In Praise of Better Days
OOIC vocational ed classes landed people jobs; Its events fostered community
Today, only an empty building and memories remain
Groundbreaking ceremony, circa 1975, for the current OOIC building. Former Omaha mayor Eugene Leahy, far left. Creighton University president Carl Reinert, far right. Next to Reinert, from right to left, is Rev. Foster Goodlett and Rev. Z.W. Williams.
(Image courtesy of OOIC)
By Leo Adam Biga
Back in the day, before a myriad of troubles brought on its ultimate demise, the Omaha Opportunities Industrialization Center (OOIC), rocked. During its peak, hundreds of people intersected weekly with its adult education, employment training and job placement programs (operating at 2724 North 24th St. for most of its history). Graduation ceremonies were points of pride for students completing classes there. More than an educational space, OOIC hosted community events, including lectures, cultural observances, craft shows, fashion shows, meetings, parties and home-going repasts.
Former OOIC staffer Phyllis Hicks working at the OOIC circa the 1970s-1980s. Phyllis Hicks helped to identify all the photos for this publication. Images provided by OOIC board member Alfonzo Robinson.
Launched in 1966, OOIC offered services to a poor, working-class community hungry for a step up. From a humble start in makeshift quarters, OOIC took off after a grassroots fundraising campaign led to the construction of the building it called home from 1976 until recently. Carvie Erwin epitomized the life-changing effects of the place and its people. The Swift meatpacking laborer aspired to safer, less back-breaking work that could provide for his family. OOIC sent him on a path to earn bachelor’s and master’s degrees in education. He eventually became vice-principal at Monroe Middle School. When OOIC turned 30, he praised the “great motivators” on staff there. One in particular, Mary McCoy, he said, “encouraged me to perform at a higher level and convinced me that I was college material.”
Victory LeRoi Smith went from working on a team that rebuilt the Chesapeake Bay Bridge-Tunnel to a career as a switchman, brakeman, fireman and conductor with the Chicago Northwestern Railroad in Minnesota to white collar office work with John Deere in Wisconsin. Similar stories abound for Sandra Dawson-Hill, Carole Jeanpierre and Mary Flowers, who obtained skills at OOIC that led to careers. Dennis Womack connected students to jobs. Phyllis Hicks and Bettie Threats devoted decades to teaching and mentoring students there. Laura Walsh only taught a short time at OOIC, but it influenced the course of her professional life. Nola Jeanpierre created decorations and prepared meals for galas, including graduation ceremonies, in OOIC’s well-used community hall.
Whatever their intersection with OOIC, each holds fond memories and despairs what’s become of this community touchstone.
The problems that ended its 53-year run began with unpaid debts that drove funders away. New players in adult education and job training siphoned off students. Repeated roof failures caused severe damage that went unaddressed, Dealing with frequent budget crises, OOIC became an island until itself, especially after severing ties with the national OIC office. Its reputation further suffered when certificates were conferred to graduates of unaccredited courses.
Beset by water damage and vandalism, the property was declared uninhabitable by the city a few years ago. Meanwhile, the Nebraska Attorney General’s Office filed a legal action against the board, who, under threat of penalty, ceased operations and vacated the premises. After so much activity as a public hub, this now idle, empty landmark turned eyesore awaits an uncertain fate. It’s another blow for a community that’s seen much of its physical heritage lost or destroyed. Some area residents are working with the national OIC office to reactivate the brand in Omaha with new programming and leadership – with or without the building.
Born from a movement
OIC of America founder Rev. Leon Sullivan at a regional convention OOIC hosed in Omaha. (Courtesy of OOIC)
Launched in 1964 by Rev. Leon Sullivan, OIC grew out of energy around civil rights legislation and a burgeoning Black self-determination movement. But for now, memories are all that remain of the once bustling gathering spot. They help tell the story of a center that sprang from a movement much like Black Lives Matter. The pull of grassroots engagement, community service, personal empowerment and career advancement brought people together at OOIC and set them on paths that still resonate with them today. From its start through its heyday, the Omaha enterprise was aligned with the Opportunities Industrialization Center (OIC) in Philadelphia.
North Omaha native Barry Goodlett worked for Rev. Sullivan in Philly and brought the OIC model to the attention of his father, Rev. Foster Goodlett, pastor of Mount Moriah Baptist Church.
Rev. Foster Goodlett was instrumental in bringing OIC to Omaha. (Courtesy of OOIC)
They applied to form an Omaha affiliate. More local Black ministers joined the cause, including Rev. J.C. Wade and Rev. Z. W. Williams, the pastors of Salem and Morning Star Baptist churches, respectively. Phyllis Hicks, who variously taught retail, typing and keypunch, joined OOIC in ’67. “The support was overwhelming from the beginning. The ministers encouraged the members of their congregations to get involved,” she recalled. Omaha emerged as one of OIC’s most successful affiliates. Staffers trained at the national headquarters. She recalls joining a contingent from the Omaha affiliate to participate in an OIC-led march on the nation’s Capitol to demand greater federal support for educational and workforce development efforts.
Hicks is one of many individuals who used OOIC as a training ground and launching point for career pursuits. In addition to teaching, she became an OOIC administrator. She also produced pageants there. She was on staff for 30-plus years and parlayed her OOIC experience to become a quality assurance manager and trainer at Sitel Corporation and, later, a product support analyst for CSG Systems Inc. She then began a long association with The Omaha Star newspaper, first as marketing director, before assuming the managing editor and publisher roles. Though retired and long removed from her OOIC days, she vividly recalls the first voc-ed classes convening in Duffy Drugs at 24th and Lake. Offerings expanded when operations moved to the former Williams machine shop at 24th and Corby.
OOIC proved an easy sell. “What interested a lot of people was the fact they could work on their GED and get their high school diploma and learn workplace skills there,” Hicks said. “Most of the jobs in Omaha then you had to have some skill training – typing, dictation, bookkeeping. I used to teach typing out of the newspaper (Omaha World-Herald) until we were able to get books.” Tutoring was also available.
“The ministers all came down in their coveralls and painted walls...Carpenters sectioned off spaces to make classrooms and offices.”
Dennis Womack worked closely with the welding instructor in OOIC’s HAY-DAY
“ I found employment opportunities for students who completed their course of training at companies like Fruhauf and Modern Equipment as well as auto dealerships.”
“Soon after moving to the old machine shop,” Hicks said, “we added drafting. After we got some equipment donated, we started teaching machine tool operation along with welding.”
Advisory committees drawn from different sectors of the community, including CEOs, board chairs and human resource managers of major Omaha companies, guided the vocational training offerings. Hicks said the organization once owned the confidence of business-industry, education and government, counting among its “very good friends” Omaha mayors Gene Leahy, Ed Zorinsky and Mike Boyle. “In the early 1970's I was on loan to the City of Omaha from the Concentrated Employment and Training Administration (CETA ) for Northern Natural’s programs at OOIC,” said Dennis Womack. “I worked closely with the welding instructor, Adisa Mandela (aka Howard Lafayette). I partnered with him and OOIC to integrate minorities into the workforce.”
IBM offered computer programming training. Western Electric (Lucent) trained students to make switchboards.
In each case, Hicks said, “Students got paid training and when they left OOIC they had jobs waiting for them.”
(Bernice Dodd and staff showing off an OOIC computer lab to OIC of America founder Rev. Leon Sullivan)
“All those components worked together to get OOIC up and funded and running. They supported us in our endeavors,” Hicks said. Classes for single moms focused on parenting and connecting families to community resources. For students preparing to enter the workforce for the first time or for a long time, there were classes on resume writing, job interview protocols, and how to dress for success. There was also an onsite daycare.
Rev. Leon Sullivan and Bernice Dodd on tour of the new OOIC building
(Courtesy of OOIC)
The crowning moment came with the construction of OOIC’s multimillion-dollar 29,000 square-foot new home. A groundswell of support enabled the contemporary-style structure, designed by local Black architect Gordon Zenon, to be built essentially at no cost to the organization thanks to grants, donations and in-kind gifts. “When we moved in that building we were debt-free,” Hicks said, “We didn’t owe not one penny.” The late Bernice Dodd led the organization then and she’s warmly remembered for the standards she set. “Truly a gem. Very personable, caring, sharing and understanding. She gave people opportunities they might not otherwise have had,” said OOIC grad Sandra Dawson-Hill. “You were like the chosen few if you went there. You had to be really good at what you did.”
Moving on up
“I wanted nothing else but learn how to work with numbers and to see money signs in front of it. Upon entering that program you were instantly assigned a counselor who kept you fixed on your goal. It was a good feeling and a good fit because they made you accountable. At the end of each phase you received a completion certificate, ceremony and all. It was awesome. Before graduating they matched you with people who took you out on job interviews.”
“She had a love for the community,” Nola Jeanpierre said of Dodd
(Courtesy of OOIC)
One of those interviews got Dawson-Hill hired at Brandeis Department Store downtown, where she was the first African American woman to run the fine jewelry counter. She went on to work as a Walgreens cosmetician for 18 years. She credits OOIC with setting her up for success. “I’m so grateful to them. Whenever I go by that building I give it a thumbs up. I remember the days and the people. It was great times for learning, great opportunities for under-advantaged people. And it could be that again if that building gets into the right hands. It should be utilized for our community.”
Victory LeRoi Smith would like to see a reactivated building offer a college preparatory and tech-heavy curriculum. “Prep for kids to be confident enough to attend and finish college. Teach the elements on the periodic table to wake up scientists. train and educate for e-commerce, app development and website building.” Carole Jeanpierre is dismayed the resource center she knew is gone. “When I pass that building I often wonder what has become of it or what happened. It’s just all done, shut down, and you don’t know what’s going on.” She prefers to recall its glory days. “I have great memories. A lot of great things really did happen in there. People got jobs. People learned about physical and mental wellness there. it just means a lot.” Jeanpierre earned a Certified Nursing Assistant certificate at OOIC and worked as a CNA for several years.
Each one to teach one
Bettie Threats (Recent), Image courtesy of Threats
Jeanpierre gives kudos to her instructor, Bettie Threats. “She whipped a lot of people into shape. She wanted to make sure you knew compassion with everything else. Every single day you knew you learned something impactful and you couldn’t wait to get back. I learned a lot from Bettie Threats.”
“Miss Betty,” as she was known, became a Big Mama to the young women under her direction. “She wasn’t just a teacher, she was a mentor,” said grad Mary Flowers. “She took young women aside and advised them. She was sensitive to the fact I had dyslexia. She said, ‘Mary, you can do this, I don’t care if you have to learn by repetition,’ and that’s the way she taught me.” Flowers used that instruction to become a home healthcare and hospice worker. Threats was part of a caring staff Flowers admired. “They were not fly-by-night people. They were in your life. Once they got in, they were in there. They checked on you.” Dawson-Hill echoed the same, saying, “They took you under their wings right away.”
Flowers first intersected with OOIC as a teen and again in middle-age. She was part of a summer program that fed youth there and bussed them to Offutt Air Force for life-skills and a stipend. She got pregnant, dropped put of school, but obtained her GED through OOIC. She came back in her 50s to get her CNA. “OOIC truly opened the door for me. It was such a big cornerstone in my life.” Threats taught at OOIC for 35 years, from 1984 until 2019, when the CNA program was the only academic offering left. “I was there when they closed,” Threats said. Why did she stay until the bitter end? “Just wanting to help the young people in our community. I did it because they needed it and they needed jobs.” OOIC classes served more than recent high school graduates. Many were in their 20s or older, including ex-offenders.
Laura Walsh taught a mix of students and is forever marked by the experience.
“My first job after graduating UNO in 1981 was teaching English at OOIC. The students were so full of joy and energy they would blast a radio and dance around the classroom every time I stepped out. At first, I was a little nervous as we had a full-time security guard in front of the real-estate classroom, which had men on parole. But after subbing in there a few times, I saw they were friendly and sincere in their studies. Though laid off after two months due to budget cuts, I was inspired to go on to graduate school and spend my life working with minority students at a community college.”
Often times employers sent staff to OOIC for specific training. Nola Jeanpierre’s job at the time required she get computer training and upon taking classes at OOIC she received certification. Outside of classes, Jeanpierre and her late mother Betty Bragg Beck, who were caterers, brought a touch of home to the center by preparing hot meals in its kitchen for purchase by staff and students. Jeanpierre, also a licensed florist, and Beck, an event planner, designed flower arrangements and frills that brightened and warmed the space for all manner of special events. Jeanpierre and her daughter, Carole, both professional singers, often performed there as well. As the number of students dwindled and the state of the building deteriorated, a few die-hards like Threats stayed on. It was tough. “Sometimes I had only five students,” Threats said. “It flooded when it snowed or rained. I mopped up in there many a day. It was very discouraging.”
“The building was falling down on the inside. No air conditioning. Just big industrial fans,” Flowers said. Events it once hosted relocated to other venues.
Nostalgic for the past, hopeful for the future
OIC Convention 1972
An OIC of America convention in 1972 at the Music Hall in downtown Omaha brought delegates from OIC of America’s Region 5 as well as national speakers and presenters.
Threats longed for the good old days. “It was wonderful then. Sometimes I would have 25 students in my class. OOIC was booming back then. It was a beautiful building.” Day and night, the center hopped with activity. Classes regularly filled. “So many people came through that building for community meetings,” Nola Jeanpierre said. “It was basically a multicultural center,” Threats confirmed. The vocational ed classes provided a catalyst for students to get hired or to seek more advanced training. “Oh, absolutely.” Threats said. “A lot of those girls that got their CNA went on to nursing school and became registered nurses.” She’s still in touch with many today.
Into the ‘90s private support made up for the gap in public sector grants. Community Development Block Grant (CDBG) dollars were once OOIC’s main funding source before those monies became unavailable due in part to political changes. “When I started teaching there,“ Threats said, “Union Pacific was a big donor. They furnished everything students needed for my class.” Then, in light of tax liens, unpaid bills and mismanaged funds, the corporate spigot got turned off. Management struggled to find enough donors to maintain programs, much less the building. Financial appeals to alumni mostly went unheeded, according to Hicks. Veterans like Flowers are “sad” OOIC is no more and adamant it not be forgotten. “It’s a piece of our history. It might not be a big piece for a lot of people, but it is a big piece for people like me and others, who, if not for OOIC, could have gone down a different path.”
“It was phenomenal how they reached out into the community to educate and prepare people for positions of employment,” Nola Jeanpierre said. “They tried to meet the needs of the people.”
Staff and spectators at the 1975 OOIC groundbreaking
Whether the building that housed OOIC has a future is uncertain. Phyllis Hicks echoed the sentiment of many in saying, “I would rather see the city take it over and put the building back together and make something out of it then to just let it sit there and fall to the ground.” To the OOIC board that put the building up for sale and to the interest group looking to revive OIC, Hicks has a message: “If you want OIC to work, it has to be a movement. For those of us that worked there, it was more than a job – it was a faith movement. I tell people, if you’re not committed to this and dedicated to seeing it through, leave it alone,”