I was sixteen and committed to the passage of civil rights. Idealistic.
Naive.
Most of us had never been south before. We were outraged at the signs
and vowed to give them none of our business. If we couldn’t all eat together we
wouldn’t eat.
Boston wasn’t the most liberal of places. Earlier that
spring my mother told the folks at her hairdresser’s that our family would be
hosting some kids overnight for a weekend church conference. Someone asked what
she would do if one of the kids assigned to us was a negro? Mother had never
thought about it but answered Make them feel at home. Sure enough, Wally, one
of the two boys assigned to us, was black. The spare room had a double bed which
Mother had expected two girls would share. Now we had two adolescent boys – one
black and one white, Mother was initially freaked. Boys didn’t share beds. The
boys didn’t care. And if there were repercussions from parents or neighbors, I
never heard about them.
The summer conference was at a Quaker school, Guilford
College, in Greensboro, NC. Guilford had voluntarily integrated the campus the
year before -- 1962, They might have been the only southern college that would
host our multiracial group and shared our commitment to civil rights. They had helped
us arrange a day of service with the local black hospital. Our work crews spent
the day cleaning, painting, and fixing things. Somehow, I always ended up on
the paint crew.
I felt like we were trying to make a silk purse from the
proverbial sow’s ear. The hospital was old and the patients poor. It was
depressing and overcrowded. Our one day of work was a drop in the bucket, but this
trip south was teaching me about life.
Most of us planned to spend our second week in Washington
DC. Word about the March on Washington was spreading. I was excited about exploring the
Smithsonian, the zoo, the pawn shops and streets of the city. But most of all, I
was excited by the March on Washington taking shape on Wednesday.
The city had a magic about it. People were arriving from
everywhere by bus, train, hitchhiking, walking, driving. Everyone was friendly
and interested in where you were from and why you came.
I like to pretend that when you look at that picture of the
reflecting pool and the mall filled with people, you can see me. I’m right
there on the left side, not far from the water, sitting with some of the best
friends I’ve ever had.
The day was hot, the program long, the sky perfectly
blue. Every celebrity and politician was
introduced and it seemed like there were hundreds of them. Mahalia Jackson and
Marion Anderson, Joan Baez, Bob Dylan, and Peter, Paul & Mary broke up
the speeches. ‘We shall overcome’ echoed
throughout the city.
August 29, 2013
