‘The entire MJUMBE team has left the fraternity house. The information center could not inform me as to where they were. I told the man on the phone that I would call back.’
‘I guess that's all you could do,’ Mallory admitted nervously.
McNeil reached for his drink and realized that it was empty. Anyone who knew the history teacher would have easily been able to tell that he, too, was more nervous than he was letting on. They would point out the fact that he rarely drank as proof positive that something was troubling him. They might have been able to narrow it down to the student strike if they had the background. No one could safely say any more than that, however. Arnold McNeil himself couldn't safely talk about more than that. There was something eating away at the corners of his consciousness, something he could not put his finger on for the life of him. It caused him to raise his hand and order another drink.
24
On the Spot
Miss Felch's ironclad composure was so severely punctured when the five young Black men entered her office that she almost poured the steaming coffee from the pot in her hand down the front of her suit.
‘MJUMBE here to see Mr Calhoun.’ Baker spoke as if he had not noticed the nervous juggling act.
Miss Felch pushed down the far button on her telephone and spoke into the receiver. ‘MJUMBE here to see you, sir,’ she reported.
‘Send them in!’ was Calhoun's audible reply. Miss Felch gestured toward the door to the inner office.
Calhoun was on his feet when the five men entered. The four football players all wore black center-pocketed dashikis. Their heads were shaved and hardened muscles were revealed below the short sleeves of the shirts. Abul Menka wore a gold dashiki with black trim. He had a thick head of bushy hair with a part on the left side; sunglasses concealed his eyes.
‘Sit down, please,’ Calhoun said, gesturing to a sofa and chairs in the corner of the room closest to the outer office. The men sat down. Abul produced a package of cigarettes and lit one. He looked around for an ashtray and found one on the desk behind him. He had never been in the president's office before and to him its most apparent aspect was a sickly odor of cherry tobacco.
‘I understand from this copy of The Statesman that your organization is known as MJUMBE,’ Calhoun said, holding a copy of the paper. ‘You have to excuse me, but the only organizations that I'm aware of on campus are the organizations that have university charters.’
‘We're a newly formed organization,’ Baker said. ‘I don't necessarily see the need of political organizations to form any kind of communications with the charter anyway. We don't need money from the Student Government or the university proper either.’
‘That's not the purpose of the SGA charter entirely. There are quite a few groups listed who don't come under any university funds. I suppose the primary purpose is in a social vein. If your organization wanted to hold a function on campus and needed permission you would need to be included in the charter. Especially if you wanted to charge an admission fee.’
‘It would allow the administrators to keep tabs on us,’ Ben King suggested.
Calhoun smiled thinly. ‘You can look at it that way if you choose to,’ the president admitted. ‘I'm sure that Mr Baker, having been a candidate for Student Government office can give other reasons. It seems particularly appropriate if you intend to organize yourselves as another political party or even as political spokesmen since I had no knowledge of your group or of how to get in touch with you.’
‘We heard that you were pagin’ us,’ Baker said. ‘We'll be glad to leave our number with your secretary.’
‘Frankly,’ Calhoun said, looking away momentarily, ‘I had an idea of talking to you men along with Earl Thomas of the SGA. I wouldn't want to give one side of the issue any information that was not available to the other team. Maybe I should have Miss Felch try the SGA number again.’ Calhoun left his guests where they sat and talked to his secretary on the intercom.
‘Mr Thomas was seen in the building not long ago,’ Miss Felch said. ‘I sent a messenger over to his office.’
‘What was he doing in the building?’ Calhoun asked.
‘He was in the lobby when the messenger saw him.’
‘Thank you.’
Baker had taken Calhoun's absence as an opportunity to make sure that Ben King muzzled all side remarks such as the one about administrative tabs being kept on organizations.
‘I'd really like to have Thomas here,’ Calhoun said regretfully, ‘since he brought the demands to my house last evening.’
‘We don't represent diffrent points of view,’ Baker said.
‘I have to feel that there is some sort of dichotomy,’ Calhoun said diplomatically. ‘Otherwise there would be no real need for two representative bodies.’
‘We are a group of concerned students who were not appointed to any Student Government posts through election. We didn't feel that that was any reason for us to abandon our political feelings. We work with the SGA and Brother Thomas has been workin’ with us.’
Ogden Calhoun's eyes hardened considerably. ‘Then I will say this to you with the assurance that it will get back to Thomas,’ he said. ‘I have not appreciated the tactics used; the attempt to force me to make decisions contrary to my belief and my experience as president of this university. I have prepared a statement for the press when they reconvene at four thirty. Here are copies for all of you.
‘Follow along please: The call for a student strike against Sutton University by the members of a political organization (unchartered and unrecognized) along with the Student Government Association is an obvious attempt to continue the intimidating and provocative means that were initiated by the set of demands placed before me last evening. I remind the community that these demands were issued with an ultimatum included, namely that I reply by noon of the following day. The SGA leader who visited my home gave no indication that the SGA would be available for the type of constructive dialogue that has always marked progress at Sutton. Neither did he indicate as much as one reason why any of the demands should be agreed to. The idea of a student strike was never mentioned. The number of demands that I should answer positively was not set as a condition for averting a student strike. Therefore, with a clear conscience, I state that if the student leaders responsible for the student action do not reconsider their immature decisions and offer other more democratic channels for administrative consideration, I will be forced to take action to restore order to the university. This includes probable action against the student leaders and against all students who participate in the student strike.’
Calhoun looked up upon concluding his press statement. The faces that he saw aside from the face of Ben King were absolutely emotionless. The expression on Ben King's face read: Danger.
Baker tapped his copy of the statement against his nose. ‘I hope you are as prepared to deal with the situation as this statement indicates,’ Baker said, getting to his feet.
‘I prepared this statement when it appeared that all of the “student leaders” had gone on vacation,’ Calhoun said, trying hard for a smile that he could not get. ‘You must understand, gentlemen, that it is now three thirty and I haven't been able to contact a soul about negotiating these demands.’
‘That's because the demands are not for negotiating,’ Baker said. ‘I feel obligated to tell you that those demands are only a few of the students’ most pressin’ needs. There are a hundred other things that will need negotiating that we didn't include because they are things that can be dealt with later.’
‘Such as?’
‘I just said that those other things shouldn't be approached now . . . You have to remember, Mr Calhoun, that for you Sutton may only be a job as it is to a number of administrators, but for the students it is home. The workers go home after a day's work. We are here all day every day for nine months. We can't take our home situation too lightly.’
‘But the things on this paper can be worked on,’ Calhoun said.<
br />
‘That's where you're wrong. These things must be done. They must be done, instituted, before we have anything to do with calling off the student strike.’
‘Then it is very clear that we both have things to do,’ Calhoun said with incalculable coldness. ‘I must prepare for the press conference. I am glad, however, that your group is forewarned.’
‘We are happy to have had the opportunity to forewarn you,’ Baker said with a sour smile touching the corners of his mouth. ‘We'll see you.’
Within seconds all five members of MJUMBE had left Calhoun to the solitude of his office. His first thoughts were that he had to see Earl Thomas and find out if there was any division in the student point of view, but the assurance with which Baker had confronted him and the fact that Thomas had been unavailable for almost four hours made him realize that if there was to be a power showdown it was now his time to show.
The intercom buzzed.
‘A Mr Isaac Spurryman from the Norfolk News here to see you,’ Miss Felch informed Calhoun.
‘I can't have any private interviews,’ Calhoun snapped. ‘Tell him that I will make a blanket statement here in half an hour as I had planned. Did you get Thomas?’
‘Nothing, sir,’ Miss Felch said, contemplating overtime. ‘Nothing.’
‘Call Mercer and Hague from Admissions,’ Calhoun sighed. ‘Tell them I said I need them here immediately . . . you may have to stall the press because I'm preparing an alternate statement.’
No sooner had Calhoun put the phone down than the intercom was signaling him once again.
‘Yes?’
‘Mrs Calhoun wants to talk to you,’ Miss Felch reported.
‘Put her on . . . Hello, hon.’
‘I've heard so many things about what was going on,’ Mrs Calhoun said in her small worried voice. ‘What has happened and how are you?’
‘I'm fine,’ Calhoun said gruffly. ‘I just talked with some of our responsible student leaders. They are unreachable.’
‘How do you mean?’
‘I was trying to impress upon them the need for some sort of negotiating proposals. They as much as laughed in my face.’
‘Oh, Ogden.’
‘I think I'm going to have to be forced to close school down and go through a readmission program.’
‘Oh, Ogden!’
‘I'm waiting for Hague and Fenton right now.’
As Calhoun spoke Charles Hague and Fenton Mercer entered his office. With very little formality Calhoun cut his wife off. She was still protesting his decision when he hung up.
25
Calhoun Moves
At five o'clock the auditorium bell had summoned virtually all sixteen hundred members of the Sutton community. The dorms had been cleared of their thirteen hundred occupants, eight hundred female residents and five hundred males. The commuting students had been sitting in the lounge area of the Student Union Building waiting for word from Earl or Baker as to what they should do. The administrative staff had been completing a day's work at their posts in Sutton Hall. In the entire community only a few faculty members had already left campus for the day. They would learn of Calhoun's statement at six o'clock when the news was broadcast statewide.
The MJUMBE members sat in the first row talking softly to one another. Baker had already prepared a statement in reply to Calhoun's expected ultimatum. Earl, Odds, and Lawman, caught totally by surprise in the canteen, stood near the rear door with a group of MJUMBE enforcers who planned to hold students inside long enough for them to hear Baker's counter-statement.
The SGA representatives had been working intensely on a statement that they had planned to read at the Friday faculty meeting. The last thing they had wanted was a political reprisal from the president so soon.
When Calhoun stepped up to the microphone conversation and chair scraping ceased. The enforcers blocked the paths of all who were not inside to that point. Flashbulbs popped from directly under the podium.
‘There is much about the job of president that one likes,’ Calhoun began, ‘and then there are those aspects one is not so fond of. I have been at Sutton for nine years and I suppose I have had it easier than most men who have held my position. Nevertheless I am always hurt when situations of today's nature come about. I am hurt because it indicates a lack of communication. It indicates a breakdown between my office and the students who make up Sutton University. It indicates a lack of understanding on both parts.
‘Sutton has had a Student Government Association for over seventy years. It has had responsible leadership from members of the student community for over seventy years. It is of the utmost importance that this leadership be chosen with the most critical eye possible. It is important because it indicates a political understanding of the nature of campus government.
‘When I received the demands last evening I went to work immediately to do as much as I could on so short a notice. I looked into every demand with thoroughness. I replied to each of the demands as I saw fit. I did, in short, as much as I could. But it seems as though my best was not enough for your student leadership. I offered to sit down and negotiate the demands with them. This too was insufficient.
‘Based on this, I have decided to close Sutton University until such time as the university can institute a readmission program to make sure that the community is able to function at one hundred per cent efficiency.
‘We will begin to take new admission requests next Tuesday, October fifteenth, and will reopen on November first. Our school year will last until June ninth instead of May twenty-second.’ There was a dramatic pause. ‘Are there any questions?’
His audience was stunned. More flashbulbs popped. The roar from the assembly erupted as though provoked by electric shock. The members of MJUMBE were on their feet screaming at the president, but no one was able to hear above the noise. It was then that people realized there were armed security guards at almost every exit and standing at both stairways leading to the stage.
Calhoun shouted into the microphone, ‘I can't possibly handle the questions that I am sure are on everybody's mind unless there is silence. Mr Baker, you'll get your chance!’
There was a question from a female student: ‘As of what time is the university officially closed?’
‘As of right now, Miss,’ Calhoun replied. ‘We are giving students until six o'clock tomorrow evening to leave the dorms.’
‘What'll happen then?’ Baker shouted.
The security guards looked to Calhoun for instructions, but the president said nothing. The newsmen were scampering for the exits to get their stories in. They turned in shock when the audience screamed and the five MJUMBE men were leaping directly onto the stage. Baker squeezed in front of Calhoun and grabbed the microphone. The crowd was on its feet in a veritable frenzy. The guards were blocked by Ben King and Cotton from one side and Abul Menka and Fred Jones at the other. The guards were shouting to Captain Jones, stationed at the rear of the building, asking what they should do.
‘Don't leave!’ Baker screamed. ‘Whatever you do, don't go home! If we allow him to run us away we'll never git anything for as long as Sutton University stands. We must stand our ground.’
Captain Jones broke through the crowd that was swarming around his men. He led the charge, billy stick in hand, that carried him into the waiting arms of huge Ben King who pinioned the older man's flailing arms until he saw Baker leap back to the floor from the platform.
Calhoun was trying hard to maintain some semblance of order from the stage when Abul Menka ripped the microphone from the wall sockets and wrenched the instrument itself from Calhoun's hands and dropped it roughly to the floor.
Baker had started a chant of ‘Hell no! We won't go!’ that swept through the entire audience until it was as though one thunderous voice was shouting the words in unison and pointing at the retreating figure of the president. Reporters at the front exit were pushed to the ground and cameras purposefully torn from their shoulders and smashed to the floor.
The three SGA representatives became separated briefly during the surge out of the building, but found themselves staring dumbly at the procession led by Ralph Baker that cut a trail directly across campus to the door of Sutton Hall where the chanting continued.
‘The wimmin hangin’ tight wit’ that SNCC shit, ain’ they?’ Odds asked. ‘Out here leadin’ the damn revolution. Need to have they asses kicked so they go the hell inside!’
‘They've got to leave. We have to protect them from the cops.’ Earl breathed heavily. ‘Le's git the car an’ put the speaker on it. We can direct dudes to stay if they wanna but we need to git the wimmin outta here.’
‘Calhoun gonna call the man?’ Odds asked.
‘You bet'cho balls he is,’ Earl asserted. ‘Le's go!’
The three men started off at a trot angling away from the crowd forming at Sutton Hall. They were going to get a small, portable public address system that Earl had used during his campaign to solicit votes. It had been taken from Earl's car and stored over the summer months in a back closet in the Student Government office.
‘You think they gonna leave?’ Odds asked, wiping a handkerchief across his nose.
‘We gotta do a convincin’ job,’ Earl said. ‘Remind people of Jackson State an’ Kent State, things like that.’
‘I ain’ anxious to stay an’ get shot either,’ Odds admitted.
‘Better leave with everybody else, then,’ Earl said, pulling up in front of Carver Hall and fishing for his office keys.
‘This is gonna be the split,’ Lawman said, glancing back over his shouder.
‘What split?’
‘MJUMBE tellin’ everybody to stay. You tellin’ people to go.’
‘I'm jus’ tellin’ wimmin to go,’ Earl snorted irritably. ‘I ain’ askin’ none a the nigguhs to leave.’
‘If you think you can ride aroun’ here loudspeakin’ about Kent State an’ Jackson State an’ Orangeburg without niggers flyin’ you must be crazy.’
The Nigger Factory Page 16