Trailblazer

Dian Murphy

Age

Intro Text


My maiden name is Diane Tucker and in 1963, in the spring of eighth grade, I was at Our Lady of Fatima Elementary School. I was so excited that I was rated as the number one student in the eighth grade with the highest grade average. I was a straight A student. I was a member of Our Lady of Fatima Catholic Church. With all the racial unrest in Birmingham at the time, my church, my community and my family grounded me and made me feel safe. Then Sixteenth Street Baptist Church was bombed and four young Black girls were killed, one of whom I knew. I felt like the world was ending. For the first time in my life, I was scared. (more…)

Ode to Chuck Clarke

Charlotte Clarke Houston

Age

Intro Text


The Clarke family home, located in the center of Birmingham, before it was replaced by the main intersection of freeway arteries in the city, next door to Kids Storyteller Dale Long’s aunt, was always a warm gathering spot for the older Clarke siblings and me and my siblings as a child. I had piano lessons there every Thursday evening. My two Uncles from New York, who remained single and very popular in music for many years, would come home for the holidays each year and always traveled with their horn or mouthpiece. (My father defected from playing in New York to return to Birmingham to raise a family.) Jam sessions were instant.

I grew up with music always in the atmosphere. My father performed jazz as a second job. His day job was as a (“trailblazer,” one of the first few Blacks hired) Claims Examiner for Social Security (he was a math whiz). He routinely plucked out arrangements on our piano. On many approaching weekends I asked, “Where are you playing?”, to see if I would be able to go. (more…)

Marching for freedom led to many days in jail

What I remember most about our marching in 1963, was my being jailed after leaving Sixteenth Street Baptist Church, making it to City Hall, and being thrown in the paddy wagon with all guys! Being kept at the Fairgrounds, and later being sent to the County Jail, for taking part in trying to stop one of the police officers from raping one of the girls. I was kept in a sweat box for days upon days, and kept in jail over a month before my family located me! They kept saying I was too young to be there, but they tried to lose me. (more…)

Born with Brown v. Board of Education decision

Gail Horne Ray

Age

Intro Text


On the day that I was born on May 18, 1954 in Birmingham, Alabama, the newspaper headlines around the country announced that the Supreme Court of the United States had outlawed public school segregation in the case entitled Brown versus Board of Education. Relatives used to tease me and say that when my mother, Quintella Dobbins Horne, a high school teacher, heard that the schools were going to be desegregated, she went into labor. However in 1963, nine years after that decision, after having skipped the second grade, I was in the fourth grade at all-Black Center Street Elementary School.

Until I was approximately eight years old, our family attended Westminster Presbyterian Church. It was pastored by Rev. John W. Rice who was the father of Condoleezza Rice. Condoleezza and I, only a few months apart in age, were in the same Sunday School class. Mrs. Rice was a music teacher and Condoleezza began playing the piano at a very early age. Soon the mothers of other young girls in the neighborhood decided that we should take piano lessons as well, whether we wanted to or not. My Mom also made sure that my younger sister Janet and I took ballet and tap dance lessons. (more…)

“In Ourselves Our Future Lies”

James Nelson, Jr.

Age

Intro Text


Just three and a half years after surviving my unhappiest year, 1963, the Birmingham News interviewed four young adults to speak about changes in the New South. In its May 21, 1967 edition, while a student at Miles College, I was recorded saying, “the South is improving, but you learn that you must struggle to achieve something. You learn that nothing really comes easy.”

Indeed, life during the fall of 1963 was far from easy in one old, hateful southern city: Birmingham, Alabama. I was a senior at Ullman High School eagerly awaiting graduation in its winter class. Cynthia Wesley was a fourteen-year-old student at Ullman; I was two years older. We first exchanged flirting glances. Then, through our friends, we passed little innocent notes to each other. After these notes, our friendship blossomed. She was so smart, happy, and full of hope. I still remember her smile that melted away all my shy defenses. (more…)