Look Away, Dixieland

There is only one place that I have ever been that was a part of American history that utterly and completely surprised me and I would never have guessed that I would have such a strong reaction to the spirit of that place. That place is Montgomery, Alabama.

We left New Orleans with my feeling very negative about seeing any more of the south apart from my friend Amy and her familiy in Knoxville, Tennessee. I had enough of the glares and bad behavior from the locals of the countryside of Louisiana for one lifetime. I felt like the rest of the drive would be utter torture for me and I almost wanted to pack it in and hustle north. But a process is a process and I also wanted to see it through to its conclusion whether I was motivated to experience it or not.

We stopped in Biloxi, Mississippi to look at the BP polluted and muddy Gulf of Mexico where the Mississippi River meets the ocean. It was Labor Day and there was hardly anyone on the sugary beaches. A man about Larry's age came over to say hello and Larry made himself an instant friend as Larry is apt to do everywhere we go. He asked us, "Where y'all from?"...blah blah blah...I stopped listening but was hanging back waiting for the punchline which was delivered in the form of telling us how he was also in New Orleans this weekend, was shocked it was Gay Pride Weekend, how he was freaked out by all the "gays", and then he wiggled like he had a load of worms in his trunks (in his defense, maybe he did have a load of worms?). I believe now that Southerners think nothing of sharing their various prejudices with perfect ease of conscious. It's also a bonding rite of passage with strangers, "Let's hate people together, y'all!" Enough is enough. It's absolutely disgusting that people who pride themselves on politeness and hospitality could be so utterly "UG-ly"; as in, "Don' mind him, Viola...he's jes bein' UG-ly."

We left feeling like the next two days would be grueling. Larry tried to cheer me up and pointed out the flat landscape but I wasn't interested. I just wanted to get to Knoxville. We stopped at the Alabama Welcome Center so I could look up some information about the Civil Rights Movement in Birmingham, Alabama. A steel-magnolia-type woman told me to go to Montgomery because I would never forget the experience so we set the GPS and slept the night there.

The next morning we headed out for the Southern Poverty Law Center. This is a place where the 'Intelligence Report' is published that exposes right-wing extremists and hate groups. This work is very important and I have long since admired the Southern Poverty Law Center. The center has a great deal of security as it was once bombed by disgruntled White Supremecists whose pictures were published in 1983 by the SPLC. A clock was on display to remember the time of the blast. The visitor's center is a tribute to the 40 people who died between 1952 and 1968 for the cause of Civil Rights ending with the death of Martin Luther King Jr. The memorial fountain was designed by an Asian-American woman whose vision was simply so appropriate and beautiful. It is an interactive fountain and is meant to be touched. It is shown below. We all made a pledge on the Wall of Tolerance and I will uphold it. I also bought a book to know how to react to people when they make racist and intolerant comments. (Marley wanted it so she would know too!)

The hosts of the center pointed us in the direction of the Dexter Street Baptist Church where Martin Luther King was the pastor during the years 1956-1960 and where he organized the Montgomery Bus Boycott. I had forgotten that he was a pastor in Montgomery! We walked a block downhill and noticed that just two short blocks to the right was the Alabama State House and the First White House of the Confederacy. As King would go to work in the morning, he would pass the former home and Confederate offices of Jefferson Davis (!). There is certainly a kind of divine intervention in this story I believe. I wondered how much these two buildings would affect him as a person as one building's legislators sought to enslave his people 'forever' and the other sought to segregate them 'forever' (Forever is a word used in all Separatist literature).

We rang the bell and a kind woman greeted us and asked if we'd like a tour. She showed us a great film about King's tenure in Montgomery while all heck broke loose in the South when a tired seamstress, Rosa Parks, would not relinquish her seat to a white passenger and was arrested. In response, King helped to organize a peaceful protest in his church's basement office after having studied the methodologies of Mahatma Gandhi. He was impressed with the idea of non-violent resistance. We stood in his office that is still used today by the pastor of the church. It had his desk, bookshelves, and the office was never updated (other than to utilize technologies). It gave me chills to imagine his looking out his sub-terranean window to the street, closing the blinds, and meeting with his colleagues of the NAACP in this office. Rosa Parks had volunteered to be the secretary for the group so they knew her well. King would be the most important person in the Civil Rights movement in his passion, eloquence, and his ability to inspire others to a better way of life. Being here enhanced the story for me and I was so grateful.

Afterward we walked about 5 blocks downhill and came across the place where Rosa Parks usually waited for the bus. Most of Montgomery's bus riders were black and were coming to and from work. The bus laws were such that you could sit forward on the bus but not 'in front of' a white person. In this sense, there were no reserved seats unless a white person could not sit down, then a black person had to give up their seat. This law was most painful for black Southerners. It wasn't that there was a separation (which was evil enough) of a fountain or a restroom, but this required a substitution of one place for another. Also, blacks were required to pay at the front door and then enter the bus through the rear door. This was only 55 years ago.

We then walked only 2 blocks to the place where Rosa Parks was told to relinquish her seat. As the bus turned the corner, there was a theater across where white patrons were exiting and waiting for the bus. This is the place where Rosa was told to move and when she didn't the white patrons were outraged. The bus driver left the bus, called the police, and they arrested her. The Civil Rights Movement had begun.

We took a tour of the Rosa Parks Museum which was simply INCREDIBLE. There is something truly honorable in the simple and peaceful protest of this intelligent and gentle woman. The museum is just a few blocks from Martin Luther King's church and directly in front of the bus stop where she was arrested. She would move to Detroit, Michigan as her brother was very concerned about her life after Martin Luther King's home was bombed. (Hence, this is why the actual bus is in Detroit's Henry Ford Museum that we saw four weeks ago which solves a mystery for me as to why the bus was in Detroit!). Rosa Parks continued her work as a social activist in Michigan. The museum has great short films, and the main part of the story is told with video "windows" on the bus with actors who portray the characters of the bus riders. The whole room looks like the bus stop at night and a narrator explains what is happening during the incident. It was AMAZING and I feel like I truly understand the gravity of what happened on that Montgomery bus on the night of December 1, 1955. The museum explains how Martin Luther King was important to the movement (and I didn't realize that he was only 25 years old at the time).

The blacks of Montgomery decided to boycott the buses and they used carpools to get around the city. It was a magnificent strategy because the bus system was bleeding out money to keep running. They were surprised how effective the boycott was because they didn't realize that blacks were the majority of their riders! It was unbelievable to me that they didn't account for this!

We then had the honor of visiting the home where Martin Luther King and his wife Coretta lived during his tenure at the Dexter Street Baptist Church. The museum's curator, Shirley Cherry, is a retired teacher whose knowledge of Dr. King's life and his legacy was unparalleled. We were the only people visiting that afternoon and received a personal tour. It was so impressive. I was so pleased to be a part of this experience!Most importantly, she brought us to the King home after a film in the interpretation center. She showed us a bomb impression on the front porch when Coretta and her baby were home alone with a friend when a stick of dynamite exploded in front of the living room windows. The curator allowed the children to unlock the door with a key as King had done many times returning home from his important work. It was very moving. The personal attention was incredible and I would recommend the museum to anyone wanting to know ANYTHING at all about Martin Luther King because this curator can tell you all you want to know and more.

One of the most beautiful things about having such a personal tour was being able to sit on the couch where King sat to entertain guests and where the NAACP planned the Civil Rights Movement. She told us stories on this couch including how King would invite 'panhandlers' to come in and would feed them. She took us into all the rooms of the home that were recreated to look like it was 1954. She then brought us into the kitchen and told us the story how frightened King was for his family and for his own safety.

One night he answered the hall phone to an evil voice that threatened to kill him and his new baby. Usually he went back to bed after such experiences but this night he couldn't sleep. He went into the kitchen, made himself a cup of coffee, and prayed at the kitchen table. He prayed for strength to cope. He said that the spirit of God spoke to his heart and he would fear no evil ever again. It was such a moving story especially to be standing near his chair and imagining the experiences he had as a leader and a black man in the segregated South. He was the modern-Moses of the African-American people.

A white shirt was placed in the backyard as Martin Luther King wore them every day to work and it was common to see Coretta drying his shirts in the yard. A white shirt is always hanging on the line to commemorate that this leader has fallen but will always be remembered for what he was during his lifetime; a husband, a father, a man of God, and a leader.

Finally, I will relate one last part of this story of my journey in Montgomery. After speaking to the curators of all the museums, I learned something else that was so sad to hear. There is a group of men called "Sons of the Confederacy" who are descendants of Confederate soldiers. They erected a Dixie flag on the only major highway in Alabama, Route 65. Every curator I spoke to said that this is the most hurtful thing to them to see as it is very large, is lighted at night, and glorifies "The Pre-Civil War Way of Life" which is something that I hear southerners talking about all the time...their "Way of Life" being ripped from them in one way or another (you should see the billboards here about the Constitution saying "Do you miss me yet?" if you want a good laugh). Now, I ask, "How can you be proud that your great great great grand-pappy owned slaves?" Can anyone explain how that world view ever could be considered a meritorious part of history?

As I passed that flag in Alabama it was deflated in the heat and humidity. There was no wind to proudly hold it aloft and I was glad to see it in that state. It was dirty and also appeared evil. (As if it were a Nazi flag).

I was glad to have visited Alabama though. There were many kind people here both white and black. The best part was being close to the history of the Civil Rights Movement and the people who uphold it's sacredness. There is a song, about Dixie and it was once the Confederate National Anthem. One part of the song goes, "Look away, look away, look away, Dixieland" and as I leave this place I hope that Dixieland will look away from it's past and embrace a future of inclusion and tolerance. According to the curators, there is a 'New South' and I am more than glad to experience it now.