Dudley Flood's teachers in Hertford County knew he was something special. Through their hopes and his parents' high expectations, Flood never had a choice not to go to college. In the segregated South, the African-American community made sure the best and brightest were groomed and prepared to inherit professional and leadership positions.

Flood's elders thought he would make a fine educator. He didn't let them down. He is regarded today as one of the key figures in the desegregation of North Carolina's public school system -- and he's still building a legacy. On the 50th anniversary of the start of the state's desegregation effort, Flood sits on the UNC Board of Governors.

Three years after the historic 1954 Brown v. Board of Education case that declared racial segregation of the nation's public schools unfair and unconstitutional, North Carolina began to dismantle its segregated school system. Although the 1954 case is regarded as a civil rights milestone, Flood regards a lesser-known ruling as more consequential. Brown v. Board of Education II, decided in 1955, is what moved desegregation forward.

" 'Brown I' didn't tell us anything we didn't already know," Flood told me. " 'Brown II' is what ordered the schools to desegregate with deliberate speed."

But the Supreme Court didn't tell schools how to desegregate. That was left up to the states. In 1957, the General Assembly gave this state's 172 districts the authority to assign black students to white schools. But to gain entrance, strict standards -- high grades, proximity and social adaptability -- had to be met. Athletic ability also helped.

IN THE LATE 1950S, and nearly throughout the 1960s, Flood was a teacher and principal at the all-black school he had attended as a child. He was also a football and basketball coach. Among his fishing buddies were coaches from Ahoskie High, a white school. When Flood had an athlete with college-level potential, he made sure the Ahoskie coaches knew it.

"Black schools never got coverage in the newspapers," he said. "Playing at Ahoskie enhanced a kid's chances of being noticed."

Academics, athletics and social adaptability aside, school desegregation was painfully slow, often contentious and at times violent. And Flood was in the middle of most of it. In 1969, he became an associate superintendent at the state Department of Public Instruction. In reality, his job was to be a point man for school desegregation in North Carolina.

Flood and his team weren't cops, but facilitators. The 1964 Civil Rights Act tied education funding to racial desegregation. That forced many stubborn districts to integrate -- for financial reasons if not for racial harmony.

Whenever trouble loomed, Flood and his people were called in. During the critical years of 1969 through 1973 -- his tenure -- trouble always loomed.

"If we were called out once during a week, we rejoiced," Flood recalled. "That was a slow week." The disputes ran the gamut, from symbolic walkouts to widespread violence that followed the 1971 African-American boycott of Wilmington schools that led to the imprisonment of the Wilmington 10.

ARMED ONLY WITH THEIR WITS and experience, Flood and his white counterpart Eugene Causby defused nearly every tense racial situation they encountered. Invariably, each racial group would try and recruit them as advocates. The tactic never worked. "Our greatest attribute was we were only interested in doing what's right and not caring who was right," Flood said.

In 1973, he was promoted and left the front lines of school desegregation. He looks back at the state's desegregation accomplishments with pride, but worries they may prove short-lived.

"Resegregation of our schools is becoming rampant," he told me. "If the schools become segregated, society won't be far behind."