Celebrating Selma and John Lewis

Next weekend, March 5-7, the march over the Edmund Pettus Bridge in Selma, Al., will be celebrated virtually and for the first time John Lewis will be missing from the front row of marchers. I have compiled some writing on my experiences in Selma and share it here. But let's all be clear. As history from 56 years ago and the fight for voting rights is celebrated, over two hundred laws suppressing the right to vote are being proposed and passed in State Legislatures across the country. How far we haven't come since those bloody days in Selma.

SELMA, ALABAMA 1965 - By Jim Wilson 2/2021

 "Selma,  Alabama became a shining moment in the conscience of man. If the worst in American life lurked in its dark streets, the best of American instincts arose passionately from across the nation to overcome it. There never was a moment in American history more honorable and more inspiring than the pilgrimage of clergymen and laymen of every race and faith pouring into Selma to face danger at the side of its embattled Negroes." Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., March 25, 1965 - Montgomery, Alabama

In March of 1965, I was a college student at St. Anselm's College in Manchester, NH, famous for Presidential Debates even in those years. But how I got there is worth some time and explanation. I had come to St. Anselm's from Maryknoll Seminary in Glen Ellyn, Ill. I had left the seminary the previous year, wasn't sure what I should be doing but chose St. Anselm's partly because my brother was in the Benedictine Monastery associated with the College. Maryknoll was and is a religious missionary order known for its association with social justice issues. Part of why I left the seminary was because it just didn't seem that I could get involved in those social issues quickly enough. It would be eight years before being ordained to the priesthood and before being sent on a mission to some developing nation. In Chicago, farmworkers and others were protesting and demonstrating against Campbell Soup Co.. Priests and seminarians from Maryknoll got involved but it wasn't enough for me. Of course my grades weren't that hot either. So I left in the middle of my Sophomore year, took the summer off and hit St Anselm's running the following fall.

I very quickly found like minded students and professors at St. Anselm's. People concerned about poverty, peace and justice. There was a small, tight group that became involved in the Young Christian Students movement. The organization was involved in various social issues that were facing our world at the time. Lots of things were going on - the war in Vietnam, the draft, the civil rights movement, and much more. Our group got together, discussed issues and got involved in demonstrations and other political action in Boston, Mass.

Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. and the Southern Christian Leadership Council were asked to join other groups that were already working on voter rights demonstrations and issues In Selma, Alabama in late 1964. An injunction had been put in place making it illegal to even talk to two or more people at one time about civil rights or voter registration issues in that city. Dr. King spoke to a mass meeting at Brown Chapel in January of 1965, directly defying the injunction. On February 18, 1965, an Alabama State Trooper shot a young man named Jimmie Lee Jackson as he tried to protect his mother and grandfather in a cafe where they fled while participating in a night time civil rights demonstration in Marion, Alabama. Jackson died 8 days later. On Sunday March 7th, in response to the shooting, about 600 people marched east out of Selma.  Governor George Wallace denounced the march and declared he would take whatever measures necessary to prevent it. The march was led by John Lewis and the Rev. Hosea Williams. They made it only as far as the other side of the Edmund Pettus Bridge, a mere six blocks from Brown Chapel. There, State Troopers and Dallas County Sheriff's and deputized citizens, some mounted on horseback, waited for the marchers. Then in the presence of the news media, the lawmen attacked the peaceful demonstrators with billy clubs, tear gas and whips. As people watched horrified on the TV news, the event quickly became known as 'Bloody Sunday'.

My friends and I, along with millions of other people watched those newscasts taking place on TV. We were shocked and outraged at what we saw and as enthusiastic and probably a bit naive young people, we determined that something had to be done to right this wrong. We began to make arrangements to fly to Selma as soon as possible. We were going to go as a group of 10 or 12 students. At the same time, Martin Luther King, Jr. put out a call for religious leaders and people from the north to head to Selma. He was planning another march on that Tuesday, March, 9th. He sought a court order to prohibit the police from interfering with the march. Instead of a court order, the federal judge issued a restraining order preventing the march until he could review documents and issue an opinion. So, as Dr. King was planning his second march, students from St. Anselm's were planning their trip and arrival in Selma.

Plane schedules and tickets were gotten; people began packing small bags and getting ready for the trip to the airport. As I was cleaning up in the dorm bathroom and showers, my group of friends all came in with long faces. I asked what was wrong and one of them spoke up and said they couldn't go. I said "what do you mean you can't go?" One of the fellows volunteered that they had all called their parents and were told they couldn't go to such a dangerous place. I laughed and asked "why did you call your parents? Of course they'd say no." Right or wrong I had no intention of calling my parents. I had my tickets and planned on making the trip. The rest of the group, along with one of our Benedictine professors drove me later that night to Boston for the long trip to Alabama. I would arrive on Tuesday, alone and scared to death.

So there I was on a small plane to Alabama. Basically I was AWOL from college and later learned I was to be expelled for leaving campus without permission. That changed once it was recognized that St. Anselm's was one of the first colleges represented in Selma.

Dr. King was facing his own political issues as he and the leadership of the Southern Christian Leadership Council along with the Student NonViolent Coordinating Committee were planning the second march across the Edmund Pettus Bridge. It was decided that they would walk across the bridge, kneel and pray and then turn around and return to Brown Chapel. This action wouldn't violate the injunction that had been placed on the march by a sympathetic judge, who in the end, King believed would support the march to Montgomery. But King didn't tell the 2500 marchers who had traveled to Selma about his plans and many became angry and frustrated at what became known as the turnaround march. People had come great distances to be there and to show their support. Dr. King asked people to stay. He explained that another march would take place once the injunction was lifted but many people left.

I landed in Montgomery and was immediately met by a white volunteer who took me to an airport exit and quickly pushed me into a waiting car driven by a young black man. Both of us in our early twenties on an unknown adventure. We exchanged a few words. He thanked me for being there. He told me that he would be driving me to Brown Chapel in Selma. It was beginning to get dark and he warned me that if there were any cars behind us or cars coming toward us that I should duck down and not be seen. When I asked why he told me that Ku Klux Klan members and others knew that local blacks were transporting people from the north to Selma and that they were prepared to beat or kill both drivers and passengers. Suddenly the reality of my trip began to sink in. The fear that I felt that evening stayed with me the whole time I was in Selma.

While I was on that drive there was a murder. One of the ministers who had traveled from the north was beaten while walking the streets of Selma. James Reeb, a Unitarian minister had come to town from Boston just days before. He and some friends had gone out to dinner that night. As they walked past a local hang out they were attacked with clubs and baseball bats. Selma's public hospital refused to treat Reeb and he had to be transported two hours to Birmingham where he died two days later. Reeb's beating and eventual death caused outrage around the country and that in itself created more controversy for Dr. King. Many in the local black community as well as members of the Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee were angry that Jimmie Lee Jackson's death didn't receive the same notoriety or level of concern. They resented the fact that it took the death of a white preacher to get real attention.

I found myself at the picket line on the street in front of Brown Chapel for the next week or so, day and night, singing and praying with the children of Selma. Most of the adults were inside the Chapel. There was a line of protesters and a line of police facing each other. Every time they gave an inch, we took an inch. At a certain point Sheriff Jim Clark and Public Safety Commissioner Bull Connor tied up a clothesline rope and said if anyone crossed that line they'd pay the consequences. That rope became a symbol of confrontation and was dubbed the 'Berlin Wall'. Myself and a few others began singing to the tune of the Battle of Jericho:

They've got a rope that's the Berlin Wall

Berlin Wall, Berlin Wall.

They've got a rope that's the Berlin Wall

In Selma, Alabama.

Hate is the thing that built that wall

Built that wall, built that wall.

Love is the thing that will make it fall

In Selma, Alabama.

On Friday, King asked authorities that marchers be able to go a few blocks to the courthouse steps in Selma to hold a memorial service for Rev. Reeb. His request was refused. On Saturday, small groups of protesters were brought into Brown Chapel, 5 or 6 at a time. Andrew Young, one of King's colleagues who later became UN Ambassador and the Mayor of Atlanta, Ga. explained our next action. Demonstrators outside would try to hold the attention of the police by shouting, singing and going from one end of the street to the other causing the police to change their positions. Basically cause a raucous and raise hell.  He was looking for volunteers to try to continue to fool the police by going out one at a time with a local black companion to make a run for the steps of the courthouse at the same time that all of this was going on. Those who made it would hold the memorial service. I volunteered. My partner was a boy not older than 12. People began going out a side door. People were moving fast. Our time came and we ran like hell across the street, through the projects and through the woods. Branches from trees cut across my face and I was panting hard. In the distance I heard sirens. Jim Clark and his men had discovered our plan. My young partner yelled for me to hurry up and keep running. I realized at that point that we were both a little crazy. We arrived at the courthouse at the same time as the Sheriff and his men. There were others from our group already walking in a tight circle close to the courthouse steps and we joined them. There was always more safety in numbers. Local whites spat on us, swore at us and threatened us physically while deputies laughed and played with their clubs. We were ordered to walk back to Brown Chapel and we did so in a double line to give the impression of a march. Locals jeered us all along the way, spitting in our faces. A small price considering.

At this point, Dr. King was spending a lot of time shuttling between Selma and Montgomery trying to negotiate both the injunction and the court order. More and more people were arriving in Selma as a result of Rev. Reeb's death. There was little housing or shelter other than Brown Chapel, tarps and the projects across the street where black families opened their doors to strangers. Some of us stayed outside in the street. All night and all day. Singing and praying. I eventually got very sick and had to leave for home before the final march from Selma to Montgomery but some of my friends from St. Anselm's eventually got their parents permission and made it. I ended up in the hospital with pleurisy and a collapsed lung.

Eventually 25,000 people including celebrities, students and clergy from all over the country ended up on the capitol steps in Montgomery, protected by the US Army, the National Guard and the FBI. That evening, March 25th, Viola Liuzzo, a white mother of five from Detroit was assassinated by KKK members while she was driving marchers back to Selma from Montgomery. An FBI informant was among the Klansman in the car from which the shots were fired.

Those days and nights in Selma seemed longer than they actually were. It was barely spring. The nights were cool and the rain came for days at a time. What sleep there was, came on a pew in Brown Chapel or on the floor in the apartment of a local black family with other demonstrators. There was no time or place for showers. I had brought the basics with me. When I left Manchester, NH, I really had no idea if I'd be gone for a day or for weeks. The clothes on my back were pretty much what I had - a black suit, white shirt, a black tie, shoes and socks, a black raincoat and a couple of extra pair of underwear. That was pretty much it along with a shaving kit. All of this was basically my uniform from my days in the seminary, black and more black. Intentional or not I looked like a young clergyman from the north. That perception may have saved me once or twice or endangered me more often then I imagine.

Brown Chapel like so many other churches in the south had become the headquarters and center of the demonstrations in Selma. The street in front of Brown Chapel had intersections at both ends and the church was approximately in the center of the block. The street had been barricaded at both ends by the police. The clothesline at the one end had become a symbol rather then a real barrier so the wooden barricades became necessary. In effect, anyone who came to demonstrate became confined in that one block space. There were ways to escape the area. People could find ways to leave a few at a time through the back and on to the streets of Selma. The first Sunday that I was there, myself and two others went to the Catholic Church located in another part of town to attend Mass. We arrived early, went in and met the priest who was preparing for the service. He welcomed us, knew we were civil rights demonstrators and told us as long as no blacks were with us everything would be fine. The church was segregated, I couldn't believe it. I decided not to attend Mass that morning and headed back to Brown Chapel. I didn't really question my religion at the time but I certainly began questioning the people in it.

During the day the block filled with demonstrators singing, chanting and pressing to be allowed to march, a simple symbol of their freedom and rights - denied every day. At this point, a march to the courthouse for a memorial service for Rev. Reeb had become the simple focus. If that could happen, the march to Montgomery would surely follow. During that early period, the crowd of demonstrators was probably 75' deep with other people either in Brown Chapel or milling around in the street. Police presence was always greater at the end of the street where the protesters gathered. Every now and then as part of an organized plan, protesters would move quickly to the other end of the street. Police sirens would wail and cars and horses would ride down a parallel street to meet everyone at the new location at the other end of the block. Frustrations grew and at one point there was talk of meeting force with force but that never happened mainly due to the leadership of Rev. Hosea Williams, Andrew Young and John Lewis.

Mass meetings were held at night inside of Brown Chapel. Songs were sung, speeches given and strategies developed. News of Dr. King's negotiations with the federal government were relayed and recounted. I personally enjoyed taking the night shift outside. The crowd was smaller and we were just really making sure there was a presence continually at the barricade during these times. Most of my partners during those evening and nighttime hours were youngsters. They had beautiful voices and enthusiasm. Sometimes there were 10-15 of us standing there singing to police in helmets and riot gear. It was a time when both sides could look each other in the eye and even converse. There were plenty of mean men but there were also those who pleaded with us to come to our senses and stop what they considered the madness. They told us violence would occur and they didn't want to hurt anyone. They themselves were learning about the power of nonviolence and were uncomfortable with the potential orders they would have to follow. It rained and it poured one night. A tarp was set up and it effectively caught water that eventually would overflow and come down on our heads and necks. A fire burned nearby and we would warm ourselves for short periods. Food and coffee were brought to us from neighbors living along the street. These were the sights and sounds of Selma in 1965 as I remember them now.

What did I feel, learn and see in Selma? Here are a few words and concepts that remind me the most of Selma. Fear - absolute and real; Music and its importance for body and soul; Spirituality - the spirituality of the black people of the south in particular; The children of Selma - children, 7 or 8 to 15 or 16 and all ages in between. They were fearless and offered leadership to their parents and visitors from the north; the seniors of Selma - the elders who had seen it all and who knew things had to change; the hatred of the white community, my race; The absolute authority and abuse of power by the police.

So we know that Selma helped to change our country and civil rights, but how did it change me? What impact did it have on my life - then and in the future? It certainly matured me at least from an experience standpoint. I saw things I had never seen, felt things I had never felt and met people with tremendous passion and leadership qualities. Selma really did help to define me and to define my beliefs about many things. It helped me begin to study the world and people differently. Selma was my introduction to the philosophy of nonviolence. When I went, I knew a little about non-violence but mostly as a tactic. I didn't have any real experience with it. Arriving in this place where violence and intimidation were acceptable when blacks tried to do something as basic as register to vote or to speak up about it, I began to realize that non-violence was much bigger. I became more curious because of what I saw and what I witnessed. Selma opened my eyes to the likes of Gandhi and Dorothy Day and to pacifism as a belief and way of life. It certainly didn't happen overnight, but my mind was opened to writings and ideas that spread the word not just of peace but also about conscience and acts of conscience, civil disobedience and activism. Selma set me off in a new direction and it really was the first time I realized the power and importance of conscience. I would be arrested numerous times for acts of conscience in the future. I would be a part of other movements against violence and injustice and it really all came from that short but important experience in Selma, Alabama in 1965.