Maude Callen: What can one woman do?

Author and journalist Lindsay Street set the scene for the audience at the March 17 program of the Daniel Island Historical Society at Church of the Holy Spirit, reading a poignant passage from her recently published book “Maude Callen: Legendary Nurse-Midwife of South Carolina.”  

It was 1951 in rural Berkeley County, explained Street. A tiny infant “hot with fever” was brought to Callen’s doorstep. The baby was in desperate need of a blood transfusion. Callen realized the child was too dehydrated to treat at her home, so she decided to drive her 27 miles to the hospital in Moncks Corner.  

Accompanying Callen, the first Black nurse-midwife in South Carolina, were two staff members from Life magazine, photographer W. Eugene Smith and Bernie Schoenfeld, who were in town working on a photo essay about Callen and rural health care.  

“Maude drove as fast as the road could carry them, never caring if she left the photographers in the dust,” Street continued. “Transfusions weren't a new tool for Maude or the rest of the medical community in 1951. It was a procedure born in the 19th century…perfected through scientific advancement of the 20th century and the battlefields of World War II. 

"But in 1951, that was only the second year this Black baby could access blood from donors not of her own skin color under Red Cross regulations. In South Carolina, however, her access remained limited by race.” 

In other Southern states, such as Arkansas and Louisiana, state laws prohibited blood crossing racial lines until the 1960s and 1970s, noted Street.  

“This turned out to be important in this case, although Maude had no way of knowing yet,” she said. “Maude wasn't allowed to administer transfusions, although she did and could under her supervisor, Dr. William Kershaw Fishburne. But in this case, there were two reasons for that technicality. First, transfusions were the realm of doctors, and second, Jim Crow (laws) kept White and Black lives as separate as possible, even within a hospital. Maude was no longer a nurse once she walked through the hospital doors.” 

Once Callen arrived, a White doctor and nurse attempted to assist the baby, but after a mishap with a vial of blood and difficulties accessing the child’s veins, they were not able to save her. Callen could not intervene due to the racial disparities of the time.   

“Maude held the baby's arms,” Street recounted. “Perhaps she held them to keep the baby from fighting the needle. But now under the gaze of Gene’s camera, it looked more like to give the child final comfort. There was no fight left. Maude watched the child take her last breath and become still, unable to take another.” 

The images captured of those gut-wrenching moments would forever immortalize Callen and the emotion she felt on that fateful day. Smith’s photographs would reveal a “heartbreaking serenity” on Callen’s face, noted Street.  

“Inside, she raged. She knew she could have saved the little girl.” 

But moments like this, along with other happier times and outcomes, would punctuate Callen’s pioneering medical career serving those in need – many of them without electricity or running water. The Life magazine essay catapulted her story across the nation, bringing in funds that enabled her to build a modern clinic of her own, which is now a museum on the National Register of Historic Places. According to the museum’s website, “through her personal midwife services and midwife training program, Callen significantly diminished maternal and infant death in Berkeley County by 1955 and is credited with delivering nearly 75% of Berkeley County’s population by 1972.” 

Street’s book documents Callen’s incredible journey, from her early days as an orphan in Florida, to her arrival in Pineville, South Carolina, by mule-drawn wagon in 1923 to begin her work as a missionary nurse, to a life of service that would ultimately span nearly 70 years.  

“What she did was absolutely extraordinary and yet so very ordinary,” Street continued. "Some people call her the Mother Teresa of South Carolina, the angel in twilight. And if you ask anyone in Pineville, the area that she served, they'll tell you she's a saint. She's a legend.” 

Street is hopeful Callen’s story will inspire others to raise their own hands when they see a need. 

“Her story encourages us to get our hands dirty and to jump up and do something, not serving what need we want, but the need that is there. When things feel hopeless, be helpful, create meaning from life, find a purpose that can be yours to claim…that’s why stories like Maude's matter. She faced oppression few of us can ever imagine, and look what she could do. So, what can you do?” 

For more information, visit arcadiapublishing.com and search for "Maude Callen: Legendary Nurse-Midwife of South Carolina."