The Forrest Gump of the Movement: John Lewis and the Alabama Civil Rights Movement

Clare H. Harp Professor Donaldson History of Alabama 5 November 2012

1 In this day and age, almost every person knows a little something about the Civil Rights Movement: how Martin Luther King Jr. was the face of the movement, George Wallaces stand in the schoolhouse door at the University of Alabama, or even the Montgomery Bus Boycott. However, not many are familiar with those who worked alongside King to make the Civil Rights Movement happen. Without these everyday men and women of differing classes, the movement would have been no more than wishful thinking. One such man, who made a huge impact on the Alabama Civil Rights Movement, was John Robert Lewis. Congressman Lewis, whose name does not ring a bell with many, happens to stand out a little more than other activists, as he was present sometimes unintentionally at almost all of what people today consider the most iconic moments in Civil Rights history. You could almost say that he was in the right place at the right time. This paper will explore John Lewis life, as well as his involvement in the Alabama Civil Rights Movement, paying particularly close attention to the Freedom Rides and the March on Selma. Hopefully, this paper will shed light on how it really was back during this tumultuous time in history. Lewis was born on February 21, 1940, in the back woods of Pike County, Alabama to sharecropping parents. Like most that lived around them, the Lewis lived on a tight budget, spending money basically to just put food on the table. Ironically, Governor George Wallace was born about twenty-five miles east of Lewis, in Clio, Alabama. In his memoirs, Lewis reflects on how even though the two were only thirty minutes away geographically, their lifestyles and upbringings were worlds apart. The

2 world George Wallace grew up in was a universe away from mine, he says.1 Lewis grew up like most southern blacks in this time period, in a shotgun house made of wood set on a farm. He would not get a taste of the real world until he left to attend college at American Baptist Theological School in Nashville, Tennessee in 1957. Lewis spent most of his college years doing civil rights work in Nashville, mostly organizing and participating in sit-ins at some of the local stores. Though he was already beginning to make a name for himself, it was not until the Freedom Rides that Lewis started gaining recognition as a major player in the Civil Rights Movement. The idea of a Freedom Ride was nothing new in the 1960s, as both the Fellowship of Reconciliation (FOR) and the Congress of Racial Equality (CORE) originally tested the concept in 1947. In his book Freedoms Main Line: The Journey of Reconciliation and the Freedom Rides, Catsam explains: The group was engaged in a Journey of Reconciliation to test the application of the Supreme Courts 1946 decision in Morgan v. Virginia outlawing Jim Crow seating for interstate passengers.2 The Freedom Rides of 1961, however, would prove to be a crucial time in our nations history, and unfortunately, would add to Alabamas shamefully racist past. May 4, 1961 started out like any other day. You would not know that history was about to be made, as there was hardly any media coverage at the beginning of the Freedom Rides. John Lewis just happened to be one of the original thirteen riders chosen to leave Washington, D.C. A couple of days into the ride, however, Lewis had to leave for Philadelphia for an interview with the American Friends Service Committee, an

John Lewis and Michael Dorso, Walking with the Wind: A Memoir of the Movement (New York: Simon & Schuster, 1998), 20. 2 Derek Charles Catsam, Freedoms Main Line: The Journey of Reconciliation and the Freedom Rides (Lexington: The University Press of Kentucky, 2011), 13.

3 organization that sent people across the world to help build communities as well as housing.3 It was while Lewis was away that the greyhound bus he would have been on was bombed in Anniston, Alabama on May 14.4 Riders aboard the second Trailways bus were experiencing problems as well. Many were badly beaten by Klansmen who got on the bus in Atlanta knowing Freedom Riders were aboard. It could be said that the white Riders got the worst of it, as Klansman saw their activism as betrayal to the so-called superior white race. Raymond Arsenault gives an account of the experiences of two white Freedom Riders in his book: Dragging the defenseless students into the aisle, the Klansmen started pummeling them with their fists and kicking them again and again. At this point [Jim] Peck and Walter Bergman rushed forward from the back to object. As soon as Peck reached the front, one of the attackers turned on him, striking a blow that sent the frail, middle-aged activist reeling across two rows of seats. Within seconds Bergman, the oldest of the Freedom Riders at sixty-one, suffered a similar blow, falling to the floor with a thud . . . While a pair of Klansmen lifted Pecks head, others punched him in the face until he lost consciousness. By this time Bergman was out cold on the floor, but one frenzied assailant continued to stomp on his chest.5 (149,150) They thought they had been through the worst of it, that is, until they reached Birmingham, where a mob was waiting there as well. John Lewis was in Nashville when he heard the news. I felt shock. I felt guilt. That was my bus, my group, he wrote.6 After finishing up his interview the previous day, Lewis had flown from Philadelphia to Nashville and had planned to drive to Birmingham the next day to meet back up with his fellow riders.7 Those plans obviously fell through. Instead, Lewis and other Nashville activists quickly made plans to go down
3 4

Lewis and Dorso, Walking with the Wind, 133. Raymond Arsenault, Freedom Riders: 1961 and the Struggle for Racial Justice (New York: Oxford University Press, 2006), 144145. 5 Ibid., 149150. 6 Lewis and Dorso, Walking with the Wind, 145. 7 Ibid., 144.

4 to Birmingham in a third bus on May 17th.8 After they crossed the Tennessee-Alabama state line, however, things escalated quickly. Lewis recalls his experience in his memoirs titled Walking with the Wind: Once we pulled into the terminal, the other passengers were allowed to leave . . . As spokesman for our group, I stood and told the police that we had a right to get off this bus. We had tickets for Birmingham. We had friends and relatives in this town. One of the policemen stuck his billy club into my stomach and shoved me back into my seat . . . We could see a crowd collecting outside. I couldnt tell if they were just curious or worse. Before any of us had a chance to figure that out, the interior of the bus began to turn dark. The police were taping newspapers over the windows and across the front windshield to keep the crowd from seeing in and us from seeing out.9 Lewis and his fellow freedom riders faced this kind of intimidation for close to three hours. Finally, the police officers let them off the bus, having to create a barrier between the outraged crowd and the riders themselves while walking to the bus terminal. From Birmingham, Lewis and the other riders had initially planned to take a bus down to Montgomery. Little did they know that Bull Connor, the Birmingham Police Commissioner, had other plans in mind. Lewis recalls his first encounter with Conner: Then as the time drew close for the bus to Montgomery to arrive, a man walked in whom I recognized immediately, though Id never seen him before in my life. He was short, heavy, with big ears and a fleshy face. He wore a suit, his white hair was slicked straight back above his forehead, and his eyes were framed by a pair of black, horn-rimmed glasses. Bull Connor.10 During this time, almost every African-American knew this infamous name. In Catsams book, he is introduced as . . . Eugene Bull Connor, high school dropout, former

8 9

Ibid., 148149. Ibid., 151. 10 Ibid., 152.

5 railroad telegrapher turned cracker-barrel minor-league baseball announcer, and one-time reform legislator in the Alabama House of Representatives.11 Known for making down right cruel comments on the subject of race, Bull Connor was not one to be messed with, nor was he about to let some Freedom Riders show him up in his own town. He immediately arrested the riders, claiming that it was for [their] own protection.12 The Riders were soon taken to the Birmingham jail where they stayed for a few nights until Conner returned, telling them that he and a few other officers were going to drive them back to Nashville. It took three police station wagons to carry them all, and Bull Conner ended up driving the wagon that Lewis was riding in. One of the first red flags of this suspicious trip was the fact that it was in the middle of the night. Secondly, Conner insisted on a few reporters joining them on the journey. After a short drive, these suspicions became a reality as Conner had all of the police wagons stop at the Tennessee line.13 The Riders and their belongings were forced out, and the wagons rode away returning to Birmingham. It was no mistake that Conner had left them right in the middle of nowhere. It was also no mistake that this area was one where Ku Klux Klan activity was prevalent. Had it not been for a brave old woman and her husband, who let the Riders stay the night, Lewis and the others very well could have been murdered, and were lucky to make it back to Birmingham. This third group would end up spending the night inside the Birmingham Greyhound Station before setting out for Montgomery the next day, where they, too, experienced violence.14

11 12

Catsam, Freedoms Main Line, 160. Lewis and Dorso, Walking with the Wind, 152. 13 Ibid., 153. 14 Ibid., 157-158.

6 Just four years later, Lewis would become a major player in another highly publicized Civil Rights campaign: The Selma-to-Montgomery March. Unbeknownst to some, civil rights demonstrations had been taking place in Selma since late 1963, soon after the bombing of the Sixteenth Street Baptist Church in Birmingham. From then up until the spring of 1965, racial tensions in Selma and its surrounding areas were continuously on the rise. This tension turned deadly with the murder of a young black man named Jimmie Lee Jackson in Marion, Alabama in February.15 Jacksons death was the final straw and something had to be done. On March 3, the same day as Jacksons funeral, the plan was confirmed. In his book Selma, 1965, author Charles Fager writes: Dr. King confirmed later that day that [James] Bevels plan for a march to Montgomery had become official, to begin from Selma the next Sunday, March seventh; it would, he said, proceed across the Edmund Pettis Bridge and down Route 80. The people were ready to go.16 As Lewis recalls this time in history, he declares up front that controversy seemed to be written all over this campaign. For example, something that really stung the people of Selma was the fact that Martin Luther King Jr. had postponed the march from Sunday to Monday at the last minute. King explained that he needed to preach Sunday morning at his church in Atlanta, as his Civil Rights duties were causing him to miss several sermons. Though this was said, other behind the scenes factors played a part in the delay, something that Lewis would not find out until later. King was facing serious death threats at this time and while King wanted to go to Selma anyway, his inner circle convinced

15

Stephen L. Longenecker, Selmas Peacemaker: Ralph Smeltzer and Civil Rights Mediation (Philadelphia: Temple University Press, 1987), 169 171. 16 Charles E. Fager, Selma, 1965 (New York: Charles Scribner's Sons, 1974), 86.

7 him it was not safe.17 Lewis and a few other major players realized that it was impossible at this point to tell the already hundreds of Selma citizens gathered at Browns Chapel to go home and come back tomorrow. Lewis position as one of the leaders of this march was already secured, but a coin toss was necessary to choose his co-leader. The winner was Reverend Hosea Williams, who was a member of The Southern Christian Leadership Conference. The march was going to take place on Sunday, whether Rev. King was there or not. As Lewis, Rev. Williams, and most of the town of Selma reached the Edmund Pettis Bridge on that March 7, 1965, they had no idea what they were in for. Lewis writes: And then all hell broke loose. The troopers and possemen swept forward as one, like a human wave, a blur of blue shirts and billy clubs and bullwhips. We had no chance to turn and retreat. There were six hundred people behind us, bridge railings to either side and the river below. I remember how vivid the sounds were as the troopers rushed towards us the clunk of the troopers heavy boots, the whoops of rebel yells from the white onlookers, the clip-clop of horses hooves hitting the hard asphalt of the highway, the voice of a woman shouting, Get em! Get the niggers! And then they were upon us. The first of the troopers came over me, a large, husky man. Without a word, he swung his club against the left side of my head. I didnt feel any pain, just the thud of the blow, and my legs giving way . . . I heard something that sounded like gunshots. And then a cloud of smoke rose all around us. Tear gas. Id never experienced tear gas before. This, I would learn later, was a particularly toxic form called C-4, made to induce nausea. I began choking, coughing. I couldnt get air into my lungs. I felt as if I was taking my last breath. If there was ever a time in my life for me to panic, it should have been then. But I didnt. I remember how strangely calm I felt as I thought, This is it. People are going to die here. Im going to die here. I really felt that I saw death at that moment, that I looked it right in its face ... That was the way those first few seconds looked from where I stood and lay.18
17 18

Lewis and Dorso, Walking with the Wind, 324. Ibid., 327328.

It would come to light later that the blow to Lewis head had actually fractured his skull.19 What had begun as a peaceful, walking protest had now turned into a nightmare in a matter of minutes. Authorities were not backing down, and Lewis had no choice but to herd as many marchers as possible back to the church to escape further violence.20 At the end of the day, it was a miracle that no one had actually been killed during the encounter. However, from then on, it was appropriately referred to as Bloody Sunday.21 News travelled fast as people across the country were hearing about Bloody Sunday and seeing images on the cover of newspapers. It became clear to government officials that state law enforcement could not be trusted with this. However, a hearing to grant activists permission to march could not be heard until that Thursday, which in the mind of most marchers, was too far away.22 If it were up to them, they would have tried to march again the very next day. The final decision on whether to march on that Tuesday or wait for the hearing was ultimately left up to Martin Luther King Jr. He compromised with the government officials by leading a small group over the bridge Tuesday, saying a prayer, then leading the group back to the church in a symbolic fashion.23 Naturally, people were stunned and angry that King had retreated until a verdict was reached about the actual march to Montgomery. Lewis reflected, I had no problem with what Dr. King did. I thought it was in keeping with the philosophy of the movement, that there comes a time when you must retreat, and that there is nothing wrong with retreating. There is nothing
19 20

Fager, Selma, 1965, 96. Lewis and Dorso, Walking with the Wind, 329. 21 Ibid., 331. 22 Ibid., 333. 23 Fager, Selma, 1965, 103105.

9 wrong with coming back to fight another day. Dr. King knew we all knew that Judge Johnson was going to give us what we were asking for if we simply followed procedure, followed the rules.24 As predicted, permission was granted, and all geared up for the march that would take place on March 21, 1965.25 The march itself lasted for five days, and the participants were full of hope and ready to prove themselves. Lewis endearingly writes: We covered seven miles the first day, accompanied by the constant clicking of cameras as dozens of photographers and reporters circled us all the way. We stopped that night at a prearranged site, as spelled out in the plans we had given Judge Johnson. A man names David Hall, who worked for the Carver housing project as a maintenance manager and who owned an eighty-acre farm at the east edge of Dallas County, offered his land for us to pitch our tents that first night. The father of eight children, Mr. Hall, who was black, was asked whether he feared retaliation from the white community for doing us such a favor. The Lord, he answered simply, will provide.26 As the march progressed, more people would join in each day, as the momentum and spirit of the event was contagious. The people marched an astounding sixteen miles that second day, eleven miles on the third day, another sixteen on the fourth day, and finally, six miles on the fifth day to reach the State Capitol.27 Given that this was such a big event, it was no surprise that a handful of celebrities showed up to march. However, the organizers made sure that the spotlight stayed on the men and women who made the march possible. It was the brave citizens of Selma who worked fearlessly over the years to make the March to Montgomery a reality. We made a point to put them at the front of the march, right behind the row that led the way, Lewis says.28 Of course, there were

24 25

Lewis and Dorso, Walking with the Wind, 335. Ibid., 341. 26 Ibid., 343344. 27 Ibid., 344345. 28 Ibid., 342.

10 many notable Civil Rights activists leading the march, but that certainly was not all. Stephen Longenecker made sure that this eclectic group of leaders was recognized in his book Selmas Peacemaker: Ralph Smeltzer and Civil Rights Mediation: In the forefront with King and Abernathy were the Right Reverend Richard Millard, Suffragan Bishop of the Episcopal Diocese of California , Cager Lee, the grandfather of Jimmie Lee Jackson, John Lewis, SNCC president, Deaconess Phyllis Edwards of the Episcopal Diocese of California, Rabbi Abraham Heschel, professor of Jewish mysticism and ethics at the Jewish Theological Seminary in New York, and F. D. Reese.29 Needless to say, this was a march by the people for the people. Sure, equal voting rights for African Americans was the main cause behind the event, but the march also promoted equality for all Americans, regardless of race, gender, or religious views. By this point, it was impossible for George Wallace not to take notice of what was coming his way. Lewis writes: I could see the Alabama state flag flying high above the rotunda dome, along with the flag of the Confederacy. But the American flag was nowhere in site. Neither was George Wallace, though we learned later that he watched the entire afternoon, peeking out through the drawn blinds of the governors office.30 The marchers had accomplished what they had set out to do and the whole thing seemed for the most part to run smoothly. Though the actual march was successful, one must not forget that this was still Alabama and the Klan was still out there. A white woman from Michigan, Viola Luizzo, who had come down to join in the march was helping take African American marchers back to Selma. Assisting her was a young black man by the name of Leroy Moton. They were driving through Lowndes County when the
29 30

Longenecker, Selmas Peacemaker, 187. Lewis and Dorso, Walking with the Wind, 345.

11 Klan caught up with the car and shot Mrs. Luizzo twice in the head. Naturally, the car ran into a ditch and the Klan checked to make sure that there were no survivors. What they did not know was that Moton had survived, but was only playing dead. After the Klan members drove away, Moton ran frantically down the road until he was able to find help.31 Needless to say, President Johnson was absolutely furious. Charles Fager writes: Within twenty-four hours President Johnson was on television, personally announcing the arrest of the four assailants, and vowing to exterminate the Ku Klux Klan . . . He called on the House Committee on Un-American Activities to begin an investigation of the organization immediately. He promised to propose legislation that would control these enemies of justice who for decades have used the rope and gun and the tar and the feathers.32 And that is just what Johnson did. Again, living up to his nickname as the Forrest Gump of the Movement, John Lewis was right there when the Voting Rights Act of 1965 was signed a little over four months after the march had taken place.33 Lewis recalls that day in his memoirs: Earlier that morning I was invited to meet privately with the President in the Oval Office . . . This was my first visit to the White House since the March on Washington, and my first one-on-one visit with a President . . . The signing that afternoon in the Presidents Room of the Capitol the same room in which Abraham Lincoln signed the Emancipation Proclamation was a powerfully moving moment for me . . . After signing the bill, Johnson gave pens to Dr. King, Rosa Parks and several other civil rights leaders, including me. I still have mine today, framed on the wall of my living room in Atlanta, along with a copy of the bill itself.34
31 32

Fager, Selma, 1965, 163164. Ibid., 164165. 33 Lewis and Dorso, Walking with the Wind, 346. 34 Ibid.

12

In conclusion, the Civil Rights Movement played a crucial role in Alabamas often tumultuous history. Though it is not one of the proudest times in the states history, it is history nonetheless. John Lewis, along with thousands of others, fought against an unjust system for what they believed in and came out successful on the other side. Hopefully, readers have acquired a better understanding of this era in Alabamas vast history and an overall sense of just how many people were involved. John Lewis may have been one of the greatly influential leaders of the Movement, but at the end of the day, he is just one person. It was the coming together of thousands upon millions of Americans, black and white, to stand up for what they believed in that makes the Alabama Civil Rights Movement something worth studying about today.

13 Bibliography Arsenault, Raymond. Freedom Riders: 1961 and the Struggle for Racial Justice. New York: Oxford University Press, 2006. Catsam, Derek Charles. Freedom's Main Line: The Journey of Reconciliation and the Freedom Rides. Lexington: The University Press of Kentucky, 2011. Fager, Charles E. Selma, 1965. New York: Charles Scribner's Sons, 1974. Lewis, John, and Michael D'Orso. Walking with the Wind: A Memoir of the Movement. New York: Simon & Schuster, 1998. Longenecker, Stephen L. Selma's Peacemaker: Ralph Smeltzer and Civil Rights Mediation. Philadelphia: Temple University Press, 1987.