I am truly honored and humbled to be here with you today.

Nearly 170 years ago, when our country was still newly-formed, a Frenchman named Alexis de Tocqueville came to our shores to explore this fledgling experiment in democracy. He recorded his thoughts in a landmark treatise called Democracy in America. He told his readers that he "sought the image of democracy itself, with its inclinations, its character, its prejudices, and its passions, in order to learn what we have to fear or hope from its progress."

Had Tocqueville visited America in 1968, he would have seen our fears and not our hopes. We were a country in turmoil. Thousands of American soldiers died in Vietnam. Assassins struck down Robert Kennedy and Martin Luther King. Neighbors feared and distrusted one another. We were a state and a nation deeply divided by race, age and politics.

This was especially evident on our college campuses. On these campuses, the passions of the time spawned protests and confrontation. Some of these protests are known to all Americans. One of the most famous images of the era is that of a young girl weeping over her fallen friend at Kent State in Ohio.

But when we look in the pages of history, the Orangeburg Massacre is often missing. Most Americans know about the four students killed at Kent State in 1970, but not the three students killed at S.C. State two years before. What happened here thirty-three years ago was the first tragedy of its kind on an American college campus. Yet few Americans have ever heard the names of Samuel Hammond, Delano Middleton and Henry Smith. Most Americans do not know them as we know them.

Henry Smith was a sophomore from Marion. His mother was secretary of his high school PTA. Henry's mother taught him the importance of a good education. She told her children, "I always figured if I couldn't get it, I was going to have it for my kids. Get them to college and get them what they needed." Henry kept his promise to his mother. And he wrote her every week to let her know how he was doing in school.

Delano Middleton was a student at Wilkinson High School here in Orangeburg. He would often lead his teammates in prayer after football practice. His mother worked at the college, and Delano often spent time on the campus making friends with the older students.

Samuel Hammond was born in Barnwell, and grew up in Florida. He returned to his home state with dreams of becoming a teacher. On a college questionnaire, Samuel was asked "What was the one big thing he wanted in life?" Samuel responded that the thing he wanted most was an education.

Henry Smith, Samuel Hammond and Delano Middleton each wanted to enjoy the unlimited potential offered in America … in a time and place where skin color provided limited opportunity. It was that effort to claim equal rights and equal opportunity, that pursuit of human dignity … that led students to protest segregation at a local bowling alley.

And after three days of fear and uncertainty … these three young men were killed … and twenty-seven others wounded … on the grounds of this campus.

We deeply regret what happened here on the night of February 8th, 1968. The Orangeburg Massacre was a great tragedy for our state. Even today, the State of South Carolina bows its head, bends its knee and begins the search for reconciliation.

The families of Samuel Hammond, Henry Smith and Delano Middleton are gathered here today. We thank you for coming. As a parent, I can only imagine the sorrow you must have felt to lose a loved one. We wish we had the opportunity to know them as you did. We regret that they were taken from us at such a young age.

Many of the survivors of that night have gathered here. We thank you for coming, and we welcome you back to Orangeburg today. We take comfort from the fact that Orangeburg is a better place, South Carolina is a better place, and America is a better place than it was thirty-three years ago.

I also want to thank the students of S.C. State for being here today. If these three young men were alive today, their sons and daughters would be college students just like you. they were here because their parents believed in the power of education. And you are here because of the sacrifices they made. These sacrifices must never be forgotten, and these opportunities must never be taken for granted.

Thirty-three years ago, a group of students gathered around a bonfire on this campus after being denied their basic right to patronize a local business. And on that cold February night, that bonfire was extinguished, along with the lives of three brave young men.

But that bonfire still glows brightly today. Because we -- the living -- are now the keepers of that flame.

We must carry the flame with understanding … and compassion … and education. Opportunity comes from education. Ignorance and prejudice are turned back by education.

The flame of education illuminates the dark corners of our past. The flame of education warms our hearts with reconciliation. And the flame of education can guide us into a future of boundless hope and opportunity.

In America, we still seek the image of democracy itself. And we still must contend with our passions and our prejudices.

But if Alexis de Tocqueville … or Samuel Hammond … or Henry Smith … or Delano Middleton were here today, they would see a city, and a state, and a nation where fear has waned and hope abides. They would witness the progress of our democracy, nod their heads and recognize that there is still much to be done.

And most importantly, they would urge us to continue down the path of reconciliation.

Thank you for granting me the honor of standing here today.