COLUMBIA - When the other girls at S.C. State College were wearing bobby socks and saddle shoes, Essie Mae Washington-Williams was in hose and heels.

Friends then and now describe her as poised and charming - a class treasurer who married a member of S.C. State's first law school class.

"She seemed a little more mature than the rest of us," said Thelma Little of Brooklyn, N.Y., S.C. State class of 1947.

She was private. She did not gossip.

She now says she had a secret.

It was widely rumored that the late U.S. Sen. Strom Thurmond, white and an ardent segregationist, had a biracial daughter.

It also was widely rumored that the daughter was Washington-Williams; but she never acknowledged it, and even close friends and neighbors didn't ask.

Her children and grandchildren say they have known for a while now.

"But like her, we've kept quiet for the most part," said Dr. Ronald James Williams, her son. "It was best overall for everybody."

But today, at an 11 a.m. news conference at the Adam's Mark hotel in downtown Columbia, Washington-Williams will tell her story.

At age 78, she is Thurmond's oldest child, a claim his family acknowledged Monday.

Washington-Williams says she is telling her story out of duty to history and out of respect for her own family, so they will know their heritage.

She has friends in South Carolina, where she was born and where she went to college. Some, like Lewie Roache, may come to today's news conference.

"I'd love to see Essie," said Roache, a classmate who later became dean of the School of Arts and Sciences at S.C. State.

Regular Visits

Washington-Williams was born Oct. 12, 1925. Her mother, Carrie Butler, was a 16-year-old maid in the Thurmond home in Edgefield.

Strom Thurmond was 22, a teacher and coach, when Carrie Butler gave birth. A relative took the child to Coatesville, Pa., to be raised by family.

After graduating from high school, Washington-Williams briefly studied nursing in Harlem Hospital in New York City. She left there just after Thurmond was elected governor and enrolled in S.C. State in Orangeburg.

Thurmond began visiting the campus regularly. Students and faculty would clear out of Wilkinson Hall, which then housed the administrative offices and the library.

Thurmond would arrive in a limousine and spend 45 minutes to an hour in Wilkinson.

It was rumored Thurmond was visiting his daughter.

Washington-Williams did not talk about her father. And then, no one would have asked.

"In 1948, you didn't spread that rumor too much because of the political situation," said former classmate Theodore K. Sims. The state was segregated.

In South Carolina, some black leaders hope some good will come of this, especially if mixed heritage is easier to talk about.

"It's one of those things that aren't talked about that really should be talked about," said state Sen. Clementa Pinckney.

Washington-Williams lives in Los Angeles, where she taught school until she retired.

Her friends are protective of her. When asked about her, their responses follow two lines: She is a quiet and reserved woman who is setting the record straight.

And she is no different from thousands of other blacks with white fathers who have carried their secrets for too long.