We Had Sneakers, They Had Guns: The Kids Who Fought for Civil Rights in Mississippi

Thirty-nine. Return to Ruleville

235 t h i r t y - n i n e Return to Ruleville it was Gloria who first spotted the sign from the backseat. “Ruleville. The Home of Fannie Lou Hamer,” she said excitedly. “Isn’t that nice!” I had to smile. “It is. Wouldn’t Mrs. Hamer be proud? But where’s the Billups Gas Station, Mac? Used to be right over there on the left.” McLaurin turned in the passenger seat and looked at me. “Long gone. Lotta things you remember about Ruleville are long gone.” Gloria touched my shoulder. “I want to see where you lived. Can you still find it?” “Turn here,” said Mac. “I’ll direct you. There’s been some changes.” I felt disoriented. As we moved down the road, we passed the spot where Perry and Fannie Lou Hamer had lived. The old, dilapidated house had vanished. All that remained was the great pecan tree that had given all of us blessed shade. “It’s all so different, Gloria. The road’s paved now . . . there are streetlights . . . the sewage ditches are gone . . . and most of the houses I remember have been replaced.” “Federal housing,” said McLaurin with satisfaction. “One of the good things that came to the Delta once we got the vote in ‘65.” He shifted in his seat. “You remember Jack Harper down in Indianola? Used to think Jack was just one of the good old boys who didn’t want anything to change in Sunflower County. But once the Voting Rights Act was passed, either Jack changed or what I had always thought changed.” He laughed. “In the years since then, Harper and I have gotten on real well.” “I do remember Harper,” I said. “He was chancery clerk and recorder of public documents. We always saw him at the county courthouse when you were still trying to get folks registered. I interviewed him when we were making the documentary film about Mrs. Hamer in 1980. He told 236   |   Mississippi, October 2001 me, ‘Mrs. Hamer was initially perceived as an agitator. But as time went on, as change came about, she became known more as a leader of black people.’ I had to smile at the recollection. On the very sidewalk where nearly every attempt to get blacks enrolled on the voting lists had been frustrated, the chancery clerk was now declaring: ‘Mrs. Hamer’s perception of the usefulness of the Voting Rights Act for the black people in Mississippi was correct.’” McLaurin nodded. “A smart guy. Law school graduate from Ole Miss. Well, Jack always seemed to keep all his political options open. Mrs. Hamer knew that, and she worked with him when he was still chancery clerk down in Indianola to push for the federal housing subsidies for Sunflower County. HUD came through, and in the early seventies the neighborhoods you remember started to change.” He stopped abruptly, and chuckled. “But not everything. There’s Mr. and Mrs. Williams’s house. Pull over.” The small, low house, covered with an imitation mustard-colored brick, looked just as I remembered it. “See that corrugated iron roof, Gloria ? How I hated that iron roof. Every summer it made the inside into an oven.” The little house appeared deserted now, and lonely. The houseplants in the empty tin cans that Mrs. Williams always kept on the ancient, listing wooden table outside the door were not to be seen. And the zinnias that had always made the place cheerful were gone. Weeds had obliterated the tiny lawn Mr. Williams had kept trimmed and overwhelmed the small coveted vegetable garden in the back where, on a hot summer afternoon , the elderly man had taught me how to chop weeds properly. “What happened to Mr. and Mrs. Williams, Mac? It looks like nobody has lived here for a very long time.” “Mr. Williams passed a good while back,” he replied in a low voice. “And I don’t really know about Rennie. She left for California to be near Sharon, her granddaughter. Hey, you must remember Sharon. She was living here then, two years old. A beautiful little girl. Rennie was always talkin’ about Sharon. And after Sharon went off to college in California, Rennie left Ruleville.” Mac cocked his head and smiled. “I liked Rennie. You didn’t mess with Rennie Williams.” He nodded appreciatively. “They were good folks.” Return to Ruleville   |   237 “Show us more, Mac. Anything changed across...