Westside & Beyond

Last week was one of the happiest moments of my life. Ms. Bettye Williams and Mr. King Wooten, two pillars, sat side by side, reminiscing about a time most of us can’t even begin to imagine. I’ve been saying since my tenure here at WCC that I had to interview them, and the day finally came.

Watching them share their stories and respond to our kids’ questions? I was overjoyed, elated, and feeling everything in between. It wasn’t just an interview. It was a moment of honor, legacy, and connection. These two carry decades of history, wisdom, and quiet strength, and they pour it out with grace and humor.

Moments like this remind me why preserving our oral history is important. For most of my life, we lived near the seasoned generation—it was like having built-in grandparents. I never realized that would cultivate an ingrained level of reverence and respect. And now, instead of complaining that this generation lacks it, I see it as my responsibility to create those kinds of moments for them.

The stories of West Bartlesville matter. The cultures, the faith, the diversity, the resilience, and the people who shaped it all. And these two? They were there. They are the story. Ms. Bettye was one of the first Black employees at Phillips, entrusted with traveling to other states to report on the treatment of Black employees, among a myriad of other fascinating things. And Mr. King? A shuttle driver for Phillips with over one million miles of safe driving, whose limo regularly carried the best of the best—executives, dignitaries, and elite guests. The stories they’ve told... and the ones still locked safely in their minds?

Priceless.

They had no idea they were officially launching what we’re now calling The Legacy Project: Westside & Beyond—a platform where Bartlesville’s youth will dig deeper and share the untold stories of those in the Bartlesville community who’ve impacted generations. And it begins with Ms. Bettye and Mr. King.

I’ve known of Ms. Bettye since childhood. I grew up with her granddaughter, affectionately calling her “Bebo,” with no real idea what that name meant—until last week. Turns out, it was a nickname her grandson came up with when he was little, and it just stayed with her ever since. Imagine walking down the streets of Bartlesville and some random person yells out “Bebo!” with excitement and confidence, like it’s your actual name. LOL. That’s how deep it runs.

Mr. King is my uncle, the youngest brother of my late grandmother. We’ve always called him Uncle LD, never quite knowing where the “L” came from. His name is King Solomon David Wooten. I figured this was finally my chance to get the story behind it… I leaned in intently, phone ready to record, only to find out he doesn’t know either. LOL. I guess some childhood nicknames have a way of holding on, whether they make sense or not.

These two, Bebo and Uncle LD, bring me an immense amount of joy every time I’m around them. I can’t fully explain it. It’s just felt. It’s like being wrapped in warmth you didn’t know you needed.

Sitting at the feet of two people who have lived over ninety years, who’ve seen so much, endured so much, and still radiate joy, is now a core memory I’ll never forget. We laughed. We got quiet. We leaned in. We let the weight of their words settle in. And woven through it all? Their unshakable faith in God. That’s what held them through everything.

This special moment was part of our Summer Fine Arts Week with Joe Todd, where students were learning how to conduct interviews for our upcoming WCC Youth Talk Show and student-led magazine. While some kids were away on vacation, and the rest were a little too shy to come into the room, they still submitted their written questions and were able to hear the answers the following day.

And let me tell you, the questions were GOLD.

One student asked, “How did you meet people before social media?” I couldn’t stop laughing. Imagine the innocence of being born into the information age and not being able to fathom communication without devices. The look of joyous confusion as Ms. Bettye and Mr. King both implied, “The same way we do now,” before going into beautiful detail, LOL. That moment alone was worth the whole day.

For me, being born in the late 1900s, we rode bikes until the streetlights came on, scraped our knees on skateboards, and made friends in youth groups or riding the school bus. It reminded me of a time when connection wasn’t curated, it was just lived.

But then came the wisdom. We asked them to share advice with our youth, and whew... did they deliver! I can’t wait for you to get a deeper glimpse into that interview.

This is the kind of exposure, inspiration, and purpose our students are receiving. Not just playtime and gentle speeches, but real life, legacy, and encounters that shape identity.

The Legacy Project is more than a conversation—it’s a bridge. A sacred exchange between generations. It teaches our youth to listen, to honor, and to draw wisdom from those who came before them. But it also serves as a quiet mirror for our elders, reminding us all that respect is not automatic, it’s cultivated. It’s in the way we speak, the way we listen, the way we carry ourselves when we think no one is watching. If we want the next generation to hold us in honor, we must live in a way that’s honorable. Legacy isn’t just what we leave behind. It’s how we show up now. And this? This is a teachable moment for both.

Imagine being 10 years old and interviewing someone in their 90s. What would you ask? What impression would that leave? What might it spark?

And the best part? Thanks to our generous community, we still have a few FREE spots available. This week, we’re diving into theater. Next week? Youth entrepreneurship. Then comes STEM week, where students will explore science through virtual reality and hands-on projects.

Give a child the gift of creativity and connection this summer. Enroll them in Summer Fine Arts at Westside Community Center. You never know what moment might change their life, or what legacy they might discover.

As a young kid growing up in Bartlesville, it definitely changed mine.