From Revolution to Reconciliation

Some images of the modern Civil Rights Movement resonate with nearly all Americans. Mentioning a name or situation immediately burns a picture in the mind: Martin Luther King, Jr.'s jailhouse response to critical white clergy--arguing that "justice too long delayed is justice denied;" Eugene "Bull" Connor--his white "public safety" tank, attack dogs, and firehoses; grade school and high school students defiantly leaving school to participate in the Children's Marches; the church bombing and tragic deaths of "4 little girls"--Denise McNair, Cynthia Wesley, Addie Mae Collins, and Carole Robertson. Hard to fathom, but all of these events describe the spring and summer of 1963 in "Bombingham"--Birmingham, Alabama.

Birmingham was the focal point for our last day on tour--with the bulk of our time spent on Sixteenth Street in the vicinity of Kelly Ingram Park. The park, famously or infamously,
hosted some of the most startling images of the movement--young children taking to the streets with every intention of filling up the local jails and white law enforcement setting upon them with dogs and high-powered water cannons. The Southern Christian Leadership Conference's Project C had begun to stall--even in the wake of Martin Luther King's decision to defy local authority, take to the streets in protest, and go to jail himself (where he would draft his "Letter from Birmingham Jail"). The adult Black population of Birmingham had not stepped up in large numbers to support SCLC's program in the city. So, in response, King's lieutenant James Bevel made the suggestion to begin to recruit and train children in nonviolent direct action. Nearby 16th Street Baptist Church would become a major staging ground for the protests.

Today, the park is an anchor for a series of Movement landmarks--including the 16th St. Baptist Church, the Birmingham Civil Rights Institute, and the A.G. Gaston Motel (where King and the SCLC staff typically stayed while working in town). I was struck by the close proximity of all of these sites. Standing in the middle of Kelly Ingram park, visitors have a vantage point of each location and can quickly begin to imagine the memorable scenes from 1963. City officials and private donors have also made this effort easy by placing several monuments to participants in the Movement. As you walk into the park from the entrance diagonally from 16th St. Baptist, there is a statue to the "Drum Major for Justice"--King. Other monuments recognize the dog and firehose attacks and the willingness of children to face real danger in order to fight segregation.














In the center of the park walking path and in the walls that frame the park is the phrase "From Revolution to Reconciliation"--a theme that city leaders of Birmingham want to emphasize to its visitors, and from our perspective a sense that many Birmingham residents are living up to in their daily lives. (I am reminded especially of our experience with legendary jazz musician "Doc" Adams at the Alabama Jazz Museum, and the welcome that some in the group received the last night at Ona's Jazz Club).

The group toured the historic 16th Street Baptist Church later that morning. The congregation has roots in its location dating back to the 1880s, the current building was complete in 1911. It is a stunning piece of architecture on the outside and inside. The 1963 bombing of the church--shortly after the resolution of the Birmingham campaign and March on Washington--, injury of 22, and death of the 4 girls is the focus of most of the tour. The guide provided a video that allowed us to hear the perspectives of members who were there on that fateful day. Rev. John Cross--who was minister to the church at the time--was a prominent voice on the documentary. His recent death--in November 2007--made many on the tour realize how many of these voices have been lost simply because of the steady march of time--others this month include Montgomery's Johnnie Carr and the Rev. James Orange, a veteran of both the Birmingham and Selma campaigns.

One thing that our group has realized on this trip, however, is to expect the unexpected. Our guide provided us an interesting point-of-view. He was 16 years old in 1963, and a participant in the Children's Marches--arrested on the third day. We met and talked to no fewer than three more folks throughout the day--none scheduled to speak to us--who had also left school to march. The last impromptu conversation came from the chef who prepared our final banquet. These experiences validate Julian Bond's contention that the success of the Civil Rights Movement largely came about due to the extraordinary contributions of ordinary people.

We spent the late afternoon and evening with a private tour and banquet at the Birmingham Civil Rights Institute (no doubt another perk of being in a group led by the chair of the NAACP). The directors and volunteers at the Institute could not have been more gracious to us. I must admit that upon arrival, I was not especially looking forward to this, our last museum. I had allowed myself to believe that with all of the museums we had seen over the week, this one could not possibly add or have a different take. I was wrong and apologize directly to Mrs. Odessa Woolfolk--a veteran of the Movement and one of the primary catalysts for the Institute. In addition to an amazing museum that traces Birmingham's development and race relations, it also houses an extensive archive and offers educational programming suitable for all ages.

At dinner, our organizers outdid themselves once more by putting together a great program--including a talk by Mrs. Camille Morgan. Mrs. Morgan and her husband Charles were among the few white Birmingham leaders to speak out against Connor's violence during the marches and also against the bombing of the 16th St. Church. In dramatic fashion, Charles Morgan delivered a speech in 1963 on the theme "Who killed those little girls? We all did." For his break from the mainstream, the Morgans were forced to leave Birmingham in 1963. Other dinner guests included Mrs. Woolfolk (of the BCRI), and Morris Dees and Richard Cohen (of the Southern Poverty Law Center).

The evening ended as the group clasped hands and sang the Freedom Song "We Shall Overcome." An emotional end to a trip of a lifetime. . . . one that I don't think any of us will soon forget, and one that I hope each of us can take back to our communities.

Selma, Lord, Selma

The tour left Montgomery this morning for Selma. We rode the 50-mile route down Alabama Highway 80 to the location of the dramatic 1965 campaign for voting rights organized by members of SNCC (Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee) and SCLC (King's Southern Christian Leadership Conference). During the ride, Professor Bond made that case that the significance of this chapter was that it propelled the platform of the movement from "visibility to influence." Prior to the Selma campaign the Civil Rights Act of 1964 had been signed into law banning segregation in public facilities. After Selma, the Voting Rights Act of 1965 would be signed with president Lyndon Baines Johnson working the immortal and ubiquitous words of the movement, "We Shall Overcome," into his justification for the legislation.

The rewards, however, were not reaped without significant costs. Sheriff Jim Clark, a racial extremist, made every effort to instill order in the small town--including the use of cattle prods against protesters. Beatings became an almost common occurrence--most memorable on "Bloody Sunday" as marchers were billy clubbed by Selma police and Alabama state troopers as they exited Selma via the Edmund Pettus Bridge on 7 March 1965. Four protester, or supporters of the protest, sacrificed their lives over the course of the events. The names of Jimmie Lee Jackson, James Reeb, Jonathan Daniels, and Viola Liuzzo still carry weight in this small town.

The culmination of the Selma campaign came over five days in late March 1965 as supporters from across the country descended on the town in an effort to march to Montgomery and bring attention to the continued injustices practiced in Alabama. Some 25,000 people joined luminaries like Martin Luther King for the march. Famously, he delivered his "How Long? Not Long!" speech on the steps of the state capitol to rousing support.

Our tour took us to two museums and two historic sites. The National Park Service has recently opened the Marchers Memorial and Interpretive Center along highway 80 between Montgomery and Selma. It is a powerful museum. The introductory film was one of the best I've seen on the trip (luckily the gift shop sells copies of "Never Lose Sight of Freedom"). The museum itself is very interactive and accounts the history of the area from the early twentieth century struggle for voting rights to the 1965 protests and marches.

In Selma, we toured the National Voting Rights Museum--an independent operation that strives to focus on the "foot soldiers" of the Selma campaign. Most significant to me was the "I was there" wall, where the operators invite anyone (including the mayor of Selma in 1965 and former state troopers) to write their thoughts on their participation in the event.

Next we proceeded to the historic Brown Chapel AME church. The church was the location for most, if not all, of the mass meetings over the course of 1965. It was the only church to willingly defy a court injunction against more than three black citizens gathering in any place. Brown Chapel seats approximately 1000 and was host to luminaries of the Civil Rights Movement like Ralph Abernathy, Fred Shuttlesworth, Martin Luther King, and Malcolm X.

Finally, our group walked across the Edmund Pettus Bridge together. My sense is that we all had Congressman John Lewis on our mind as we reached the pinnacle of the bridge. He, very famously, was leading what became the Bloody Sunday march. He told us that after that beating, he had no recollection of how he safely got back to the Brown Chapel area. The walk was important to take, but paled in comparison to the drama of 1965.

Weary Feet, Rested Souls

I woke up this morning with lots on my mind mid-trip. Not so surprising, there was as much not necessarily related to the trip that had me a little distracted. My oldest daughter, Elly, is taking her North Carolina Fourth Grade writing test today--Good Luck, Elly. My mom's birthday is today--Happy Birthday, Neta! I'm starting to miss my wife more as the days go by--we are seldom apart for long periods of time. What brought me back to the task at hand was my youngest daughter, Sarah. She's in kindergarten and last week learned for the first time the significance of Rosa Parks and the Montgomery Bus Boycott. So, I felt obligated to be mentally engaged as the group tours the major landmarks of the boycott era.

But, again, I'll get personal and admit that I'm pretty tired at this point. I haven't necessarily slept well, even in our comfortable hotel accommodations. My back is a little stiff from logging several hours on the bus. My feet ache from the walking and standing. . . . And, yes, I realize how selfish these thoughts are in light of where I am today. Black Montgomery residents made a calculated decision to sacrifice more than I could imagine over the course of the year beginning December 1, 1955. Finding creative alternatives to bus travel proved just the start. But, in spite of this sacrifice and suffering, the community galvanizing around the push for Civil Rights and shared the spirit that one participant voiced, saying her "feet were tired, but her soul was rested."

Julian Bond set up our day with a lecture/narrative of the bus boycott. He described it as the "most studied event of the movement--a perfect case study for beginnings, evolution/growth, and success." Montgomery, he argued, possessed the dynamics necessary for a successful movement: pre-existing social organizations to provide stability, catalytic leadership, the ability to tap outside resources, and a distinct strategy.

Fortunately, Montgomery is mindful of its historical significance and has a well-preserved set of sites to guide students, scholars, and tourists through the past.

Our first stop was the parsonage of the Dexter Avenue Baptist Church. The home has been preserved to the way it looked in the mid-1950s when a 25-year old Martin Luther King, Jr. was called to serve the church. It has original and replica furniture that provides a true sense of how the young King family spent both private time as well as pivotal moments organizing the boycott. What stuck me most about the home was the close proximity to the road (Jackson Street). That reality explained why the segregationists who bombed the home in 1956 were able to get away so easily.

We then proceeded to the Dexter Avenue King Memorial Baptist Church--just a little more than a mile toward the downtown area from the parsonage and quite literally a stone's throw away from the Alabama state capital. Our tour guides explained to us that you could stand in the front doorway of Dexter and be in sight of a former location of antebellum slave trading, Jefferson Davis's inaugural site as president of the Confederacy in 1861, and also be standing on the very site of a former slave pen--now church property.

Once inside the sanctuary, I was struck by the intimacy of the place. It was warm and inviting. If the others in the group were anything like me, they were playing the speeches and sermons of Dr. King in their heads and imagining him standing in the pulpit, making the case for the boycott, instructing those in the audience about the philosophy and value of nonviolence, and looking forward to the day where justice could no longer be denied.

The final stop in the bus boycott tour was the Rosa Parks Library and Museum directed by Troy University. Of the three locations, this was by far the most compelling for me. It was an innovative take on presenting the story of the boycott with Parks as the focal point. After some introductory community "voices" from the era, visitors are led into a room made to look like the Montgomery street corner (at Montgomery and Lee) where Parks boarded the city bus on December 1, 1955 and refused to give up her seat. An inventive technological set up allows patrons to have a feel for the size of and actual bus, while a video drama plays out the situation that led to her arrest.

The final large room of the museum plays out the stages of the boycott in meticulous fashion. An amazing collection of primary documents dot the walls that engages visitors in the unfolding history. Moreover, an informative and engaging staff provide the necessary context to help filter through the mass of material in the museum. They rightly touch on Parks as a catalyst and King as a leader, but do not fail to give credit to JoAnn Robinson and the Women's Political Council, Fred Gray's legal savvy, the organization of carpooling circles, and the willingness of thousands of Black Montgomery workers to rely on their feet.

All totaled, Bond reminded us that the greatest effect of the boycott was its ability to bring King to the nation and force the national media to pick up on the story of desegregation efforts in the South. Interestingly, but not surprising, when asked by one of the group the knowledge and interest that Bond himself had in the boycott, he replied that it was interesting, but distant, even foreign. Not so unusual for a 15-year old kid living in Pennsylvania. Bond told the group that the lynching of Emmett Till in Money, Mississippi earlier in 1955 had a greater influence. He and Till were the same age.


Each day thus far for me has had that one significantly moving experience. Without a doubt it was our trip to the Civil Rights Memorial Center of the Southern Poverty Law Center. The center is no more than a block behind the Dexter Avenue Baptist Church. I have admired the vision and work of Morris Dees, Joe Levin, and their associates for a long time. We stood around the memorial outside the center for some time. There, Mr. Levin and Bond explained the design of Maya Lin and encouraged the group to engage with the piece that "chronicles the modern Civil Rights Movement and recognizes the deaths of 40 individuals killed during the struggle."


Inside, current president Richard Cohen gave a talk on the history of the SPLC and accounted the significant leadership of past president Julian Bond and former legal counsel Pamela Horowitz (Bond's wife, who also happens to a key member of our trip). The exhibits inside the center are heart wrenching and moving. They detail the stories of many of the horrific deaths of Civil Rights activists and others killed simply for what they looked like or what they represented. But the SPLC and Civil Rights Memorial Center also offers the opportunity for visitors to make a statement and become part of the Wall of Tolerance--a large room with a cascading list of names. These names represent individuals who have made a commitment to "work in their daily lives for justice, equality and human rights." Seeing my name drift down that wall alongside my travel companions--folks I did not know before Saturday--and hundreds of people I may never know was the most moving thing I've done this week (and that's saying a lot). It was the first time that I've felt directly connected to the legacy of the movement. Before, I have been a student or teacher of this compelling past. Now and in the future, through this simple, yet heartfelt gesture, I am also a participant.

Get on the Bus

Today has been the first lengthy travel that the group has experienced. We left Atlanta early this morning for points west, not far from the Alabama/Georgia border. Our first stop was the small town of Tuskegee, with a dual focus--a tour of the university that bears the town's name and a conversation with lawyer/activist Fred Gray at the newly opened Tuskegee Multicultural Center.

In many ways, Julian Bond had set the tone for this portion of the day with a lecture on the significance of the town (founded in the 1830s) and the Institute (founded under the leadership of Booker T. Washington in 1881). Bond carried us through the familiar themes of Washington's life and work (citing most often Robert J. Norrell's landmark book Reaping the Whirlwind)--emphasis on self-help and economic uplift through industrial education, Tuskegee as a "civilizing agent," and an insistence on high moral character in every aspect of life. He challenged us, however, to recall the world of Tuskegee after Washington's death in the 1910s--introducing many to Charles Gomillion's work and emphasis on voter registration, reminding us of the Tuskegee Airmen and significance of the black-run VA hospital, and active NAACP branch organized in 1945.

Upon arriving at the campus of Tuskegee, the group gathered for a talk by Dr. Charles Thompson at the George Washington Carver Museum. Thompson is the current Chamber president in Tuskegee, PhD in history from Louisiana State University, and former basketball coach at Tuskegee. He graciously oriented us to the campus and its history--reminding the group that some 42 buildings currently on the campus were constructed by the students of the Institute. This feat included the fabrication of the bricks from raw materials. We were led to the Booker T. Washington monument in the center of campus whose text puts his significance in perspective: "He lifted the veil of ignorance from his people and pointed the way to progress through education and industry."

Possibly the most significant treat for me during our time on campus was the opportunity to chat with a member of our tour--Emmett Bassett of Grahamsville, New York. Dr. Bassett (a PhD from Ohio State University) spent time on the campus of Tuskegee during the 1930s and worked as an intern with George Washington Carver on a grant from the New Deal's National Youth Administration. Living history. . . . Doesn't get much better than that.

From there we took the short trip to the Tuskegee Multicultural Center. The Center, under the leadership of T.C. Coley, is making a concerted effort to highlight the contributions of Native, African, and European Americans to the city. Arrangements had been made for us to listen to attorney Fred Gray provide his insight on the Civil Rights Movement. Gray, who still practices law locally at 77 years old, provided pivotal legal support during the heart of the modern Movement. His work includes, but is not limited to: defending Rosa Parks, and supporting the legal justification for the Montgomery Bus Boycott and the efforts to desegregate the city's busing system; Gomillion v. Lightfoot; Williams v. Wallace; and the inquiry into the Tuskegee Syphilis Study. He told the group that while he never intended as a young man to become a lawyer, when he saw the injustices done to Blacks in Montgomery, he vowed to "destroy everything segregated that I could."

After noon, we continued on to Montgomery. There, we took in two very different, yet both compelling art exhibits. The first, at Marcia Weber's Art Objects--which focuses on Folk and Outsider Art--included the works of Mose Tolliver, Anne Tolliver, Mary Whitfield, Howard Finster, Bennie Morrison, and many others. Then, we toured the National Center for the Study of Civil Rights and African-American Culture at Alabama State University. Their most recent exhibition, "Coming By Force, Overcoming By Choice," is a moving collection of works that "presents a visual history of the progress and contributions of African Americans from the time that they were African slaves to the present." Most moving to me were: "Door of No Return," by Baton Rouge artist Ronald Kennedy, "Reconstruction: Jim Crow," by Robert Carter of Dix Hills, New York, "Middle Passage," by Hasaan Kirkland of Charlotte, North Carolina, and John Riddle and Jim Alexander's "The Ballot."

When the group felt we could do no more, we were ushered to the Montgomery restaurant O'dessa's Blessing. The food was fantastic--another soul food feast. No one left hungry--physically or spiritually. Calvin and his staff not only catered to our every culinary needs, but also provided a dinner theater of sorts with an interpretive dance troupe, spirituals, and historical recitations.

All of this was topped by a discussion with Lutheran minister Robert Graetz and his wife. Rev. Graetz was the only White minister who openly supported the Montgomery Bus Boycott during 1955-56. He had only moved to town in June 1955. He had promised his church leaders that he would not go South and "cause trouble." When the boycott began in earnest following Rosa Parks' refusal to give up her seat, Graetz was quick to join. He argued that his conscience was clear because he had no part in starting the business. Graetz made it clear to the audience that the Montgomery Women's Political Council deserved all the credit for making the boycott work from day one. Moreover, he recognized the tireless efforts of the late Johnnie "Mama" Carr who continued her work with the Montgomery Improvement Association even until her recent death.

Sunday on "Sweet Auburn"

The group spent nearly the entire day on Auburn Avenue--the heart of Black Atlanta over the course of the twentieth century. Professor Bond set the tone with some remarks to remind us of the significance of the area beyond it being the location of the Ebenezer Baptist Church and birthplace of Martin Luther King, Jr. The area now also is the home of The King Center, National Parks Service Visitor's Center, and Dr. and Mrs. (Coretta Scott) King's burial site.

The Parks Service has a wonderful Civil Rights museum complete with documentary footage of the Movement from the era of Jim Crow to King's assassination in 1968 running on several different loops. In addition, it has several interactive features that allow guests to respond to the exhibits. One card, titled "Make Dr. King's dream come true," asks you to "pledge to honor Martin Luther King, Jr.'s life and non-violent work by helping to make this world a better, more just place for all people," by respecting all people; living a life of loving, not hating; choosing patience over anger, non-violence over force; and actively helping to promote freedom, justice, and world peace. I left ready to engage that charge at work, at home, in my community, in my world.

Late morning, the group attended the New Ebenezer Baptist Church (set across the street from the original church of both King and his father). The congregation was overwhelmingly welcoming to our group. I got the feeling that they are very accustomed to visitors, expecting to be moved by the Spirit. I was not disappointed. The choir was amazing. In addition to several anthems throughout the service and soft background during prayers, they sang a version of "If I Can Help Somebody" that had the hair standing up on my arms. Soloist Mary Gurley was outstanding. The Rev. Raphael Warnock--senior pastor of Ebenezer--gave the sermon, which reflected his thoughts on the "Black Church Week of Prayer for the Healing of AIDS." It was stirring. He preached from John's gospel--chapter 9--the story of Jesus healing a blind man and his lessons to the Disciples who were overly concerned with the nature of the man's sin. Bringing it to the contemporary context in which 1 of 50 African-American men are infected with AIDS/HIV and 1 of 250 African-American women face the same fate, Warnock argued that "silence in the face of suffering is the real sin." He invited the congregation to participate in church-wide AIDS testing following the service. Among those answering the call were Julian Bond and Congressman John Lewis.

After the service, small groups toured the birthplace of Martin Luther King, Jr.--a site not to be missed. Just a couple of blocks from Ebenezer sits this small Black neighborhood that reflects the economic dynamics of the community in the early twentieth century. The King's upper middle-class dwelling sits across the street from a series of small, shotgun homes that houses the working-class folk of the neighborhood.

Tomorrow--a stop in Tuskegee, Alabama, then on to Montgomery

An Evening with John Lewis

So much to put into words . . . . the entire evening was unbelievable! I'm not sure how the organizers plan to top the first night, with an impeccable dinner at Paschal's Restaurant--followed by a personal memoir of the movement by Congressman John Lewis, in the style of interview by Julian Bond.



Lewis has been a historical hero of mine for a very long time. I admit to being a bit fearful of meeting someone I had admired through books, documentary film, and now in television clips, but Mr. Lewis did not disappoint. He was personable almost to a fault--giving time to each and every member of a 50-person group--all of whom wanted to share a story, ask advice, or just simply offer thanks.


He talked for a little over an hour--giving a detailed account of his perspective on The Movement from the time he first knew about the Montgomery Bus Boycott, to his time as a leader in the Nashville Sit-ins, a participant in the Freedom Rides, speaker a the March on Washington, marcher in Selma, Alabama, and finally, the "Dark Days" of April 1968 following the assassination of Dr. King. Throughout, Lewis exclaimed: "We didn't give up, we didn't get bitter, we didn't become hostile."



A moving experience--no doubt the highlight of my professional career.

Introductory Session

The drive to Atlanta from Charlotte this morning was very pleasant--great weather and very little traffic. My plan was to arrive at the DoubleTree Hotel in Buckhead about 45 minutes prior to the first session. I forgot, however, that my destination was Atlanta, with all the traffic snafus involved. I missed my exit and took the scenic route from the downtown area, back up Peachtree Rd. to the hotel, and arrived at the conference site with about 30 seconds to spare.

The early session was a "get acquainted" opportunity. The 50 participants had an opportunity to introduce ourselves to those in the room. As I imagined, there were many connections to the University of Virginia, but several, like me, had no link at all. The common thread throughout the room was diversity: we represent a broad range of experiences (life, work, region, age cohort--youngest in the 20s, oldest in the 80s), some are academics (teaching college and high school), some were traveling with family members (parent-child, siblings, spouses). All share a passion for The Movement and lifelong learning.

Professor Bond provided an initial lecture that, I feel, will be reflective of the schedule that the group will keep for the next several days. The topic "The World of Martin Luther King, Jr." that outlined the historical precursors that set the stage for the modern-day Civil Rights Movement was well-organized, informative, delivered at an insanely rapid pace, and inspiring.