Bloody Sunday

March 7, 1965, the Edmund Pettus Bridge, Selma, AL, where Negroes, Colored Folks, Nigras, or Niggers, as they were referred to, were brutally beaten as they attempted to march to Montgomery, AL, to register to vote. This horrific act of violence literally pushed Pres. Lyndon B. Johnson into passing the Voting Rights Act of 1965.  55 years later, I had the privilege to join thousands of others in peacefully crossing that bridge and paying respect to the men and women who sacrificed so much. 

I was in high school when this happened. The beating and murder of many of the Selma marchers, Rev. Reeb, Jimmy Lee, John Lewis and others, as with the bombing of the church in Birmingham, sit-ins, the hatred and violence, were too surreal. Just horrible images on the television screen. Because it happened so far away, it couldn't possibly have any effect on me.  Could it?

Voting rights, segregation, politics, social issues were not topics of discussion in my household. My parents, both from the South, were too busy trying to keep a roof over our heads, raise a small family, and survive. No correlation was made between the Blacks being beaten and killed in the South and the brutality of police in our backyards of D.C., Virginia, Maryland. No thought of the fact that we were not allowed to shop in the "better" stores, live in other areas of town. It was a given that you "held it" until you could get home because the restrooms were not for us.  We didn't have to get off the sidewalks when white people passed unlike in my mom's hometown of Cheraw, S.C., one of the few memories that I have from a summer visit in the Fifties. But segregation was alive and well in Washington, D.C.  I just didn't know it.

So, how did you manage to make that trip, Missy? As with most things, I just happened to hear at the last minute that some of my good Delta Sigma Theta, Inc., friends had chartered a bus to make the pilgrimage. I was lucky enough to get the last available seat.  As you can see, it was a sea of red and white but they did allow three lovely AKAs to ride along with them.

The agenda called for us to leave Jackson, TN, on February 29th and spend the night in Montgomery, AL.  Nothing was planned for the group once we arrived but it just so happens that the National Memorial for Peace and Justice, and the Legacy Museum are located in Montgomery. A must see. They immediately went on my list of things to do.  And who could pass up the opportunity to visit a casino or two?   As luck would have it, by the time we checked in, the museum was all out of admission tickets so we didn't get to see it. But Montgomery is only 6 hours away, so a return trip is possible.

We revised our plans, got a recommendation for a seafood restaurant and off we went. It was awful. My companions had the seafood boil and were happy. I wasn't feeling anything on that menu; not what I expected at all.  I couldn't believe that I had traveled that distance to have catfish and fries, no bread, no salad.  Off to the casino. Regina Nash felt her bed calling but Candice Williams Marshall Hunter and I forged on.  She won $300 on her first spin; I recouped the $40 I'd spent and was more than ready to go.  We stopped at B.B. King's to redeem the food ticket and realized that we should have eaten there: good food and live music. 

The next morning we were ready to pull out--Selma bound. Oops, change
of plans, we wouldn't ride the bus with the Deltas, after all, but ride with  Mr. Fitzgerald Mann, who had made the trip down alone. Could he really resist the opportunity to have three women accompany him to Selma and back to TN? He probably could have but was too much of a gentleman to deny us.

Did they walk Sistah Girl? Yes, they did.  Of course we had to visit the vendors. Then we tried to find the location of the rally. Went around in circles getting directions from different, well-meaning, people. Where I thought we were going isn't where we ended up. I thought we were going to a rally outside of the church; instead we went to the stage where the Divine Nine would have their gathering.  In addition to their presence, the president of FAMU spoke, the mayor of Montgomery, AL,  as did the president of the NAACP, and Tom and Kat Steyer.  Ms. Steyer has few moves under her belt and sings quite well. Perhaps she should have been the one to run for president.The M.C. called Tom Steyer, Tom Sawyer, and never corrected it.  I assume that she was a dee jay from the radio station. Sistah Girl was not impressed. You cannot be "cute" and make those mistakes.

 A lot of fun watching the young'uns show their colors and their dance steps.  Very good entertainment. The band was great with talented vocalists and musicians. The most moving performance for me was by a young group, Atlanta Music Project. Gifted vocalists. Some of them will go far.

To be continued....

All the Best.