COLUMBIA. S.C. — When Clementa Pinckney stepped to the well of the South Carolina Senate chamber in April, he spoke in the rich, deliberate tone that was his calling card, and he used a biblical story to make his point.
He told fellow lawmakers that, like the Apostle Thomas, who at first questioned Jesus’ resurrection, they might have harbored doubts about whether a white North Charleston police officer had, in fact, shot a black man in the back. But after watching a video of the shooting, “we all were like Thomas and said ‘I believe.’ “
On Thursday, legislators replayed a video of that speech at a statehouse tribute to Pinckney, 41, who was killed with eight others by a gunman inside the historic black Charleston church he led as pastor. It offered testament to a career — quite long for a man so young — and a persona defined by interwoven faith and activism, stretching from boyhood in Ridgeland, a mostly African-American town in the state’s Lowcountry, to the pulpit of one of its most notable congregations.
“In Ridgeland, there was nothing else to do but go to church,” said the retired Rev. Thomas E. McClary, who was Pinckney’s sixth-grade teacher and a mentor to a man who began preaching at 13. Pinckney, who in his teens was elected president of the statewide African Methodist Episcopal youth group, was ordained at 18.
At Allen University, he was president of the student body. One year after he graduated, Pinckney became, at 23, the youngest African-American then elected to the South Carolina Legislature. In 2000, he was elected to the state Senate.
Pinckney endeared himself as a freshman senator, surrounded by men decades older, said Sen. Darrell Jackson, a minister of Columbia’s largest black church.
“Part of the tradition is that when you’re a freshman, even if you are smarter than everybody else, they don’t want you acting like it. Clem got that. He knew that as a freshman he didn’t need to be at the podium every week or speak out on every issue.”
But even as Pinckney gained stature in the statehouse, he remained rooted in the church. Pinckney came from a long line of AME preachers on his mother’s side. Pinckney’s mother grew up in Marion across a farm of tobacco, corn and soybeans from where Williams grew up, and she and her husband, pushed their children to get an education.
Pinckney’s path to college, and later the seminary, led to ministerial posts at a succession of churches, some of them quite small.
“His sermons mesmerized, and he was an excellent teacher of the word,” said Lucille Kannick, a steward at Mount Horr AME Church in Yonges Island, where Pinckney served from 2009 to 2010, before taking the job at the Charleston church.
As he moved from church to church, Pinckney continued to keep a home in Ridgeland that he shared with his wife, Jennifer, and their two daughters. But McClary said he began spending most of his time in Charleston after assuming leadership of Emanuel AME, one of the oldest black churches in the South, often referred to as “Mother Emanuel.”
If a conflict arose between Pinckney’s dual roles, his congregation came first, Jackson said. That meant he sometimes missed sessions to conduct funerals. On Wednesday, Pinckney left Columbia after a committee meeting to get back to his congregation, intending to return Thursday.
Other victims
Sharonda Coleman-Singleton, 45
A part-time minister at Emanuel AME Church who worked as a speech pathologist at Goose Creek High School, where she was also the girls track coach.
Principal Jimmy Huskey said the mother of three was so dedicated that she was at work before 8 a.m. and typically didn’t leave until 8 p.m.
Ethel Lance, 70
A Charleston native who had been a member of the church for most of her life. She retired after working for more than 30 years on the housekeeping staff at the city’s Gaillard Auditorium. She had served as a sexton at the church, helping to keep the historic building clean. She was also a lover of gospel music.
“She was a God-fearing woman,” said granddaughter Najee Washington, 23, who lived with Lance. “She was beautiful inside and out.” She had five children, seven grandchildren and four great-grandchildren.
Cynthia Hurd, 54
Her brother took some comfort in knowing his happy-go-lucky sister died in the church she grew up in and loved.
Hurd was the manager of one of the busiest branches of the Charleston County library system. In her honor, the system closed all 16 of its branches Thursday.
She grew up in Charleston, and her mother made sure they went to Emanuel AME Church on Sundays, Wednesdays and any other time it was open
. Hurd’s husband is a merchant sailor who has been at sea near Saudi Arabia.
DePayne Doctor, 49
An enrollment counselor at Southern Wesleyan University’s Charleston campus, according to a friend. She joined the Emanuel AME Church at the beginning of the year and soon began teaching Wednesday evening Bible class. Doctor had four daughters. Latrice Smalls described her cousin as “a songstress” who began singing as a girl, particularly gospel music, and performed for her church and her family.
Tywanza Sanders, 26
Graduated last year from Allen University, where he studied business. The school described Sanders as “a quiet, well-known student” with “a warm and helpful spirit.”
On his Instagram account, Sanders called himself a poet, artist and businessman.
Myra Thompson, 59
Wife of the vicar of Holy Trinity Reformed Episcopal Church. She was a graduate of Benedict College in Columbia, S.C.
Susie Jackson, 87
A longtime church member, she sang in the choir and was a cousin of Ethel Vance. “Granny was the heart of the family,” her grandson Jon Quil Lance said. She was scheduled to go on a church-sponsored bus trip to Chicago on Sunday.
Daniel Simmons, 74
Retired pastor of several area churches, including Greater Zion AME Church in Awendaw. He often visited Wednesday for Bible studies.
