"Furious Hours" by Casey Cep (2019)

"Furious Hours" by Casey Cep is actually 3 books in one. The first is the true story of Reverend Willie Maxwell, a rural preacher accused of murdering his first 2 wives, and a nephew and a niece, over a period of 7 years beginning in 1971. He had taken out multiple insurance policies on all of them, without their knowledge, and collected on them all. But he was never convicted. The killings only came to an end when the Reverend was shot at point blank range, in front of 300 mourners at the funeral of his last victim; his niece. There was no question of his guilt. He even confessed to it. Twice. 

Some claim the Reverand was a Voo Doo Practitioner, others just wrote him off as a homicidal maniac, but try as the State of Alabama might, he was never convicted. It went so far that the entire town was living in fear of who the next victim would be. 

Harper Lee, author of "To Kill a Mockingbird", only enters the story halfway through the book. She had come from New York City to gather material for a book about the Reverend's crimes and his subsequent murder. It should have been easy, but it wasn't. It would consume 10 years of her life, and produce nothing. So this portion of the book is about the book which never was. 

The third part of the book is even more compelling. It delves into her collaboration with Truman Capote and the writing of "In Cold Blood", which was begun in 1959 and took 7 years to finish as the appeals of conviction wound on and on. During this time Harper Lee had finished her masterpiece, won a Pulitzer Prize, sold the film rights and became an elusive, and troubled celebrity. Because of this, her childhood friend, Capote, drifted away from her. Part of this was a difference in lifestyle, part was jealousy. 

You don't want to overlook this book. So much information is imparted within its pages. It really is a well written work, and a tribute to the author Casey Cep, who ultimately wrote the book which Harper Lee could not. That, in itself, is reason enough to read it.

Three things in this book really stand out. First, "Tell a Watchman", Ms. Lee's long awaited second book was really funished before "Mockingbird". It wasn't released for decades because it was written from a critical perspective of her home town. It is the story of a grown woman who leaves Alabama and returns home to find out her father and Uncle, portrayed with such nobility in "Mockingbird", have become members of the White Citizen's Council, which called for "gradualism" in the area of Civil Rights. It wasn't until 2 of her friends gave her a Christmas present of about $10,000 that she was able to quit her job selling tickets for a major airline that she was able to take a full year off work to concentrate solely on writing "Mockingbird."

By the time "Watchman" was published, the public, including me, was in no mood to hear anything negative concerning the nobility of her father and all the other characters in "Mockingbird." No one likes to see their heroes fall from grace.

One of the best revelations in this book is that Boo Radley was based on a real person from her childhood. The son of a local judge had been involved in a crime with another teenager, and both were sentenced to serve time. But the Judge's son was released to his father's custody and kept locked in the house for many years, peering out from the shutters by day, and roaming the small town streets at night. So vividly was his character portrayed that his older sister attempted a lawsuit against both the author and her publisher. 

The third part of the book concerns the unfinished book about the Reverend Willie Maxwell. This is an extraordinary work by Ms. Cep, who not only gives us that book, but incorporates a fresh look at Harper Lee and the demons which truncated her literary career. 

The subtitle conveys the book accurately. Harper Lee's books were all concerned with trials. After all, she was the daughter of an attorney, and she herself left law school only 6 months shy of her degree. First there is the trial in "Mockingbird", followed by her essential collaboration with Truman Caplte on "In Cold Blood", and lastly the unfinished story of the trial of the nephew who shot and killed Reverend Maxwell.

A compelling read, this review hardly does the book justice. Therefore, it is a book which must be read to be truly appreciated.

I Always Wondered Why.....

I always wondered why the Weekly Reader; that cool little newspaper we used to get in elementary school; was sometimes confusing to me as a kid. I mean, there was the time when the Weekly Reader was loudly lambasting South Africa for Apartheid at the same time as we were experiencing the events of Selma, Alabama here in the United States. 

But the Weekly Reader had nothing to say about that. Accordingly, I raised my hand and asked what the difference was between South Africa and Alabama. I was told to be quiet and sit down. So I’ve always wondered about that little newspaper.

Well, decades later while reading about the Bush family in Russ Baker’s “Family of Secrets” I came upon the astonishing fact that Allen Dulles; head of the CIA; was on the Board of Directors of the paper, acting as a sort of ghost editor in determining what stories got printed; or not. Kind of makes you want to rethink some of the things you’ve been told…

Hank Williams on The Lost Highway.

Did you ever hear about the death of Hank Williams, Sr., on a back highway early on the morning of January 1, 1953? I would not be born for another 20 months, yet this legendary singer/songwriter has left a lasting impression upon the world in which we live.

I don't ever recall a time of my life in which Hank Williams, Sr. has not been somewhere in the background; whether in movie, song, or his considerable influence on the music we call rock and roll. It all goes back to Hank. John Lennon used to carry the complete works with him on cassette. Bob Hope, after trying to follow him on stage during a "package tour" in the late 1940's said that he would never follow him on stage again. His songs were all about the pain of living, and the humor, locked away within that pain.

His recording career ran only 5 years, from 1948 until his death on the first day of January 1953, yet he left a catalogue of about 267 songs, many of which are still sung today.

Born September 17th, 1923, in Mt. Olive, Alabama, he would be a superstar by age 25, and dead by age 29. And in between he lived a life of physical and emotional pain. Long considered to be the Father of Country Music, he got his first guitar at age 8.

Named Hiram King Williams at birth, Hank learned to play his guitar under the direction of a local black man whom everyone called Tee Tot. Tee Tot was a street singer of the blues variety and young Hank was fascinated by the sounds he heard the old man coax from his guitar. But even more than the sound of the strings, what caught Hank's ear were the painful lyrics sung in an almost joyful manner. It was like Church, you took your pain and turned it into music. Your despair became your salvation.

Early in his teens, Hank began performing around the Greenville area of Alabama. Shortly after that, the family would move to Montgomery. In 1937 his mother opened a boarding house there, and by 1941 Hank had formed his first band, The Drifting Cowboys. They even got air time on the local radio station, WFSA. Known as "The Singing Kid", he did mostly cover versions of Roy Acuff songs and other popular numbers of the day. He would remain with WFSA for the next 9 years, even after becoming a star.

In 1943 he met his first wife, Audrey, while playing a "medicine show" near Banks, Alabama. Within a year they were married and living in his mother's boarding house. She became his manager as his status and reputation grew. But he couldn't seem to break out of Alabama and onto the national scene. This was about to change.

Traveling to Nashville, he was determined to meet Fred Rose, Roy Acuff's publishing partner. Rose was immediately taken with both Hank's guitar and voice. He arranged for Hank to record two songs for Sterling Records, "Never Again" and "Honky Tonkin'" in February 1947. On the strength of those two recordings he was signed to MGM Records and Fred Rose became his manager, as well as his producer.

"Move It On Over" was the first big hit for Hank with MGM in 1947. By 1948 he was a member of the "Louisiana Hayride", both on radio and on the road. His career was soaring. When he did a cover version of "Lovesick Blues" in 1949, he hit Number One and stayed there for 16 weeks, crossing every demographic line imaginable. When he performed the song live at The Grand Ol' Opry, he did 6 encores. I don't believe that record has ever been topped.

But, with all of the fame and success came trouble. Hank's drinking problem, which had been lurking just beneath the surface, began to rear its head again. The long separations from home while on tour; the fights when he was home; all began to take a toll on his marriage to Audrey. But the final "nail in the coffin" happened in late 1951 on Hank's farm in Tennessee, where he was hunting. He fell, re-igniting an old back injury. There was another tour coming up and so he did what so many performers have done before and since. He turned to painkillers, and finally morphine, to deal with the pain. He became almost instantly addicted to the morphine. He was also drinking heavily again.

In early 1952, Hank and Audrey separated for the last time. Yet, 1952 would be one of his most prolific and successful periods. "Honky Tonk Blues", "Half as Much", "Jambalaya", and even my favorite "I'll Never Get Out Of This World Alive" were written and recorded in this final year of his life. They all went to the Top Ten. But he continued drinking and doing morphine. Most of his time awake was spent drinking, drugging and playing with guns.

By August of 1952 he was fired from the Grand Ol' Opry, mainly due to his drunkenness. He was told that he could return once he was sober. The shame of it all was that no one knew how little time was left.

This infuriated Hank to the point of his becoming even more reckless; finally losing his band; as well as his friends. Still working "The Louisiana Hayride" provided him with money to live on. His royalties were being handled by an attorney as part of the divorce from Audrey. He began using local pick up bands, which further reduced the fees he could have been earning.

It was in the fall of 1952, just 90 days before his death, that he married 19 year old Billie Jean Eshlimar, a policeman's daughter. At this same time, he was expecting a child with a woman named Bobbie Jett, and signed an agreement to support the baby once it was born. By December of 1952 he was also having heart trouble, mostly due to the morphine, booze, cigarettes and life on the road. His doctor was a man named Toby Marshall.

On December 31st, 1952 Hank was scheduled to fly to Canton, Ohio to perform on New Year’s Day. The weather was bad and the flight was cancelled, leaving no other option than to travel by car. Hiring a chauffeur, he headed for Ohio in his new Cadillac. Just before leaving "Dr." Marshall gave him 2 injections for the ride. One was Vitamin B-12, the other was a large dose of morphine. Hank got in the back seat, toting a bottle of whiskey, and the chauffeur started out for Ohio.

Early on the morning of January 1st, 1953 the chauffeur was pulled over for speeding. The policeman noticed that the passenger looked more dead than alive and escorted the Cadillac to a West Virginia Hospital where he was pronounced dead at 7 AM New Year's morning. His last record was "I'll Never Get Out Of This World Alive."

His recordings continued to sell after his death, and all of the new songs that had been awaiting release charted in the Top Ten throughout 1953.

For me, Hank Williams has always been there in the background, a place where I can store my pain, face it, or laugh at it. His music is the same as the blues, only the tempo is different.

Tonight is New Year's Eve. I'll go out to dinner, watch a movie, and stay up a bit later than usual. But sometime, after everyone else has gone off to sleep, I will probably still be awake, imagining that I am out there, somewhere on the Lost Highway. And if I tilt my head just right, and listen really hard, somewhere around dawn, I just might hear that Lonesome Whistle Blow.

"This Nonviolent Stuff'll Get You Killed" by Charles E. Cobb (2014)

White Supremacists take note; African-Americans have the same love affair with the Second Amendment as you do. And more reason to cherish that right. After all, they were actually enslaved, you weren't. In this engaging little book the author has taken on the subject of just what part guns played in the non-violent movement for Civil Rights in the 1960’s.  And you know what? Even Reverend Martin Luther King, Jr. kept a loaded pistol handy.

Tracing the story of slavery and the early slave rebellions Mr. Cobb shows just how the mere specter of armed blacks sent cold fear up the spines of their owners. (What a nasty term to apply to another human being – owner!) This is also a book filled with heroes; the ones they never taught you about in school. These were the people behind the headlines; the ones who sheltered the Civil Rights workers from the north when they came down south to help secure the Right to Vote.

Each chapter is filled with new names of ordinary people who; though down at the bottom the pecking order of a racist environment; managed to make not only make a difference, but also maintained some of their dignity in the process. 

How to explain the actions of old Mr. “Joe” McDonald who, after being shown the Constitution for the first time by the author, went into town and demanded that the sheriff return the shotgun which had been confiscated illegally. “I came to get my gun”, was what he said. When the sheriff told him he had no right to it, old Mr. Joe produced the book which the author had given him and said, “This here book says I do.” The startled sheriff returned the weapon without any further ado.

The author also traces the relationship between slavery and the path of gun control in America. The first gun control law was passed in 1640 in Virginia and was aimed at keeping firearms out of the hands of slaves. Since Africans outnumbered the colonists this was of genuine concern. Have you ever seen the film “Mandigo”? This was a real fear to the plantation owners.

African-Americans fighting in the American Revolution faced the hard choice of gambling on becoming free men if they worked for the British, or maybe becoming free men sometime in the future by working for Independence. Surprisingly few slaves actually went over to the British. But their participation in the fight for freedom did nothing to assuage their lot as slaves. As a matter of fact, with the passage of the new Constitution they were enshrined forever as less than whole human beings.

The Civil War was a kind of tipping point for African-Americans and their exposure to weapons. W.E.B. DuBois characterized it like this, “The slave pleaded; he was humble…. And the world ignored him. Then the slave killed white men; and behold he was a man!”

But the best part of this book is the section which covers the African-American journey to freedom between the two World Wars and just after. The old song “How You Gonna Keep ‘em Down On the Farm” was never more applicable than it was for African-Americans returning from the First World War. Having been treated on a somewhat equal basis in Europe, the average black soldier was hard pressed to dampen his disappointment upon returning to the United Sates. He had fought for this country and half expected that sacrifice to be acknowledged. It wasn't.

After the First World War the South seemed to double down on restrictions where African-Americans were concerned. Jim Crow became even tighter and lynching’s; which were never uncommon; increased. Night riding KKK members resurrected the old bed sheets and began a reign of terror against the African-American which would continue unabated for the next 50 years.

I must note, here, that there is a common misconception which holds that the average African-American at the time did not consider the Second World War to be of concern to black folk. This belief is common to both black and white people, but the fact of the matter is that the Second World War was all about race; from genocide in Europe at the hands of the Germans, to enslavement in the Far East by the Japanese. Black folk had to have known that. And after fighting against racism abroad they expected some improvement back home. Moreover, they were now willing to fight for it.

At the end of World War Two things really began to stir. In early 1946, in Columbia Tennessee, an ex-serviceman named James Stephenson, along with his mother Gladys, went to a department store to retrieve a radio which had been left for repair. The radio had been sold after 30 days, which was store policy. But the way in which they were treated and even beaten by store employees on the way out created an incident in which Stephenson; who had been a boxer in the Navy; knocked out a white man. The mother and son were arrested, but the arrests caused such outrage that they were released. But it didn't end there.

Fearing reprisals the black residents of the town massed in the section known as the “Bottom” and organized a defense. Many of the men were ex-servicemen and all had rifles or shotguns in their homes. When the local riff-raff showed up, intent on violence, they got it. Caught between cars of sentries posted at both ends of town, the white intruders were allowed to enter and then escape under a withering fire of bullets. They didn’t bother to return. This was probably the beginning of the armed resistance to the outrages of Jim Crow.

By 1949 this scene would be repeated in several locations; and nowhere more dramatically than in Monroe, North Carolina. Monroe was home to a returned serviceman named Robert Williams; no relation to me, unfortunately. I would be honored to have it so.  After another black man in Monroe was beaten for needing a half day off work and asking for his pay, there was a fight and the man was convicted of murder for defending himself. He was executed in 1947. The KKK would not allow the townsfolk to have a funeral. They threatened the undertaker and anyone else who sought to simply bury the man, who was also a wounded ex-serviceman with a Purple Heart.

At this point Mr. Williams began to organize the towns African-American citizens into a defense league. They surrounded the funeral home armed to the teeth. When the KKK showed up they were fired upon. Just as in Columbia, Tennessee, the KKK fled under a hail of bullets. Williams eventually became President of the local NAACP, over the objections of many other blacks, including Thurgood Marshall, who all considered him to be too radical. He was later exiled to Cuba, later returning home to America where he died in 1996. Rosa Parks gave the eulogy.

The story of a man named C.O. Chin is so fascinating and inspiring that I will leave it to you to read the book if you want to know about him. He was a legend in Madison County, Mississippi and had land holdings, night clubs; including the famous Club Desire; and a thriving liquor business. He played an instrumental role in the early life of CORE.

 

The Deacons for Defense and Justice, the SNCC, CORE and all the rest; even Martin Luther King; owe a great debt to the Second Amendment and the people who availed themselves of that right while living under great peril during the time of Jim Crow. Their stories are told here, some for the first time, by the author.

This is a book which is long overdue, written by a man who was actually there with old Mr. Joe McDonald and showed him how to get his gun back. Until you have read this book you cannot have a complete understanding of what the Second Amendment meant to the Civil Rights movement. Simply put, this is a superb book.

"An Idea Whose Time Has Come" by Todd S. Purdum (2014)

With the Civil Rights Act of 1964 currently under fire by Conservatives, this book comes at a crucial time in our country. With a skillful hand author Todd S. Purdum takes a good look back at just how hard it was to get the legislation passed in the first place; and thereby exposing the risks to be run should we let it be overturned.

Think of a life; in which your legal rights as we know them today; were suddenly altered. What if local laws trumped federal laws whenever you left the Interstates? The W.C. Fields line from “My Little Chickadee” comes to mind. As he is being led off to his own hanging, our wayward hero is heard to cry “I’m new in town, where can I purchase a Book of the Rules?” This may seem absurd on its face, but it’s not too far from the reality which would set in should the Civil Rights Act ever be repealed.

At the time that the Act was made into law, there were sections of our country; not just in the South; where people of color, read that as non-white or “different”, could not obtain a hotel room for the night, or even sit in a restaurant to eat. The hotel maids that touched the sheets of the white patrons were black. The cooks in the restaurants were black. It was an absurd embarrassment. At the time we were engaged in a Cold War with the Soviets, and having a hard time claiming the moral high ground against a backdrop of racial discrimination.

The author draws upon the best writings, and writers, of the Civil Rights chroniclers and then adds to their perspectives of life “in the forefront” by taking a hard look at the people who were actually involved behind the scenes in the legislative process. (The bibliography of this book could serve as a syllabus for a complete course on the history of the Civil Rights Movement.)

After the Freedom Riders; after Selma; there was still no legal basis for an end to Jim Crow in the South until it was codified into law. This book is the story of that end of the Civil Rights struggle. With a colorful cast of characters; every bit as varied, and sometimes flawed; as their counterparts in the front lines were, this book will have you recalling all of the political figures you remember from the news growing up in the 1960’s.

There are President’s Kennedy and Johnson; both struggling against the winds of change to secure the rights of all Americans to vote. There are the Senators; ranging from Humphrey to Dirksen and Thurmond; with one of the longest filibusters in our history as the Senate belatedly comes together to pass a bi-partisan Civil Rights bill. There are enough characters in here to fill a novel; with the difference being that these people actually lived and changed lives in the bargain.

The real difference between this book and the many others concerning the Civil Rights Era is that this book concentrates on what was happening in Washington, D.C. at the time of the protests. While the protests may have been the catalyst for change; without new laws to back up those changes, there is no telling what the fate of the movement would have been. And the story of the wrangling, and the deal making that went into getting the bill passed is every bit as exciting; and at times infuriating; as the actual struggle on the ground was.

Mr. Purdum has taken all of the available information of the Civil Rights Struggle and  written a newer, more concise history of the Civil Rights Act; one which will be appreciated by readers who were not alive at the time these events occurred.

There are very important lessons to be learned from this book; the most important of which is just how hard it was to get this law passed in the first place. And that lesson calls to mind a very important question; why would anyone want to do away with the Civil Rights Act? Bear in mind that the next time this battle is waged it will be more about economics than color.

"Hey, Boo: Harper Lee and To Kill a Mockingbird" (2011)

If you have never read “To Kill a Mockingbird” by Harper Lee then skip this film. It will not be as meaningful if you have not read the book which spawned this wonderful documentary look behind one of the most powerful books ever filmed, and the remarkable woman who penned it.

Through archival footage of New York City in the late 1950”s, and also photos of the small Alabama town where Ms. Harper grew up, the film tells the story of how the book came to be written, and the two remarkable people who made it possible.

It was Christmastime 1956 when Ms. Lee arrived in New York City to visit her friends Joy and Michael Brown. She had been working as an airline reservation clerk and writing sketches of the people she knew back home. These sketches tremendously impressed both Joy and Michael who were fellow transplants form the South. Believing in the integrity of her work they proposed to her that she should remain in New York with them for one year in order to write the book they knew she had within her. That was their Christmas present to her. She accepted the offer and “Atticus” was born.

The initial printing was 5,000 copies, which scared everyone except the publisher. By 1960 the book was released and the awards began to flow in. The book garnered the Pulitzer Prize in 1961 and was made into the classic film starring Gregory Peck in 1962. The film, just as the book, was an instant hit and is considered one of the finest contemporary American classics ever written.

With commentary about the book from such luminaries as Andrew Young, Richard Russo, Roseanne Cash and Oprah Winfrey, the film tells of the impact this book had on the Civil Rights Movement from the perspective of the people who lived through the Jim Crow years down South. When she wrote the book, Ms. Lee had no idea of the impact, and change, that her book would engender.

Sometimes, when explored through the eyes of a child, the image of what we see around us becomes clearer. That is what happened with “To Kill a Mockingbird”. When the nation looked at the plight of Tom Robinson, and then walked around in his skin; as Atticus would say; it became harder and harder to look in the mirror. Though Ms. Lee never wrote another book, “To Kill a Mockingbird” will stand the test of time for the gem that it is.

John Lewis and the Voting Rights Act of 1964

There’s lots of talk about repealing the Voter’s Rights Amendment to the Constitution lately. The photograph above was what I saw in 1965, when I was barely 11 years old. In the foreground is future Congressman John Lewis being beaten by an Alabama State Trooper for daring to exercise his rights of peaceful protest and free speech. The Voting Rights Act of 1964 was brand new; and it was the law of the land; but the Southern states were dragging their feet on enforcement of it, which led to the Selma-Montgomery marches of March 1965.

The first march took place on what became known as “Bloody Sunday”, March 7^th, 1965, which is when the photograph above was taken; 45 years ago yesterday. The marchers were attempting a peaceful protest by marching from Selma to Montgomery; and the state capitol. But first, they would have to cross the Edmund Pettus Bridge. This was; for some arbitrary reason on the part of the police; the line of demarcation which they could not allow the protesters to cross. To aid them in their cause they enlisted fire hoses, police dogs and tear gas; as well as billy clubs; to prevent the protesters from reaching their goal.

The initial march, on Sunday; by about 600 protesters  grew out of frustration over the inability of African-Americans to register and vote; as dictated by the 1964 law. The march was organized by the Dallas County Voter’s League and the SNCC, who both enlisted the help of Martin Luther King, Jr.

The second march grew out of the brutality of the police in preventing the protesters from crossing the bridge. That march was held the following Tuesday as 2,500 protesters turned out and forced their way across the Edmund Pettus Bridge, making their way to the other side before being turned back by a tidal wave of state and local police who were waiting.

It wasn't until March 16^th that the protesters  now stronger in numbers than ever; and backed by over 2,000 soldiers and federalized National Guardsmen, were able to begin the 40 mile march from Selma to the state capitol. At a rate of 10 miles per day, they arrived at their goal on March 24^th, where they were able to formally lodge their protest.

The move in the Congress and Senate today, which is based upon the assertion that the protection of the law is no longer needed to protect the rights of minority voters, is specious on its very face. It is nothing more than an attempt to turn back the clock in America. One of the more unusual aspects of this whole charade is the clamoring by the Right for the addition of the Voter ID requirement.

Democrats; who alleged widespread fraud in the 2000 election; are opposed to a National ID card of any type, including a Voter ID card. Republicans; who contend that there was no fraud in the 2000 election, and no problem in general; are adamantly for one. Neither side is consistent in its reasoning; therefore both positions are suspect.

Simply put, too many people have fought too hard and for too long to attain the Right to Vote for us to turn back the clock now. For us, as a nation, to return the sanctity of the voting process back to the Sates is an invitation to return again to the days when such a law was necessary, and people were beaten in the streets for asking for one. 

Birmingham, Alabama - September 15th, 1963

I was eating breakfast on Sunday morning, September 15th, 1963. I was just about to turn 9 years old. The radio was playing softly in the background when the first reports of the Birmingham bombing came across the news. It shocked me. Even at the tender age of almost 9, it shocked me. Safe in my kitchen it shocked me that there were people who harbored so much hatred that they would kill children in a church. It still shocks me, even today. The following is the text of the news article from the following days newspaper;

Six Dead After Church Bombing

Blast Kills Four Children; Riots Follow
Two Youths Slain; State Reinforces Birmingham Police

Birmingham, Sept. 15 (UPI) -- A bomb hurled from a passing car blasted a crowded Negro church today, killing four girls in their Sunday school classes and triggering outbreaks of violence that left two more persons dead in the streets.

Two Negro youths were killed in outbreaks of shooting seven hours after the 16th Street Baptist Church was bombed, and a third was wounded.

As darkness closed over the city hours later, shots crackled sporadically in the Negro sections. Stones smashed into cars driven by whites.

Police reported at least five fires in Negro business establishments tonight. A official said some are being set, including one at a mop factory touched off by gasoline thrown on the building. The fires were brought under control and there were no injuries.

Meanwhile, NAACP Executive Secretary Roy Wilkins wired President Kennedy that unless the Federal Government offers more than "picayune and piecemeal aid against this type of bestiality" Negroes will "employ such methods as our desperation may dictate in defense of the lives of our people."

Reinforced police units patrolled the city and 500 battle-dressed National Guardsmen stood by at an armory.

City police shot a 16-year-old Negro to death when he refused to heed their commands to halt after they caught him stoning cars. A 13-year-old Negro boy was shot and killed as he rode his bicycle in a suburban area north of the city. Downtown streets were deserted after dark and police urged white and Negro parents to keep their children off the streets.

Thousands of hysterical Negroes poured into the area around the church this morning and police fought for two hours, firing rifles into the air to control them. When the crowd broke up, scattered shootings and stonings erupted through the city during the afternoon and tonight.

The Negro youth killed by police was Johnny Robinson, 16. They said he fled down an alley when they caught him stoning cars. They shot him when he refused to halt. The 13-year-old boy killed outside the city was Virgil Ware. He was shot at about the same time as Robinson.

Shortly after the bombing police broke up a rally of white students protesting the desegregation of three Birmingham schools last week. A motorcade of militant adult segregationists apparently en route to the student rally was disbanded.

Police patrols, augmented by 300 State troopers sent into the city by Gov. George C. Wallace, quickly broke up all gatherings of white and Negroes. Wallace sent the troopers and ordered 500 National Guardsmen to stand by at Birmingham armories.

King arrived in the city tonight and went into a conference with Rev. Fred Shuttlesworth, a leader in the civil rights fight in Birmingham. The City Council held an emergency meeting to discuss safety measures for the city, but rejected proposals for a curfew.

Dozens of persons were injured when the bomb went off in the church, which held 400 Negroes at the time, including 80 children. It was Young Day at the church.

A few hours later, police picked up two white men, questioned them about the bombing and released them.

The Rev. Martin Luther King Jr. wired President Kennedy from Atlanta that he was going to Birmingham to plead with Negroes to "remain non-violent." But he said that unless "immediate Federal steps are taken" there will be "in Birmingham and Alabama the worst racial holocaust this Nation has ever seen."

Dozens of survivors, their faces dripping blood from the glass that flew out of the church's stained glass windows, staggered around the building in a cloud of white dust raised by the explosion. The blast crushed two nearby cars like toys and blew out windows blocks away.

Negroes stoned cars in other sections of Birmingham and police exchanged shots with a Negro firing wild shotgun blasts two blocks from the church. It took officers two hours to disperse the screaming, surging crowd of 2,000 Negroes who ran to the church at the sound of the blast.

At least 20 persons were hurt badly enough by the blast to be treated at hospitals. Many more, cut and bruised by flying debris, were treated privately.

(The Associated Press reported that among the injured in subsequent shooting were a white man injured by a Negro. Another white man was wounded by a Negro who attempted to rob him, according to police.)

Mayor Albert Boutwell, tears streaming down his cheeks, announced the city had asked for help. "It is a tragic event," Boutwell said. "It is just sickening that a few individuals could commit such a horrible atrocity. The occurrence of such a thing has so gravely concerned the public..." His voice broke and he could not go on.

Boutwell and Police Chief Jamie Moore requested the State assistance in a telegram to Wallace; "While the situation appears to be well under control of federal law enforcement officers at this time, the possibility of further trouble exists," Boutwell and Moore said in their telegram.

President Kennedy, yachting off Newport, R.I., was notified by radio-telephone and Attorney General Robert F. Kennedy ordered his chief civil rights troubleshooter, Burke Marshall, to Birmingham. At least 25 FBI agents, including bomb experts from Washington, were being rushed in.

City Police Inspector W.J. Haley said as many as 15 sticks of dynamite must have been used. "We have talked to witnesses who say they saw a car drive by and then speed away just before the bomb hit," he said.

In Montgomery, Wallace said he had a similar report and said the descriptions of the car's occupants did not make clear their race. But he served notice "on those responsible that every law enforcement agency of this State will be used to apprehend them." The bombing was the 21st in Birmingham in eight years, and the first to kill. None of the bombings have been solved.

As police struggled to hold back the crowd, the blasted church's pastor, the Rev. John H. Cross, grabbed a megaphone and walked back and forth, telling the crowd: "The police are doing everything they can. Please go home. The Lord is our shepherd," he sobbed. "We shall not want."

The only stained glass window in the church that remained in its frame showed Christ leading a group of little children. The face of Christ was blown out.

After the police dispersed the hysterical crowds, workmen with pickaxes went into the wrecked basement of the church. Parts of brightly painted children's furniture were strewn about in one Sunday School room, and blood stained the floors. Chunks of concrete the size of footballs littered the basement.

The bomb apparently went off in an unoccupied basement room and blew down the wall, sending stone and debris flying like shrapnel into a room where children were assembling for closing prayers following Sunday School. Bibles and song books lay shredded and scattered through the church.

In the main sanctuary upstairs, which holds about 500 persons, the pulpit and Bible were covered with pieces of stained glass. One of the dead girls was decapitated. The coroner's office identified the dead as Denise McNair, 11; Carol Robertson, 14; Cynthia Wesley, 14, and Addie Mae Collins, 10.

As the crowd came outside watched the victims being carried out, one youth broke away and tried to touch one of the blanket-covered forms. "This is my sister," he cried. "My God, she's dead." Police took the hysterical boy away.

Mamie Grier, superintendent of the Sunday School, said when the bomb went off "people began screaming, almost stampeding" to get outside. The wounded walked around in a daze, she said.

One of the injured taken to a hospital was a white man. Many others cut by flying glass and other debris were not treated at hospitals.

It was the fourth bombing in four weeks in Birmingham, and the third since the current school desegregation crisis came to a boil Sept. 4.

Desegregation of schools in Birmingham, Mobile, and Tuskegee was finally brought about last Wednesday when President Kennedy federalized the National Guard. Some of the Guardsmen in Birmingham are still under Federal orders. Wallace said the ones he alerted today were units of the Guard "not now federalized."

The City of Birmingham has offered a $52,000 reward for the arrest of the bombers, and Wallace today offered another $5,000. But Dr. King wired Wallace that "the blood of four little children ... is on your hands. Your irresponsible and misguided actions have created in Birmingham and Alabama the atmosphere that has induced continued violence and now murder."

Scoop - Governor to Retract Statement Within the Hour

I just got off the phone for the third time to the office of Governor Bentley in Alabama, and have been assured that a retraction of his call for a Return to the Inquisition will be released within the hour.

"Rising Road" by Sharon Davies

America at the close of World War One was a diverse mixture of nationalities and religions. By the early 1920’s the Ku Klux Klan had re-organized and begun a campaign of xenophobia and hatred that spread across the land. At the same time there was a growing Socialist movement involved in labor organization. All this served to pit one American against another, either along the lines of religion or race, politics or money.

Beneath the emerging prosperity there was a growing discontent and intolerance for views that differed from ones own. By 1925 the Klan was marching in Washington, DC, unopposed, down Pennsylvania Avenue and past the White House.

Catholicism was under severe attack. Its adherents were likened to “cross kissers” and “papists.” Into this seething cauldron that was America in the summer of 1921, two people married. This seemingly innocent event would turn into a sensational murder trial involving the girl’s father, Edwin Stephenson,(a former barber turned lay minister)Reverend James Coyle,(the local Catholic Priest) and Hugo Black,(a KKK sympathizer who would go on to become a Supreme Court Justice.)

Ms. Davies has done the seemingly impossible with this book. She has at once presented us with a true life murder-mystery, as well as a complete and accurate overview of the social issues of the time. No easy task.

The two lovers who bought about this commotion are of great interest. The girl, Ruth Stephenson, a Protestant,who is fascinated by the Catholic Church, meets Pedro Gussman at the age of 13 when he is doing some work at her family's home. He is a practicing Catholic from Puerto Rico. He is 24 years older. This is a doomed relationship from the start. The three strikes of race, religion and age make it imposssible for the couple to begin dating a few years after they meet.

Added to this combustible mix is Mr. Stephenson's lack of work as a barber. After accidentally shooting himself in the foot he can no longer stand for long periods of time. He becomes a Protestant lay preacher. Birmingham was a thriving town where many runaways went to get married in civil ceremonies. Mr. Stephenson takes to wandering the steps of the court house in an effort to seek out and marry these young wayward couples in the eyes of God. This effort is frowned upon by the Reverend Coyle, who feels not only that his church is being cheated of the revenue afforded by these marraiges, but also that these marraiges are not valid in the eyes of God.

Ruth's growing relationship with Pedro only fuels her passion for the rituals of his Catholicism and she decides to convert and marry him in the Catholic Church. She is 18 and does not need, nor does she seek, her parents consent. This enrages Mr. Stephenson to the point of confronting Reverend Coyle on the porch of his rectory. What happens there triggers this sensational trial for the Reverends' murder.

There is no doubt that Mr. Stephenson did it, there were witnesses to the act. The trial, instead turns on the "why" behind the murder. Was Ruth brainwashed into becoming Catholic? Aren't Puerto Ricans merely light skinned blacks, as claimed by future Justice Black? And therefore not entitled to marrying outside of their race? The fact that Hugo Black would go on to become such a stalwart advocate of Civil Rights only makes the book more interesting.

The motivations of all the characters involved is mind boggling. Every one has an ulterior motive for the verdict they wish to see. Race, religion and politics, a volatile mixture back in the 1920's, has not changed all that much. The racists seek to keep another group down socially, while the religious crowd tries to force their particular God down your throat and the politicians attempt to walk a fine line, attempting to satisfy us all, on their way to higher office at our expense. One of the arguments presented by the Defense touches upon what would later become known as the "Miranda Decision", in which a defendants right to counsel is affirmed by the arresting authority. This was not done in Mr. Stephenson's case, and Hugo Black skillfully uses this argument to cast doubt upon the evidence for the Prosecution, which included Mr. Stephenson's confession on the night of the murder.

Mr. Stephenson is freed by a jury that takes it's course from the Bible, rather than enacted law. Mrs. Gussman never reconciles with her parents, citing "years of abuse" as her reason. This is a riveting book with applications to today's world and our continued division over these same issues.