Sunday, February 3, 2019

Civil Rights Events
Albany Movement
MLK Comes to Help
 
 
Dr. Anderson, President of the Albany Movement, interviewed in 1985 by Eyes on the Prize, explained why Martin Luther King, Jr. was asked to come to Albany.
 
When we got to the point that we had this many people in jail… When we had this many people in jail, we had a meeting of the Albany Movement that night and we all recognized that we had no experience in what we were doing. We had never been involved in mass demonstrations, mass arrests. We had no provisions for bonding. No provisions for taking care of families of people who were in jail. And recognize that this was not a select group. These were common, ordinary, everyday people, housewives, cooks, maids, laborers, children out of school. We had made no provisions for these people going to jail because we did not anticipate the mass arrests. So we concluded that night that we are into something that really we need some expert help in someone who has had the experience. And I knew Dr. King from years earlier. Ah, my wife and Dr. King had been high school schoolmates, and my wife's brother and Dr. King were classmates and very close friends at David D. Howard High School here in Atlanta. And I indicated that I felt that I knew Dr. King well enough that if I were to call him he would come down and help us. Needless to say, there was not total agreement initially with issuing this call. Because recognizing that now SNCC was on the scene and by virtue of the Freedom Riders coming through CORE was on the scene, and they did also have established organizations. They wanted to protect the integrity—integrity of those organizations. We also recognize that to the extent that they received some publicity it helped to further their cause and they would be able to raise money to continue their activities. But anyway, we were able to get unanimous decision of the Albany Movement to call in Dr. King. So that night I tracked down Dr. King. I don't remember where he was at the time. But I called him personally. And he— he merely asked of me if this is the desire of all involved. And I said, "Yes it is." And he asked that I send him a telegram to that extent. And I did. …  I indicated on the telegram all the organizations that were represented now in the Albany Movement. And, he responded to that call.
 
… Dr. King, right, he came there with not even an overnight bag or a toothbrush. Responded to my call, And I do not anticipate that he expected to get as intimately involved with the Albany Movement as he did (interview 6).
 
Accompanied by his close friend Ralph Abernathy, King arrived in Albany [December 15] prepared to deliver a speech to the local population …. The news of King’s arrival packed Shiloh and Mount Zion [Churches]; even people from surrounding towns traveled to Albany to hear the famous preacher speak. King delivered his speech to an enthusiastic audience, emphasizing the strengthening of community resolve. King urged those gathered to “keep moving,” opining that they would overcome segregation “with the power of our capacity to endure.”
 
After Dr. King spoke, Dr. Anderson took the pulpit and informed the congregation that King would remain in Albany and would lead a march on city hall the next morning. Although not planning on marching in Albany, King claimed he was moved by the spirit he felt in the Albany population. “I cannot rest, I cannot stand idly by, while these people are suffering for us so that we can obtain a better social order.”  This ran counter to SCLC executive Andrew Young’s assessment, who noted that “Martin had no intention of going to jail in Albany.”
 
…
 
On December 16, 1961, Albany policemen arrested King, Abernathy, Anderson,
and 265 Albany residents without incident for parading without a permit in front of city
hall. Refusing bail, King vowed to remain in jail until the city made concessions to the
Movement’s requests for limited desegregation.   However, three days after making this
promise, King reneged, as Anderson began suffering severe anxiety attacks, perhaps
brought on by his own admitted fear of jail. He absolutely refused bail by himself, and as
a result, King accepted bail on December 18 (Nelligan 21-26).
 
Dr, Anderson recounts: Dr. King and I had met with the masses of people at an early morning rally. By the end of the week there were regular demonstrations going on practically everyday. And Dr. King, Dr. Abernathy, along with my wife led a demonstration that involved several hundreds of people. And we were arrested and dispersed throughout Southwest Georgia (Interview 7).
 
Interviewed March 9, 2013, for the Civil Rights History Project, Mary Jones spoke of her first arrest and incarceration.
 
The children [students] had marched first.  … [The local newspaper said] “The grownups – they too scared to march so they pushed the children out to do that work.   …  My oldest daughter was locked up too, 11 years old.  ….   “No, that aint going to go,   So we organized right there to the mass meeting.  And who wanted to march?  All the hands went up.   …  We marched … by the old jail … about 700 of us.  … The thing that we had to straighten out because they said we sent Martin Luther King to come do our job.  We didn’t say for him to come march. 
 
I was in there [jail] from Monday, about 11 o’clock to Thursday when my father came and bond me out.  … We was in every jail around here.  I went to Baker County jail.  …  They had the billy club.  “Get on in here. You marching.”  They had warned us one time:  “If you don’t stop that singing and go home, you gonna be locked up.”  And we got louder then.  “Aint gonna let nobody turn me around.”  And so we marched around about two more times and sure enough they told us we was under arrest.  And back then the jail was so small it had a little place in the back.  … That’s where they put 700 of us.  We was all on top of each other almost.   They let us stood out there about 3 or 4 hours and it was pouring down rain out then.  Then they finally let us come in and they booked us.  And then sent us different places. 
 
The Baker County [jail] would hold like about 8 or 10 and they put 25 in there.  One bed, the mattress was split in the middle and on the floor, the sink was running, the water had wet the mattress.  And that was where we had to stay, sit on the floor.  … And pray and cry.  Every night they would come out with some German shepherd dogs and they would put them all almost two to the window but they had a fence around … and they would make them dogs so mad they would be barking going on and they said, “We ought to be going in there.  We ought to open the gate and let these dogs go in there and eat ‘em up.  So what they do then?”  … Boy, we would sing louder and pray and everything.

When they feed you food,  … the peas was so hard you could hardly cut them, couldn’t eat them.  Grits the same way.  They take the butter and put it right in the middle of the greens and throw the bread right on top of it.  ….  Grits and bread and peas, black-eyed peas, like that, and we were so tired that we just … I tell you the truth it was rough and tough, but if I had to do it again I would have done that (Mary 1-2).

Dr. Anderson would relate: There was not a major newspaper in the world that was not represented in Albany. Not a major television station in the United States or a television network in the United States that was not represented in Albany. And having been there before Dr. King came and knowing of the activity that we had before Dr. King, and having seen the results of his coming there in terms of the increase in the number of media people present, I know that they came there because Dr. King was there. He was a media event. We felt as though we needed the media attention because we thought that we could not get what we were looking for by appealing to the local people. There would have to be outside pressure, and the only way we could get the outside pressure would be that the media would have to call to the attention of those outside people what was happening in Albany.
…

On Monday morning following these arrests we were carried to the courthouse in Albany, and negotiating teams were identified and charged with the responsibility of meeting with us as leaders of the movement and meeting with members of the City Council to see if we could somehow resolve our differences. And end these mass demonstrations and arrests.

The negotiators reported to us. And I was seated in the court at the time with Dr. King and Dr. Abernathy [;] a tacit agreement had been reached with the city whereby they would set into place mechanisms whereby our concerns would be answered. And certain specific changes would take place in the city. And they included things like desegregation of the bus station. Desegregation of some of the public facilities like lunch counters, the bus station, the train station and some of the other facilities. We asked that this be placed in writing, and Dr. King was quite emphatic with requesting that—that this agreement be placed in writing. But we were given the assurance through the intermediaries that these were honorable people who were making this agreement and it would be given to the press in the form of a statement. And we felt as though there was a certain amount of security in having such an agreement made public knowledge, and being given to what we considered a sympathetic press. And we accepted the agreement. There were some who were uncomfortable with it. Dr. King was uncomfortable with it. Attorney C.B. King was uncomfortable with it. But we all agreed that we—that it was in the best interests of the people of Albany to have the matter resolved and to accept the agreement, with it being publicized.

They reneged 100 percent. Oh, part of the agreement was that—that all of the people who were in jail and there were several hundred in jail at the time, would be permitted to—to post straw bonds—no money—straw bonds. And those who had placed up cash bonds, the money would be returned and these cases would never be brought to trial. They reneged on each and every one of those commitments (Interview 8-9).

King was released on bond the day after his appearance in court and left the city, not to reappear until his trial commenced in February.  His departure from Albany … strengthened his claim of wishing to remain a non-factor in continued discussion between the Council and the Movement. Independent of community opinion, King’s actions seem logical, especially given the fact that he had not been aware of the true nature of the settlement. However, King and the SCLC’s lack of understanding regarding community opinion and expectations meant his actions had a much more negative effect on the Movement than either would have thought.

Albany blacks met the settlement with a mixture of anger and disappointment.  Worked into a frenzy by King and other leaders, black citizens faced a settlement that failed to reward them for their days in rural Georgian jails. For those who had gone to jail and lost their jobs, the settlement was unacceptable. As Howard Zinn, reporting on Albany for the Southern Regional Council, concluded “many of those jailed for protesting viewed the settlement as ‘pitifully small payment for weeks of protest, for centuries of waiting.’”  Few in the community would forget that they had lost their jobs and endured terrible conditions in jail only to be granted petty concessions. This loss of interest and morale severely compromised the Movement’s ability to increase support.  Even among the leadership, there was little optimism. As an anonymous leader within the Albany Movement remarked, “It’s nothing to shout to the rafters about.”  Few would forget that they had marched to prison with a man who had now bailed out and left town, leaving them in prison with no semblance of progress.

The transition to economic boycotts and selective buying campaigns in the period between King’s release in December and his trial in February demonstrate that black Albany retained interest in fighting segregation, as long as that support did not necessitate arrest. Perhaps the most successful aspect of economic protest revolved around the boycott of the city bus system. Busing was provided by a private company, and blacks comprised an overwhelming majority of those that patronized the service. The boycott hit the bus company hard, with the owners openly admitting that they needed help.  They met with members of the city council who, using their influence among wealthy businessmen in town, were able to subsidize the company in order to keep it afloat, to the tune of $3,000 a day.  By doing this, the Albany white community signaled that it was willing to pay the price to maintain segregation in Albany.

When Anderson and other leaders brought concerns over transportation desegregation to the City Council, Mayor Kelley brushed aside the requests, asked for ten days to consider it, and then adjourned the meeting.  While personally in favor of at least considering some conciliatory reforms, Kelley found no support among other members of the City council, who uniformly opposed any altering of segregation laws, knowing that as long as they refused to yield, the Movement was virtually powerless to stop them. Despite his own personally moderate opinion, Kelley did not allow any semblance of division to reach the press or the black community, realizing that any sign of division would weaken the segregationist cause.

Continued boycotting of the bus system paid off in early February, when the bus company was forced to shut down. Black participation rates, estimated to be over ninety percent, made the boycott quite effective. But the effect of this shutdown was worse for the black community than it was for the white. Wyatt T. Walker [executive director of SCLC] stated: “the bus company went bankrupt, and the black people who made up seventy percent of its ridership were inconvenienced and the Albany Movement had no semblance of victory.”  Unlike in Montgomery, Albany leaders had no plans to deal with the logistical difficulties arising from lack of transportation for the community.  The protest had hurt the white community, but not to the point of forcing concessions. The wealthy members of the community who sat on the City Council and held economic power were unaffected as a whole as a result of the boycott. Again, blacks were sacrificing without any tangible result.

The boycott against white businesses also proved effective, although not as successful as the bus boycott. Some white businessmen lost over fifty percent of their business as a result of these selective buying campaigns. At city council meetings held over the next few weeks, local merchants responded to the economic pressure by urging members of the city council to accept token reforms, such as integrating the bus system, hoping that if these demands were met, the boycott would cease. Unlike the busing crisis the vocal support of the merchants for race reform represented positive pressure against the City Council. However, desegregation could not happen without a city council vote to change segregation laws, something the council refused to do. In order to bolster support for their decision, council members framed the vote as a defense of the city’s law-making ability. “This is a struggle to decide who makes the policy in this city,” said council member C.B. Pritchett.  Criticism from local white merchants continued, but in the end many of the merchants accepted the losses. Pritchett recounts being told by a group of merchants that “we’re losing money, but we know what this is. And we’re going to stand back; we’re not going to put any pressure. Just go ahead.”  “This” was a war over segregation and the status quo in Albany. Even though they were hurting economically, the portion of the white community most adversely affected by civil rights protest held the interests of segregation over their own economic success, revealing the solidarity the white community had in fighting segregation. Although the black community participated and supported in large numbers, far larger than had been involved in marches, economic protest would have little tangible effect upon the overall Albany Movement (Nelligan 27-31).
 
Works cited:
 
“Interview with Dr. William Anderson.”  Eyes on the Prize Interview.  November 7, 1985.  Washington University Digital Gateway Texts.  Web.   http://digital.wustl.edu/e/eop/eopweb/and0015.1042.003drwilliamganderson.html

“Mary Jones Oral History Interview Conducted by Will Griffin in Albany, GA, 2013-03-09.”  Civil Rights History Project.  Library of Congress.  Web.  https://www.loc.gov/collections/civil-rights-history-project/?fa=subject%3Aalbany+movement+%28albany%2C+ga.%29%7Csubject%3Ainterviews

Nelligan, Brendan Kevin.  “Lessons of Albany: Civil Rights Protest in Albany, Georgia 1961-62.”    Providence College: DigitalCommons@Providence.  Fall 2009.  Web.  https://digitalcommons.providence.edu/cgi/viewcontent.cgi?article=1001&context=student_scholarship

 

Sunday, January 27, 2019

Civil Rights Events
Albany Movement
Filling the Jails
 
Students at the local Black college, Albany State, were anxious to launch protests against segregation. They were in a rebellious mood toward the conservative campus administration and pushed the college president to address their demands about conditions on campus.
 
Sherrod and Reagon concluded that it was important to create a mass movement in the regional metropolis before working in the rurals where Black people made up a majority of the population. The duo from SNCC began conversations with students on Albany State’s campus but were quickly kicked out by a nervous school administration. But it was too late, Sherrod wrote, “We delivered the idea that would disrupt the system” (October 4).
 
Charles Sherrod ... slowly gained the confidence of the people by living with them, working in the community, and giving voice to the aspirations of the people. His work there, along with Charles Jones and Cordell Reagon, was a model of the way an "outside" group works with a community anywhere in the South. Never in a hurry, the task was to lift fear that engulfed the Albany Negroes, continue the momentum of the previous spring, and teach the people what their rights and potentialities might be. The leadership was one of encouragement from the middle, rather than a take charge one (Browning 1).
 
On November 1, Sherrod and Reagon went to the Greyhound terminal to witness the results of an attempt made by Albany State College students to integrate waiting room facilities.
 
When the SNCC pair arrived, however, they saw only a small group of Albany policemen, headed by Chief Pritchett. The pair was confused over the lack of student support. The absence of student protestors resulted from a Youth Council decision to postpone the test without informing Sherrod or Reagon. As a result, the SNCC secretaries quietly slipped out of the terminal.
 
Leaving the station, Sherrod and Reagon found the Albany community in a state
of chaos.  … The fear of openly defying the status quo of segregation motivated inaction in the community, even among supposed student supporters. Sherrod and Reagon eventually prodded nine students back to the Trailways bus station, but only with intense cajoling. Arriving at the station, the nine students attempted to seat themselves in the white waiting room. Almost immediately, Chief Pritchett ordered the students to disperse. Obeying, the students retreated back to town to confer with Sherrod and Reagon. Though extremely minor by later standards of protest, the students’ attempt to desegregate the station led to widespread black interest in protest activities, even among adults who had previously shunned the methods of the SNCC secretaries. The SNCC workers’ organizing had elicited fear and panic, but the students’ action led to black community support that was otherwise absent. In order to challenge the city from a legal standpoint, the NAACP and other Albany adults agreed to support a test arrest at the station.
 
Realizing the need to organize the community, the leaders of SNCC, the NAACP,
and other groups met on November 17, 1961, to form what became known as the Albany Movement.  The Movement selected William G. Anderson, a local doctor, to head the
Movement as its president, recommended by C.B. King, a well-respected black lawyer.
C.B. King may have been motivated by the fact that Anderson “was a relative newcomer
and had not had the opportunity to make a lot of enemies around town” (Nelligan 7-9).
 
Interviewed in 1985, Dr. Anderson recalled: “A number of the civic and social organizations sort of got together and—and decided all in one night—the people in the community apparently are ready for whatever is happening. We are their leaders. And we are not ready for what the people appear to be ready for. So we decided at that time it would be better for us local leaders to give some direction to whatever is happening than for these outsiders to give that direction. So we decided … then that we representatives of the established civic and social organizations of the city of Albany should bind ourselves together. And we should become a part of what was happening, because the people apparently are ready for a change, and we their leaders have not taken the lead in this endeavor. And so after a good deal of conversation about what shall we call ourselves? And naturally we tossed around all sorts of names, but when the … words ‘Albany Movement’ were spoken it sort of took hold at that time” (Interview 3).
 
Up to this point, protest in Albany remained limited to actions by students trained
and counseled by Sherrod and Reagon. The small scale protest that resulted at the
Trailways terminal on November 1 and the ensuing student enthusiasm made many
blacks feel obligated to support their own children by joining in on protest activities.
“The kids were going to do it anyway,” local parent and later activist Irene Wright stated.
“They were holding their own mass meetings and making plans…we didn’t want them to
have to do it alone.” While many black adults favored the legal action and negotiation
promulgated by the NAACP to direct positive action, they nevertheless supported SNCC
protest because of their children’s involvement in it. As a result, a committee was formed
[that]“petitioned the City Council to set into place some mechanism…of desegregating the City of Albany,” as well as preparing for more positive action, such as demonstrations and arrests.  The support of the parents was important, but there existed a great divide between support and dedication. More reluctant members of the community now supported the Movement. The question now would be whether that support would translate into action.
 
…
 
Headed by Mayor Asa Kelley, the City Council had a notable history of ignoring any and every complaint brought before it by the black community.  Prior to the Albany Movement, most of these complaints centered around maintenance of public works in African-American communities, such as unpaved streets and sidewalks. The pattern of ignoring black community issues continued, as Anderson’s initial audience with the City Council ended in him being told that the council “determined that there is no common ground for discussion, and did not deem it appropriate to have it as an agenda item.” The next day the local newspaper, the Albany Herald, answered for the white establishment even more emphatically. The paper characterized Anderson as a hothead, and decried any attempt to change the status quo in Albany, going so far as to list Anderson’s address and telephone number for any “interested” party, which would be used by whites to threaten and bother Anderson throughout his time as president of the Albany Movement (Nelligan 10, 12-13).
 
On November 22, just a few days before the Thanksgiving holiday, three young people from the NAACP youth council and two SNCC volunteers from Albany State were arrested in the Trailways terminal. The NAACP youth council members were released on bond immediately after their arrest.  However, SNCC volunteers Bertha Gober and Blanton Hall declined bail and chose to remain in jail over the holidays to dramatize their demand for justice.
 
After the holiday [November 25], more than 100 Albany State students marched from campus to the courthouse where they protested the arrest of Gober and Hall. A mass meeting–the first in Albany’s history–occurred at Mt. Zion Baptist church to protest the arrests, segregation, and decades of racial discrimination. The music, especially, was powerful, mirroring the Movement that had begun to emerge. Reflecting on this moment, Bernice Johnson Reagon [Cordell Reagon’s future wife] said, “When I opened my mouth and began to sing, there was a force and power within myself I had never heard before. Somehow this music … released a kind of power and required a level of concentrated energy I did not know I had” (Albany 2).
 
The meeting and the march were held after the SNCC notified the Department of Justice that the city of Albany did not follow the Interstate Commerce Commission ruling which prohibited discrimination in interstate bus and railway stations (Movement 1).
 
With the community now energized, recently arrived SNCC field secretary
Charles Jones met with Sherrod and Reagon to discuss their next move. The challenge
faced now by the organizers was how best to maintain the assault upon Albany’s
segregation without alienating more cautious and conservative members of the
movement, who still favored petitioning the city council. Should SNCC push too hard,
they feared being branded as agitators. Community support was not yet so strong as to
permit the SNCC members to call for demonstrations that required mass arrests and
filling the jail. On the other hand, the men did worry that if they did not push hard
enough, the Movement would lose enthusiasm rapidly. Sherrod, Reagon, and Jones
decided to appeal for outside support.  …
 
The SNCC workers settled on the solution of asking James Forman, executive
director of SNCC, to organize a Freedom Ride to Albany in an attempt to raise and
maintain community support. Forman agreed, and enlisted eight others to join him in
integrating Albany’s interstate terminal. By using the Freedom Riders, Sherrod, Reagon,
and Jones hoped to avoid charges of provocation, while maintaining the enthusiasm for
protest in the Albany community.  …
 
On December 10, 1961, nine Freedom Riders from Atlanta arrived at the Albany
Trailways bus terminal and were met by a crowd of approximately three hundred black
onlookers and a squad of Albany policemen. Chief Pritchett arrested the riders without
incident, telling the press that white Albany would “not stand for these troublemakers
coming into our city for the sole purpose of disturbing the peace and quiet in the city of
Albany,” framing the city’s opposition in domestic rather than racial rhetoric.  The
arrests resulted in the desired galvanization of the black community. The following day,
mass meetings filled Shiloh Baptist and Mount Zion Churches. With the continuation of
support, movement leaders, specifically the SNCC secretaries, began implementing their
ultimate strategy of filling the jail in order to force the city into negotiations (Nelligan 13-14).
 
That night we had a meeting of the Albany Movement at which time we decided that we would not let these people stay in jail alone, we would fill up the jails. That next morning, at breakfast, I [Dr. Anderson] was advising my wife and my kids that their father and husband would very likely wind up in jail before the week was out, because the Albany Movement had decided that the best way to respond to first ignoring the petition of the Albany Movement, and secondly to arresting these Freedom Riders, the… the most appropriate response would be mass demonstrations. And I said, "I'll probably wind up in jail, and I want you kids to understand why this is being done" (Interview 4). 
 
Leaders called for volunteers to march on city hall the following morning.  Privately, Sherrod recognized the importance of getting people into jail and keeping them
there, and evidence suggests that he told his closest supporters of this fact. This “jail, no
bail” strategy, however, was evidently not shared with the masses assembled in Shiloh
and Mount Zion, or even with other members of the movement. Anderson, while fully
expecting to be arrested himself, stated “we had no provisions for these people going to
jail because we did not anticipate mass arrests.”  While Anderson acknowledged the
strategy of filling the jails, he also was not prepared for mass arrests. It is likely Anderson believed that few arrests would be necessary in order to completely swamp the jail facilities, and that the arrest of the movement leaders and a few others would compromise the Albany police department’s ability to make arrests.  It is unclear how many of those preparing to march were aware that they might be arrested. The last time the black community marched to city hall, the police arrested no one, and it is possible that many assumed that the same would be true.
 
This is significant because for African Americans living in Albany, and in
southwest Georgia in general, arrest and jail represented personal endangerment. Anderson communicated the public opinion of jailing, stating “You have to understand
that going to jail was probably one of the most feared things in rural Georgia. There were many blacks who were arrested in small towns in Georgia never to be heard from
again… going to jail was no small thing.”  Horrible conditions in local jails were well
known to many, and it is important that many who agreed to march initially may have
done so without preparation for extended stays in jail, which placed strain upon people
economically, families especially.  … the Movement was poised to test the resolve of the
community through a baptism of fire, namely by sending hundreds of supporters to
prison.
 
The following day, over four hundred people marched to city hall in downtown
Albany, protesting the arrest of the Freedom Riders. The city gave the marchers
permission to circle the block twice, and when the marchers refused to stop after the
allotted distance, Pritchett ordered the protestors arrested.  Herding the protestors into
the alley between police headquarters, Pritchett arrested 267 protestors, including Sherrod and Reagon, and many of their young supporters (Nelligan 15-16).  
 
Dr. Anderson narrated: But on this Monday morning following the arrests on Sunday, we met at a church, and we started a march downtown, and we were going to walk around the courthouse and go back to the church. We made it around the first time and I was at the head of the line with my wife. But after we made it around the first time not getting arrested I went on to my office, but the group went around a second time to make this impression that we are united behind these people that you have unjustly arrested. But the second time around they were arrested. And some 700 were arrested before they stopped (Interview 5).
 
The Movement continued to hold meetings in Shiloh and Mount Zion, sending two hundred and two protestors to jail the following day. In response to these marches, Pritchett informed the press that “We can’t tolerate the NAACP or the Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee or any other ‘nigger’ organization to take over this town with mass demonstrations.”
 
Despite almost five hundred arrests since the Freedom Ride, the Albany jail was not full. This presented a problem for the “jail, no bail” strategy of the Movement. Pritchett had not been forced to turn away those whom he had arrested and therefore would not soon be forced into concessions. Pritchett, who had been warned of the possibility of mass marches, had devised a plan to ensure that his jail would never be full. Pritchett planned to use jails in the surrounding counties to house Albany prisoners should their number threaten to swamp his facilities. As he stated, “plans had been made where we had the capability of 10,000 prisoners, and never put one in our city jail.”  As Pritchett himself attested, the protestors “were to be shipped out to surrounding cities in a circle…we had fifteen miles, twenty five miles, forty five miles, on up to about seventy miles that we could ship prisoners to.”  Pritchett had seen to it that Albany would not be required to pay for the prisoners to be housed in other jails, as local law enforcement had agreed to absorb the cost so as to protect the segregationist cause. Pritchett did insist that his own men police the jails themselves, however, in order to maintain control over Albany prisoners.  This maneuver dealt the Movement a significant setback, as no one conceived of Pritchett’s ability to increase his jail capacity this drastically.
 
For many of those arrested the realization that they were going to jail not in their hometown of Albany but rather in outlying areas such as “Bad” Baker County struck terror into their hearts. Prison conditions were harsh, with jail cells packed to many times their intended capacity. One woman described her cell in the Camilla jail designed to accommodate twenty prisoners being packed with over eighty-eight women.  Andrew Young, describing Albany jail conditions as “harrowing,” described jailors refusing to heat the jail in the winter, and raising the heat and closing the windows on hot days.  James Forman reported that many of those jailed spent most of their time “wondering when they would get out of jail,” suggesting that the expectation of staying in jail was not one most people were aware of. Some voiced their astonishment when they werearrested. One young woman stated “I didn’t expect to go to jail for kneeling and praying at city hall.”  The misery of sitting in jail cells far from home sapped the resolve of many of those who initially agreed to march and risk arrest. Along with the fact that many of those arrested did not expect to be, the mass jailing of Albany blacks presented the Movement with an enormous strategic problem. The infeasibility of filling the Albany jail meant that the basic strategy proposed by SNCC and supported by the Movement could not be successful. While admirable, the suffering of Albany residents in jail
accomplished little and represented an exercise in futility. This lack of concrete result would have a profound effect on the consciousness of the Albany African-American community (Nelligan 16-18).
 
 
Works cited:
 
“Albany Movement formed.”  SNCC Digital Gateway.  Web.  https://snccdigital.org/events/albany-movement-formed/
 
Browning, Joan C.  “Conflicting Memories of the Albany Freedom Ride and Albany Movement: An excerpt from: Who, What, When, Where? — Success or Failure?”  Veterans of the Civil Rights Movement.  Web.  https://www.crmvet.org/comm/00albany.htm

 “Interview with Dr. William Anderson.”  Eyes on the Prize Interview.  November 7, 1985.  Washington University Digital Gateway Texts.  Web.   http://digital.wustl.edu/e/eop/eopweb/and0015.1042.003drwilliamganderson.html

“The Albany Movement.”  African American Civil Rights Movement.  Web.  http://www.african-american-civil-rights.org/albany-movement/
 
Nelligan, Brendan Kevin.  “Lessons of Albany: Civil Rights Protest in Albany, Georgia 1961-62.”    Providence College: DigitalCommons@Providence.  Fall 2009.  Web.  https://digitalcommons.providence.edu/cgi/viewcontent.cgi?article=1001&context=student_scholarship
 
“October 1961: SNCC Arrives in Albany.”  SNCC Digital Gateway.  Web.  https://snccdigital.org/events/sncc-arrives-in-albany/


Sunday, January 20, 2019

Civil Rights Events
Albany Movement
SNCC Comes to Town
 
By 1961 SNCC, still practically brand new, was trying to craft its identity and find its footing following the sit-in movement. Some wanted to keep with the tradition of the sit-ins and focus the organization’s energies on nonviolent direct action. Others wanted to focus on voter registration, especially in the Black Belt, where disenfranchised Blacks made up the majority of the population. Despite intense internal debates, there was a broad consensus among activists that, in the words of James Forman, it was “important then to just do, to act, as a means of overcoming the lethargy and hopelessness of so many Black people.” Rather than establish rigid definitions of goals and tactics, “it seemed best then to experiment and learn and experiment some more.”

W.E.B. DuBois described Southwest Georgia as “a great fertile land, luxuriant with forests of pine, oak, ash, hickory, and poplar, hot with the sun and damp with the rich black swampland; and here the Cotton Kingdom was laid.” It was as violent and resistant to civil rights as Mississippi. With names like “Terrible Terrell,” “Unbearable Baker,” and “Unworthy Worth,” the counties of Southwest Georgia were notorious strongholds of white supremacy and the oppression of Black people. Carolyn Daniels, a beautician who housed SNCC workers, remembers growing up in Terrell County and hearing stories about people she knew getting beaten and lynched.

In the middle of the region sat Albany, a city of 60,000 and roughly 40% Black. Albany tried to cultivate an image distinct from the racial violence that characterized the counties that surrounded it. The city was still racially segregated, however, and Black residents were often subjected to humiliation at the hands of whites (October 1-2).

Doctor William Anderson, president of the Albany Movement, interviewed by Eyes on the Prize, characterized Albany as a semi-rural community with a lot of the industry at least in part dependent upon farming. There was very little industry. It was a rather close-knit town in that people knew each other. It was a totally segregated town. Blacks held no positions in any of the stores downtown as salespersons, clerks or what have you. Of course, there were no black policemen, blacks held no political office. As a matter of fact they weren't even called blacks. They were called negroes by the ones who were more liberal and benevolent, and they were called more unsavory things by others. You couldn't say that it was a community where you could experience racial harmony. The interplay or interaction was non-existent. And most of the people who had lived in Albany all of their lives had sort of come to accept things as they were. Or at least there was no outward expression of opposition to things as they were. So Albany was not unlike thousands of other towns of that size or smaller, dotted throughout the south, where you had a total segregation of the—of the races. You had a community that was, that primarily was dependent upon the farm industry to some extent or another. You had a community that blacks who were employed were employed in the service industries with very few professionals. The only professionals you could find would be school teachers, ministers and very few doctors. At the time that the Albany Movement started there was fortunately a black lawyer. This was a rarity of course in a town of that size in Georgia (Interview 1).

Albany was just as violent as other, better known areas, such as southern Mississippi, which Ralph Abernathy would characterize as the worst area for race relations in America.  Chief of Police Laurie Pritchett admitted that rampant Ku Klux Klan and American Nazi Party activity existed in the area surrounding Albany.  …  Comparing it to his own hometown of Thomasville, Georgia, Andrew Young attested that “Albany was one of the reasons black folk in Thomasville hadn’t complained too much- they had only to Albany to consider their own status bearable.”  Contrary to popular depiction, it is clear that Albany did not represent an anomaly in regards to the violence of the Deep South. If anything, it represented a stellar example of violent repression, as Birmingham and Selma would later become.

Cordell Reagon and Charles Sherrod descended into this environment in October of 1961. Neither man was from Georgia, hailing from Nashville, Tennessee and Petersburg, Virginia, respectively. Both were Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee (SNCC) field secretaries, dispatched to begin voter registration and civil rights work in the area (Nelligan 3-4).

In June 1961, Sherrod became SNCC’s first full-time field secretary.  When the sit-in began, Sherrod was a student of religion at Virginia Union University, thirty miles away from his home in Petersburg. He helped staged local sit-ins at department stores in Richmond. He participated in SNCC’s founding conference, and after being arrested in Rock Hill, South Carolina with fellow student activists Diane Nash, Ruby Doris Smith, and Charles Jones, they pioneered SNCC’s Jail-No-Bail strategy, serving out the full 30-day sentence (Charles 1).

Reagon was a 16-year-old high school student in Nashville, Tennessee when he impulsively joined a SNCC march in his city, simply because it “looked exciting.” His hasty decision grew into a life-time commitment to SNCC’s organizing efforts. … Reagon was stewarded into SNCC’s field organizing by James Forman. His first assignment was working with Bob Moses on voter registration efforts in McComb, Mississippi. Soon after, he joined Charles Sherrod’s organizing in Albany, Georgia. SNCC workers referred to Reagon as “the baby of the Movement” when he became SNCC’s youngest staff member in 1961 (Cordell 1).

Sherrod and Reagon began their work in surrounding counties, attempting to register the large number of African-Americans living there, as well as bolster community support. However, the two found the nearby areas of “Terrible” Terrell and “Bad” Baker counties too hostile for voter registration work, resulting in a move back to Albany in late October.  Hoping to capitalize on the resentment of segregation and “a lot of brutality from police going on,” the two began tapping into the community.  Sherrod explained their strategy: “We would go into a town and find out where the children hung out, the high school kids, the college kids. And find out what was happening…what was the main issue in the various communities. …After observing that, [we would] move the young people toward that, and deal with it.”  The presence of Albany State College encouraged the SNCC activists who believed that the student population would help form a solid base for their activities.

Luckily for SNCC, Sherrod and Reagon found a number of students receptive to their message at the College. Many of these students had been previously involved in the local National Association for the Advancement of Colored People (NAACP) Youth Council. The SNCC secretaries began holding meetings to teach nonviolent principles to young students and to encourage voter registration. From the beginning, the two made clear their desire to build a movement with its “strength…in the people.”  As in many communities across the South, voter registration proved difficult. The registrar had a habit of taking lunch breaks for days at a time, and upon returning, enjoyed quizzing African-American applicants on complex sections of the Constitution. At times, his questions strayed from the material. Rev. Horace C. Boyd remembers being asked to name how many bubbles were on a bar of soap.  Through conscious effort, the white establishment sought to keep African-Americans disenfranchised and politically impotent. Despite this, civil rights activities found initial support among some local students.

In contrast to their reception among the young, the arrival of the SNCC activist elicited a far chillier response from the black adult community. Sherrod attributed the less than welcoming environment to rampant fear. People “didn’t want to be connected to us in any way.” Revealing the attitude many African-American adults held, Dr. William G. Anderson, a local osteopath, stated the SNCC secretaries “infiltrated the community” (Nelligan 4-6).

Years later in an interview Anderson was measured in his characterization of Sherrod.

Charlie looked like the typical college kid, who had been caught up with the excitement of the time. He was very dedicated, very well motivated and nothing would suit him better than to make a reputation for himself and his organization and Albany looked like the perfect place to do that.

I believe collectively that was our reaction. He was received very well. He was a very dynamic individual—presented himself very well, spoke fluently, and I think the community at large kind of perceived him as a person who was assuming a position in life that would somehow enough somehow sooner or later make an indelible imprint not only on Albany, but on the nation, He seemed to be destined for that (Interview 2).  
 
Sherrod and Reagon did little to assuage the worry of the African-American community, openly declaring their intention to turn the town on its head.  The local chapter of the NAACP “regarded the coming of SNCC with horror,” viewing Sherrod’s and Reagon’s actions as a challenge to their more conservative, legal-based methods of civil rights protest and local control.  NAACP leader Thomas Chatmon’s apparently unfounded assertion that Sherrod and Reagon were communists led other members of the community to express their discomfort with having the two SNCC workers in Albany. Wild claims of communist sympathies and suicidal demonstration tactics suggest that many adult members of the [black] community felt uncomfortable with SNCC’s presence in Albany.  Far from garnering a broad base of community support, the SNCC secretaries were alienating key members of the black community due to their openly disruptive tactics (Nelligan 6).

The Student Non-Violent Coordinating Committee volunteer's vision of racial inclusion seemed so radical that many blacks in town literally were afraid to come close to him.  "Albany was the kind of town where everybody knew their place," Sherrod said. "Black people were afraid to talk to me. Some were even so fearful that if I was walking on one side of the street, they would go on the other side" (Fletcher 1).

Despite opposition from adults, student support for Sherrod and Reagon grew slowly. As this support spread, the SNCC secretaries began planning the first direct challenge to segregation in Albany. Both men agreed to test the Interstate Commerce Commission’s ruling banning segregation in interstate bus terminals, which was to go into effect November 1, 1961.  Along with the approval of the Youth Council, the test plan called for Sherrod and Reagon to test the bus terminals’ facilities.  Albany students would integrate the waiting rooms when interstate travelers disembarked (Nellligan 7).
 
Works cited:
 
“Charles Sherrod.” SNCC Digital Gateway.  Web.  https://snccdigital.org/people/charles-sherrod/
 
“Cordell Reagon.”  SNCC Digital Gateway.  Web.  https://snccdigital.org/people/cordell-reagon/
 
Fletcher, Michael A.  “Vetrerans of the Movement Find Time Outstripping Its Gains.”  The Washington Post.  July 17, 1996.  Web.  https://www.washingtonpost.com/archive/politics/1996/07/17/veterans-of-the-movement-find-time-outstripping-its-gains/67a73c26-b13f-4220-b050-d3d498894e4a/
 
“Interview with Dr. William Anderson.”  Eyes on the Prize Interview.  November 7, 1985.  Washington University Digital Gateway Texts.  Web.   http://digital.wustl.edu/e/eop/eopweb/and0015.1042.003drwilliamganderson.html

Morgan, Thad.  “How Freedom Rider Diane Nash Risked Her Life to Desegregate the South.”  History.  March 8, 2018.  Web.  https://www.history.com/news/diane-nash-freedom-rider-civil-rights-movement.
 
Nelligan, Brendan Kevin.  “Lessons of Albany: Civil Rights Protest in Albany, Georgia 1961-62.”    Providence College: DigitalCommons@Providence.  Fall 2009.  Web.  https://digitalcommons.providence.edu/cgi/viewcontent.cgi?article=1001&context=student_scholarship
 
“October 1961: SNCC Arrives in Albany.”  SNCC Digital Gateway.  Web.  https://snccdigital.org/events/sncc-arrives-in-albany/


Sunday, January 13, 2019

Civil Rights Events
Freedom Rides
Jackson, Mississippi, Parchman State Prison
 
Robert Kennedy was a close friend of Governor John Patterson of Alabama.   I had this long relationship with John Patterson …. He was our great pal in the South.  So he was doubly exercised at me – who was his friend and pal – to have involved him with suddenly surrounding this church with marshals and having marshals descend with no authority, he felt, on his cities… He couldn’t understand why the Kennedys were doing this to him.” (Simkin 7).
 
Recognizing that previous and new Freedom Riders were adamant about traveling by bus to Jackson, Mississippi, the next city along the original route that ended at New Orleans, Kennedy, talking over the telephone “seven or eight or twelve times each day” (Simkin 8), with Mississippi Senator James O. Eastland, reached a deal.  Kennedy would use no federal forces if Eastland would ensure that the Riders would not suffer mob violence. 
 
Interviewed in 1998, James Farmer, director of CORE, said this about the Kennedys.
 
The Kennedys meant well, but they did not feel it. They didn't know any blacks growing up - there were no blacks in their communities or going to their schools. But their inclinations were good. I had the impression in those years that Bobby was doing what had to be done for political reasons. He was very conscious of the fact that they had won a narrow election and he was afraid that if they antagonized the South, the Dixiecrats would cost them the next election. And he was found to be very, very cautious and very careful not to do that. But we changed the equation down there, so it became dangerous for him not to do anything (Simkin 9).
 
Two buses, a Greyhound and a Trailways, departed Montgomery for Jackson, Mississippi, May 24.  Rider William Mahoney, a nineteen-year-old black student at Howard University, observed:
 
Once across the (Mississippi) state line we passed a couple of police cars, which began to follow us. At our first stop the station was cordoned off a block in every direction. A police officer jumped on the bus and forbade anyone to move. One woman, who was a regular passenger, frantically tried to convince the police that she was not involved with us. After checking her ticket the police let her get off.
 
As we rolled toward Jackson, every blocked-off street, every back road taken, every change in speed caused our hearts to leap. Our arrival and speedy arrest in the white bus station in Jackson, when we refused to obey a policeman's order to move on, was a relief (Simkin 10).
 
They were given good protection as they entered the state, and no mob greeted them at the Jackson bus terminal. "As we walked through, the police just said, `Keep moving' and let us go through the white side," recalled Frederick Leonard. "We never got stopped. They just said `Keep moving,' and they passed us right on through the white terminal into the paddy wagon and into jail" (Cozzens 12).
 
Peter Ackerberg, white, 22, Antioch College student, interviewed years later, recalled his motivation and experience.
 
While he’d always talked a “big radical game,” he had never acted on his convictions. “What am I going to tell my children when they ask me about this time?” he recalled thinking. Boarding a bus in Montgomery, Alabama, “I was pretty scared … The black guys and girls were singing....They were so spirited and so unafraid. They were really prepared to risk their lives.” Today, Ackerberg recalls acquiescing and saying “sir” to a jail official who was “pounding a blackjack.” Soon after, “I could hear the blackjack strike [rider C.T. Vivian’s] head and him shrieking; I don’t think he ever said ‘sir.’”
 
When activists arrived at the Jackson bus depot, police arrested blacks who refused to heed orders to stay out of white restrooms or vacate the white waiting room. And whites were arrested if they used “colored” facilities. Officials charged the riders with breach of peace, rather than breaking segregation laws. Freedom Riders responded with a strategy they called “jail, no bail”—a deliberate effort to clog the penal facilities
 
The dehumanizing process started as soon as we got there,” said Hank Thomas, [black, 19] a Marriott hotel franchise owner in Atlanta, who was then a sophomore at Howard University in Washington, D.C. “We were told to strip naked and then walked down this long corridor.... I’ll never forget [CORE director] Jim Farmer, a very dignified man ...walking down this long corridor naked...that is dehumanizing. And that was the whole point.” (Holmes 2-4).
 
The May 24 Freedom Riders were at the mercy of the local courts. On May 25, they were tried. As their attorney defended them, the judge turned his back. Once the attorney finished, he turned around and sentenced them to 60 days in the state penitentiary.
 
Using buses, planes, and trains, more Freedom Riders arrived in Jackson to continue the Freedom Ride, and they were arrested to, not under local or state segregation laws, but on charges of incitement to riot, breach of peace and failure to obey a police officer.  Freedom Riders continued to arrive in the South, and by the end of the summer, more than 300 had been arrested (Cozzens 13).
 
Convicted of violating the law, each Rider was fined $200.  Refusal to pay the fine brought each individual a sentence of 90 days in jail.
 
In an effort to intimidate the marchers, Mississippi officials transferred the now nearly one hundred men and women freedom riders to the state penitentiary at Parchman where they were subject to beatings and inedible food and repeatedly strip searched.  Prison officials confiscated the blankets and mattresses of all of the activists. When other demonstrators arrived in Jackson they were also arrested and sent to Parchman where they faced similar conditions  (Mack 3).
 
Jean Thompson, then a 19-year-old CORE worker, said she was one of the riders slapped by a penal official for failing to call him “sir.” An FBI investigation into the incident concluded that “no one was beaten …. “That said a lot to me about what actually happens in this country. It was eye-opening.” When prisoners were transferred from one facility to another, unexplained stops on remote dirt roads or the sight of curious onlookers peering into the transport trucks heightened fears. “We imagined every horror including an ambush by the KKK,” [said] rider Carol Silver …. To keep up their spirits, the prisoners sang freedom songs (Holmes 5).
 
The reputation of Parchman is that it’s a place that a lot of people get sent...and don’t come back,” former Freedom Rider Carol Ruth [later] told (Oprah] Winfrey.   … The struggles of the Freedom Riders garnered nationwide publicity. Rather than intimidate other activists, however, the brutality the riders encountered inspired others to take up the cause. Before long, dozens of Americans were volunteering to travel on Freedom Rides. In the end, an estimated 436 people took such rides (Nittle 2).
 
One such individual was Pauline Knight.  Part of the May 28 wave of Freedom Riders from the Nashville Student Movement, Pauline … escaped the violence of the earlier rides. Pauline Knight was a 20-year-old Tennessee State student when she was arrested in Jackson, MS. After being transferred to Hinds County Jail, she led a brief hunger strike among the female Riders.
 
 "I got up one morning in May and I said to my folks at home, ‘I won't be back today because I am a Freedom Rider.  … It was like a wave or a wind, and you didn't know where it was coming from but you knew you were supposed to be there. Nobody asked me, nobody told me."
 
Another individual was Joan Trumpauer Mulholland.  A 19-year-old white Duke University student and part-time secretary in the Washington office of Senator Clair Engle of California, Joan Trumpauer arrived in Jackson, MS by train from New Orleans, LA as part of the June 4, 1961 Mississippi Freedom Ride.
 
 The group was promptly ushered by Jackson police to a waiting paddy wagon; all nine Riders refused bail. Trumpauer was transferred to Parchman State Prison Farm.
 
 In her interview for Freedom Riders, she recalls the harrowing conditions at Parchman, which included forced vaginal examinations used as a tactic to humiliate and terrorize female prisoners (Meet 6-7).
 
Out of her experience as a Freedom Rider, it is the memory of the rabbi who faithfully visited the jail that still moves her today. Joan Trumpauer Mulholland of Arlington, Va., joined the rides just in time for the fill-the-jails strategy in Mississippi. Volunteers from across the country began arriving in the South in waves and getting arrested, thus burdening the criminal justice system and bringing more focus to their cause. More than 300 riders were jailed that summer. Mulholland spent three months in jail, much of it at Mississippi’s Parchman Prison.
 
“We were down, we calculated, to less than three square feet of floor space for the prisoners in the white women’s cells,” she said. “That’s pretty crowded; that means you have to sleep underneath the bunks and things.”
 
Perry Nussbaum, a rabbi in the Jackson area, drove in weekly, like clockwork, to visit the riders, said Mulholland. This was no small gesture during that time and place, she says, pointing out that his routine made him an easy target for the Ku Klux Klan members who probably were watching.
 
Nussbaum would ask riders to call out their jail cell numbers if they wanted him to pray with them, and Mulholland always took him up on the offer. “He would start praying in Hebrew and get a nice cadence going, and sort of lull the guards, and then he would slip in little tidbits of news, like what was happening in the world, and baseball scores and stuff. And then he’d slip back to Hebrew,” she said. He would also write to their parents letting them know how the riders were faring.
 
She also recalls an underground network of church women in Jackson who secretly collected money to help the imprisoned riders purchase necessities such as shower shoes and toiletries.
 
A few years later, there was the moment of kindness from a hairdresser in Jackson who walked Mulholland and other women over to her salon to give them a shampoo after patrons had covered the demonstrators with condiments and spray paint during a Woolworth’s lunch counter sit-in in 1963.
 
“There were always people who were supporting you,” she said, “people to drive you down to the demonstrations and take you back . . . as crucial as those out there demonstrating, and usually more numerous.”
 
A retired teaching assistant for Arlington Public Schools, Mulholland hopes the new monument will remind Americans of the power in organizing for change (Colvin 11-15).
 
Notable riders who did time at Parchman included James Farmer, John Lewis, Catherine Burks, Bernard Lafayette Jr., Frederick Leonard, Henry “Hank” Thomas, James Bevel, David Dennis, David Paul, James Lawson, Doris Jean Castle, and John Moody.   
 
Though the Freedom Rides dramatically demonstrated that some Southern states were ignoring the U.S. Supreme Court’s mandate to desegregate bus terminals, it would take a petition from U.S. Attorney General Robert Kennedy to spur the Interstate Commerce Commission (ICC) to issue tough new regulations, backed by fines up to $500, that would eventually end segregated bus facilities. Even after the order went into effect, on November 1, 1961, hard-core segregation persisted; still, the “white” and “colored” signs in bus stations across the South began to come down. The New York Times, which had earlier criticized the Freedom Riders’ “incitement and provocation,” acknowledged that they “started the chain of events which resulted in the new I.C.C. order” (Holmes 6).
 
The Freedom Rides illuminated the courage of black and white youth and highlighted the leadership of Diane Nash.  The Freedom Rides also inspired rural southern blacks to embrace civil disobedience as a strategy for regaining their civil rights.  That inspiration would be seen in subsequent campaigns such as Mississippi’s Freedom Summer in 1964 and the Selma Movement in 1965 as well as in dozens of much less heralded efforts to register to vote or to integrate the region’s public schools (Mack 4).
 
Segregation was unfair. It was wrong, morally, religiously. As a Southerner – a
white Southerner – I felt that we should do what we could to make the South
better and to rid ourselves of this evil” (Freedom 2).
~ Joan Mulholland, Activist
  
 
Works cited:
 
Colvin, Rhonda.  “As Trump attacks John Lewis, here’s how freedom riders broke the chains of segregation.”  The Washington Post.  January 15, 2017.  Web.  https://www.washingtonpost.com/national/we-were-soldiers-the-flesh-and-blood-behind-the-new-civil-rights-monument/2017/01/15/4d1c9edc-42dc-11e6-88d0-6adee48be8bc_story.html?utm_term=.3a43ab1ea4f6
 
Cozzens, Lisa.   “Freedom Rides.”  Watson.org. Web.   http://www.watson.org/~lisa/blackhistory/civilrights-55-65/freeride.html
 
“Freedom Rides Quotes.”  Uen.org. Web.  https://www.uen.org/freedomrides/downloads/Freedom_Rides_Quotes.pdf
 
Holmes, Marian Smith.  “The Freedom Riders, Then and Now.”  Smithsonian Magazine.  February 2009.  Web.  https://www.smithsonianmag.com/history/the-freedom-riders-then-and-now-45351758/
 
Mack, Dwayne.  “Freedom Rides (1961).”  BlackPast.org.  Web.  https://blackpast.org/aah/freedom-rides-1961
 
“Meet the Players: Freedom Riders.”  American Experience.  Web.  http://www.pbs.org/wgbh/americanexperience/features/meet-players-freedom-riders/
 
Nittle, Nadra Kareem.  “How the Freedom Riders Movement Began.”  ThoughtCo.  March 18, 2017.  Web.  https://www.thoughtco.com/the-freedom-riders-movement-2834894
 
Simkin, John.  “Freedom Riders.”  Spartacus Educational.  August 2014.  Web.  https://spartacus-educational.com/USAfreedomR.htm