Legacy is not leaving something for people.
It’s leaving something in people. 

–Peter Strople (b. 1958. motivational speaker, author, and entrepreneur.

Sometimes, significant historical moments are not known, valued, and understood until time has passed, and future generations look back, reflect, and measure.

Consider, for example, the founding of Massachusetts Bay Colony (1630). More specifically, think about April 8, 1630, when 140 or so Puritans left England on the Arbella, the flagship of the fleet led by John Winthrop, as they sailed away to the New World, seeking religious freedom and hoping for a new life. To be certain, they sailed forth with a clear mission: to establish a colony within the area of New England, “being in the bottom of a certain bay there, commonly called Massachusetts, alias Massachusetts Bay.”

To their chartered mission, Winthrop added a much-needed vision, articulated with great clarity in his sermon, “A Model of Christian Charity,” delivered to the ship’s passengers. In his sermon, he emphasized the principles of Christian charity as well as the importance of unity, selflessness, and community in their endeavor. One passage from the sermon is quoted often:

“The Lord will be our God, and delight to dwell among us, as his own people, and will command a blessing upon us in all our ways. So that we shall see much more of his wisdom, power, goodness and truth, than formerly we have been acquainted with. We shall find that the God of Israel is among us, when ten of us shall be able to resist a thousand of our enemies; when he shall make us a praise and glory that men shall say of succeeding plantations, ‘the Lord make it likely that of New England.’ For we must consider that we shall be as a city upon a hill.” [bold emphasis supplied]

Today, as I look back upon the voyage of those early pioneers and Winthrop’s powerful vision, I am impressed by a profound symbol: “a city upon a hill,” a beacon of hope and light.

Today, in my mind’s eye, I turn my gaze to a different “city upon on a hill,” one that will always stand as a testament to the enduring pursuit of knowledge, character, and community. The city is in West Virginia. There on a hilltop, above the Tygart River and above the town of Philippi–I see Alderson-Broaddus University, whose spirit and pride are commemorated in song:

Far above the winding Tygart
With its banks of green
Stands our noble Alma Mater
Fairest ever seen.

Swell the chorus!
Let it echo
Over hill and dale;
Hail to thee, our Alma Mater,
Alderson-Broaddus, hail.

In our home among the mountains,
With our little town
May we ne’er forget the memories
That still gather ‘round.

Swell the chorus!
Let it echo
Over hill and dale;
Hail to thee, our Alma Mater,
Alderson-Broaddus, hail.

Alderson-Broaddus–a shining “city upon a hill”–boasts a rich Christian heritage cherished by generations of students, faculty, and staff.

Initially, however, it was not located upon a hill. It traces its roots back to 1871 when Reverend Edward J. Willis, a Baptist minister, founded Winchester Female Institute in Winchester, VA. In 1875, the institution was renamed Broaddus Female College in honor of Reverend William F. Broaddus. In the following year, it relocated to Clarksburg, West Virginia.

In 1893, the institution embraced co-education and underwent another name change, becoming Broaddus Scientific and Classical Institute. In 1909, it moved once more, this time to Philippi. Other changes followed. Notably, in 1917, college-level classes were introduced, leading to a new name: Broaddus College and Academy. By 1926, the institution had expanded its offerings to include four-year degree programs. Following the challenges of the Great Depression, the Baptist Conference (sponsor of both Broaddus College and Alderson-Junior College in Alderson, WV) made a significant decision to merge the two institutions in 1932, giving rise to Alderson-Broaddus College.

Just as Massachusetts Bay Colony was a “city upon a hill” to Colonial Americans and their families who remained behind in England, so, too, Alderson-Broaddus College was the college on a hill, a beacon of light and hope to all of its students and their families from all over the United States and, eventually, from countries all around the world.

It became a beacon of hope and light for me in 1965 when I was a senior in high school, beginning my college search. I applied to the University of Richmond and to Marshall University (my first choices), as well as to Alderson-Broaddus College (my fallback choice). Ironically, Alderson-Broaddus offered me a scholarship package too attractive to resist, though I tried my best to do so. As if to convince myself that I would not pursue my education at my third choice, I decided to prove the point to myself by making a college visit.

I will always remember that summer day when we drove on campus and I caught a glimpse of Old Main, the college’s iconic, landmark building, constructed in 1909 as a four-story building with two wings. It was built of locally fired brick over locally quarried stone, paid for with monies raised by the citizens of Philippi.

I stood there on the hilltop plateau–in front of two canons on the site that marked the first land battle of the Civil War–looking below to the winding Tygart River spanned by a covered bridge and looking beyond the river to the little town of Philippi, seat of Barbour County.

As I stood there, beneath the expansive sky and surrounded by the serene beauty of the campus, a profound sense of peace and belonging washed over me. In that timeless moment, as the sun cast a warm glow upon the college upon a hill, I felt an undeniable connection. It was as if the very essence of the place whispered to my soul, assuring me that I had found my home.

Indeed, it was my home from the fall of 1965 until the fall of 1969 when I graduated cum laude with a Bachelor of Arts Degree, with a major in the Humanities and a concentration in English Literature. Just now, I nostalgically opened an envelope containing a copy of my transcript, released to me in February 1983. I had forgotten that I earned 125 semester-hour credits with a GPA of 3.48. I had forgotten that I passed my Comprehensive Examination with distinction. As I folded the transcript and returned it to its cacheted envelope, I noticed to the left of the postmark an affirmation (stamped in red, just as the words of Christ are printed in red-letter editions of the Bible) that captures with great power and brevity the guiding principle of Alderson-Broaddus:

A CHRISTIAN COLLEGE EXPERIENCE IS NOT EXPENSIVE–It Is Priceless!

I knew during my four years as a student at Alderson-Broaddus that I was being molded and shaped into the person that I was becoming. The transformation was taking place in every aspect of my being: intellectually, spiritually, socially, physically, psychologically, and even existentially.

Looking back–especially as an educator–I smile, saying to myself: “Of course. An education always transforms lives. Of course. At the heart of Alderson-Broaddus College were its faculty, administrators, staff, and students–always exemplifying the highest level of excellence.”

Looking at my freshman yearbook, The Battler, I see anew that the lives we lived on the Alderson-Broaddus campus were rich, robust, and celebratory. The “Foreword” touches my heart even today:

The spirit of A-B is many things–the beauty of our hilltop, the warmth of friendship among students and faculty, the tradition of Homecoming and May Weekends, the sportsmanship of athletic activities. But most of all, the spirit of Alderson-Broaddus is people, those of us who live and work and strive to reach the tomorrows of which we dream.

As I journey through the pages, pausing to look at all the photographs, memories come back as vividly and as alive as if I were reliving them now, all over again.

● Organizations. Student Government. Student Union Board. Men’s and Women’s Dorm Councils. Columns (newspaper) Staff. Battler Staff. WCAB (radio) Staff. Student Education Association. Student Religious Education Association (SREA). Kappa Delta Chi (KDX). Alpha Beta Nu (ABU). ZAG. Choir. Management Club. International Club. Megaphone Club. SMENC.

● Homecoming Weekend with the queen and her court as well as the student production of Jean Anouilh’s Antigone. Pageantry and parades and prizes.

● Faculty, Administration, and Resident Directors, all of whom I knew, several of whom mentored me as a Work-Study Student and as a Resident Hall Counselor, most of whom I had the privilege to study under in various divisions: Humanities, Business and Professional Studies, Natural Science, and Social Sciences.

● Students, by Class. Seniors. Juniors. Sophomores. Freshmen. So many of them, my friends, so close and so personal that they seemed like my very own brothers and sisters. Tucked in amongst the pages, an 8 x 11 glossy photo of me as a freshman standing proudly with my 32 fraternity brothers and our advisor, all of us wearing jackets and ties. We look as spiffy and smart now as I thought we did then.

● Sororities, Fraternities, and Clubs. Alpha Omega Delta. Chi Sigma Nu. Phi Kappa Delta. Epsilon Tau Eta Sigma. Lambda Omega Mu. Sigma Delta Nu. Circle K. Circle Ketts.

● Sports. Varsity Coaching Staff. Soccer. I-M Football. Basketball. Wrestling. Baseball. Softball. Ping-Pong.

● Activities. Freshman Week with Hazing, Capping, Talent Show, and Kangaroo Court. Sadie Hawkins Day. Crowning Miss Battler. Valentine Dance. Student production of The Fantasticks. SMENC sponsored Arts Series, featuring acclaimed pianist Bonnie Joenck, the Ballet Chafee Company, and The Bishop Players performing St. Joan. Christian Emphasis Week. May Day Royalty. Student production of Oscar Wilde’s The Importance of Being Earnest. Honors Convocation. Junior-Senior Banquet at Blackwater Falls. Senior Seminar. Alumni Banquet.

Aside from all of those yearbook highlights, something else looms in my mind larger than a giant. At the end of my first semester, I was waiting for the bus to take me back home. I had worked incredibly hard all semester, but deep down inside, I was feeling that perhaps I would not become the first in my family to go to college after all. I just wasn’t certain that I was college material. I had worked especially hard in my Honors English class, but I was even uneasy about its outcome. How’s that for a guy whose dream since the third grade had been to become an English professor? My honors English professor was well aware of my angst. As I waited for the bus, she drove by in her station wagon and stopped fast when she saw me there. She hopped out, gave me a hug, and told me that I had earned an “A” in the class. She did not care at all that she had been cleaning house and that she was at her disheveled worst. Her only concern was to share the good news with a more-than-anxious student. Little did she know—though, afterwards I made a point of telling her—that when she stopped that day to share the good news, she kept me (the son of a West Virginia coal miner and his wife, a fundamentalist preacher) from becoming a college dropout.

Several other moments loom large in my memory, too. Aside from the strengths of its academics and activities, Alderson-Broaddus required two off-campus experiences. I had the option of studying in Austria or in Mexico, but I chose to take another path by pursuing two internships, both in Washington, DC. I had never lived in a city before, and I was convinced that our Nation’s capital was calling me. My first internship was with the late Senator Robert F. Byrd (West Virginia). The second was in the Division of Two-Year Colleges at the former Department of Health, Education, and Welfare. As that internship came to an end, my supervisor suggested that the Library of Congress might be the perfect place for me to work as an editor. He was the one who nudged me to Capitol Hill to submit an employment application. Without his influence and without Senator Byrd’s recommendation, I would never have enjoyed my twenty-five-year career at the world’s premier research library.

After that career, I finally became the Professor of English that I had always wanted to be, teaching for twenty-three years at Laurel Ridge Community College (formerly Lord Fairfax Community College) in Middletown, VA. My Ph.D. in American Literature gave me the necessary in-depth subject matter knowledge. Equally important, however, I tapped into a golden nugget that I had mined as an undergraduate at Alderson-Broaddus. It was something that I remembered from Gilbert Highet’s The Art of Teaching, a book that I read in one of my education classes:

Know your subject; Love your subject.

Know your students; Love your students.

Those lines became the cornerstone of my teaching philosophy. The approach is a simple one, but it is honest and sincere, and my students respond affirmatively. It’s an approach that I owe to Highet specifically but to Alderson-Broaddus generally because of what I saw in the faculty there. In them, I saw traits that I believed effective educators should embody. They were student-centered and celebrated student successes. They were passionate about their disciplines. They never hesitated to be academically rigorous and to raise the bar high. They were effective communicators and listeners. I came to realize ultimately that although they might not have talked about Highet, they had impressed me because of their knowledge and love, of subject and student. I wanted to be like them. It is little wonder that Highet struck a chord in me.

Clearly, Alderson-Broaddus was a major influence in my life. Clearly, I am grateful for my four years being a part of that “city upon a hill,” my beacon of hope and light.

I take great pride in sharing my story of how Alderson-Broaddus touched me, transformed me, and helped make me who I am today. At the same time, I am joyed in knowing that similar stories could be told by every student who had the privilege of studying there, by every student who went forth and pursued their own careers in their own respective walks of life, by every student who went forth into their corner of the world, prepared and poised to be change agents in others’ lives.

Alderson-Broaddus’ impact is so profound and so far reaching that when the university officially announced its closing, effective Friday, September 1, 2023, because it lacked sufficient income to remain open any longer, I wept not.

Without a doubt, a long and heavy sadness fell upon me. But it was washed away as I recalled my four years at my alma mater, my “city upon a hill,” far above the winding Tygart. It was washed away as I reflected on generations of lives changed because they chose Alderson-Broaddus. It was washed away as I reflected on all the dedicated faculty, administrators, and staff who served selfishly, tirelessly, and with commitment.

Alderson-Broaddus has closed its doors, and its history has come to an end. However, the legacy of transformation, knowledge, and unwavering commitment to excellence will live on in the hearts and minds of every student who had the privilege of studying there. The city upon a hill has dimmed its lights, but its beacon of hope will forever shine in the countless lives it has touched and the countless futures it has shaped.