“Sir? Why?”
“The boys, they all got their families and here you are, still alone. Flynn’s been gone a long time now, Cassie, and your mama and me, we worry about you.”
“Oh, Papa, I’ve told you before, don’t worry about me. No need. I’m fine.”
“I know you keep telling us that, but you know that don’t stop us from worrying—”
“And I also keep telling you, I’ve got my work.”
“Well, work, that might keep you busy, but I don’t see how it keeps you company, ’specially come nightfall when the workday’s done.” Papa fell into silence. When he spoke again, he was looking up at the trees, not at me. “You know how your mama and me thought about Mr. Hallis. He was a nice man . . . but you know how we felt.” I didn’t say anything. I was feeling guilty that I was not being honest about my feelings for Guy. Papa looked back to me and went on. “Your mama and me, we don’t want you to be alone, Cassie. There’s still time for you to find somebody, somebody to love, maybe even have children. Love to see a grandchild from my baby girl. We want you to be happy, honey. Are you happy, Cassie?”
I placed my hand in Papa’s calloused hand. “When I’m here, in this place, Papa, with all of you, I am. I’m very happy.” Papa squeezed my hand, and together, we looked up into the trees.
* * *
◆ ◆ ◆
September came, and Mississippi headlined the news. A young black man named James Meredith was attempting to enroll at the all-white University of Mississippi. James Meredith was twenty-seven years old, a student at all-black Jackson State and an Air Force veteran. He was denied admission. With the help of the NAACP and its Mississippi field secretary, Medgar Evers, who had also once applied to the university and been denied, James Meredith filed a lawsuit against the University of Mississippi, stating that he was denied admission based on his race. A federal court, supported by a Supreme Court ruling, ordered the University of Mississippi to admit James Meredith.
On September 20, James Meredith, with the backing of the court order, went to the university campus to register at “Ole Miss,” as the university was affectionately called by white Mississippi, but he was denied admission by the governor himself, one Ross R. Barnett. Governor Barnett had gone on statewide television and proclaimed that a Negro would never be admitted to the University of Mississippi. Many whites considered the university a white sanctuary, a bastion of white purity, and they wanted it to remain that way. They said keeping the school all-white would protect the white race. James Meredith did not give up. On September 25 he again attempted to enroll at the University of Mississippi. Again he was denied admission by the governor, Ross Barnett.
That wasn’t the end of it.
On September 26 James Meredith once more attempted to register. This time it was the lieutenant governor, Paul Johnson, who blocked him and denied his admission. By now the Kennedys had become involved. The state of Mississippi had defied a federal court order, and President Kennedy and his brother Attorney General Robert Kennedy had no choice but to enforce that order. A war had been fought a hundred years before that decided federal law superseded state law, and Mississippi had to comply with the federal order. It was understood that James Meredith again would attempt to register; this time he would have the full backing of the Kennedy administration and, if necessary, federal troops. The date set for the next attempt at enrollment was Monday, October 1.
On Saturday, September 29, at an Ole Miss–Kentucky football game, Governor Barnett appeared before the all-white stadium crowd and cried, “Never!” and the aroused crowd responded in kind, chanting “Never!” Late Sunday afternoon September 30, the news reported that hundreds of federal armed guards had arrived outside the administration building at Ole Miss. A white crowd had begun to gather on the campus, and before the sun was down a riot broke out as the crowd challenged the guards. Governor Barnett went on Mississippi television and urged calm. He said he had been told by Attorney General Robert Kennedy that James Meredith was already on the Ole Miss campus. Later that night, he assured his fellow white Mississippians that the state of Mississippi would never surrender to the court order.
The rioting grew fierce.
President Kennedy addressed the nation. He said, “No man is entitled to defy a court of law.” He too called for calm. He called for rational thinking.
Christopher-John and Clayton Chester with their families had come over to Stacey and Dee’s during the afternoon, and we all watched the television news, transfixed, as the rioting, out of control now, raged on and the standoff between the state of Mississippi and the federal government continued. Not only were the white students rioting to keep James Meredith from registering, but also hundreds of whites from around the state and elsewhere were pouring into the university town of Oxford to combat the guards and prevent the enrollment. We watched until after the nightly news. The fierce rioting was still going on.
The next morning we learned just how bad things had gotten down in Oxford. Two people had been killed and more than one hundred wounded, including federal marshals. Several hundred people had been arrested. The white rioters had thrown rocks and bottles, overturned and burned cars, and smashed windows as they raged against the admission of James Meredith. During the night President Kennedy had ordered in thousands of Army troops from Tennessee to quell the violence, and the soldiers had put a stop to all the mayhem. Before eight o’clock on Monday morning, James H. Meredith was enrolled as the first black student at the University of Mississippi.
We could hardly believe it.
* * *
◆ ◆ ◆
The South’s racist’s armor was starting to fracture. Voting registration was now allowed in some states. Interstate buses now allowed integrated seating. Lunch counters in South Carolina and North Carolina, Georgia and Virginia were now integrated. It looked as if we were actually beginning to win this fight. So much was happening, even in hard-line Mississippi, but we knew that not everything was about to change, at least not right away. Racism and bigotry had been centuries in the making and were not about to disappear without a trace overnight. We had not yet gotten all we were fighting for, but we were making inroads. In October, Mississippi had its state fair. As always, the first week of the fair was for whites only. The following three days were for blacks. Medgar Evers of the NAACP called for a boycott of the fair. Black folks mostly stayed away. We were, as Mama said, hitting the white powers in Mississippi in their pocketbooks.
* * *
◆ ◆ ◆
As Christmas and the new year approached, ’lois wrote one of her long letters to Mama, giving her all the details to pass along to Papa and Big Ma about the family and how we all were doing. ’lois always wrote long letters. She had gotten that from Mama, and Mama always responded with a long letter of her own. Everybody else in the family, including me, wrote a page or two and were done, but not ’lois and Mama. When Mama wrote back, ’lois shared her Christmas letter with the rest of us. Mama wrote about the boycott of Jackson stores recently begun by Medgar Evers and the NAACP. It was hitting downtown merchants hard right before Christmas. Demands were for the end of segregation in the stores, the right to first come, first served service, as well as for Negroes to be addressed with respect by all store personnel as Mr. or Mrs. or Miss, the same as white patrons. Mama also wrote that there had been more trouble in the area. Hooded riders had driven through Strawberry and throughout the countryside. Pastor Hubbard had asked that no Christmas lights be displayed, in support of the Jackson boycott and to protest for our demand for equal rights. We did not need lights to celebrate the birth of the Christ child. In Toledo, at our church, we asked that the lights be darkened too.