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On March 7, 1965, after many years of violence in the South over
attempts to address discriminatory practices against blacks (called
“Negroes” then), a group of black activists and members
of the Southern Christian Leadership Conference (SCLC) headed by
Martin Luther King Jr. left Selma, Ala., with the intent to march
to Montgomery, some sixty miles away, to draw national attention
to the struggle for black voting rights. They were stopped at the
edge of town by state troopers, who attacked them with clubs, dogs,
and tear-gas. More than 100 marchers were injured. This incident
came to be called “Bloody Sunday.” King made a nationwide
appeal to all clergy to come to Selma and join with the next attempt
to go to the state capital. Many responded to his appeal.
Fred Cappucino, then UUCSS’s not very adequately paid minister
with seven kids to feed, couldn’t afford to go. Jean (Nickel)
Moore and I, on behalf of the Social Action Committee, asked him
if he would go if we could raise the money. When he said yes, we
quickly called UUCSS members and raised the necessary funds. So
Fred went to Selma. While in Selma awaiting the next march, Jim
Reeb, UU Associate Minister at All Souls in D.C., was clubbed to
death by some white supremacists. Nationwide outrage (or at least
in part of the nation) escalated, and after an appeal to President
Lyndon B. Johnson by King, the march was authorized. People from
all over the country headed for Selma. Alabama Governor George Wallace
called in the Alabama National Guard to “protect” the
marchers. (That made us feel good.)
About 300 people had joined the first march. But 3,000 started
on the successful march, with many others joining along the way.
By the time they reached Montgomery, there were 30,000. I was one
of them. A whole trainload of Washington-area UUs and others had
traveled to Montgomery overnight and fell in with the marchers just
outside of town. Cops with dogs lined our way in. People watching
either cursed or cheered, and many bravely joined the march. The
Alabama National Guardsmen, toting machine guns, lined the top of
buildings. We had a portable radio and heard a commentator say,
“They have just passed the Ebenezer Baptist Church where the
[racial slur of the era] King preaches.” I never
saw an American flag—only Confederate ones.
Some of the other UUs and I left before King finished his speech,
anticipating a madhouse at the train station after the march was
over. A carload of white supremacists tried to run us down on the
way. At the station we had some food and access to the facilities;
but by the time most of the marchers gathered at the station, the
lunch counter was shut down, the johns locked, and the water fountains
turned off. It was dark when the train finally left. Federal marshals
guarding the train came through and told us to lower the shades
so “they” couldn’t get accurate shots at us. A
white woman activist, Viola Louazo, was shot and killed after the
march while driving some locals back to their homes.
I was traumatized by my 24-plus hours. Our wonderful minister,
Fred, had been in the thick of it for over a week. It was years
before I could hear “We Shall Overcome” without weeping.
The national Voting Rights Act was passed in August of that year.
—Sammy Schnetzler
Published in the Uniter 12-17-02
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