WHQR's Sunday Edition is a free weekly newsletter delivered every Sunday morning. You can sign up for Sunday Edition here and find past editions here.
An apology from the editor's desk

Several weeks ago, I wrote about how apologies can be tough, especially for public figures (or people thrust into the public spotlight). Well, this week it’s my turn, because I owe an apology to Woody White, a longtime Wilmington conservative leader who currently sits on the boards of the UNC system and the New Hanover Community Endowment.
Here’s why:
Earlier this month, Vance Williams, an outspoken Black community leader, posted the above photo of White on Facebook with the caption, “Never forget. People refused to comment on this behavior even though everybody saw it and felt it. This level of disrespect can never happen again.”
The photo is from a 2018 event at Williston Middle School, marking the 50th anniversary of the assassination of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. The event had a special resonance with Wilmington’s Black community because King had been slated to speak at a voter registration rally at Williston — known as the “Greatest School Under the Sun” — on April 4, 1968. He instead stayed in Memphis to support a strike by sanitation workers and was murdered that evening.
Several prominent Black leaders — I’m pretty sure I recognize Judge James Faison, Commissioner Jonathan Barfield, and Pastor Rob Campbell — along with school board chairman Ed Higgins, who is white, appear in the photo. Their arms are linked, mid-song.
White, a county commissioner at the time, stands slightly apart, hands crossed in front of himself. The image was made starker by the contrast between White’s light grey suit and the black suits of the men next to him.
When I saw Williams’ post, I remembered the uproar at the time, and in general what a tense and emotional time it was in Wilmington’s Black community. I remembered getting angry emails that media outlets (including Port City Daily, where I was assistant editor at the time, and the StarNews) had apparently avoided publishing this particular image.
I replied to the post, “I’ve never forgotten. What a scene.”
I did this while rushing to get ready for work, and — at that moment — I’d embarrassingly forgotten that I had actually spoken to White about the photo. We’d met over a couple of beers to talk off the record about a number of local issues, and the photo had come up. White had told me his version of events — and we both recall me laughing and saying I understood what had happened. (Why laugh? I’ll get to that in a minute.)
Firing off a quick response to the post online was thoughtless and unprofessional.
And although my intentions were not malicious the impact of my post was hurtful. I apologized to White privately, but I thought it might be worth saying something publicly, as well. Not just because I commented in an effectively public forum, but because the photo is still making the rounds. The best option for me was probably to have said nothing, but since the cat is out of the bag, the next best thing is to add some context.
So, here goes.
In an email to me earlier this week, White recalled what had happened:
[Then District Attorney] Ben David asked me to speak on the presence of law enforcement, and said that he was limited in what he could say, given the tension his office was experiencing in the black community. In addition to agreeing to say something about that, I also recall making comments about MLK and that he was to be in Wilmington the week he was killed in April of 1968. I do not recall my exact comments, but I’m pretty sure I said something like that. Maybe there is a video of the event that would substantiate what I said.
But more important than whatever comments I made that day, I was proud to be there, as I have studied Dr. King’s works all my life - not as a recent convert to the ‘white privilege’ and ‘systemic racism’ bullshit that permeates race conversations today, but instead as a sincere admirer of what he did to alter the course of history.
I brought my wife and daughter to the event and they sat on the front row. It was important to me that my daughter, especially, be there. She was a student at New Hanover High and I wanted her to witness the ceremony of honoring one of America’s heroes.
I recall when the song began to play. I had enjoyed some time and conversation with Judge Faison earlier, but when it began, Ed Higgins was next to me. I had known Ed for 25 years. I did not like him, nor his disagreeable personality, did not respect his style of leadership at the NH Co. School System, and opted against holding his hand. It felt awkward and I did not think about it past that, but I did smile and sing along as best as I could.
If you’re wondering what White and I could have to laugh about, there's definitely this: whatever our disagreements, we both disliked Higgins. A lot.
I had spent years reporting on the systemic problems of sexual abuse, intimidation, harassment, and mismanagement in New Hanover County Schools — issues that led to criminal investigations, arrests, and multiple civil suits — and I had no love for the district’s top officials. As a board member since the mid-90s, and chairman when I started reporting, I felt Higgins played a role in stonewalling the press. And under his leadership, the district administration not only worked to deflect and discredit journalists — they at one point tried to get me fired, or at least pulled off the beat.
White and Higgins might have both been white Republican members of the local establishment, but White struck me as being cut from a different cloth. At the moment, caught on film, White had made the same choice I might have and he got a lot of fairly nasty threats and messages for his trouble. So, yes, I'm able to commiserate.
All of that to say, I should have reflected on my conversation with White before replying to Williams’ post. Again, I could have added some context — or I could have just said nothing. Instead, I helped nudge along what White, I think rightly, called “a false narrative.” People can obviously disagree with White's policies and think what they want of him; White has said many times he expects political criticism. But it shouldn't be based solely on a decontextualized photo, and I shouldn't play a role in perpetuating that lack of context. I ought to be better than that, and if I fall short, it’s incumbent on me to at least own up to it.
Letters to the editor

We welcome letters to the editor’s desk on any topic. Our ideal length is around 400 words or less, but if they need to be a little longer, that’s fine. We reserve the right to edit or add context when necessary. We ask that submissions come with your name and where you live (no street address necessary, just your neighborhood, town, city, etc.). Criticisms are welcome, but we ask you to try to keep it civil.
This edition’s letter comes from Wilmington resident Bill Ouzer, who wrote with the subject line, "I paid for the microphone, Mr. Green."
I'm frustrated by the county school board wearing the halo of parental involvement. I pay school taxes just like every property owner who has never had children. If disenfranchising me is standard practice, I want an exemption.
I spent a career in local government and politics. School boards are where smart, concerned people go for a 4-year adventure in lobotomy.
Take the same person on a City Council, a County legislature, or even a state legislature and they can leave their gloves on and still count.
I am big on public education. Parents’ Bill of Rights or some member conjuring a parent who hates a book they have not read and likely could not independently understand, misses the point.
It's not the children of parents who are educated. It's the community's children. And in that, I ought to have a voice. I am not lesser because I have no kids.
And yes, the NHCSB, has always driven me crazy because they self-identify as glorified library and classroom bulletin board monitors.
I am unconvinced that guiding 4th graders through a Potemkin Village of historical attractions is a better use of time than oversight, capital planning, benchmarking, enabling vertical and horizontal communication within an organization and informing a planning horizon beyond the next fatuous attack on Dr. Seuss.
The title of Ouzer’s letter comes from one of Reagan’s sassiest moments, a famous quip during the 1980 primary where Reagan undercut efforts by George H.W. Bush to narrow the field by bumping four candidates out of a GOP debate.
The reference is, Ouzer told me, to the idea of who gets to speak in public and who doesn’t. In this case, not during a debate in New Hampshire but at school board meetings in New Hanover County.
I’ve heard it argued — by both liberal and conservative advocates at times — that having kids in the public school system is an unofficial prerequisite to weighing in on issues (or running for office).
But, as Ouzer notes, there are plenty of people paying county taxes who don’t have kids in the public system (state tax is another issue, as North Carolina's controversial Opportunity Scholarship lets some per-pupil funding travel with a student if they leave the public system – but residents with no kids at all, for example, are still basically paying into the system).
I appreciate the deeper note Ouzer sounds here, which is that public schools help shape the next generation — which will impact all of us.
Editorial endnotes
A couple of things here on the way out:
I’ve got a gig in Kalamazoo: Earlier this month, the Stryker Johnston Foundation announced that William Buster – the former CEO and president of the New Hanover Community Endowment – would be its new executive director. The Foundation serves the community of Kalamazoo, Michigan, where it works to “change the systems and structures that create intergenerational poverty, particularly among Black people, people of color, and other communities that have been left out and left behind.”
Buster’s no stranger to Kalamazoo, having worked there during his time with the W.K. Kellogg Foundation, and wrote on LinkedIn that he was excited to return.
But that doesn’t mean Buster is done with Wilmington. Having already signed on as the lead consultant for the planned 1898 Museum, Buster told me he’d moved onto the board as c0-chair.
“This work is too important to me. I’m in for the long haul,” he said.
ICE in schools: We’ve had more than a few questions and comments about a significant policy shift at the Department of Homeland Security, which allows Immigration and Customs Enforcement officers from detaining people at schools, houses of worship, and medical facilities – something that was previously prohibited under the Obama and Biden administrations.
As WUNC reported this week, the massive Charlotte-Mecklenberg school system is trying to figure out what that means. We’ve reached out to local school districts – some of whom have already told us they’re waiting on guidance – and we’ll have some reporting on this next week.
AI don’t know if this is a good idea… : I had another opportunity to speak with members of the Cape Fear Humanists and Freethinkers this weekend. I shared some of my experiences, good and bad, working with AI in journalism (and life). As I’ve written in this newsletter, I think AI provides some powerful tools but also some perverse incentives, and shouldn’t be left unsupervised. So, we got into all that.
As in the past, they were a great group, who showed up on a Saturday morning with probing questions and thoughtful insights. My thanks to Page Rutledge for having me back!