The Great American Road Trip

This morning we started with a visit to the Peace and Justice Memorial Center in Montgomery. It is one of the newest memorials commemorating the Civil Rights movement. This particular memorial is dedicated to those who were killed by lynching.

This subject is so hard because it is so unbelievable and inconceivable that something like this could happen – in the country. It was an early version of domestic terrorism which struck fear in the hearts of those who were most likely to become victims: the African-American.

The reasons, if there were any, didn’t seem to matter. “Crimes” included following too close to someone on the street or sidewalk, or “looking” at someone’s wife, or asking your neighbor a question, or just walking down the street.

The memorial has several features, starting with the sculpture of several slaves – in chains – standing defiant, pleading for mercy, or crying out in anguish. It is a very moving scene which gives you an idea of the horror of slavery. Of being bound by chains – and oppression. The sculpture stands at the edge of a very green lawn, upon which stands a strange structure. As you get closer, your eyes are drawn to the number of monolithic slabs of rusted iron, inscribed with names and dates. The iron slabs are connected to the ceiling by steel bars which run from the top of the slab, all the way up.

I walk up to these slabs and I put my hand on the rough surface of rusted iron, and I don’t like the feel of it.

The names and dates refer to victims, some from the 1800’s, some from 1940. They are victims of lynchings. Many of these people were ritualistically beaten, tortured, hung, and in some cases, burned. As I walk amongst these slabs, I notice that the floor slowly goes down into an incline, and the slabs rise to the top. Now, the names and dates are hanging in the air. The effect is chilling. There are hundreds of these rusted slabs – all hanging. It gives off an off-putting feeling, for me it felt like people watching me. I am reminded of the famous song by Billie Holliday. “Strange Fruit” hanging from the trees, and swaying in the breeze…There are other statues and memorials throughout this sad park, but those slabs, combined with the oppressive humid heat of the morning, is almost too much. I am glad when I get back to my truck.

We left Montgomery behind, and headed to Birmingham, Alabama. There was really only one thing we wanted to see. I teach a poem called “Ballad of Birmingham” by Dudley Randall. My boys have read the poem in their school. It is about the 1963 bombing of the 16th street Baptist Church. A bomb had been placed beside the church (a known place for the black community to meet and plan), under some stairs. In the blast, there were four victims. Four little girls who were getting ready for church in their Sunday School classroom, down in the basement. It was one of those moments in history in which out of the ashes of despair and anguish, a movement catches its spark. We came to Birmingham to bear witness to the four little girls who died that day.

Tomorrow, we end our Civil Rights tour in Atlanta. There we will visit Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. and his wife, Coretta Scott King. We will see the home Dr. King was born in, and we will see where his final resting place is.

Some thoughts:

• We have seen the fringe effects of Barry (the storm, not Obama). Driving rain comes suddenly, and then disappears as fast. And yet, the humidity remains. It rains, and still, you sweat.
• Following yesterday’s rant about drivers in the south – Mississippi’s bad driving has taken a back seat to those here in Alabama. It’s not bad driving so much as it is reckless, weaving in and out at high rates of speed, driving. I have to keep on my toes. Things happen fast!
• I had a thought about some of the problems this country is facing these days. I look at the Civil Rights movement, and I’m struck by the fact that most times than not, the people who want the status quo and are resistant to change, are often the ones who eventually end up on the wrong side of history.
• I finished my audio book by Trevor Noah, and decided that I can do this (at least on this trip). I downloaded another comedy-tinged memoir: “I Talk Pretty One Day” by David Sedaris. I’ve never read his stuff, but he comes highly recommended. So far, it’s been funny.
• Here is a link to Dudley Randall’s poem about the bombing in Birmingham: https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/46562/ballad-of-birmingham
• Some of you might not remember Holliday’s “Strange Fruit”, but you might remember “Birmingham Sunday” by Joan Baez. I’m not a huge fan of her version. Take a listen to this one by a fabulous singer, Rhiannon Giddens: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4_T5KlTpvoM

That’s it for tonight. The strain of the trip is beginning to wear me down. I’m looking at where I could put an extra day (one of no driving) into our itinerary. There are several options. Boston is the leading contender. I hope all of you are well this evening. Hold your loved ones tight, and love.