Becoming King

by Troy Jackson

  A few days after the trial, King received a letter from Nixon. While Nixon thought King had been foolish to take the chance of allowing the police an opportunity to assault him “behind closed doors,” he applauded the decision to serve time rather than pay a fine, calling it “the most courageous stand in that direction since Bayard Rustin, serve time [sic] in Carolina. And because of your courage in face of known danger I want to commend you for your stand for the people of color all over the world, and especially the people in Montgomery.” King thanked Nixon for his letter a few days later, noting: “I am sorry that I have not seen you in a long, long time. I hope our paths will cross in the not-too-distant future.”34

  Nixon’s letter to King demonstrates the competing agendas that added to the difficulties for the Montgomery struggle following the boycott. King had stressed that the struggle was “bigger than Montgomery,” and Reddick claimed that the local movement’s effectiveness was demonstrated primarily through its “positive national and international effect, far more significant than any local effects.” In contrast, while Nixon acknowledged the global dimension of King’s willingness to go to jail to confront injustice, he was “especially” pleased that King had stood for “the people in Montgomery.” As King, Abernathy, and Reddick concentrated on building a regional civil rights movement, Nixon’s heart remained first and foremost with the people of his city. Nixon longed for a return to a civil rights struggle defined by the plight of Montgomery’s African American citizens and fortified by the courageous action of local people. King’s attention was elsewhere.35

  In the summer of 1958, the few whites working for racial change in Montgomery continued to experience significant backlash for their support of integration. Some simply decided to leave town. Robert Graetz, the only white clergyman in the MIA, accepted a call to pastor a Lutheran Church in Columbus, Ohio. Soon after, the interracial woman’s group called the Fellowship of the Concerned decided to hold a daylong meeting at the Father Purcell Unit of St. Jude’s Hospital. Someone got wind of the meeting and proceeded to go through the hospital parking lot writing down the license plate numbers of those in attendance. They used this information to get the phone numbers of those affiliated with the Fellowship of the Concerned. Threatening and harassing phone calls soon followed, and participants’ names appeared in a segregationist paper called the Montgomery Home News. Olive Andrews recalled: “They didn’t publish names of black women at all but they published names of white women and their addresses and their telephone numbers. They gave the husbands’ names and their business addresses and their telephone numbers.”36

  Andrews later reflected that the fallout from the meeting at St. Jude’s was the first time she felt serious opposition in Montgomery to her organization. She speculated that the reason for the turmoil was that the group had elected to meet in space provided by a white institution. She had been excited about the event and had mailed out hundreds of invitations throughout the area, inadvertently alerting somebody at the post office that the interracial event was taking place. They violated a sacred southern taboo that day by eating together. They shared carry-out boxed lunches because no restaurant in Montgomery would have served them. Some of those harassing the Fellowship of the Concerned made a flier they put on windshields throughout Montgomery telling about a meeting at St. Jude’s where “nigger men and nigger women” ate together with whites.37

  Despite the repressive atmosphere perpetuated by many white churchgoers in Montgomery, King continued to believe the church had the opportunity to be an incredible beacon for peace and justice. He attributed some of the hypocrisy found in people who attend church while failing to be advocates for justice to the types of sermons preached in many churches. Instead of addressing deep spiritual needs, some clergy offered messages filled with positive thinking and plans for personal achievement. In a sermon titled “A Knock at Midnight” delivered in Chicago, King bemoaned the church’s failure: “Hundreds and thousands of men and women in quest for the bread of social justice are going to the church only to be disappointed.” King challenged the church to provide the bread of faith, hope, and love to a desperate world.38

  In the fall of 1958, Harper and Brothers published Stride toward Freedom, King’s memoir of the Montgomery bus boycott. In conjunction with the release, King embarked on a publicity tour that included several days in New York City. During a book signing appearance at a Harlem bookstore, a mentally unstable woman named Izola Curry stabbed King. While the wound did not prove fatal, he was hospitalized for several days. The stabbing forced King to adopt a slower pace for several weeks while he recovered at the home of pastor and family friend Sandy Ray in Brooklyn. When he finally returned to Montgomery over a month later, he was greeted warmly by a large crowd at the airport. In his remarks to those gathered, King announced: “I have come back, not only because this is my home, not only because my family is here, not only because you are my friends whom I love. I have come back to rejoin the ranks of you who are working ceaselessly for the realization of the ideal of Freedom and Justice for all men.” Reflecting on the outpouring of goodwill he had received after the stabbing, King surmised that “this affection was not for me alone. Indeed it was far too much for any one man to deserve. It was really for you. It was an expression of the fact that the Montgomery Story had moved the hearts of men everywhere. Through me, the many thousands of people who wrote of their admiration, were really writing of their love for you.”39

  The stir caused by Stride toward Freedom in Montgomery was not all related to King’s subsequent stabbing. According to Dexter member Thelma Rice, tempers flew when the book came out: “Some people felt they were left out of the publication and their contributions to the struggle diminished or overlooked.” Others believed the book failed to properly credit the labors that took place in Montgomery before King’s arrival on the scene. Many of the fractures in the town’s African American community that Trezzvant Anderson highlighted in his Pittsburgh Courier articles were further exacerbated by the appearance of King’s book.40

  The stabbing forced King to delay his annual report to Dexter by several weeks. When he finally submitted his chronicle of the previous ministry year, he thanked his congregation for their ongoing support and encouragement. Calling the year “rather difficult” personally, he noted that he faced “the brutality of police officers, an unwarranted arrest, and a near fatal stab wound” that had affected him greatly. Dexter remained supportive through “thoughtful, considerate gestures of goodwill” that helped provide King “the courage and strength to face the ordeals of that trying period.”41

  The dawn of 1959 provided King with additional opportunities on both the national and international stage. In late January, a group of seventy-five Alabama African American leaders convened at Abernathy’s First Baptist Church to respond to the consistent roadblocks preventing many blacks from voting in the state. At the conclusion of the meeting, they sent a telegram to President Eisenhower seeking “more serious concern for the potentially dangerous state of racism in Alabama and to act with firmness consistent with the noblest democratic traditions of America and make real for Negroes the rights guaranteed by the US Constitution.” King also had opportunity to assess the continued contributions of some local whites, describing Alabama Council on Human Relations executive director Robert E. Hughes as “a fine person, a dedicated Christian and a white southerner who is deeply devoted to the principles of freedom and justice for all.”42

  In February, Lawrence Reddick and the Kings departed for India in an effort to better understand the life, teachings, and impact of Gandhi and the Indian independence movement. At a press conference held upon his arrival at his hotel in New Delhi, King was asked by an Indian reporter about the degree of transformation experienced by whites in Montgomery. His response hinted at the continued resistance that had caused the local movement to stagnate: “I wish that I could say that our movement has transformed the hearts of all of Montgomery—some, no doubt; but there is a
degree of bitterness and a refusal to accept a new way of human relations.” While King’s trip provided him the opportunity to interact with many Indian leaders including Prime Minister Nehru, the Quaker guide for the trip was frustrated at what he observed as the priorities of the Kings and Reddick: “All three had almost fanatical interest in snapshots, pictures, and newspaper publicity. Many Indians noticed this and even commented on it. Almost before greeting a person or group they were posing for the camera (they carried three wherever they went).” He later added that “constantly they had their eyes on the USA and the impact the trip would be making there. And so much of their conversation as we were traveling about concerned this same subject.” While the guide’s letter chronicles miscommunications that are common with international travel, his observations do raise the question of the gap between image and reality. King was certainly sincerely interested in the life and legacy of Gandhi, but the letter suggests King’s focus often drifted to how he and the movement could use this trip to further his leadership in and the effectiveness of the fight for justice in the United States.43

  Following their time in India, the Kings and Reddick visited the Holy Land, which was the backdrop for King’s Easter sermon a few weeks later. He shared his experience as he visited the traditional site of Jesus’ crucifixion: “something within began to well up. There was a captivating quality there, there was something that overwhelmed me, and before I knew it I was on my knees praying at that point. And before I knew it I was weeping. This was a great world-shaking, transfiguring experience.” King was so moved that he elected to return to his hotel alone “to meditate on the meaning of the cross and the meaning of the experience I just had.” In his reflections on Jesus’ death, King accented his willingness “to be obedient to unenforceable obligation.” He added that “the cross is an eternal expression of the length to which God is willing to go to restore a broken community.” In King’s mind, human beings had “broken up communities” and “torn up society. Families are divided; homes are divided; cultures are divided; nations are divided; generations are divided; civilizations are divided.” King then commented on Jesus’ empty tomb: “the important thing is that that Resurrection did occur” and “that grave was empty,” meaning “all the nails in the world could never pierce this truth. All of the crosses of the world could never block this love. All of the graves in the world could never bury this goodness.”44

  Montgomery’s spring elections provided some hope that goodness could indeed triumph in Montgomery. In the April 1959 MIA newsletter, Jo Ann Robinson celebrated local political changes, noting that “March 16 and March 23, 1959 are memorable days in the political life of Montgomery, Alabama.” She emphasized the defeat of both Clyde Sellers and Mayor Gayle, both of whom had been primary adversaries of the MIA during the boycott. Robinson credited successful voting drives for making the difference: “The relentless efforts on the part of Negroes to get qualified as voters bore some fruit in the election. The total number of qualified voters in this group was less than two thousand five hundred (2,500). But leadership on the part of Mr. Rufus A. Lewis and the precinct workers coupled with a spirit of unity and determination paid off.” Leaders of the White Citizens Council did not share Robinson’s enthusiasm. They stressed the pivotal role African Americans had played in the defeat of Mayor Gayle, arguing most had done so “in obedience to instructions given them by the Negro bosses of the Montgomery Improvement Association acting in the absence of, but, as we believe, with the approval of Martin Luther King. All evidence is absolutely conclusive that in Monday’s election the Negro votes will decide who will be mayor of Montgomery unless the white voters wake up, fight Negro bloc voting with white bloc voting, get behind one of the two candidates and thus take the balance of power out of control of race agitators.”45

  Perhaps taking their cue from the WCC, in April the board of Trinity Presbyterian Church sent a letter to Mrs. Arnold Smith, who was serving as president of the congregation’s women’s ministry. The letter instructed Smith to stop being so outspoken regarding the need for racial justice in Montgomery, noting “We would earnestly recommend to you that in your program of work you avoid these questions and leave them out of your consideration entirely.” Some chose to use violence rather than letters to communicate their displeasure with those agitating for racial change. Throughout Alabama, there were “several serious incidents of beatings and kidnappings” of African Americans. Fred Shuttlesworth, the president of Birmingham’s Alabama Christian Movement for Human Rights, sent King a letter seeking more direct organization and action throughout the state. Shuttlesworth had grown weary of conferences and summits that failed to produce “positive action.” He urged King to recognize the limits of oratory, for “when the flowery speeches have been made, we still have the hard job of getting down and helping people to work to reach the idealistic state of human affairs which we desire.” In late May, three Montgomery African Americans were severely beaten and MIA member Horace G. Bell disappeared near a lake in Selma. When Bell’s body was recovered a few days later, authorities claimed he had drowned, but local blacks suspected he had been but the latest victim of racial violence. The incidents led King to write to the Alabama governor, John Malcolm Patterson, seeking prompt action as “to allow these incidents to go without public cognizance of them will encourage greater and more frequent acts of violence by these irresponsible persons.”46

  During the summer of 1959, King continued to lobby for structural change while also attacking the illogical nature of common racist arguments. King believed that in order to effectively work for social change in Montgomery, one must realize that biblically based and logically sound arguments would not sway those committed to segregation. In a sermon titled “A Tough Mind and a Tender Heart,” King argued: “There are those who are soft minded enough to argue that racial segregation should be maintained because the Negroes lag behind in academic, health, and moral standards. They are not tough minded enough to see that if there are lagging standards in the Negro community they are themselves the result of segregation and discrimination.” The real danger is that politicians often prey upon soft-mindedness to preserve power at the expense of justice: “Little Rock Arkansas will always remain a shameful reminder to the American people that this nation can sink to deep dungeons of moral degeneracy when an irresponsible, power-thirsty head of state appeals to a constituency that is not tough minded enough to see through its malevolent designs.”47

  King also challenged the continual temptation to conform and remain silent during threatening times. Five years into his pastorate, he still faced the tepid qualities of many professionals in his congregation. Emboldened for a season during the boycott, many gave into their inclination to not rock the boat after the protest ended. King directly challenged their passivity: “We cannot win the respect of the white people of the South or the peoples of the world if we are willing to sell the future of our children for our personal and immediate safety and comfort. Moreover, we must learn that the passive acceptance of an unjust system is to cooperate with that system, and thereby become a participant in its evil.”48

  King and the Southern Christian Leadership Conference faced growing criticism as the year wore on. When Jet magazine published an article questioning the organization, King wrote a letter to the periodical’s Washington bureau chief defending the SCLC by claiming “our aim is neither to grab headlines nor have a multiplicity of mass meetings on the question of registration and voting; we are concerned about getting the job done.” He emphasized the grassroots efforts of some in the organization, noting “more than fifteen of the leading ministers of Montgomery, Alabama took a day off and went into numerous homes to determine how many people were registered and encourage those who were eligible to do so.” This growing national criticism of the SCLC for their lack of tangible accomplishments led a growing number of members to urge King to relocate to Atlanta so he could devote more time to the floundering organization.49

  Con
vinced of the pressing need for stronger day-to-day leadership of the SCLC, King decided to accept an offer from Ebenezer Baptist Church in Atlanta to join his father as co-pastor of the church. It was a difficult decision to leave Dexter, but King announced his resignation following Sunday services on November 29, 1959. A draft prepared for the occasion included the following notes: “Little did I know when I came to Dexter that in a few months a movement would commence in Montgomery that would change the course of my life forever…. Unknowingly and unexpectedly, I was catapulted into the leadership of the Montgomery movement. At points I was unprepared for the symbolic role that history had thrust upon me. Everything happened so quickly & spontaneously that I had no time to think through the implications of such leadership.” Many in the church responded with words of encouragement, including deacon T. H. Randall, who wrote a letter appreciating “the kind of life” King had lived as pastor, noting his “sermons and talks have served as a compelling force in our lives—urging us to live the full life thus broadening the horizons of our responsibilities beyond our own church.”50

  A few short days after his resignation from Dexter, King addressed the MIA at the organization’s annual conference on Nonviolence and Social Change. His speech included a detailed update on progress in the local struggle for integration and justice. Noting the MIA “is still attempting to make this community a better place to live” and remained “active and deeply committed to its task,” King highlighted its contributions to many community projects, including a $20,000 gift to construct a new YMCA and $11,000 to support Vernon Johns’s Farm and City Enterprise, a cooperative grocery store in the area. King hoped Farm and City would “stand as a symbol of what the Negro could do by pooling his economic resources.” He also stressed the increased patronage of African American–owned businesses since the boycott, a tactic regularly encouraged at MIA mass meetings. The organization had also contributed money to several legal cases, including the defense of Jeremiah Reeves. Perhaps the biggest contribution of the MIA in King’s mind was its role as the first and best place for the community’s African American citizens to go when they had some difficulty. The MIA provided “an organization, with its doors opened everyday in the week, that will fight” for justice and help ensure the well-being of Montgomery’s most vulnerable citizens. By taking on this role, the MIA was “doing a day to day job that is a persistent threat to the power structure of Montgomery.”51