Nearly six months ago, on June 17, 2015, College of Charleston librarian Cynthia Hurd was among nine victims of a shooting tragedy at Emanuel A.M.E. Church in downtown Charleston. To those who knew her, it seemed she was always working, always helping, always looking out for others. And yet, because she moved through life with such understated grace and poise, her guiding and nurturing hand was not always evident. Only now, in celebration of her life, can we fully recognize the true extent of her reach and the enormity of her impact.


Cynthia-Hurd

College of Charleston librarian Cynthia Graham Hurd.

If Cynthia Graham Hurd had not been killed in the basement of Emanuel A.M.E. Church, had she lived to walk among us in our grief and sadness in the hours and days after the tragedy, many would have gone to her for answers.

We seek librarians when we have questions. We seek people of religious faith when our deepest beliefs are shaken. We seek the strong and the nurturing when we hurt. We seek someone like Hurd.

At a time of profound loss, in the desperate, hazy search for answers, for truth and healing, we would turn to Hurd and ask her why – why would someone commit such unimaginable acts of violence?

It was embedded in her truest nature to help, to comfort and to listen. But after the shootings, the one to whom we would turn might herself have struggled to find the right words. Instead she might have offered a hug, a prayer or a tear-filled gaze that would have said I too am hurting.

Had she sat behind the information desk in Addlestone Library on the Sunday following the shootings, exactly where she could be found most Sundays after church, the library patrons she helped would not have known it was her 55th birthday or that she was calling the celebration her double-nickel.

The fact that Hurd didn’t allow herself to rest on Sundays said a lot about her character and work ethic. Never mind that she had already put in more than a full week’s work as branch manager at one of Charleston County’s busiest libraries. Or that she maintained a busy schedule outside of work – volunteering on community boards and serving as an active member of her church.

If she could be of service to others, she found the time.

James Williams ’95, associate dean of the College’s libraries, often stopped by the library on Sundays to talk with Hurd, his colleague and close friend. Both grew up in Charleston and had known each other since the mid-1980s. They also shared in common their religious faith and library careers.

In recent months Williams had been wrestling with a decision about his plans after retirement, and he knew he could trust Hurd to help guide him toward the right answer…

To read more, please see the full story about Cynthia Hurd in the Fall 2015 issue of College of Charleston Magazine.
Cynthia Hurd

Cynthia Hurd illustration by Andrew Thompson