From Every Stormy Wind That Blows 

By S. Jonathan Bass 

LSU Press, 2024 

Cloth: $50.00 

Genre: History 

Reviewed by Foster Dickson 

Cover of From Every Stormy Wind That Blows, showing historical photograph of a school.

If you were to ask around among average Alabamians today, many would know that Samford University in Birmingham is a longstanding Baptist institution. But considering that Samford adopted its current name in the mid-1960s, at a time when anyone under sixty had not yet been born, and that its history in Birmingham began when its predecessor college was moved from Marion in the 1880s, long before any of us were born, its backstory is not as well-known. In From Every Stormy Wind That Blows, historian S. Jonathan Bass elucidates that history, which began during Alabama’s frontier days, in a narrative that centers on the philosophical underpinnings of the predecessor institution, Howard College. This Baptist college was founded to tame the wild and uncivilized ways of backwoods culture in Alabama’s Black Belt.  

Bass’s story of Howard College begins in New York State in the 1820s with James Harvey DeVotie, a man who converted to the Baptist faith and mended his troublesome ways. In the unruly days of the frontier, DeVotie headed south and helped to establish a school for young men in the Black Belt town of Marion in 1841. It was named for British religious reformer John Howard, who “embodied an enlightened Christian usefulness, exemplified a model moral agent, and demonstrated virtuous citizenship.” Those traits would become some of the school’s ideals in the moral struggle to win over the souls of West Alabama’s fierce and often hard-drinking people. 

The main narrative in this story of Howard College, as told in the mildly weighty style of academic history, carries us from the days leading up to its founding through its move to Birmingham in the 1880s. From the early 1840s, Howard grew from a preparatory school for well-to-do families in the Black Belt into a liberal arts college aspiring to train Baptist ministers. However, two important factors hampered the institution, and Bass covers them thoroughly: a distinct lack of cooperation from Alabama’s Baptists when asked for funding and disagreements over whether the college was serving its function of providing ministers. That lack of proper funding was an ongoing problem since the school lacked an endowment, which meant it did not operate on a firm financial footing. As for the latter issue, Bass seems to want us to understand that Alabama’s nineteenth-century Baptists never really agreed on why Howard was there or who it served. Through several college presidents, each with his own style of discipline and rigor, the purposeful religious and moral foundation of Howard College remained strong. At the same time, its operations and practices varied in their incarnations and realities. 

Yet, among these currents, Bass raises another issue to acknowledge: race. Howard College was founded in Alabama’s Black Belt twenty years before the Civil War began, and the labor of enslaved people was part of the college’s early life. Enslavers and Confederates were also among its early leaders. The author addresses these facts honestly and without sentimentality or pandering, addressing this history’s tragic and inhumane nature with candor. One notable episode, in 1854, involved an enslaved man named Harry, who saved numerous white students from a building fire and died in doing so. Bass devotes pages to Harry and the monument erected to honor him. During the Civil War, the man who enslaved Harry, college president and minister Henry Talbard, went off to the fighting himself. Later, in the post-Civil War era, another racialized aspect of the story involved conflicts between white Howard students and black students at the nearby Lincoln School. One particularly tense altercation is cited as a factor in the college’s move. 

The second phase of this story begins with Alabama’s Baptists voting to move Howard College to the Birmingham area at their annual convention. (Some who opposed the move stayed put and founded Marion Military Academy on the old campus.) Unfortunately, that lack of financial support followed Howard to the East Lake location in the mid- to late 1880s. According to Bass, the trustees were lured into leaving Marion for Birmingham, then a new and burgeoning city, by “fictitious” promises and “New South hype.” In addition to that problem, the donors once again disappointed the fundraisers, so the new campus was inauspicious at first, even called by one president “an embarrassing pile of buildings.” Though gains were made, including the elimination of major debt, these struggles continued through the end of the nineteenth century.  

In his “Epilogue,” Bass gives us what the old radio personality Paul Harvey would have called “the rest of the story.” Modern readers would, of course, be familiar with Samford University, not Howard College, and we learn a bit about how that new name came to be. To close out, the historian moves quickly through a few key events in the twentieth century, some of which – once again – included the specter of race, to let us know how that change happened. 

From Every Stormy Wind That Blows offers students of history a strong examination of a nuanced topic in Alabama’s past. This book is well-written, nicely illustrated, fully developed, cleanly organized, and easily understood. The characters in this drama are fully realized on the page, with both their backgrounds and their actions at Howard clearly explained. Perhaps the only caveat is that the style is moderately academic, which may not appeal to every reader. Yet, for those inclined toward and suited to the task, Bass’s work is valuable and will be appreciated.  

Foster Dickson is a writer, editor, and teacher in Montgomery, Alabama.