Joel Buchanan Archive of African American History: http://ufdc.ufl.edu/ohfb
Samuel Proctor Oral History Program
College of Liberal Arts and Sciences Program Director: Dr. Paul Ortiz 241 Pugh Hall PO Box 115215 Gainesville, FL 32611 (352) 392-7168 https://oral.history.ufl.edu
AAHP 077 Samuel Taylor African American History Project (AAHP) Interview conducted by Paul Ortiz on September 5, 2009 1 hour, 22 minutes | 34 pages
Abstract: Sam Taylor grew up in the 5th Avenue neighborhood of Gainesville, Florida, raised by a father who was a business owner with an eighth grade education and a mother with a master’s degree from Columbia University and an undergraduate degree from Tuskegee University. He relates the general lack of connection that he experienced growing up between the University of Florida and the Black community of Gainesville, other than once sitting in the segregated bleachers at a UF football game, and having an uncle who worked as a custodian. Mr. Taylor attended Lincoln High School in Gainesville, and he describes his family life and what it was like to grow up in Gainesville during the Jim Crow era. He also describes some of his family history and the impact that his parents had on him growing up, as well as Lincoln teachers who had particular impact. He matriculated into the University of Florida in 1964, and later went on to become the first Black student body president. He describes the importance of those leadership roles in terms of their impact on his later life. He also was running for president during Black Thursday, the student demonstration that led to the founding of the Institute of Black Culture and the African American Studies Program, and he describes the event as he experienced it.
Keywords: [African American History; Alachua County, Florida; Lincoln High School; University of Florida]
For information on terms of use of this interview, please see the SPOHP Creative Commons license at http://ufdc.ufl.edu/AfricanAmericanOralHistory. AAHP 077 Interviewee: Samuel Taylor Interviewer: Paul Ortiz Date: September 5, 2009
O: We’re here this morning with Mr. Sam Taylor. And we’re honored that, Mr.
Taylor, you can take time from your busy weekend schedule to talk to us. My
name is Paul Ortiz, I’m director of the Oral History Program at UF. And I wonder
if we could start with some history questions, if that would be okay with you.
T: That’s fine.
O: Okay. Mr. Taylor, can you tell me a little bit about your family’s educational
background? Maybe your parents or grandparents.
T: Certainly, mmhm. My grandparents attended high school, but actually I don’t
know whether they graduated or not. The subject never came up. Both of my
grandfathers were deceased when I was born, but both grandmothers were
educated for the day. And my maternal grandmother, who lived with us, read
every day—the newspaper, and she’d sit on the porch and read that. I’d pick up
that habit from her, and an appreciation for reading as well. My parents are an
interesting combination. My father is a business owner; he always owned his own
businesses, and had an eighth grade education. The schools didn’t go any
farther than that in rural Louisiana where he grew up. My mother had a master’s
degree from Columbia. That was during the time where there were no Black
students at the University of Florida. So even though we lived on Fourth Street,
and she could have walked to campus, she could not go to school here. So, she
had to get her master’s from Columbia, her undergraduate degree is from
Tuskegee University in Alabama. AAHP 077; Taylor; Page 2
O: Do you know what years she was attending Tuskegee and then Columbia,
around what decade?
T: For Tuskegee it was in the 1940s, early [19]40s; Columbia in the late [19]50s.
O: Okay. So, you grew up in Gainesville?
T: Yes, I was born in Alachua General, two blocks from campus.
O: Now, your parents—of course, University of Florida is a historically White
institution. Did you ever think growing up that—well, actually let me back up:
what kind of contact did you have with the university growing up? If any.
T: None. None.
O: Okay.
T: Well, other than public events such as Homecoming parades. Those were
always fascinating to me. I was in band in high school, and had taken piano as a
child, so I loved music, and would thoroughly enjoy the parades. So, I have vivid
memories of those; the floats, and that being a major production. Gator Growl.
That was the extent of my exposure to the university, other than the occasional
person in the community, African American person, who worked at the university.
During those days, all employees that I knew of at the university were janitorial-
level personnel. In fact, one of my uncles was also at the university as a janitor
for many years, and he would share occasional information. In particular, just
conversation about the school. But one major memory that I have is my father,
who had no real like of football, bringing me to a Florida-Auburn game when I
was twelve. So, that was rather interesting, because he had never taken me to a
football game before. We did things together. But he felt for some reason that AAHP 077; Taylor; Page 3
that was important. And we came to the campus, went to the game, and during
that time even the crowds were segregated. So, we had to sit in the end zone
and watch the game. But I liked it. I felt very comfortable in the setting, even
though there was this major barrier of segregation there. During that time, the
Gainesville community—and this whole part of Florida—was completely
segregated. There was no breach that I knew of, in that façade. I would not see
role models anywhere, except the occasional doctor or dentist—
O: Maybe A. Quinn Jones, or some educator?
T: Well, yes, educators, but my mother was a teacher. So, I had an appreciation
both for the education professionals’ love of their work, and also the very limited
economic results they got from that. But my mother was passionate about
teaching, thoroughly loved it. So that helped me to develop a love of learning, as
well.
O: What types of values did your parents really raise you with that really stayed with
you?
T: That’s a good question, because I think that made a huge difference in the
person that I am. Their sense of the world was honed by the era that they grew
up in, so they had to proscribe their world within the knowledge that you can only
do so many things in a segregated society. But, what they did impart to me was
that I could do anything I wanted, and could be anything that I wanted. So, I had
a very strong sense of self coming from them, and it was reinforced. So in spite
of the barriers, in spite of the courthouse and other public places having White-
only and Colored fountains for drinking—you know, water fountains, things of that AAHP 077; Taylor; Page 4
nature—those were things that I saw, but I didn’t accept. Neither did I get angry
because of the way they raised me; it was more of an optimistic—“possibilistic” is
one way to look at it—perspective on what can be done with my life. Traditional
values: you don’t steal. You don’t lie. You work with people. My mother was a
primary grades teacher, so I’m thinking of Robert Fulghum’s book here,
Everything I Need to Know I Learned in Kindergarten. Fulghum. But in any case,
that was the kind of setting that I grew up in. Very strong values when I grew up.
O: Okay. If you could think back, Mr. Taylor: your senior year in high school; what
were your aspirations? What were you thinking about in terms of the future?
T: Well, I had expected in my senior year to begin seeing some breaches in that
façade with segregation, because the times were changing there just a bit. The
Civil Rights Movement was gaining some steam, and I wanted to begin crossing,
or just removing, some of the barriers that existed. So, I wanted to do things like
go to—just to visit—Gainesville High School. Interestingly, we had to go to
Lincoln High School, even though the original location for Gainesville High
School was maybe a five minute walk from my house.
O: Really?
T: Yes. I had to go to A. Quinn Jones Elementary School, in order to catch a bus to
go all the way across town to go to Lincoln High School. So, the controversy over
bussing a few years later I always thought was rather interesting, because we
had always been bussed, even though it was have been very easy to—physically
easy—to attend the nearest high school, but we couldn’t go there.
O: What street did you grow up on? AAHP 077; Taylor; Page 5
T: 4th Street.
O: 4th Street. Okay.
T: 4th Avenue and 4th Street, so I was four Gainesville blocks—which are short
blocks—from downtown, and could walk everywhere, pretty much, that I needed
to go in that community. I wanted to go to restaurants. Could not go to
restaurants when I was a kid that were not Black restaurants. The Florida
Theatre; again, four blocks from my house. Could never go, I knew no one who
had gone there. So, I was curious. Didn’t necessarily want to go there, but I
wanted to know that I wasn’t being kept out of it. So, it wasn’t that big a deal, but
going to the Theatre. Also, White churches were fascinating to me, because I
could never quite reconcile—and I grew up in the church, half a block from the
church, father was a deacon—
O: What church?
T: Mt. Carmel Baptist. He was superintendent of Sunday school for my entire youth.
So, I learned a lot about organization, structure, timeliness, and things of that
nature; business values and organizational effectiveness from him. Eighth
grader; that was his formal education, but a very smart man. I also, by the way,
as a result of the parents I had, the mix of their talent that they had and how they
complemented each other, gained an appreciation for the fact that people are not
necessarily categorized easily. So, many people who are poor—and everybody
where I grew up was poor—were not necessarily limited in their capabilities.
They didn’t necessarily know it. They didn’t necessarily have ways to express
their potential in development, but they could still be talented people, and it was a AAHP 077; Taylor; Page 6
matter of determining which talents each person had. So I guess another way to
look at that is, I learned to respect people regardless of who they are, whether I
agreed with them, disagreed with them, liked them, didn’t like them; it was still
there. They had a basic humanness that deserved respect. And that has served
me well over the years. So, the janitors through the executives in the business
environment are all just people.
O: When you were in high school, Mr. Taylor, were you thinking—you’ve talked
richly about your aspirations, and the world that you were growing up in, and how
you saw these slow changes. Were you thinking of college then, that senior
year?
T: Oh, absolutely. I grew up thinking about college. That was instilled in me. I never
thought of not going to college. [Laughter] Now, I didn’t think of going to the
university—the University of Florida—because that was not practical during that
time. I didn’t really localize my college aspirations. I thought of being in college,
and learning and pursuing some academic discipline. Didn’t know exactly what,
but the thought of learning was just exciting to me. So, I enjoyed that. Never
particularly had a strong attraction to any of the historically-Black colleges and
universities, primarily because I didn’t know that much about them. Didn’t know
much about Tuskegee other than mother mentioning that George Washington
Carver was there as a scientist while she was in school there, but that was about
the extent of her discussion of that school, Bethune-Cookman, Florida A&M. So, I
was aware of the schools, but the looming presence was the University of
Florida. It was right around the corner. And I also recall vividly several occasions AAHP 077; Taylor; Page 7
when a Black man from Daytona Beach by the name of Virgil Hawkins attempted
to go to law school here. He wanted to attend law school, and the then-president,
President J. Wayne Reitz, he unceremoniously escorted him—and it appeared to
all be quite civil—basically out the front door, to say, “No, you can’t do that.” The
law didn’t allow that. And Hawkins challenged that. I don’t know that he ever
actually attended. I think he may not have.
O: Right, even though there are a few programs on campus now that are named in
his honor, he was not allowed to attend. It’s a really sad story.
T: Yes, it is. But it was inspiring. Because each time he attempted that, maybe it
was once every five years or so, the picture of his being escorted from the
administration building, Tigert Hall, by the president was a vivid one for me. And
again, it was all done civilly; however the wrapping was civil, but the essential
message was one that was just simply not acceptable. For me, it was inspiring. It
was kind of the throwing down of a gauntlet: “Okay, let’s see if this can’t be
changed, because it’s clearly not fair.” By the way the unfairness of it was always
an interesting aspect of the way I looked at the segregation of higher education
during those years. I thought it was rather ironic that my parents had lived in
Florida for forty years, I think, at that time, had paid taxes, and could not attend
nor could their children attend a state university. It was just like, how ironic is
that? Now, at least, they could attend only one state university at that point, so
their taxes would go to, were channeled—or, our options were channeled even
though the taxes would be going to the support all institutions. AAHP 077; Taylor; Page 8
O: Exactly. Were you talking with your peers in high school about colleges? Were
they also talking perhaps about maybe going to—trying to go to UF or an HBCU,
do you remember?
T: Limited discussion. The reason primarily is because the students at that time
were, again, largely poor. And even those who weren’t exactly poor were children
of educators; so they had some advantages but were not necessarily, by any
economic standard, even middle class. What I found happening there was that
students looked at the world practically. They were from rural communities—
Archer, Newberry, Hawthorne, places like that; Waldo—and they would go to
high school with the intent of just completing high school, and after that they’d do
whatever they could to make a living. So, college just didn’t really resonate for
many students. Their parents had not necessarily attended college. Typically, if
their parents had, their parents were educators. So, students didn’t get interested
in college until about the twelfth grade, ironically, and at that point they realized
that they just might be able to go. So, they began taking the standardized tests
and all, even though they hadn’t necessarily prepared themselves, hadn’t taken
the limited number of academic courses that were available in the Black high
schools.
O: Were there teachers in high school at Lincoln that inspired you, or that pushed
you academically?
T: Oh, absolutely. I remember two in particular: the one who really stands out is
Ruby Washington. She was a tough cookie! Young, and had a reputation as
someone that you did not want to mess with. [Laughter] A very attractive woman, AAHP 077; Taylor; Page 9
also. And the reputation never concerned me. I just wanted to see what was all that about? And she was the greatest teacher—and the students loved her, the students that were actually in her class. But she didn’t take lightly to fools, nor foolish behavior. So, she immediately got us into Macbeth, and I saw students who were terribly bored with their junior and senior high school experience— because it was a combination there—who ended up going to great lengths to get engaged with literature, the classics, and just learning, performing well as students in that English class. So that one year, eleventh grade English, was a real inspiration. Because prior to that time I always found the subject boring.
Also, Rayfield McGee, who was my chemistry teacher, was an inspiration. We did—chemistry and physics—we did some really interesting things. I found that those two were enough, combined with my guidance from home, to really get me excited about the possibilities of going to college and really exploring the opportunity, taking advantage of the opportunity, to learn in an environment where there was proper funding. Because there was almost nothing but the building at Lincoln. In fact, in tenth grade biology—that, for me, was 1962—the textbook was a 1948 health book. So, when I came to the UF, I just had no background in biology. Nothing. There were a handful of new microscopes the teacher kept back in the storage area, not to be used. The principal returned money to the school board at the end of the year, and when I found out about that a couple of years after I had graduated, I just could not believe it, because we had such dire needs—I mean, such great needs—in the school. But that was the era of segregation. So, the way that that principal kept his job was to keep AAHP 077; Taylor; Page 10
the administration of the county pleased, and he thought the way to do that was
to send money back. Amazing.
O: Yeah. Wow. Can you describe the process, Mr. Taylor—so, you had real strong
role models, it sounds like, both in school and at home; describe the process if
you could that leads you from being a senior at Lincoln to UF.
T: Okay. Well, I’ll have to go back a bit to fill in a couple things that may be helpful
to know. I mentioned my maternal grandmother living with us, and I have no
actual idea of her formal education, but based on my use of experience living
with her, she was a very bright woman, and oriented towards learning, and
reading newspapers from other parts of the country, those kinds of things. So, I
had a head start. My mother, being a primary grade educator, also focused on
getting me off to a fast start. So, I knew my ABCs before I went to kindergarten, I
could read very early, and I skipped two grades, my second and sixth. So I was
in high school two years younger than my classmates, and it never mattered. I
guess socially, I was mature enough to handle that. It was one of the criteria
used to make the decision whether to skip me the second time. Anyway, I was
always a little out of place—not that it really mattered—but that helped me feel
comfortable doing what I needed to do. And with that combination of early
childhood experiences, a direction toward learning, and a love of learning—
reading, things of that nature, curiosity—all that played major parts in my
deciding to focus on UF as the college I wanted to go to. I had good grades and I
could’ve gone to a number of schools, but opted to go here.
O: Did you apply to a range of schools, or did you—? AAHP 077; Taylor; Page 11
T: That’s interesting, I’d have to think back on—oh, yes I did! I do recall looking
seriously at Carnegie Tech.
O: In Pittsburgh.
T: Yes, In Pittsburgh. Partly because I saw literature from that school—and various
others—but there was something about that institution that resonated with me.
But the practicality of it was that my family could not afford that. So, the prior—
let’s see, I graduated from high school in 1964. In 1963, as I recall, Stephan
Mickle, who graduated from my high school in 1961, entered the University of
Florida as a law student as I recall. I may not have my dates right—
O: That’s around, yeah—
T: So, it seems like he would have gotten out of college real fast, there. But maybe
he came in as an undergrad.
O: He did come in as an undergrad, and then he attended the Levin Law School.
Mmhm.
T: Very good, thanks. Because I was getting to wonder here, my dates. But yes, a
couple years prior. And since I knew Stephan—we were both in band in high
school, I knew his family and all—then, it made it even more possible to go to
school at UF. Now, we’re talking Stephan and probably at that time, four or five
African Americans attending the school. But knowing that it was a larger school
and all, you just simply had to deal with the fact that you were going to be one of
a very small number of students who were different. I do recall—and this
recollection’s kind of hazy, it’s vague—that the university had some African
students—Black African students. And some students in the Institute of AAHP 077; Taylor; Page 12
Agricultural Sciences there—the College of Agriculture, basically—some Indian
students. Some Indian students who were black like me, dark skinned, as well as
the sheikh—or, sikh, I should say—students who were very regal in their turbans
and all. But I found it interesting: “So, color alone doesn’t keep you out of the
school. If you come through another country, maybe—” [Laughter] “All right,
these rules make no sense!”
O: One of the many paradoxes of segregation. [Laughter]
T: Exactly. So, again, a few other possibilities; all it really took was an exception
here, and someone doing something extraordinary there. I never felt that I
couldn’t go here, but that was largely a matter of—well, a combination of my
upbringing and the times. This was just at the time when the whole issue of
segregation in public education, though we were well beyond Brown v. Board of
Education, was just was not a tenable idea. Or, absolute segregation was not
tenable, let’s put it that way. So, a few could get in was the thought. And apply.
So there were several other schools, but I really focused on UF, partly because it
was right there. And a good school, one that I felt quite comfortable with.
O: Can you describe the application process, as you recall, to get into UF at that
time? Did you have a guidance counselor, or did your parents help you with that?
T: At that time, I don’t recall assistance from a guidance counselor. I’m sure there
was, but it was more in the traditional role of Black students can think about
going to historically Black colleges and universities. And there were various
recruiting networks that were in place. There were adults in the community that
had gone to Howard University, for example; Bethune-Cookman; Edward Waters AAHP 077; Taylor; Page 13
College which was in Jacksonville; and things of that nature. So, the guidance
counselors really didn’t have to push real hard. The students would get their cues from other resources: people basically, networks outside of the school, to help
them choose their school. What I did find was that the information available on
the University of Florida was right there. It was easy to get; just public sources.
And interestingly, for some reason, I studied the—oh, what’s it called these
days? It was in a book. Oh, the course catalog! This is well before the internet.
[Laughter] So everything was there. It was just fascinating to me to look at the
rich mix of courses that were available, and I kind of figured it would be fun to
participate in that. There was an experience with a graduate student who was a
mentor of mine when I was a senior in high school. Derrick, and I cannot think of
his last name. He was English, and his wife. I haven’t thought about them in
many, many years. But they brought me onto campus to various events.
Because prior to that time, even though I lived just a few blocks from campus,
Black people didn’t attend the various cultural events on campus: lectures,
artistic performances. The only events I recall that Black people would
occasionally attend were pop artists. Because those were just open to the public;
pay your money and you go. So, those were rather limited. But the cultural
events I found really interesting, because of the casual atmosphere on campus.
Everyone was relaxed, and the range of academic as well as social activities—
social in the sense of—“cultural” is really a better term—activities that were
available. So, I liked participating in those. Just that dabbling in those took me
outside the world I was in. AAHP 077; Taylor; Page 14
O: But that was before you actually were attending UF. So, maybe you were in high
school?
T: Yes, I was a senior.
O: So in some ways, that was kind of an entrée into the university culture.
T: Right. Right. But I do think that perhaps the pivotal event was the enrollment of
Stephan Mickle, because I knew him. Knew him in high school, knew his family.
All of that meant that he was someone like me. If he did that; shoot, that would
be something fun to do. And it would be much more interesting than any other
school.
O: It made it possible for you to imagine the possibility.
T: Right.
O: Did you have the opportunity to talk to him, before you entered UF, about his
experience, or—?
T: I think we just bumped into each other a couple times, maybe at church or
something of that nature. But we didn’t really have any discussions about that,
because I think the expectation of anybody Black attending a school was, you
deal with whatever happens. [Laughter] You know? And so, if you’re going to go,
you go. And you go to succeed. And you don’t let anything distract you from that.
It was a positive thing, not necessarily that we would expect problems. Because
frankly, I don’t ever recall the expectation that there would be problems attending
this school. There was obviously the knowledge growing up in this part of the
country that not everyone would be happy with that, but so be it.
O: So you graduated from high school in 1964. AAHP 077; Taylor; Page 15
T: Correct.
O: Did you enter UF the following fall? Or did you—?
T: Actually I entered in the summer. I went right into college when I was fifteen, on
the dot. My birthday came five days later. So, easy to remember that. I enrolled
June 15th, 1964. It’s rather interesting looking back on it now, as a fifteen-year-
old, as a full-time student. But, it made complete sense. I thoroughly enjoyed
that. The summer was great for me to start, because there was nothing to do
around Gainesville—the Gainesville of those years—during the summer months.
So, might as well start school. Plus the atmosphere is more laid back during that
time. The university, the state university system was on the trimester schedule,
so as I recall during the summer there were two maybe seven week sessions in
that summer trimester. So you had an accelerated pace for the classes, which
gave me the real introduction to college-level work, and also helped reinforce
that, “Oh, I can do this.” There are a number of things I had not been exposed to,
but it’s just a matter of buckling down and learning. So I did that, started in the
summer; and then, come fall, the rest of the student body appeared. And it was a
real experience seeing so many more people on campus, but it wasn’t anything I
would say created any kinds of issues, because I knew I was attending a large
school, and expected that. So frankly, the summer session was in the
counterpoint to that, more of an intimate atmosphere, and then I knew what to
expect in the fall.
O: What types of courses did you take? AAHP 077; Taylor; Page 16
T: Well, the standard courses. I had a science orientation when I started. So,
beyond English and the traditional liberal arts, I had chemistry, physics, zoology,
and the labs associated with each of those. An array of science-oriented
electives mixed in with what was then called—may still be—university college;
two-year required curricula. I have to recall, too, that humanities was just
thoroughly enjoyable program for me. I think we had two terms, and I think we
were still on trimester at that point, so a full academic year of humanities. Just
great, absolutely wonderful for someone coming from the South. I had traveled
some, but in those days, travel was a little dicey. You couldn’t stay in most
places. In fact, you could stay in very few places, and you had to look for the
Black parts of town, and there were known motels and rooming houses were you
could stay, restaurants where you could eat. So travel was not very easy. You
could take the train and travel to the North, and that was really very different. So I
had fortunately had those experiences, so I had seen beyond the South. But still,
that was the frame of reference where I would start from. And it was really
interesting to learn about the classics, classical array of disciplines—architecture,
literature.
O: What were your favorite pieces of music or literature?
T: Favorite. I would say—I’ll have to answer that in a minute. There’s something
that’s trying to come back to me that I cannot recall right now, that really spoke to
me. AAHP 077; Taylor; Page 17
O: Because you had mentioned literature earlier, so I was wondering if there were
any particular—or even in terms of the arts and literature, if there were any
writers, or composers, or maybe poets who had an impact on you?
T: Well, it’s an odd answer to give to the question you asked, but I’d have to say
that the most impacting memory that I have, the memory that impacted me most,
was a book, but it was not literature itself, it was a humanities textbook: Art
Through the Ages by Gardner. And I even saw that in a bookstore not terribly
long ago with my granddaughter, and I told her about that. It had a University of
Georgia cover on it, so I told her that’s not legitimate, but the content is still fine.
[Laughter] So, but that exposed me to quite a variety of art and architecture, not
just from Western civilization, but Eastern civilization as well. So, that was a
serving, basically, of ideas, and thoughts, and accomplishment of people,
humans over the years, humankind over the centuries. That really had an impact
on me. And I’m still searching for that piece of literature that really did it for me. I
think—the way my mind works, unless something really stands out, then I have a
general appreciation for the value of a number of things that come together as a
whole. And I think it’s really the whole that I’d say affected me the most. Even
though there are tremendous pieces of literature that I’ve enjoyed over the years
and in my academic career. But it’s the whole experience, the ability to read,
understand, debate, discuss, and go beyond ideas that would ordinarily come up-
-it’s classical education, basically, that I think affected me most.
O: What was your social life like at UF as a student? AAHP 077; Taylor; Page 18
T: Well actually, I was married at the time—or, most of my college career. I married
at seventeen. And we had two kids, thirteen months apart, so we just went right
into that. [Laughter] So, I never actually lived on campus. I was always in the
Gainesville community. My social life was probably a bit different—in fact,
certainly different from that of most students, because I did have to work to bring
income into the household, along with my wife of that time. It meant that I still had
a bit more roots in Gainesville, and kinship in the Gainesville community, not just
because I lived there, but because I had kids, had to get babysitters and things of
that nature. It did mean, though, that my experience with students who lived on
campus, or near campus, was a little different. So, at the end of the day I was out
of there, and had to go back home and attend to that part of life. I found that the
social life was still fun, because I had a lot of interaction with others and lots of
different types of students. I was in band, also, and that helped. Band’s always a
great way to immediately immerse yourself into college and have a group of
colleagues who all share something in common—a love of music, the challenge
of pulling that together to perform effectively. So, I was participating there. And
there were a number of Black student activities at that point—though when I
started, there were, as I recall my count of the students, there were twelve
students out of a population of twelve thousand. The following year, the following
two years, that number grew to maybe a hundred fifty. I’m not really sure, that’s
just a guess. That enabled more points of interaction and all, but I would say I
really connected more as a student as opposed to a Black student, just because
there were so many more students who were not Black, and it didn’t matter. AAHP 077; Taylor; Page 19
White, warm, friendly, easy to get to know. Same thing with the faculty. So, good
social life, good academic life.
O: As you were taking your courses at UF, were you thinking in terms of a career
path at that point, or were you focusing solely on your studies?
T: On the studies, really, because I hadn’t really pinned down exactly what I wanted
to do. I knew that the entrepreneurial flame burned inside me, but I could not
figure out exactly what the nature of the opportunity should be for me. So, I
decided to just enjoy the college experience and I could figure the career part of
that out a bit later. So, I ended up changing majors from pre-med to political
science, thinking that was an area of interest to me—and it was. So, I pursued
that, but I knew I didn’t intend to be a politician. It didn’t strike me as being of
particular value for me—not as a career—but I wanted to understand politics.
Which, one political scientist—boy, this goes way back—David Easton, I believe
it was, defined as the process of determining who gets what when, and how.
That I felt was important to know: to understand how things, at least in the
political sphere, worked. And recognizing it’s also the economic sphere, as well
as well, as both a counterpoint and a backdrop to the political. So I pursued that.
I found it quite interesting and did well. Thoroughly enjoyed that.
O: Were you thinking in terms of—now, you mentioned that you weren’t thinking
politics per se, perhaps, although you were analyzing those things. Were you
thinking of leadership at UF? And at what point did you begin to think about
yourself as maybe a potential leader? AAHP 077; Taylor; Page 20
T: Well I always had, because that’s how I was raised. My father always
encouraged me to undertake—to accept responsibility, and think of myself as
somebody who should be leading. He did it in an interesting way, though; it
wasn’t a matter of “Draw attention to yourself,” but instead, “This is how you get
things done.” It was a matter of being an agent to effect—I can’t really say
change, but to accomplish something. For example, if you are looking at the
church, then the role and purpose of leadership there is different than in the
business arena, academics, et cetera. So, that’s where I think it really came from.
It was always a really natural thing for me to do. Participate, find out how things
really needed to, how things worked in that arena, what things needed to be
done, and then step into a role where I could do that. It wasn’t terribly important
for me to have an office, though, and to hold office. But, if that opportunity is
there and it facilitates getting to a goal? Yeah, that’s fine.
O: When you first entered UF, did you see yourself—or did you imagine, perhaps,
playing a leadership role on campus?
T: Never really thought about it. I was enjoying life as a student, and I think it just
naturally developed because of my background. The background was leadership
on a smaller scale, but I have learned over the years that sometimes being able
to be a leader of a relatively small operation gives you—being at the top, or very
close to the top—gives you a perspective of how the whole works. So, that I had
an advantage of, I had a fair amount of experience in that, and being dropped
into a larger environment with the bigger picture there worked fine. The transition AAHP 077; Taylor; Page 21
wasn’t even a transition; it was the same thing. [Laughter] So, for me that was
easily done.
O: What are the most important leadership positions you feel that you have
undertaken since the time you were a student, and then even beyond UF?
T: Positions—I’d say being Vice-President of Student Government first, and then
being President, were very important roles. But I’d also say being in various
roles, positions in my church—the church of my youth—and high school were
also very helpful. Beyond that, in the business arena, I found that those roles
prepared me for managerial and supervisory capacities, because of the ability to
think beyond the routine, the rules, and understand what the real goals were. To
also think about transformation, because organizations tend to want to optimize
what they do, which I always found interesting because you can over-optimize;
you can get so good at what you do you can’t survive as an organization when
the world around you changes. So I always tell them the intellectual aspects of
that, absolutely fascinating. And then of course, the need for people skills, to
understand human behavior at the individual level and group levels, made it
helpful for me to start out in, let’s say, student government in high school as well
as at UF. And then, put those skills learned to use in other environments.
O: What were your goals as a student government leader at UF? What were you
trying to accomplish?
T: Well, one primary goal was to make student government more relevant to the
students at a time where we were dealing with, as a country, the Vietnam War,
and the way that that tore the country apart. I felt that we needed to start bridging AAHP 077; Taylor; Page 22
the very strong feelings that people had about that; about race, and not just
because it was about race, but it was clear to see that we were much more
effective as a nation and then as a student body—university, actually—if we just
connected on that and moved beyond some of the emotion, much of the emotion
that was associated with it. So helping that along was important. Recruiting of
African-American students, to me, was very important, because there were so
few during that time, and there were so few given the quantity at the schools
coming out who were prepared, that I thought it would really help us to find
students who could enter the university and succeed here. So, we had quite a
few efforts around that. Other than that, the routine of running student
government productions, or oversight of that; it was a different group handling it,
but it was part of student government. But the oversight of quite a bit of money
that came in through fees, student fees, to be sure those were used effectively
and fairly to the different political points of view, that no one was excluded
because their views were unpopular. So, anyway. The objectives were more so
to work our way through that troubling time. It was troubling, with student
demonstrations, there was a takeover of the president’s office one day by Black
students, which turned out to be really interesting.
O: Were you there that day?
T: Yes, but purely by coincidence. I was running for either—I think I was running for
president, I believe, at that time, and I just happened to set up a booth—a table,
really—near the College of Architecture, and was handing out literature and
meeting students there. Routine campaigning. All the sudden, here comes a AAHP 077; Taylor; Page 23
group of Black students, and I thought “Oh, what’s going on?” And they just kind of looked at me and kept going. So I thought, “Hmm.” I had no idea. So I asked,
“What are you guys doing?” They said, “We’re going to Tigert Hall, and we’re going to sit in at the president’s office, and express our dissatisfaction with the things that are being done”—the small number of Black students, and other grievances. So I followed them on a short walk. And I know the president thought that was all orchestrated, and—well it was orchestrated—that I was part of it.
Because they all walked in, and I stood at the door. And he ordered them arrested. You don’t have to arrest the students; just talk to them. But he was a former state Supreme Court justice, Steven C. O’Connell. And in his own way, a very good man, but a man of his time. And that just, the breach of etiquette, for a
Southern judge, was just too much. And he had them arrested. I wasn’t arrested, but I implored him to just talk to them and find out what they want, because I didn’t know exactly, either. I mean, easy to imagine, to speculate about what they wanted to talk about. As I recall, at that point the university had no Black faculty, and all the staff in managerial capacities were White. The larger setting was in the community, Gainesville, everybody who picked up garbage was Black; everybody who drove garbage trucks were White. So I mean, it was just really crazy, looking back on it. And the students were saying, “This is not acceptable.”
And he didn’t want to hear it. When the word got out on that, the place blew up.
And it was the White students who went nuts. [Laughter] Which was really interesting. And you had the Vietnam issue going at the same time. Vietnam, civil rights. And the campus actually exploded. There was some damage, but it was AAHP 077; Taylor; Page 24
mostly it was just students streaming out of class, demonstrations that night,
Tigert Hall—
O: Excuse me, Mr. Taylor. So was the sit-in during your junior year? You were
running for vice-president then? Or was it—?
T: Actually I was in graduate school at that point.
O: Oh okay, when you were in graduate school. I was having trouble kind of bridging
that. So, are you referring to, was that 1971?
T: Yeah, I think it was 1971.
O: Okay, during the O’Connell administration.
T: Exactly. I graduated in August of [19]69, undergraduate. Took some time off,
worked, and then came back to graduate school.
O: Okay. So, it was really—I’ve seen pictures, or photographs. I had a student who
did an exhibit of the demonstrations. It just seemed that there was so much going
on here.
T: Oh, yes, absolutely. And it was encouraging to see that student body got it,
without a doubt. The administration didn’t, because it came close to losing total
control here. Civil disobedience could have become far worse; it could have been
uncivil. But there was not a willingness to talk. And as the result of that, those
students went to jail. They were released later that day, as I recall, and we had a
meeting with those students that evening. But the student body as a whole—and
I’m sure many people in the town—just shut the place down, and gathered out on
University, 13th Street and University Avenue. Huge crowds were out there
saying, “This is not acceptable.” Which is great. AAHP 077; Taylor; Page 25
O: By that time, during the [19]71 demonstrations, or during the sit-in, the initial sit-in
that you described, were you at the time vice-president of the student body at
that time?
T: That’s my recollection. Vice-president, running for president. I was campaigning
at the time.
O: What was the campaign like during this tumultuous period? [Laughter]
T: Actually, a lot fun. Because it was an opportunity to get into the—to visit students
in the living areas on campus, since I’d never lived in a dorm. I had a chance to
go to the dorms, visit students, hold small group sessions, and we’d just talk. And
all the candidates did this. It was how most students got to know the candidates
for office, in addition to reading the Alligator, the newspaper. So, that was just an
opportunity to meet a large number of individuals, and also deal with your
competitors. And sometimes, the folk would be planted. Not a big deal, it’s
politics. So, you knew how all that worked. But most students, actually the vast
majority, had the typical American attitude about politics: “I don’t have time for
that”. Except when it comes to the feelings on Vietnam, Civil Rights, things like
that. Those were uber-issues. But overall, they can take it or leave it with politics.
So, it was fascinating given the opportunity to talk with students about how
student government and political concerns affected them, so that they could
understand, “Yeah, it may be worth your spending a little bit of time, or at least
voting. And look at the candidates, and let’s see who you’ve aligned with, and
vote, and let’s look at the results.” AAHP 077; Taylor; Page 26
O: Now, you mentioned earlier that you had some really kind of marquee issues:
you were trying to build bridges, connect people, bring more African American
students onto campus. Did you have a campaign team of fellow students who
worked with you? And what was the team like?
T: Absolutely. You would think that it was a major political organization, because the
nature of student politics at this university during that time—I guess less so now,
but I don’t know—was more as preparation for a future political career. So, the
people that would participate—not just the candidates, but the handlers, the
publicity managers, the schedulers—all were doing that because they felt, one, a
belief either in the candidate’s positions or whatever, or because it was fun to do;
or, because they had political aspirations. And I found—this was kind of
interesting, because I didn’t know about it until I engaged in student politics—that
a number of students came to school with the explicit purpose of getting into—
well, graduating, going to law school, having a legal career for several years, and
then getting elected to the state legislature. And beyond that, the crème de la
crème would attempt to run for statewide office. So, I happened to see that, and
it’s like, “Oh, how interesting!” And you recall I mentioned earlier, running for
political office was nothing that ever motivated me. So, I could take that or leave
it. I guess I was doing the same thing, but for a different reason. Participating in
the same activities, let’s say, but with a different objective in mind.
O: Yeah. These were folks, they’re students, maybe their parents or grandparents
had done that. AAHP 077; Taylor; Page 27
T: Yes. Right. Exactly. And they knew how that worked. So, for me it was interesting
to see the insider view of politics. And also, the cynicism that many students—or,
people—who were in politics had. That to me was a bit disconcerting when I was
first exposed to it. But then, people are not all alike. So, the cynics would play an
issue, or a difference in opinion, in order to gain votes, or make the opponent
look bad or whatever. But when you’re playing with that kind of opponent, then
you understand what you’re dealing with, you determine how you’re going to do
it. How you would respond to things of that nature. You don’t have to do what
they do. I don’t intend to make any of this seem like it was just underhanded
stuff. No, it’s just politics. And you could see it firsthand. And it was interesting
seeing that connection through to the legislature, and future governors, things of
that nature.
O: People who have attended UF that I’ve spoken with—and I’m relatively new to
the state, myself—they’ll mention the importance of Florida Blue Key. Were you
involved with the organization?
T: Not at all. And interestingly, I had a query from the student body president when I
was vice president—really good guy, I haven’t seen him since: Don
Middlebrooks, who I understand now is a federal judge—who was just a very fair-
minded kind of person. Genuine. Don told me one day that there was some
discussion of Blue Key inviting me to join. There had been discussion of an
invitation. And that he wanted to know whether I would accept it, if invited.
Because one, I don’t know whether that’s how it’s always done, but didn’t want to
end up with my making a big splash of turning it down or anything like that. So, I AAHP 077; Taylor; Page 28
told him, “Well, I really appreciate the honor of the invitation, but it’s not really my
thing.” I wasn’t anti-Blue Key; it’s I just that didn’t see myself as a—
O: Why not?
T: Well, had a family—not just a wife, but a couple kids as well. So, some of the—
this is not the right term, but the ceremony with it—not formal ceremony, but the
drawing tight circles around who’s in didn’t sit well with the way I look at life. The
janitor could be in the circle, too. We need to enlarge it.
O: But probably not a member of Blue Key.
T: [Laughter] Right, right. No, I turned it down. Not with prejudice or anything. I just
said, “No, it really doesn’t fit me. But I do appreciate the invitation.” I thought that
was really great of the organization, and it showed that the group was, as a
group of presumably future leaders of the state, willing to expand. And increase. I
don’t know if any African Americans were in Blue Key by the time I left. Don’t
know. But I never really followed it that closely.
O: Were you a member of other organizations on campus at that time, or maybe
even off? Fraternal organizations?
T: No, in fact, interesting, I hadn’t thought of this, either: I didn’t join any of the
fraternities. And there are several African American fraternities—Black,
historically Black fraternities—that kind of really go after the same candidates to
join. But I had the same reaction there. The exclusivity, the inward-looking to the
group, the inward-facing entity, didn’t appeal to me. I don’t think like that, I don’t
work like that. I wanted to instead not draw tight circles around my cohorts and
all. Because I’ve seen too many talented people who would not be in those AAHP 077; Taylor; Page 29
circles, for all the wrong reasons. So, I thought it made more sense to look at the
larger community and do what we can to develop the talent there.
O: What were your experiences with race relations at UF during those years as an
undergraduate and graduate?
T: I had a great time. Students, I found to be warm and inviting, even thought the
surrounding community was—the rules were still in place that limited what we
could do. And they were starting to break down, which was good. But I never had
any problems. Rarely was there even any discussion of issues that were
anything other than intellectual. So, I mean, there were people who didn’t
necessarily agree with having Black students in schools—in college, or in the
same college. But I mean, it wasn’t a big deal. It was just different. And that was
understandable; since I had grown up in this area, they had not gone to school
with Black students. Some high schools had started to integrate, but it was
beyond the experience of most people. But they were by far the exception. Most
students were just students. And we got along famously. And that’s how I saw
most of the interaction on campus. There were some students, some Black
students, who I thought were particularly Black. [Laughter] I mean, they were
going to make an issue of being Black. And it’s always easy to see, or read,
mistreatment, or snubs or whatever, but over time, people began to realize, “I like
Sue and George, but you know, for some reason these other three students and I
don’t really click.” But what aspect of that is due to race, or culture as a thread
running under race? Who knows? It may just be simple personality. But, one
experience, just one of those little vignettes that I thought was great: a student by AAHP 077; Taylor; Page 30
the name of Larry Jordan, who was on the newspaper staff, the Alligator staff—
from Jacksonville, as I recall—was making a comment to a mixed group of
students, and he said, “Some people don’t like me just because I’m Black.” And a
White student immediately shouted back, “Yeah, and some people don’ t like you
because you’re you.” [Laughter] And he had to laugh, because he had kind of a
challenging personality. I mean, he was a very nice and very capable guy, but he
spoke his mind. So for somebody living in the South, he was more blunt, direct.
Not brutal necessarily, but he was direct. And you just—most people didn’t speak
that way, and didn’t behave that way. And Larry had to laugh, he thought that
was really funny. And that’s, I think, just a good example of the kinds of relations
we had. People could talk, and they could talk civilly. And they could disagree
and go on. Which was great. Very good school, I have fond memories of
attending this school.
O: What was your graduate experience like? Was it a contrast from your
undergraduate years?
T: No, actually not. Graduate studies were really a continuation. The seriousness of
the students, you could see that distinction. But it wasn’t a night-and-day kind of
comparison. The grad students were just simply highly motivated. And their focus
and their organizational ability to make things happen in their lives so that they
could achieve the objectives in graduate school were evident there. But it was
really a lot of fun.
O: How did you pick your program of study in graduate education? AAHP 077; Taylor; Page 31
T: Well, I got my undergraduate degree in Political Science. And during that time, I
had—this is a funny little vignette also—I had one B in my final two years of my
upper division work. And that B was in, I think it was Minority Studies? Something
like that. And how do you explain that? I don’t know. [Laughter] But I was a
dean’s list student, and presidential honor roll student repeatedly. So, I had very
good grades. And then, I was given a national defense scholarship. So, that was
great; I just took advantage of that. I thought it would be good. And went to
graduate school, Political Science here at the University of Florida, with the
objective of getting a PhD. And the program that I was in was a straight PhD
program. There was no master’s conferred. So, I started that. Loved the
instructors, the professors that I had, the research that I did. And the skills that I
learned. That’s where I got really heavy experience with computers. And at that
point, we’re talking mainframes. So, everything was done manually—punchcards
and things of that nature. And again, another vignette: I’ll never forget going in
with my weeks—months of study, actually—of research punchcards, trays of
them, and handed to them a student assistant at the university computing center.
I went and sat down. And as soon as my legs bent, and my buns hit the seat, he
came out with the printout—the old-style computer fan-fold. And I thought, “This
is wonderful! I love this! I don’t know what the heck happened back there, but it
was fast.” [Laughter] I stood there and stumped through it, and looked at all of
the statistical tests that had been run on the data that I had, and I thought, “This
is great. I’m somehow or other going to be hooked into these machines for the
rest of my life.” And it started a longtime love of computing. And the planning and AAHP 077; Taylor; Page 32
thinking that is associated with data gathering and analysis, and simple use of
PCs—or, computers, because there were no PCs at that point. But, yeah. The
graduate studies were excellent. I ended up deciding one day, “I don’t want to
spend my life as a political scientist. I really appreciate the discipline, but that’s
not me going forward.” I didn’t know what was, so at that point, I stepped away,
and went ultimately into a business career. But I thoroughly enjoyed it. Really did.
O: Looking back on your experiences, Mr. Taylor, are there—well, let me rephrase
the question: years forward, as your children became of college age, what were
the things you told them? Say, pieces of advice, as they were beginning to think
about where they might go?
T: I told them to enjoy the experience. Fortunately though, they were around when I
was in college, and they remember things like Wednesday evening concerts by
the symphonic band out in the Plaza of the Americas. So, those are really vivid
kinds of memories for children, and really for students and adults as well;
anybody who attended. Really nice setting, and picnic, and enjoyed that. So, they
remember those kinds of things from that college. So, all I had to do was tell
them, “Choose a place that you like, that’s a lot of fun.” And they made their
choices; neither decided to come to UF, because by that time they had spent
most of their years growing up in Georgia. So, they chose schools in Georgia and
South Carolina.
O: Where did they go? AAHP 077; Taylor; Page 33
T: My daughter went to Berry College in Rome, Georgia. And my son, to the
University of South Carolina, in Columbia. Where, interestingly, Steve Spurrier is
football coach now, and Spurrier was quarterback during the time I was here.
O: Oh, that’s right! Yeah. Yeah.
T: So they did that, and enjoyed their time.
O: Are there other experiences—I know I’ve taken a lot of your time, I really
appreciate it! But are there other experiences, Mr. Taylor, that you’d like to share
about your time at UF, or maybe the impact of the institution on you?
T: Well, really, there are stories I could tell. But ultimately what stands out for me is
that it was a thoroughly enjoyable experience, in spite of what could have been a
stressful time for a Black student. I think how you approach challenges has a lot
to do with that. And I think the lesson there is for us to not be too easily, as Black
people, lured into viewing ourselves as victims. That cult of victimhood is one that
without proper intellectual analysis, I think, can just be purely emotional. If
something bad happens, or it doesn’t even have to happen—if you can think
about something bad that can happen, then it would be easy to say, “Well, they
would never allow this to happen,” or “They’re going to do this to us,” or “They
won’t let you do this, that, or the other.” Whatever, any number of examples of
that. But you never know if you don’t actually get out there and try; if you assume
that you’re being constrained, then you’re constrained, but by your own thinking
and limitations in your thinking. For me, what I saw were no boundaries. It’s a
great place: large university, excellent programs. And get in there and experience
it, and enjoy it. So what I take away from that, is something that I use every day AAHP 077; Taylor; Page 34
in my life, and that is to not bother putting up walls. Just think the thoughts
wherever they go. And they may not turn out to be ultimately correct, verifiable,
useful; but they are thoughts, and you keep them because you never know
where you need to make a leap and pull a thought that came from a thread that
you thought led nowhere, and use it. So, there are just tremendous opportunities
that we have to take advantage of an institution like UF. Whether you’re Black or
any other group. Ethnically, nationally, culturally, it really doesn’t matter. Just
parachute in and figure a way to achieve your objective before you leave. All you
need to do. Hard work, but so be it.
O: All right, Mr. Taylor. Thank you so much.
T: Certainly!
[End of interview]
Audit-edited by: Ryan Morini, August 25, 2017
Final edit by: Ryan Morini, February 18, 2019