A shout interrupted the president. “What do you mean, surrounded?”
“Let me continue. The students are quiet. The officer in charge is maintaining civil order among both the police and the students. We have instructed the chief to keep the situation nonviolent and to follow civil-disturbance guidelines: find the leaders; determine what they want and what their plan is. He reported that they are planning to sit there until we agree to let them graduate.”
Another muffled shout came from the side: “They’ll be sitting there till next May.”
“Order. Order.” The hammering of the gavel resonated throughout the room. “Do you want to stay? Order.”
Evelyn looked at the faces of the parents she knew so well. She had taught many of their children, and she knew how important a good education was to all of them. The worried looks on their faces, their sweaty brows, the years of support they had given her overwhelmed her as she watched them fight for the right for the students to graduate on time.
“The decision to offer a fifth year to our seniors was generous. The offer is still available to those who would like to take it.”
The same voice came from the side of the room: “You take it.”
“Order. This is my last warning.”
One of the officers moved over to the area where the voice had come from.
“If I am interrupted once more, the meeting will be terminated.” The president looked over at the seated board and at the police, who nodded that they understood the command.
“Here is our decision. The superintendent has advised the board that we must acknowledge the coursework completed at West Hill High School and Kettle Creek High School and allow the seniors to graduate.”
Sighs of relief were accompanied by cheers and clapping from the audience.
This time, the board president waited for silence without demanding it with his gavel.
“But we cannot agree to let them graduate from their high school building. It is closed. They must graduate from the Kettle Creek High School auditorium. West Hill High School will be noted on their diploma as the school they graduated from.”
Evelyn saw through that compromise. The parish school board didn’t want to claim the Negro students on its own diplomas. After all, they hadn’t completed the “rigorous curriculum” of Kettle Creek High School. What about her third-graders? Would those retentions be rescinded as well?
The board president continued, “Parents, I do need a consensus. Please raise your hand if you agree with the board’s decision to allow all students to graduate.”
Evelyn raised her hand with everyone else in the room. Not everyone there was a parent. She wished that the white members of the school board understood that in the Negro community, all adults took responsibility for all their youngsters.
“It appears unanimous, but let me ask, does anyone disagree?”
Evelyn knew that the parents and the community had concerns but that no one would give up the agreement at this point. It was time to go home.
“Seeing no dissension, I call this meeting to a close. Good night.”
Chapter 48
Frank
Thursday, May 21, 1970
Frank was tired of sitting cross-legged on the grass. With his bulky body, he could never remain that way comfortably. With Dedra’s arm linked with his, he was willing to sit there as long as it took, just to be close to her again, but they had been in this position for over an hour and he needed to shift his weight. As he did, he noticed some activity under the trees. Another patrol car pulled up to the group of police who had been standing there, watching them.
What for? We’re just sitting here on the ground.
He recognized one as the cop who had arrested him. When he had walked over with the captain to talk to Dedra, Frank had seen the ropey scars on the man’s arm. He remembered those scars. It was all he had been able to see when the cop had stepped on his back and grabbed Frank’s arm to cuff his hands. His words were branded into Frank’s memory: “Don’t want no trouble from you, boy! Don’t you be like your daddy, now!” Frank needed to find out the officer’s name.
The captain interrupted Frank’s contemplation when he started speaking into the bullhorn: “Students, I have another message from the parish school board. The superintendent has recommended that you graduate this year. We now ask you to leave the school property and go home. Your parents are waiting for you.”
Frank saw the surprised looks in each face. He expected shouts of victory, but they all looked to Dedra, who remained in place—no eye contact, no movement, no reaction. Not one student uttered a sound. No one moved. Frank leaned over to her. “Dedra? What’s wrong? Shouldn’t we leave?”
“Why should we trust them, Frank? They came out here with dogs and billy clubs. How do we know that what he said is true? It could just be a trick to make us go home.”
Frank saw that the police remained in place as well. Maybe Dedra was right. Why weren’t they leaving if it was over?
With the bullhorn still in his hand, the captain walked toward them, followed by the cop who had arrested him. When the captain was close to where Dedra and Frank were sitting, he called out to her. “Dedra, you kids got what you wanted. You need to leave.”
Frank watched as she remained seated and looked up at the cops. The captain’s left hand was on the bullhorn, but his right hand could grab the billy club or his pistol if he wanted to. Frank already knew how quickly the other officer could react. He readied himself to leap up.
“Officer, how do we know what you say is true?” Dedra asked.
Frank heard the exasperation in the captain’s answer. “Look, I ordered the dogs to be put back into the cars. We’ve been out here with you for over an hour, waiting for the meeting that your parents asked for to be over. I’m telling you what they sent that patrol car out to tell me.”
Dedra didn’t blink. “If the meeting is over, then our parents will be coming to get us. We’ll wait here for them.”
As the two policemen walked away, Frank heard the one who had arrested him say, “Captain, you can’t let that little bitch talk to you like that.”
“Shut up, Beau. I’m following orders.”
Chapter 49
Evelyn
Thursday, May 21, 1970
As the meeting ended, Evelyn was finally able to get up to the front of the room to see how Annie Mae was doing. She needed to tell her that she had seen Sissy and her friends go to the high school. The tension in the room had turned to relief. Everyone was anxious to get home. Their high school seniors had been bold and brave, and now they probably thought they were invincible. Was that a good thing? Evelyn admired them and their effort, but she knew that the victory was also due to Penelope.
Annie Mae was at the edge of a rush of parents thanking Penelope for her words and support. Evelyn took her friend’s hand before she realized that Annie Mae was dabbing at tears rolling down her cheeks.
“Evelyn, you’re here. I didn’t see you. I was worried that you hadn’t come.”
“I have something to tell you. I left late, and on my way here I saw Sissy, Pearl, and Kendra walking toward the high school with blankets and food.”
“What? Those girls. I should have known they were up to something. And Frank? Did you see him? Oh, Lordy. Are they all at the high school? Of course they are—I can feel it in my bones. I need to go home.”
“I can take you, or do you need to go with the reverend and Penelope?”
“No, no, please take me, Evelyn. It’s out of their way for them to take me back.”
As Evelyn and Annie Mae drove up to the high school, they saw police cars parked along the road. Evelyn drove around the back of the school, where she had seen the students gathering. They both gasped at the sight of more than seventy students sitting on the grass in a circle with their arms linked together. Behind them, by the trees and the fence that bordered the school property, were more police cars and about six officers standing and watching the
seated students.
As they got out of the car, Evelyn said, “Annie Mae, what do we do?”
“Looks like we don’t have to figure that out. Look who’s coming.”
A lone figure walked toward them, his stride confident, a bullhorn in his hand, his billy club swinging.
“Good evening, missus. I’m Captain Eastman. Do you know any of these students?”
“Good evening, Captain. I’m Annie Mae Woods, and this is my friend Evelyn Glover. My son and daughter might be here. We’re coming from the parish school board meeting.”
Evelyn sensed some relief in the man’s expression as he said, “Good—then you’re aware of the decision to let the students graduate on time? These kids didn’t trust us, wanted to wait for their parents to tell them. I told them, but they won’t leave.”
While they talked, a few more cars passed the school. Evelyn noticed one turn back instead of going into the unpaved road leading to their community.
“Annie Mae, look—some of the others saw us. They’re coming back.”
Captain Eastman turned to see the cars arriving. Evelyn saw him slip his hand around his belt to move the billy club to his back.
“If you ladies could come with me so the students can see you while I tell them again that they can graduate next week and that it’s time to go home, we would appreciate it.”
Evelyn looked wide-eyed at Annie Mae as she thought, A white man is telling me he would appreciate it?
They followed Captain Eastman, who raised the bullhorn to speak at the same time that a few more parents walked toward them.
“Students, I believe you know these women, Missus Woods and Missus Glover. They just left the meeting that I told you about. They agree that you can go home and that you will graduate.”
Evelyn and Annie Mae nodded their heads. Evelyn scanned the group of students and spotted Frank and Dedra but not Sissy and her friends.
“There’s Frank, Annie Mae. He’s coming over.”
The students gathered their blankets and sacks of food quietly. Evelyn stepped back as Frank greeted his mother. “Ma. Don’t be upset. I’m fine.”
“Where is your sister? Miz Glover told me that Sissy was here too.”
“When the police started to arrive, I told her to go home by the path behind Miz Glover’s house. She’s safe. Nothing has happened since that captain got here.”
Evelyn gave Annie Mae a worried look. Since he got here? What happened before?
“Frank, I’m driving your mother home. Come with us to find Sissy.”
The captain was on the bullhorn again, this time with more force and less patience. “You are trespassing on public property. You all need to leave now.”
As Evelyn drove away with Annie Mae and Frank, she doubted that any of those white officers had ever worried before about protecting their black school, now their “public property.”
Chapter 50
Evelyn
Friday, May 22, 1970
The next day, Evelyn sat in Annie Mae’s living room while she waited for her friend to bring her a cup of tea. She didn’t want to be waited on and would have preferred to stay in the kitchen, but Annie Mae had scooted her out. Evelyn chose the chair by the large window. The woodwork was stained a dark mahogany to match the best pieces of furniture in the room. The tufted “ladies’” chair was upholstered in a wine-colored damask. In the kitchen, Annie Mae was talking to Rachel, her second-grader, who was in Colleen’s class. Now that the high school graduation problem was resolved, what could be done about the elementary students?
Annie Mae carried the tea and some shortbread cookies into the room. She would never have let her children eat in here, but Evelyn knew she loved serving friends in her “best” room.
The back door slammed shut, echoing through the hall between the kitchen and the living room. “Ma, I’m home.”
Annie Mae called to her son, “Frank, come greet our company in the living room.”
Evelyn admired the way Annie Mae tutored her children with manners—gently but with high expectations.
“Hello, Frank. I haven’t seen you since I drove you and your mother home last night.”
“Yes, ma’am. Thank you for the ride.”
“How’s your job at the funeral home?”
“It’s been great. I really like being able to drive the hearse. Miz Glover, I’m glad to see you. I have a question. Did you see the cop who was standing with the captain when you arrived? Do you know his name?”
Evelyn caught Annie Mae’s eye. She looked worried.
“I’m not sure of it, Frank, but I think he owns that auto repair shop at the end of Highway 179. Why do you ask?”
“He just always seems to be around, watching me driving. His first name is Beau.”
Evelyn heard Annie Mae catch her teacup as it hit the saucer a bit too hard.
She looked at her son and said, “Frank, why are you asking about him? He’s the one who arrested you back in November. I saw his name on the paperwork when I signed you out.”
“Ma, did you see his last name?”
“Yes, it’s Harper. Are you in trouble with him?”
“No. He’s just always around, that’s all. I just wanted to know.”
Chapter 51
Frank
Friday, May 22, 1970
Frank went into his bedroom and sat down on the bed to open the envelope he had taken from the mailbox. He didn’t like keeping secrets from his mother. He had to decide how to tell her. The prior November, when he’d turned eighteen, he’d had to register for the draft. She knew that, but not that he had received a form to report his plans for after his graduation. He was classified as 1-S since he was still a high school student.
Frank had ignored the college application process because without a scholarship he didn’t have the money, and he didn’t qualify for a deferment without a college acceptance. As required, he had notified Selective Service of the change in his status as a student. The job at the funeral home had given him some hope; however, it just wasn’t enough. Sure, he still had the summer to work and could enroll somewhere in September, but that was his old thinking. And the past week had brought changes he hadn’t planned on. He was ready to move on with his future and whatever it brought.
So, in a week, as of Friday, May 29, 1970, he would be a high school graduate with a 1-A classification and could be drafted into military service. He didn’t have to open the envelope; he knew this was his new card. Now he was certain he knew who had started the fire that his father had died in. It wasn’t an accident. It was murder. His father’s repair shop had been a threat to the “best mechanic in West Louisiana.” The scars on Beau’s arm were burns.
Frank took the lighter from his pocket and looked at the engraved initials, BNH. What was Harper’s middle name? Did it matter? What could he do about it? Could one eighteen-year-old make a difference?
Yes. He knew three men who’d enlisted together at eighteen, all three marines: his father, Ole Man Everett, and Fred Peterson. They had returned to Kettle Creek after Korea, and each had made a difference in his own way. His father had been a devoted family man who held a job, started a business, and was a leader in the local NAACP. Fred Peterson had gone to college on the GI Bill and come back to a career in education. Ole Man Everett struggled with nightmares from combat but used his tracking skills to hunt in the woods and alert his neighbors to suspicious activity.
What could Frank do? He still had the business card the FBI agent had given his mother four years earlier. The office’s address was in a large city about ninety miles away. He could write a letter to the agent explaining that he had found the lighter next to his father’s shoe on the night of the fire and had kept it secret all this time, but that would put his family at risk. He couldn’t do that. He put the lighter in his pocket.
Frank drove to the army base and asked to speak to Sergeant Barry, the recruiter who had come to his school. He didn’t have to wait long. Sergeant Barry greeted him
and walked him back through the recruiting headquarters, a rabbit warren of cramped offices.
“It’s good to see you again. I remember you from Kettle Creek High School; you had questions about college benefits. Weren’t you a football player? Frank’s your name, isn’t it?”
“Yes, I’m Frank Woods, and I was a football player. But that’s over. I wanted to ask you more about enlisting. I’m 1-A, and I don’t want to wait to get drafted.”
“If you enlist, you serve three years active duty and three years inactive reserve. A draftee serves two years active duty.”
“My father worked in the motor pool. Is there a way I could enlist and have that assignment?”
“You want to work with your father, on this base?”
“No, he passed a few years ago. He was a civilian worker.”
“You know your way around cars, Frank?”
His mind flashed back to the day he had been under his mother’s old car with oil dripping in his eye. Changing the oil in her car that day had been the last thing he’d wanted to do, but it had given him a sense of pride. And driving the hearse for the funeral home required him to step up and recall all the things his father had taught him about cars. He hadn’t realized how much he knew until he tried to impress Mr. Fields.
“Enlisting can allow a guaranteed MOS if you qualify for it.”
“MOS?”
“Oh, sorry, MOS stands for ‘military occupational specialty.’ Tell me a bit more about yourself. Did you graduate from high school?”
Frank thought about how that almost hadn’t happened. “Yes, sir. Well, almost—we graduate next Friday.”
“Enlisting in the army was a great career choice for me, Frank. What else are you interested in?”
“Football.”
“Yes, I see that you’re in good shape. I guess that’s from training and practice. But we don’t do much football. We have some windmill baseball competitions in the spring, but those are for soldiers here on a permanent assignment. Anything else?”
Freedom Lessons Page 17