew up in a small two-room house with her five other siblings in Blounts Creek, NC. She never wore shoes in the summer, and when the only pair she got for school in the fall wore out, her dad would use hog rings to patch them up. And, despite the hard times, there was always food on the table for the family of eight. Ledell thanks the Lord that she is still living, cooking, and able to take care of whatever she needs on her own.

Listeners can log on to the digital archive and hear vivid accounts of the twentieth century. Interviewees like Ledell Moore, born in 1933, describe the grit it took to grow up in a two-room house with five siblings, navigating rural poverty.

“I got one pair of shoes, and when that pair of shoes looked like -- back that time, shoes went to flip-flop, the sole would come from the shoe -- and my dad would take hog rings and patch them shoes up, and I'd wear them to school. I thought I was rich, I didn't know, but I was poor.”

In fact, Curtis said that is a theme heard over and over again in the dozens of interviews he has conducted, “’We were poor, but we didn't know we were poor.’ And it's, I would say, over 90% of the individuals we've interviewed, that's what they say.

Terry Sneed Brown was born in Washington, North Carolina, in 1951. A time when the racial divide in this small rural Eastern North Carolina community was very evident. From being kicked off an all white outdoor tennis court at the age of 8, to being refused service at the counter in Woolworth’s, to having the climb the fire escape steps in the alley at the Turnage Theater just to get to the balcony of the theatre where Blacks had to sit, and being a member of the first integrated senior class at Washington High School after attending P.S. Jones for so many years. But despite these and other challenging encounters during his life, he holds no grudges. “I’m not going to let anyone or anything hold me back from doing what I want to do!”
Clark Curtis
Terry Sneed Brown was born in Washington, North Carolina, in 1951. A time when the racial divide in this small rural Eastern North Carolina community was very evident. From being kicked off an all white outdoor tennis court at the age of 8, to being refused service at the counter in Woolworth’s, to having the climb the fire escape steps in the alley at the Turnage Theater just to get to the balcony of the theatre where Blacks had to sit, and being a member of the first integrated senior class at Washington High School after attending P.S. Jones for so many years. But despite these and other challenging encounters during his life, he holds no grudges. “I’m not going to let anyone or anything hold me back from doing what I want to do!”

Terry Sneed Brown was born in Washington in 1951. He recalled being kicked off an all-white outdoor tennis court at the age of 8.

“A police car drove up, and the first thing out of this cop's mouth was, ‘What are you doing out there, n****r?’ And I'm like 8 years old, so I'm looking at him -- he's a big guy. He said, ‘You hear me talking to you, boy?’ I said, ‘I'm playing tennis.’ ‘Oh, you getting smart with me?’ I said, 'No, sir, you asked me what I'm doing here. I'm playing tennis.’ He kicked us off the court.”

Brown also remembered being refused service at the counter in Woolworth’s .

Born in the early 40s, first cousins Shirley Tyre and Preddy Stilley come from humble beginnings in rural eastern Beaufort County near Blounts Creek, North Carolina. Their families were sharecroppers, and each worked the fields, primarily corn and tobacco, from six in the morning till six in the evening. It wasn’t an easy life, but there was always food to eat and clothes on their backs, which sometimes were made from scraps of burlap bags. As both shared, “we were poor, but we didn’t know we were poor.” They grew up during the Jim Crow era and experienced racism firsthand on many levels. Their life stories as adults may have taken them on different paths, but their eternal family bond makes these first cousins seem more like sisters.
Clark Curtis
Born in the early 40s, first cousins Shirley Tyre and Preddy Stilley come from humble beginnings in rural eastern Beaufort County near Blounts Creek, North Carolina. Their families were sharecroppers, and each worked the fields, primarily corn and tobacco, from six in the morning till six in the evening. It wasn’t an easy life, but there was always food to eat and clothes on their backs, which sometimes were made from scraps of burlap bags. As both shared, “we were poor, but we didn’t know we were poor.” They grew up during the Jim Crow era and experienced racism firsthand on many levels. Their life stories as adults may have taken them on different paths, but their eternal family bond makes these first cousins seem more like sisters.

First cousins Shirley Tyre and Preddy Stilley grew up recalling the exhausting, dawn-to-dusk labor of working as child sharecroppers in regional corn and tobacco fields.

“I would go there and a lot of times help take the cured tobacco out of the barns. And a lot of times, I didn't even go home at night because they had what they called shelters. And they would close the shelters in with some kind of burlap bags or some kind of material. And that's where we would sleep at night.”

Curtis said capturing these memories is crucial, particularly amid the current political climate. “Since when does history get a label as Critical Race Theory or whatever?” he asked, “It's part of all of our history.”

As the older generation passes away, he said these unwritten stories of resilience, faith, and community leadership risk being lost forever, and archiving them online ensures that future generations of educators, students, and families can hear the true history of Beaufort County straight from the people who lived it.

Curtis said the project is beginning to branch out to other eastern North Carolina communities, like Craven and Pamlico Counties, to preserve more regional stories of the past. In addition to the project website, the interviews are also preserved in the Library of Congress.

Annette is originally a Midwest gal, born and raised in Michigan, but with career stops in many surrounding states, the Pacific Northwest, and various parts of the southeast. An award-winning journalist and mother of four, Annette moved to eastern North Carolina in 2019 to be closer to family – in particular, her two young grandchildren. It’s possible that a -27 day with a -68 windchill in Minnesota may have also played a role in that decision. In her spare time, Annette does a lot of kiddo cuddling, reading, and producing the coolest Halloween costumes anyone has ever seen. She has also worked as a diversity and inclusion facilitator serving school districts and large corporations. It’s the people that make this beautiful area special, and she wants to share those stories that touch the hearts of others. If you have a story idea to share, please reach out by email to westona@cravencc.edu.