Horrible
In June of 1963, my parents moved our family to Birmingham. I thought this was horrible because I would not graduate with my friends in Huntsville.
In September, I started my senior year at Ramsay and we had a different student in our class. Richard Walker was the only black student at Ramsay. (more…)
The school picture
When the bombing of the church occurred and those girls were killed, I was about 10 years old. Our family lived in what was then called Bluff Park (which is now part of Hoover) on Shades Mountain. I was born there, grew up there, attended Bluff Park Elementary school, was an active member of Bluff Park Baptist Church, and had what I thought was an idyllic life. Little did I know what was bubbling all around me.
Unbeknownst to me, my parents had become somewhat involved in the Civil Rights Movement. (more…)
It could have been me
I will never forget the morning of September 15th, 1963. My parents and I were getting ready to go to church when we received the news that Sixteenth Street Baptist Church had been bombed. We immediately tuned in to the radio to find out what happened, and I recall experiencing a mixture of horror, anger, and profound sadness. I could have been one of the girls that was killed. Although I attended a different church, still, it could have been me. . . (more…)
A kid in Detroit closely followed news from Birmingham
One day of 1963 that stands out for me is the day I saw the dogs and water hoses turned loose on Negroes, as, if we were lucky, we were called then. I asked my mother why would they do that, but she said not to worry since we lived in Detroit. I started reading everything I could in regard to this matter, even though it was not taught or mentioned in school. Even though I was only 8 years old, living in Detroit and my parents wisely would never allow me to be involved anyway, I am very sorry I did not do more to protect the people in Birmingham in 1963. (more…)
My feelings regarding the weekend of September 15, 2013
Events leading up to this past week, with so much emphasis on the bombing and murder of my Sunday School friends on September 15, 1963, have brought about very uncomfortable feelings to me of an extremely painful time of my life. I have been constantly reminded of that day when the church shook and I was splattered with glass that was shattered from the blast just a few feet from where several of my Sunday school classmates and I were. It has been very difficult constantly being reminded every day of the event. I am glad it is finally over.
Today, when people experience tragic, horrific events in their lives, they are offered counseling to help them make it through, especially schoolchildren. We were offered nothing. (more…)