The Return of The
Buttonwood School
HowWilmington University helped rebuild a local treasure
H
ad it not been for Eugene and Teel Pe y, a major component of New
Castle’s history would have faded into obscurity.
The Pe ys, lifelong New Castle residents and history preservationists,
helped spur the restoration of the old Bu onwood Colored School.
And now, Wilmington University Library staff are collaborating with the
Delaware Division of Libraries and the New Castle Historical Society
to help the Pe ys digitize and preserve artifacts for display at the school, which has been
turned into a museum.
As part of the University’s involvement in restoration efforts, McCloskey invited the
Pe ys to the University’s “Tasting Freedom” book signing and meet-and-greet featuring
author Daniel Biddle. A endees at the event got the chance to hear the Pe ys share their
experiences of growing up in pre-Civil Rights-era New Castle.
But when they tell their story, it’s not told with the kind of bi erness one might expect
a er years of “separate but equal” indoctrination.
“We never questioned it,” Teel Pe y said of her years a ending an all-black school. “It’s
just where we belonged. It was a great school with great teachers, and we were proud to be
a part of it.”
McCloskey said it was “quite an honor” to have the Pe ys a end the “Tasting Freedom”
event.
“This couple has shepherded the Bu onwood School project through thick and thin for
many years,” said McCloskey.
Eugene Pe y was appointed in 1975 as New Castle’s first black police chief. He retired in
1983. His wife, Teel, has been a New Castle City Councilwoman since 2004. They have eight
children and numerous grandchildren.
Opened in 1924, the Bu onwood Colored School was one of 80 schools financed by
Pierre S. DuPont to teach black children in Delaware. A er it closed in 1955, the school fell
into disrepair.
Teel Pe y spearheaded the campaign to reopen the school. She fervently went a er
public and private funding and searched high and low for the right contractor for the job –
one who would be respectful of the building’s history and integrity.
“There is so much more history that still needs to come out of this era,” McCloskey said.
More information on the school can be found at
Abraham Lincoln had signed his Emancipation
Proclamation. It was now illegal to own slaves.
But the struggle had really just begun. And
Ca o, the authors would learn, was just one of
a “hidden generation” of civil rights leaders who
fought for true freedom and equality in the face
of violence, hatred and oppression.
As Biddle and Dubin went in search of
descendants of Ca o to aid them in their
research, they found Leonard Smith, who had
been exalting his great-great-uncle Octavius to
his own offspring. Smith became an invaluable
resource to the two authors as they combed
through the mountains of material, artifacts
and documents that would become “Tasting
Freedom.”
Smith also was not afraid to point out the
politically incorrect reality of the situation: How
did two white, middle-aged men think they could
legitimately author a book about a young, black
man who lived and died 150 years before them?
Biddle and Dubin took that skepticism to
heart. They would encounter that question
many times over the years of their work. And
they used it to fuel their passion for honoring
the life of Octavius Ca o as best they could.
The authors learned that Ca o and this
“hidden generation” of 19
th
-century civil rights
leaders were collectively responsible for
overturning JimCrow laws, earning blacks the
right to vote, and integrating public transporta-
tion. (Rosa Parks wasn’t the first to do that.) But
it was not without bloodshed, and Ca o found
himself in the thick of it. Like many newsworthy
stories, this one has an edge-of-your-seat ending,
though not the kind of ending anyone would
have wanted.
It was Election Day in 1871, and Ca o was
walking in the middle of a riot around the busy
South Street area near his home. White police
officers and angry Democrats were a acking
blacks to keep them from voting.
“As Ca o walked east, the bandaged man was
looking for more Negroes to hurt, more Negroes
who would not be able to vote that day,” Biddle
read from the preface of “Tasting Freedom.” “He
passed Ca o nonchalantly, but once he was five
steps beyond, the bandaged man turned and
crouched. A young girl at 822 South shouted to
Ca o, ‘Look out for that man!’
“The bandaged man was pulling out his gun.”
“Tasting Freedom” is available
for purchase on Amazon and at
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