Hope is faith holding out its hand in the dark. – George Iles
It was all Jairy C. Hunter Jr. had. He embraced it, challenged it, questioned it, looked through the dark clouds above and, because of it, saw blue skies in the offing.
It was hope.
Now, 25 years after accepting the enormous responsibility of reviving a college “on the brink,” whenever the Charleston Southern University president is asked about those dark days in 1984 he is reminded of the power of hope — that, and the faces.
“You come in here everyday and see the purpose of the institution, and the faces of all these good people; it grabs you,” said Hunter.
Hunter found the faces impossible to ignore. They were everywhere on campus: classrooms and offices, events and gatherings. Day and night, at home, work, Sunday worship services, fundraising along back roads of small towns across the state. Each face an inspiration, more fuel for hope.
In the spring of 1984 everyone connected with the college was looking for a reason to believe, a glimmer of hope. With good reason, there wasn’t much of anything else.
One month before Hunter was named president, in April 1984, the News and Courier reported the Baptist College (now Charleston Southern University) was $4.5 million in debt ($2.7 million for the chapel construction and $1.8 million in various loans). With no cash flow, no money in reserve, the college slipped deeper into debt, falling “two payments behind on all the original buildings” and within the first six months of Hunter’s presidency, the school slumped into financial exigency.
“Scary,” Hunter said. “There were some severe financial situations.” He made his point, repeating the phrase again, the second time more deliberately with intense emphasis on each word, “Severe … financial … situations. There was no cash anywhere.”
Stubborn hope
Hope begins in the dark; the stubborn hope that if you just show up and try to do the right thing, the dawn will come. You wait and watch and work: you don’t give up. – Anne Lamott
Doubt is effortless, easy.
Hope is exceedingly more challenging. Hope requires patience. Hope is clinging to belief even while others bail out on a difficult situation. Hope demands selflessness. Hope can be a lonely place. Hope is the road less traveled; the road Hunter chose when he accepted the position.
He worked and hoped, hoped and worked, then tirelessly worked some more with a hopeful spirit. Besides, he had his diamond in the rough, his saving grace; a brand new chapel was being erected right in the middle of the campus.
“I looked out my window one day and thought to myself, ‘Now this is a blessing, to have that beautiful building,” said Hunter. “It’s going to be a signature building.”
The feeling of being blessed passed – quickly. Not long after assuming his role, President Hunter arrived on campus early one morning and was approached by two men asking to “see the main man,” said Hunter.
“What do you want to see the main man for?” he asked the unfamiliar faces.
Both men, contractors hired to work on the chapel replied, “We need our money.”
President Hunter assured the workers, “If I see the main man, I’ll tell him you’re looking for him.”
Hunter walked directly into the business office on the lower level of Jones Hall. The office was desolate, except for the files that sat stacked on the desks.
“At that time there wasn’t a business officer,” said Hunter. “Both he and his wife resigned.” He dove into the records. Bills, bills, bills and one nondescript card box was left behind.
“It had donors’ names that, over a period of several years had made pledges to help build the chapel which totaled up to $1.6 million in pledges, but cash, not much had come in,” remembers Hunter.
Minutes later, Hunter was in his car, on the road.
“I started calling every single one of those people,” he said. “I stayed on the road everyday for about 10 days. We had to do whatever we had to do to keep the lights on.”
Two weeks and one-half million dollars later Hunter returned to Charleston, still more than one million dollars short on what was originally pledged.
“We knew it was bad, but we didn’t know how bad,” said Dr. Ken Bonnette. “It wasn’t until after Jairy arrived and started opening some closet doors that things just started falling out. They just kept coming, they kept coming and coming … everyday we’d deal with a new crisis.”
Tired, yes. Beaten, no. Hope was still alive.
‘ This is the one’
Hunter’s tenacity and business acumen were what provoked Dr. Bob Cuttino to pick up the phone. Cuttino was a childhood neighbor back in Lancaster, South Carolina, and a trustee at the Baptist College in the spring of 1984. He had kept tabs on Hunter’s career for nearly 30 years.
“Actually, I thought he was calling to ask me for some recommendations,” said Hunter. “I told him I really didn’t know anyone who would be qualified to be a president of a church-related school.”
“No, I’m talking about you,” said Cuttino.
Hunter backpedaled. “Frankly, I wasn’t that attracted because I felt I had a very good job,” Hunter remembered. He was vice chancellor of development and business at the University of North Carolina Wilmington.
Cuttino asked Hunter to send a resume, and the committee would review it. Hunter agreed. The field quickly narrowed from 45 applicants to five finalists, including Hunter. Despite the absence of presidential experience in higher education, on paper Hunter was an impeccable candidate. At UNC Wilmington, he served six years as the vice president for business affairs and development.
“We desperately needed a couple things,” said Bonnette, who was one of two faculty members on the presidential search committee in 1984. “We needed somebody who had business savvy and could right the ship because of financial problems. That was very critical. Second, we needed someone who could raise money.”
The search committee was chaired by William H. Seals and was comprised of Dr. Bonnette and faculty colleague Carol Drowota, trustees Robert E. Cuttino, W.F. Whitfield, Charlene Kirk, Mildred Bomar and James P. Craine; a 1972 BCC graduate – Larry Cannon. One-by-one, the committee checked off on Hunter’s credentials.
Business savvy.
Check.
Fundraising.
Check.
“We were looking for someone who was young and energetic because we knew that the burdens were going to be really heavy,” added Bonnette. “It had to be someone who had an energy level who could sustain these two offices [business and fundraising].”
Check. Check.
“We wanted someone who was an active Baptist,” he continued. “He met the criteria. He had a Ph.D. from Duke University. He had respect immediately from faculty and staff.”
Check. Check.
When Hunter arrived at the Baptist College with his wife, Sissy, in May 1984 he quickly realized the grass was greener in Wilmington. As a matter of fact, the BCC grass wasn’t green at all. Truth was you couldn’t see the grass on campus. It was overgrown in weeds and hadn’t been cut in weeks, maybe months.
“The campus was quite disturbing,” said Hunter. He would use the words “sadness” and “forlorn” to describe the eyesore he saw on his first visit. Piles of uncollected trash, rundown mobile units behind the library building, paint-starved dorms and buildings, mildewed walls, ragged carpeting, parking lots full of potholes and an overbudget, unfinished chapel.
“It was not an attractive situation,” said Hunter.
The first four finalists had already interviewed. Hunter was the final candidate. Everyone on the search committee was “leaning toward another candidate.” For Bonnette at least, the interview seemed like a formality – until Hunter spoke.
Bonnette said he remembers Hunter’s words as if it was yesterday.
“Every institution talks about academic excellence, nobody says they don’t favor academic excellence,” said Bonnette, quoting Hunter. “The thing about a Christian university is why they favor academic excellence. They do it to honor God, and, if you’re going to do something to honor God, it has to meet the highest standards.”
Hunter told the committee, “If you’re turning out accountants, you want to turn out people with the highest ethical and moral values.” He then turned to Bonnette and spoke directly. “If you’re turning out chemists, people studying premed, if you’re honoring God you’re turning out the very best. Our obligation as a Christian institution is to meet higher standards than the other institutions. Not just equal to, but higher, because it is to honor God.”
Bonnette turned and looked at colleague Carol Drowota. He whispered, “That’s it! That’s what it’s all about right there. That was the clincher.”
The board asked Hunter to leave the room for a few minutes. “We decided then — this is the one,” said Bonnette.
Meanwhile, Hunter wasn’t so sure. What he saw and heard countered all human instinct. His business instincts told Hunter no. His ego said no. His pride said no.
As the Hunters drove out of Charleston on I-95, Sissy turned and asked, “Did I have any ‘feelings’ about the interview,” remembers Hunter.
“Yes, it was kind of frightening,” he told her.
After a couple hours of silence driving on I-95, Hunter said he realized he “had not answered that question properly. She was referring to, did I have any ‘feelings’ like wanting to help the school,” he said. “Then I began to comment that, ‘yeah, I had some feelings today.’”
“Well, if they are interested in asking us to come there, we probably ought to help them,” added Mrs. Hunter. “They are looking for somebody that has an academic background, a business background, fundraising background, teaching experience, a South Carolina native and a Baptist. It just seems like you’re the one they’re looking for.”
“Oh, I didn’t see it that way,” said Hunter.
Jairy and Sissy decided, if the Baptist College made an offer, they would accept the challenge. A simple promise, a huge responsibility and a personal sacrifice: long days, weekends, thousands of miles traveling from one small South Carolina town to another to recruit students, raise funds, build relationships one handshake at a time and calm fears one promise at a time.
There were no guarantees. It would take honesty, trust, hope and, more than anything, faith. Hunter’s personal commitment was to serving God first, then convincing alumni, friends and business leaders to have faith in him – and Him – that the University was worth the investment.
“I guess what was going on was providential,” Hunter said. “I honestly didn’t realize it, but the Lord was preparing us and moving us toward this assignment. I was primarily looking at it as a professional assignment. As it turned out, it was more than that.”
On May 17, 1984, by a unanimous vote of the Search Committee, the Baptist College named Jairy C. Hunter Jr. president. He left the powder blue skies of North Carolina and headed south for a deeper shade of blue, a hint of gold and the hope of a silver lining.
Pruning
Every branch in Me that does not bear fruit, He takes away. And every one that bears fruit, He prunes it so that it may bring forth more fruit. – John 15:2
The trustees were called to campus on an early December morning in 1984. Hunter delivered the news to the 24 of 25 in attendance: financial exigency would be declared.
“It was the worst day of our lives,” said Bonnette. “Disaster. Worst it could be. The decision was made that we had to terminate 40 people. We had to call them in and tell them that December 31st was going to be their last day.”
In the end, the reductions of personnel and academics programs represented more than a one million dollar cut in operating budgets. The decision allowed the Baptist College to stay in business.
“Now, that was bad, but it wasn’t the worst in my mind,” said Bonnette.
The meeting closed. The mood was somber. No one was in a celebratory mood. That same afternoon, as letters were being prepared to inform 40 employees of their termination, the same campus leaders who made that fateful decision walked across campus to attend the dedication of the new chapel.
“The chapel symbolized the new growth, the new institution,” said Bonnette. “The chapel was what we stood for. That morning we declared financial exigency and 40 people had to be let go and that afternoon we had to go through, this is a shining moment, it is our turning point to move forward. That was hard. It shaped us. We operated under the idea that we’re not going to let this happen to this institution again.”
The weeklong celebration was highlighted with former Governor Robert McNair speaking at the dedication ceremonies. Two days later, NASA Astronaut Dick Scobee and his wife, Dr. June Scobee, a Baptist College graduate, presented items taken on the flight of The Challenger earlier in the year.
Hundreds of people from across the state came to rejoice with the college on the dawning of “a new era” of reassurance and reaffirmation. The $3.8 million building was 54,000 square feet and the music building another 17,000.
The celebration offered little solace to Hunter and his colleagues. In an interview with the local media, he stated the cold, hard facts.
“We have a financial crisis,” said Hunter in a December 14 published report in the News and Courier. “I’m not going to sit here and let it happen. We are going to work to bring the deficit down and avoid bankruptcy. The news is that we’re dealing with it and making progress.”
In Secrets of the Vine, Bruce Wilkinson writes: “Sometimes we can go through things and wonder what is going on, we’re living obedient faithful lives, trusting in God, knowing Him, reading the Word, yet things are hard and times testing. Take heart. You are being pruned to create more and more fruit. Pruning involves cutting and breaking of branches. That can hurt. But growth comes.”
And, growth was coming.
The Burger King Meetings
Early last fall, Baptist College at Charleston was in such poor shape that its new president said only a series of miracles could save it. – News and Courier, August 4, 1985
Sometimes at night or on weekends Hunter and Bonnette mutually agreed to meet halfway between their homes to discuss strategy. That point was the fast food restaurant, Burger King.
“Dr. Hunter would grab a napkin, and he’d sketch out what the plans we’re going to be on the napkin,” said Dr. Bonnette. “If you were to check my files over the years you would find lots of napkins in there, simply because that’s how we did it.”
Bonnette claims it was during the course of one of those early Burger King meetings that he first saw a glimpse of hope. “The plan for survival, stability and excellence, that was a napkin,” he said. “When I saw on the napkins, I knew. We came back to campus with those napkins and that was the plan. Then we started filling in the details.”
Survival. Stability. Excellence. That was the plan. After the announcement to declare financial exigency but before the meeting adjourned, Hunter revealed the plan to the board of trustees. It was a three-stage vision to move the college forward. Little did the trustees know, it was born on a napkin.
On another napkin, at a later Burger King meeting, Hunter and Bonnette laid out the foundation for excellence early. They decided, on a napkin, “it was going to be education and business,” said Bonnette. “We decided that – napkin. He’d [Hunter] sketch something out, then he’d pull another napkin and he’d add to that and we’re trying to keep them all straight so we can get them all back to the campus – because this was our plan.”
The plan worked. By May 1985, the end of the fiscal year for the school, the Baptist College was operating with a balanced budget. Public trust was restored. Financial support was growing. Enrollment was increasing. Morale was improving after the college received a “strong vote of confidence” from the South Carolina Baptist Convention, retaining the college’s accreditation.
“We got the miracles we needed,” Hunter told the Post and Courier in 1985. “Miracles do happen, if people are truly doing what they ought to be doing, if they’re doing what God wants them to do, then they are open for miracles. I think Baptist College found out what it needed to be doing and now it’s doing it. And miracles are happening.”
Enrollment increased again in 1985. Debt was paid off. Expenses were down. Hunter and the Baptist College were beginning to see daylight. “By the end of the second year we actually got in the black and for 21 consecutive years we operated that way.”
Despite all the stress and politics, the strife and debt, Hunter said he never considered walking away. “I made a commitment,” he said. “I told the board I would stay three years. I knew things were difficult, but I didn’t realize they were as difficult as they became. But I really believed that at the end of the three years I’d go back to the system [North Carolina].”
The Hunters agreed to stay three more years.
“Three years was up like that,” said Hunter, snapping his fingers. “After three years, everyone is looking around, and they’ve got some hope. Things were moving forward. Enrollment was good.”
Bearing Fruit
On a mild, sunny September morning Charleston Southern University president Jairy C. Hunter stood on the stage, of all places, Lightsey Chapel Auditorium, to accept the Order of the Palmetto, the highest civilian honor in the state of South Carolina, for his 25 years of service.
Hunter and the chapel have been together since Day One. Almost 9,000 days now separate the CSU president from the News and Courier report that described the Baptist College as a school “fighting for its life, crushed beneath the weight of runaway debt and declining enrollment.”
Hunter was on the chapel stage, a place he described 25 years earlier as “… a blessing, a beautiful, signature building.” A facility he fought desperately to keep, the site of his inauguration in 1986 when former trustee and presidential search committee chair William H. Seals said, “As Dickens said of the French Revolution, they were leaderless, the people were in despair, the people were without direction, – and so it was here at Baptist College to some degree. Jairy Hunter came here and accepted the challenge. It was the worst of times, but Jairy Hunter made it the best of times. He took the challenge as we gave it, and today we have made tremendous progress from those dark days of 1984.
“We were somewhat in despair but he gave us hope. Through hope this College has now grown back into pre-eminence and it is my vision that somewhere, someday, Jairy Hunter will go down in history as having been an integral part of the growth of Baptist College. Of making it what it ought to be and what it should be and what it can be,” said Seals.
Yes, hope.
Check.
(as published in CSU Magazine)
