Opening the Doors: The Desegregation of the University of Alabama and the Fight for Civil Rights in Tuscaloosa

18. Jamming the Jails: June 10–13, 1964

chapter 18 Jamming the Jails June 10–13, 1964 This town is sitting on a powder keg. The battle at First African Baptist Church was Tuscaloosa’s first major raciallymotivatedclashsincethemobsspurredbyAutherineLucy ’senrollment at the University of Alabama eight years prior. Yet in the time between, the dynamics had dramatically shifted. While in 1956 a single African Ameri­can female had faced a lawless mob, by 1964, several hundred African Ameri­cans faced the law itself. “Nobody wants to take action like we did,” admitted Tuscaloosa’s pub­ lic safety commissioner George Ryan, “but when the church became a refuge for civil disobedience, it ceases to be a church and becomes a fortress.” While the city would long debate the necessity of the police department’s actions, an equally rousing debate was about whether the use of tear gas was intentional—at least such a concentrated supply directed within the church walls. According to civil rights activist Olivia Maniece, present that day, the tear gas within the church was little more than the result of a poor marksman. “I think what happened is, [the police] were throwing the tear gas at the Jamming the Jails 161 crowd, and it really went through a window, it broke a window . . . I don’t think they were throwing in the church. At first it was not in the church, they were using it on the outside to get the people into the church. But in so doing , they were throwing the canisters, and it broke a window and went inside. Theydidn’tcomeinandjustspraythechurch,perse,afterthepeoplegotback in. They were using it to get the people back in,” she explained, “and of course, after the window all the doors were opened, so with it being all around the church, naturally it got in there.” Yet Maniece’s assessment proved a far more generous interpretation than the one given by other civil rights activists. Reverend Linton blamed the police wholeheartedly. Rather than fulfilling their sworn duty to serve and protect , they had employed instead a kind of billy club and tear gas diplomacy. UponhisreturntothechurchTuesdaymorning,Lintonrecalledseeingwhite women standing on the sidelines “yelling and pointing out to police the children who were being sheltered by adults from attack,” ensuring that not even children were spared. % In response to what would later be known as “Bloody Tuesday,” Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. dispatched a close ally, Reverend James Bevel, to assess and assist in Tuscaloosa while Reverend Rogers and other local leaders remained jailed.RogerswasreleasedonWednesdayafternoon,immediatelyarranginga strategy meeting with Bevel and the remnants of TCAC, primarily to discuss how to raise the necessary funds to release their fellow demonstrators from jail—no easy task given the group’s financial constraints. Over the past year, Reverend Bevel had accumulated a growing list of civil rights achievements, most notably his role in Birmingham’s 1963 children’s crusade—calling for children to march in the streets of Birmingham despite both President Kennedy and Dr. King’s calls to the contrary. Following his brief stint in Tuscaloosa, he would also play a role in organizing 1965’s Selma to Montgomery march, though in the days directly after Bloody Tuesday, his energy remained focused on his current task. Speaking to reporters, Bevel made clear the Tuscaloosa Citizens for Action Committee and the South­ern Christian Leadership Conference’s shared intention to “continue to address ourselves to the grievances of a segregated city,” adding that there was a “good 162 The Movement possibility” Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. would soon come to Tuscaloosa as a result of the recent violence. It was an announcement the city commissioners and police department had long feared. Many believed King’s presence would spur further violence, particularly by giving the United Klans of America a reason to come out from hiding. For Police Chief Marable, an already volatile situation was quickly worsening—seemingly karmic retribution for the previous day’s mishap. % The job of springing the demonstrators from the city jail fell squarely on Reverend Linton. He and King’s bail bondsman made several trips downtown to see to their release, though the city’s procedural red tape hardly made it easy on them. When the bondsman attempted to sign the first bond, he was quickly­denied. “Why?” asked the bondsman. “I’m licensed to sign a bond anywhere in this state for up to $100,000.00.” “Well, you aren’t going to sign one here,” the official...