Life in the Palmetto State: Laurence Manning, the early years

In 1972, there were many significant things going on nationally and internationally.

President Richard Nixon not only made a historic trip to China that year, but also this was the year that some of his cronies broke into the Watergate building, home of the Democratic National Committee, and not only burglarized it, but also planted listening devices to gather information that would help his chances of winning his presidential reelection campaign.

He won his reelection bid, but the scandal and coverup would lead to his demise in mid-1974 when on Aug. 9 of that same year, he resigned on national TV.

The Vietnam War was still hot and still raging on in the dense jungles of that war-torn region.

Apollo 17 was the last moon launch and was consequently the last time men walked on the moon.

Last but not least, the movie "The Godfather" was released and smashed box office records with a bang, literally.

Well, those are just some of the interesting things that happened in 1972 on the national stage and beyond. But there was something just as important happening here, in my life and much closer to home.

This was the year that Laurence Manning Academy opened its doors for the first time.

If ever LMA proved an old saying to be true, it did it in fine fashion.

"From small acorns do large oak trees grow."

I remember well the humble beginnings from which this fine school started, and look at it today.

But the bulk of my story runs from 1972 when I entered the fifth grade until I graduated in 1980.

In the fall of 1972, I entered our new school for the first time at the fifth-grade level. The school was not only new for me, but also for a host of other kids and high-schoolers who ranged from the first to the 12th grade.

To be honest, the most impressive thing to begin with was the carpet on the floor, and each room had its own AC/heating units and there were two of them per room.

It had a wide hallway that ran the length of the building and a cross-through hall that ran across the middle portion of it.

The eastern side of the school was for the lower grades, and the western side was for the upper grades.

Of course we had a lunchroom that was set off by itself. Ms. Ardis and Ms. Martin were the lunchroom ladies that I remember throughout my years at LMA.

Of course a new school needed a mascot and fighting colors; however, the name was already decided: John Laurence Manning (1816-1889), for whom the town of Manning was named and the 65th governor of our fine state from 1854 to 1856. He served in the Legislature and was a sitting senator during the Civil War. It was alleged that he was one of the wealthiest planters in the South during this time.

Now, as far as colors and mascots, as you might imagine, while we were taking ideas for those things for us to be known by, there was a group that wanted us to be the Tigers with the predominantly orange display, and there were those that wanted to be called the Gamecocks with the garnet and black they call theirs.

While I don't exactly know how we came about our color scheme, I do remember the emergence of the Swampcat or the winged cat.

It was supposed to be a mythical winged Supercat coming up out of the Pocotaligo Swamp that swooped down and devoured the enemy at will. I always liked our mascot, and I assure no one else has it for their standard bearer.

As I said, my first year was the fifth grade, and Mrs. Julius (Ceil) Eadon was my teacher, a very Southern classic lady who didn't put up with misbehavior and daydreaming. She was strict but fair and got the most out of her students.

Mr. Curtis Lee was our headmaster and was just the man to get the school going.

He was a brilliant man who knew his stuff but enjoyed life. I remember him laughing as much as I remember anything about him. He was distantly related to me, which I thought was cool.

Then the sixth grade came along, and that meant changing classes.

A different room and a different teacher for each subject. I remember stressing out about that. How could I possibly remember all that, but I got through it.

We had a new concept in our day. It was called a study hall. Not even sure if they use those anymore.

I'll tell you how mine was spent.

They had just planted azaleas around the front of the buildings, and several of my classmates and I, by edict of the headmaster, went to the lunchroom and got those 28-ounce glass Coke bottles, filled them up with water and toted them to said azaleas and watered them.

Well, I suppose that got me out of class, so it turned out to be a win.

Then the seventh grade rolled around, and they were putting the finishing touches on our new gymnasium. We had had a basketball team already, but they had played at the National Guard Armory in town up until now. But this year, we would be playing in our own gymnasium. That was pretty exciting.

Unfortunately, our gym was known for only one thing: a sweating floor.

When you talk about home court advantage, we truly had one.

That tile floor would sweat and get so slick that players would slip and splatter against the wall, even our own players.

This was my first year of organized basketball, and I was lost. I gave it everything I had, but I wasn't too good. But I made it through the season.

My eighth-grade year also had some firsts.

They built a new football field and started a junior varsity team, and I played that, too.

We had a varsity team the year before, but you would never guess where the field was. The games were played on that area that used to be the parking lot behind the press box. Not a perfect setup, but here again, home field advantage.

The ninth, 10th and 11th grades were nondescript years, but we did have a nice football field and gymnasium by now. I started playing high school baseball during this time as well. I had not played organized baseball since little league. That endeavor into varsity ball proved to be a challenge as well. But some really good things happened those years as well. The varsity boys basketball team won three state championships back to back. The varsity girls basketball was good, too, and always did well in post-season play.

We did have one hurdle to cross, however.

We almost didn't have a football team my 10th grade season because we only had 22 male students in the ninth through the 12th grade, but we did field a team, and this team showed courage and resiliency in typical Swampcat fashion.

We started the year with 12 players, and unfortunately one got hurt, so we finished the season with 11.

Our sports teams were always competitive, but the academia was always top notch as well. We had a great group of teachers who loved their students and supported us. We could always count on them.

However, on a darker side, we lost two students along the way to horrific car wrecks. It was so sad, and I remember them to this day.

Two young people's lives snuffed out in what was supposed to be the prime of their lives. Many tears were shed over them, I assure you.

Then on a cold night in early November 1979, we got the call that our beloved school had burned to the ground.

Nothing was left, and the tragic thing was, it was arson. Somebody had the gall to deliberately set fire to our school and destroy it. It was the most terrible memory of my life.

But we never missed a day.

Folks, we had classes in the gym with cardboard (refrigerator boxes) as dividers. I assure you it wasn't soundproof, but we persevered. We had to move the boxes around to practice basketball and for games, too.

We eventually had some rooms built for classrooms, and by April 1980, we were in a brand-new school.

So I suppose I could brag that I was some of the first students to attend two brand-new schools and kept the same address and the same footprint.

It was my senior year and it was extremely trying, but Laurence Manning's resiliency came through with flying colors once again.

I am so proud to be an alumnus of the Swampcat world.

Look at where they are today.

I think I am right in saying this, LMA is the largest private school in the state. It offers all sorts of curriculum and athletic opportunities.

And yes, they continue to excel in all of them.

Go Swampcat nation! I love you!

May God bless you.

Lee Reaves Jr. is president of Clarendon County Historical Society.