Hidden among the newspaper headlines of 1928 is a story that few Bluffton residents have ever heard. At first glance, it appears to be a Charleston story. A bishop, a priest and a tragedy that shocked South Carolina. But as I worked through the newspaper accounts, I was surprised to find Bluffton’s name appearing again and again.
The story begins on a morning in June 1928, when newspapers across the state carried a headline few people could believe.
“Bishop Guerry Is Shot.”
For members of the Episcopal Church, it was almost unimaginable.
Bishop William Alexander Guerry was far more than a church administrator. He was one of the most influential religious leaders in South Carolina, a scholar, author and respected bishop who had guided the Episcopal Diocese of South Carolina since 1907. Friends and colleagues described him as thoughtful, intelligent and deeply committed to his faith. He was also known as a man willing to stand behind his convictions, even when those convictions were unpopular.
Then came the news that stunned the state.
The man who pulled the trigger was not a stranger or an angry outsider. According to newspaper accounts, it was a fellow Episcopal priest, the Rev. J.H. Woodward.
The two men had met privately in Charleston. Witnesses reported nothing unusual at first. The conversation reportedly lasted some time before a gunshot shattered the quiet of the office. Bishop Guerry was critically wounded. Moments later, Woodward took his own life.
The attack dominated headlines throughout South Carolina and beyond. Newspapers followed every update as doctors fought to save the bishop’s life.
As reporters began digging into Woodward’s background, an unexpected place kept appearing in the stories.
Several contemporary newspaper accounts noted that Woodward had previously served at an Episcopal church in Bluffton. To modern readers, that may seem like a small detail, but reporters in 1928 clearly felt it was worth mentioning. Again and again, articles tracing Woodward’s life pointed back to this small river town on the May River.
The deeper reporters looked, the more of Woodward’s Bluffton years surfaced.
Several newspapers noted that while serving in Bluffton, Woodward had been involved in an earlier fatal shooting. According to those accounts, he shot and killed a Black man whom authorities at the time described as a burglar. The incident had occurred years before the attack on Bishop Guerry, but journalists revisited it as they attempted to piece together Woodward’s past. Whether readers then viewed it as an isolated event or something more significant, it became part of the public record surrounding the tragedy.
That discovery caught my attention because it revealed that Bluffton’s connection to the story ran deeper than a passing assignment at a church. The town had become a notable chapter in Woodward’s life long before the events that would make national news.
At the same time, Bluffton’s Episcopal community was part of the larger church world that Bishop Guerry oversaw. During his years as bishop, Episcopal congregations throughout the Lowcountry fell under his leadership within the Diocese of South Carolina. Through confirmations, clergy appointments, parish visitations and diocesan administration, his influence reached communities across the state, including Bluffton.
To understand why the shooting became such a major story, it helps to understand the South Carolina of the 1920s.
Bishop Guerry had become known for advocating greater opportunities for African Americans within the Episcopal Church. His support for creating a Black suffragan bishop generated considerable debate during an era when segregation shaped nearly every aspect of Southern life. Some viewed his efforts as a necessary step toward equality within the church. Others strongly opposed them.
Historians and church records have long pointed to those tensions as part of the backdrop surrounding the events that unfolded in Charleston.
For five days, South Carolinians followed reports on the bishop’s condition. Newspapers carried updates from physicians, hopeful reports of improvement and accounts of visitors coming to his bedside. Many believed he might recover.
Then came the news no one wanted to hear.
On June 9, 1928, Bishop William Alexander Guerry died from complications related to his wounds. He was 67 years old.
His death sent shock waves through the Episcopal Church and across South Carolina. Tributes poured in from clergy, parishioners, civic leaders and ordinary citizens who viewed him as a man of principle and faith. Nearly a century later, his death remains one of the most significant and tragic events in the history of the Episcopal Diocese of South Carolina.
For Bluffton, the story serves as another reminder that our town has always been connected to events far beyond its size. What began as a shocking tragedy in Charleston unexpectedly led back to the May River through a priest who once served here and through the Episcopal institutions that helped shape the spiritual life of the community.
Nearly 100 years later, the old newspaper clippings still tell a remarkable story. A respected bishop. A troubled priest. A tragedy that captured headlines across the South.
And tucked among those yellowed pages, appearing where few would expect it, is the name of Bluffton.
Sometimes history’s biggest stories leave traces in the smallest places. And sometimes those traces are waiting patiently in an old newspaper, just long enough for someone to stumble across them and discover that Bluffton was there all along.
Paul Tollefson is the Director of Tennis at the Hampton Hall Club. He has found a passion in writing and enjoys being able to share the stories and pictures of long-time locals. He is the co-creator of the Facebook page “Bluffton Then and Now.”
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