I first met Jesse Helms many years ago. He was a draft dodger. I was a teen-age guy who enlisted shortly before my 18th birthday in the ending days of World War II. After boot camp I had the good fortune of being assigned to recruiting duty in Macon, Ga. Well, I was not a recruiter. Jesse was. He had some political contacts and managed to get an assignment as a recruiter, with three stripes on his sleeves. Jesse was well known in North Carolina prior to the outbreak of WWII. He was a newspaper reporter and had a commentary on the radio. He also didn’t have enough power to keep out of the military draft. So he volunteered as a recruiter to ensure that he remained in the States.
I was a seaman and got my assignment only because I could touch-type and of course I has a good personality and was a clean-shaven guy. Well, I did have to shave my blonde whiskers a couple of times each week. I didn’t want to tickle the girls.
My job was to type up the enlistment papers of the guys that Jesse recruited. Jesse’s job was to cajole the guys into the U.S. Navy. But he kept counting the days when he could return to Raleigh and his newspaper and radio jobs. This was the days before televisions were in households.
Jesse was a pretty unkempt-looking cat when I met him as WWII was grinding to a halt. I think he had only one navy blue uniform and the piping on it was grungy. I was the model of good looks in clean uniforms that I kept in first-class condition.
But that’s enough on my brief encounter with Cousin Jesse. (We were not kin, but he liked to call many people “Cousin.”)
Now I’ll give you a brief recap of the guy who became known as “Senator No.”
Helms’ foes regarded him as a symbol of the Old South who might be expected to occupy an antebellum plantation scented with magnolia blossoms. Today, if Agnew needs his spirits lifted he should visit the Jesse Helms Center in the Union County college town southeast of Charlotte. The center may be the only museum in America where an Agnew photo occupies a place of honor. It hangs along with smiling, arm-waving glossies of Bush, Reagan, Rockefeller and other esteemed Republicans, and even a few Democrats – including, surprisingly, the arch-liberal Hubert Humphrey.
Initially, some professors at Wingate College fretted that the center and college would be so closely linked that the public might conceive Wingate as “Jesse Helms U.” Those fears have died down because the center has moved off campus to a big house down the road.
The Helms Center stands as a folksy museum to perhaps the most contrary senator of the late 20th century. Helms, who grew up in nearby Monroe, occasionally stopped by the Center. Even today, his warm, gentlemanly voice is present, on a videotape. He apologizes for not being there, but urges guests “to visit a spell.”
The Center’s long-range goal is to become the place where scholars and historians must come to study the political life of the cantankerous conservative from North Carolina. Helms’ Senate papers covering the years 1972-84 are stored there on the third floor of the Wingate College library.
“He is a man of historic importance,” according to John Todd, who became president and executive director of the Helms collection. “When historians study this period, they are going to be looking for people who had important roles. Sen. Helms is a national leader of the conservative movement.”
Some years later the Helms Center was moved off campus and now has its own identity. The college auditorium hosts the center’s annual lecture program, which has included former United nations Ambassador Jean Kirkpatrick and publisher Malcolm Forbes Jr.
Helms often told the story about how during the Depression, the Wingate president stopped by the Helms’ house and invited Jesse to attend Wingate. He told the president he had no money for tuition. “Don’t worry about it,” the president said. “We’ll take a chance on you.”
There have been some high profiles North Carolinians who have served on the center’s board – including former Gov. Jim Martin, who lived in Charlotte.
That’s enough about “Cousin Jesse!”
Barron Mills is a former editor and publisher of The Randolph Guide. He lives in Asheboro.
