“Now, I’m gonna be fair about the thing. I heard there was some white folks right here in Mississippi done supported James Meredith getting into Ole Miss. That speech Medgar Evers gave on television too, some of them took what he said to heart. Made them think, maybe colored folks ain’t had it so good. Maybe there was something to this equal rights business. Maybe things need to change. Some of them, they sure did say that. Minds got changed ’cause of that speech.”
“Well, I guess we’ve got the mayor to thank for that,” said Dora. “He hadn’t gone on television first and made his speech, Medgar wouldn’t have gotten to make his.”
Stacey, Clayton Chester, and I all knew about Medgar Evers’s speech. It had come about because Mayor Allen Thompson of Jackson had gone on television in early May and talked to the Negroes of Jackson. Patronizingly he said that the NAACP and other groups coming from the North were out to fool Jackson’s Negroes and that they should not be cooperating with these organizations or with NAACP’s field secretary, Medgar Evers. He said that whites and coloreds in Jackson had had a good relationship for a hundred years and warned Negroes not to destroy the relationship by listening to Medgar Evers and outside agitators.
Negroes were outraged at the speech.
A week later Medgar Evers went on television to refute what Mayor Thompson had said. Since segregationists controlled the television stations, Medgar Evers had gone directly to the Federal Communications Commission to get airtime, and he told all of Jackson, all of Mississippi, the truth of the matter. He told all listening that things were not as rosy as the mayor said. He told all listening that Negroes in Jackson could not eat at lunch counters in stores where we spent our money or go to the main public library or to tax-supported parks or playgrounds or to downtown movie theaters. He told all listening that there was not one black person on the police force, not one Negro fireman, not one Negro working in government offices, except those employed in segregated facilities. He told all listening that when colored people got sick, we were segregated into colored spaces in hospital. As for the Jackson police, which the mayor said were giving Negroes twenty-four hours of protection, Medgar Evers stated that he believed the police were giving twenty-four hours of harassment instead. He said the Negroes of Jackson wanted all that to change. The Negroes of Jackson wanted the same opportunities as those afforded the white citizens of Jackson.
“I was here at the time and I heard that speech,” Clayton Chester said. “Who would have ever thought a colored man would get the chance to speak to the white people of Mississippi like that? Made me proud.”
Dora too confirmed that the speech was something all right. “Had us glued to our seats. Willie and me and all our children. Everybody in the neighborhood was talking about it.”
“Soon after that speech,” said Little Willie, “that’s when our young people began to take up the cause again.” He was quiet a moment before his face suddenly erupted into a wide grin. “Y’all hear the Horne was here? Just last week! Come to help raise money for the cause. I’m telling you, that’s one beautiful woman!”
Stacey smiled. “Watch it, Willie. Your wife’s sitting right here.”
“Ah, Dora knows how I feel ’bout the Horne.” Little Willie looked up at his wife. “Don’t you, baby?”
Dora laughed good-naturedly, knowing that Lena Horne, Negro actress and singer celebrated for her great beauty, was idolized by many men, black and white. “Thanks for taking my part, Stacey, but men like my Willie here like to dream, and a woman like Lena Horne is just a dream.”
Little Willie laughed too and placed his hand on her knee. “Ah, baby, you know you more’n enough woman for me. You know you my dream.”
“Better be,” said Dora, “after all these years and all these children.”
“Anyways,” Little Willie continued, “Lena spoke at a rally, then later on that same day, she sang. It was golden music from the heavens above!” Little Willie looked upward in sweet remembrance. “Beautiful moment.”
Stacey nodded in acceptance of that fact and stood. “We’d better be getting on home. You let us know if—”
The sound of gunfire blasted the night.
Dora jumped up. “Lord have mercy! What in the world—”
And Little Willie cried, “What the hell!” and rushed across the room, swung open the screen door, and dashed onto the porch. The rest of us followed. There was more gunfire. Across the street a door opened and Little Willie hollered over to his neighbor. “You hear that? What happened?” The neighbor answered he was wondering the same thing. Little Willie and Dora’s children came sleepily onto the porch, questioning their parents about what was going on. None of us knew. Other doors on the block opened, and a hush settled over the neighborhood. We all just stood there waiting. Then a man came running up the street. Little Willie leaned over the porch rail and yelled at him. “Henry! Henry, that you? What’s going on, man?”
“It’s Medgar!” the man yelled back, continuing to run. “It’s Medgar! They done shot him! Right in his driveway! They done shot our Medgar Evers!”
* * *
◆ ◆ ◆
After we learned that Medgar Evers had been shot, like much of the neighborhood, we went down the street to gather in front of the Evers house and silently waited for any news. Folks already gathered there said Medgar Evers had been taken to the hospital. They said a white man hiding in the bushes across the street from the Evers house had shot Medgar Evers as he stepped from his car. Whites from the surrounding blocks came and stood with us. Through the night we waited and we prayed, but when the news came, it was what we all had feared.
Medgar Evers was dead.
* * *
◆ ◆ ◆
It was light before we left Jackson. We had already called home to let everyone know we had made it in and to tell them about the killing of Medgar Evers. When we got to the house, Big Ma had breakfast waiting. No one had eaten, so we all sat down together. As always, Papa was at the head of the table and asked the blessing. Papa didn’t look sick at all, at least not to me. “So, what are your plans for the day?” he asked as he passed the bowl of grits to Stacey.
“Figured first to go see Mr. Turner, see how they’re all doing, and find out if they’ve heard from Moe,” Stacey said.
“You think he could’ve made it home all right?” questioned Big Ma.
Uncle Hammer grunted. “Dangerous, foolish thing for him to come down here.”
Papa smiled at Uncle Hammer. “Yeah, look who’s talking. You know you would’ve done the same, you’d been in his shoes.” Uncle Hammer just looked at Papa, then speared himself some ham from the meat tray of ham and sausages and bacon.