When his midwife grandmother lifted
him into the world of the tiny St. James Parish village of Welcome, Louisiana,
she had no way of knowing our nation would be “welcoming” an African-American
history maker. Percy Pierre’s grandmother’s mother was a slave, as were his
other seven great-grandparents. His ancestors would have been proud to know
that he was our country’s first African-American to earn an electrical-engineering
Ph.D.
On
New Year’s Eve 2019, my friend pointed to where he was born on Jan. 3, 1939. The
small house—long gone—is now just a patch of head-high weeds, a seven-iron shot
from the Mississippi River levee. His cousin, Willis Octave, lives 100 yards further
back.
From there, he
escorted me and my grandson Wyatt Wilson to the St. James cemetery where his
parents—Percy Sr. and Rosa Villavaso Pierre and other family members are
buried. We also stopped to read the historical marker of the Settlement of
Freetown, established by former slaves. Three of Percy’s ancestors or relatives
were founders. As Dr. Percy Pierre climbed into the upper echelons of academia,
he remained connected to his roots, embedded in the rich dirt of the
Mississippi Delta.
Percy and I
grew up three states apart in a segregated South. How did our paths cross in western
New York? A mutual friend, Erroll Davis, connected our dots by inviting us in
2018 to his family’s home at the Chautauqua Institute. When I served on the
University System of Georgia Board of Regents, Erroll was its chancellor. Erroll
and his wife, Elaine, have known Percy and his wife, Olga, for decades.
It was
there—under the canopy of trees on that storied campus—where Percy and I walked
and talked. I am forever curious about the lives of others. By our second
conversation, I could tell my new friend was enjoying a storybook life. In his
quiet, reflective way, Percy told how his family moved downriver to New Orleans
when he was 4. Stories of visiting with his grandparents reminded me of summers
on my grandmother’s farm.
While attending
all-black St. Augustine High School, the faculty recognized the future
valedictorian’s gifts. His mentors championed their top student. Full-ride
scholarship offers arrived, including Ivy League’s Amherst and Princeton. Percy
chuckled and told me, “If I had told my
friends that I was going to Princeton, they wouldn’t have known what or where
Princeton was.”
Then Notre Dame
came knocking. Because of football, everyone in Percy’s Catholic circle knew
about the Fighting Irish. In South Bend, Indiana, Percy earned bachelor’s and
master’s degrees. Graduating from Johns Hopkins University with his doctorate
and serving as a White House Fellow in the office of President Richard Nixon launched
Percy on a rocket-ride career. Consider these milestones:- Howard University, dean of College of Engineering
- Alfred P. Sloan Foundation, program officer
- Assistant secretary of the U.S. Army for research, overseeing $12 billion budget
- Acting secretary of the U.S. Army, first African-American to hold that position
- Prairie View A&M University, president
- Michigan State University, vice president of research and graduate studies
- Michigan State University, professor of electrical and computer engineering
- Glenn L. Martin endowed professor, University of Maryland
By now, you’d
think the 81-year-old scholar would be ready to prop his feet on the veranda
railing of his and Olga’s century-old home, which has been featured in Life magazine. Not so for the
history-making native of Welcome, Louisiana. The couple divide their time
between New Orleans and the Washington, D.C. area, where daughters, Kristin and
Allison, live. That also allows Percy to serve as adjunct professor at the
University of Maryland. Percy was born to teach, inspire and do research.
I would struggle
in his engineering class, but I am fascinated with his genealogical research. For
years, Percy has dug through mounds of musty records to trace his lineage back
to his great-great-great-great-grandmother. Theresse, a member of the Macou
Tribe, was captured in East Africa’s Mozambique and transported—in chains—to
lower Louisiana, not far from where her great-great-grandson’s wife delivered
Percy.
What a life.
What a story.
What a book this could be.
dnesmith@cninewspapers.com
